“You’re divorced?”
“Naw, just on hold for a while. Till she gets her math scores up to a B again.” Jason added, “Funny. Most people who get married in DQ stay married. In the real world a lot of our parents’re divorced. I hope she gets back online soon. I miss her.” He jabbed a finger at the screen. “Anyway, let’s go to the house.”
Under Jason’s direction, Dance’s avatar maneuvered around the landscape, past dozens of people and creatures.
Jason led them to a cliff. “We could walk there, but that’d, you know, take a while. You can’t pay for a Pegasus ride because you haven’t earned any gold yet. But I can give you transport points.” He began to type. “It’s like my dad’s frequent flier thing.”
He keyboarded some more codes and then had the avatar climb on the winged horse and off they flew. The flight was breathtaking. They soared over the landscape, around thick clouds. Two suns burned in the azure sky and occasionally other flying creatures would cruise past, as did dirigibles and bizarre flying machines. Below, Dance saw cities and villages. And, in a few places, fires.
“Those’re battles,” Jason said. “Look pretty epic.” He sounded as if he regretted missing the chance to lop off some heads.
A minute later they arrived at a seashore — the ocean was bright green — and slowly eased in for a landing on a rolling hillside overlooking the turbulent water.
Dance remembered Caitlin saying that Travis liked the shoreline because it reminded him of some place in a game he played.
Jason showed her how to dismount the horse. And, under her own controls, she navigated Greenleaf toward where Jason pointed, a cottage.
“That’s the house. We all built it together.”
Like a barn raising in the 1800s, Dance reflected.
“But Travis earned all the money and the supplies. He paid for it. We hired trolls to do the heavy work,” he added without a bit of irony.
When her avatar was at the door, Jason gave her a verbal password. She spoke it into the computer’s microphone and the door opened. They walked inside.
Dance was shocked. It was a beautiful, spacious house, filled with bizarre but cozy furniture, out of a Dr. Seuss book. There were walkways and stairs that led to various rooms, windows of odd shapes, a huge, burning fireplace, a fountain and a large pool.
A couple of pets — some goofy hybrid of a goat and salamander — walked around croaking.
“It’s nice, Jason. Very nice.”
“Yeah, well, we make cool homes in Aetheria ’cause where we live, I mean, in the real world, our places aren’t so nice, you know. Okay, like, here’s what I wanted to show you. Go there.” He directed her past a small pond populated with shimmery green fish. Her avatar stopped at a large metal door. It was barred with several locks. Jason gave her another pass code and the door slowly opened — accompanied by creaking sound effects. She sent Greenleaf through the doorway, down a flight of stairs and into what looked like a drugstore combined with an emergency room.
Jason looked at Dance and noticed she was frowning.
He said, “Understand?”
“Not exactly.”
“That’s what I meant about knowing Travis. He’s not about weapons and battle strategy or any of that. He’s about this. It’s his healing room.”
“Healing room?” Dance asked.
The boy explained, “Travis hated fighting. He created Stryker as a warrior when he first started playing, but he didn’t like that. That’s why he sold him to me. He’s a healer, not a fighter. And I mean a healer at the forty-ninth level. You know how good that makes him? He’s the best. He’s awesome.”
“A healer?”
“That’s his avatar’s name. Medicus — it’s some foreign language for ‘doctor.’”
“Latin,” Boling said.
“Ancient Rome?” Jason asked.
“Right.”
“Sweet. Anyway, Travis’s other professions are herb growing and potion making. This is where people come to be treated. It’s like a doctor’s office.”
“Doctor?” Dance mused. She rose from her desk, found the stack of papers they’d taken from Travis’s room and flipped through them. Rey Carraneo had been right — the pictures were of cut-up bodies. But they weren’t the victims of crimes; they were of patients during surgery. They were very well done, technically accurate.
Jason continued, “Characters from all over Aetheria would come to see him. Even the game designers know about him. They asked him for advice in creating NPCs. He’s a total legend. He’s made thousands of dollars by making these healing potions, buffers, life regenerators and power spells.”
“In real money?”
“Oh, yeah. He sells them on eBay. Like how I bought Stryker.”
Dance recalled the strongbox they’d found under the boy’s bed. So this was how he’d made the cash.
Jason tapped the screen. “Oh, and there?” He was indicating a glass case in which rested a crystal ball on the end of a gold stick. “That’s the scepter of healing. It took him, like, fifty quests to earn it. Nobody ever got one before, in the whole history of DQ. ” Jason winced. “He almost lost it once… .” An awestruck expression washed over his face. That was one messed-up night.”
The boy sounded as if the event were a tragedy in real life.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Medicus and me and some of us in the family were on this quest in the Southern Mountains, which’re like three miles high and really dangerous places. We were looking for this magical tree. The Tree of Seeing, it’s called. And, this was sweet, we found the home of Ianna, the Elvish queen, who everybody’s heard of but never seen. She’s way famous.”
“She’s an NPC, right?” Boling asked.
“Yeah.”
He reminded Dance, “A nonplayer character. One that’s created by the game itself.”
Jason seemed offended at the characterization. “But the algorithm is awesome! She’s beyond any bot you’ve ever seen.”