Somnia Online by K.T. Hanna (reading strategies book txt) 📕

of Fable so they could communicate on time with each other over guild speak. That was the excuse she’d given, anyway. With the rampant infection running through some of the other guilds’ players as well as her own, she’d had to pick people she was certain she could trust, for now.

“So. What do we do now?” she mumbled to Telvar, out of earshot of everyone else.

He grinned at her, no doubt holding back a smart remark. It was like she could feel it emanating from him. “We hope the keys work.”

“Oh, fucking fantastic planning, Tel.” She rolled her eyes.

He laughed softly. “Blame our little Somnian friend, why don’t you? Everything worked fine until she woke up.”

“Maybe, but I woke her up, so that’s my fault.” The realization made her feel oddly down on herself.

“Shush. Stop that. If he hadn’t tinkered with your headgear, you wouldn’t have triggered Somnia, and I think we’d all be worse off. Sure, this seems dire now, but I have a distinct feeling—one of those gut feelings you’re always on about—that everything will turn out just fine.” He gave her forearm a squeeze, as if reminding her he was always there even when she forgot about him.

Stepping forward, Murmur searched for the keyholes. They weren’t that hard to find once she got closer, and they weren’t even under the water section of the fountain. Instead, they were embedded into the central support of the fountain, as a part of the actual statue. In fact, the positioning on the thigh of the elf statue made her feel oddly suspicious. But she leaned forward and began to insert the key into its pattern.

Once she was done, she admired how it looked like a pretty 3D tattoo. She took a deep breath and spoke over guild. Everyone ready?

Mellow: Aye, captain.

Sinister: Of course!

Trying to steady her nerves, Mur counted to three and closed her eyes. Okay, turn after three.

One.

She admired the fountain in all its glory, the way the water almost seemed to be arranged with magic. The realism of the statues of the races that inhabited Cenedril was potent. The elf, the feles, and the dwarf all seemed more lifelike than she’d remembered them being the first time she passed this statue. Any other times they’d come through this city, she had to confess she hadn’t really looked, despite her fountain quest and her curiosity about them.

Two.

The key, even inserted into the statue, felt like a heavy weight in her hands. Like it was meant to do something she hadn’t even contemplated. For a split second she wasn’t sure they should be doing this at all.

Three.

Her hand grasped the strange key design and turned it, feeling the teeth catch with each millimeter of precision. Golden light like glitter powder streamed around the key as it made its rotation before clicking into place with a finality that surprised her. There was no going back now.

A huge grating sound made the ground under her feet rumble. It sounded from somewhere beneath her and all around her at once, shaking everything. She could hear the water splashing against the rocks outside the city like it was angry at the continent. The walls began to strain and shake around them, and Murmur glanced up to see small, spiderweb cracks appearing in the beautiful stonework of the city.

Screams echoed from all through the city proper. Fear seeped through Murmur’s mind as she felt the anguish of the NPCs. Anguish she shouldn’t have been able to sense from non-sentient, non-sapient, not real people.

Are you sure? Aren’t they real? Aren’t I real? Somnia’s stray thought caught Mur by surprise. Of course the AI was right. So much of this world was becoming aware of itself, including Michael in whatever form he’d been sunk into. So what did that make them for hunting him down?

If he truly existed in here, wouldn’t that be akin to murder? The ramifications started to pile up in her brain, beating at her until anxiety rose. Except she couldn’t let that in right now. She breathed again, in and out, focusing on the clarity that came with sensing Somnia as the world she was, the world she had become. Peace didn’t last for long though.

The cranking of gears underneath them—far, far below—settled in Murmur’s ears, distracting her from any other conversations. Her sensing nets warned her of danger, from all around her as the stone structures moved uneasily, cracking in so many places it would take the dwarves years to repair.

Mellow: Hell! What is happening?

She could hear the panic in their voice over speak and called out, trying to sound soothing herself. It’s just the mechanism triggering, I think.

Murmur realized she probably shouldn’t have added the I think part to it. Because the tension levels from her guild members in her little group didn’t exactly go down. So that was great lack of thinking on her part.

Sinister: It feels dangerous over here. Like…that trapdoor thing just ripped free and is coming to gobble us all up.

And just as Sinister spoke, the statues in front of Murmur, the very statues that had been standing in the fountain, including the one with the nice tattoo she’d just given him, began to move. That couldn’t be good, could it?

The elf, the feles, and the dwarf stepped out of the fountain. Angling the middle support over and revealing it to have a hidden hinge, the elf moved it toward him. The dwarf flipped his axe and handed it over, and the feles pulled out what looked like a staff. It didn’t take long, and Murmur couldn’t rip her eyes from the fascinating visage in front of her. The fluid movements of the rock, the way the weapons fit together and then into the stone support—now the whole contraption looked like an old-fashioned crank. With a nod, the dwarf moved up to the elf, and they both began to wind it, like they were in the bowels of a ship, rowing to get through a storm before