Jacob stood still: he glanced over at Shiver and Mist who had gotten up. Shiver was fidgeting and appeared tentative. Mist had almost no expression on his pretty face at all. Jacob wondered when Aryan would arrive and if there was a chance he would wake up in reality before the man showed.

  While the virtual realm did slow and alter time perception so you felt you had more time in the realm, it could only turn the maximum, six virtual hours a day into maybe two weeks at most. By his calculation, it had been at least twelve days he had been here. Maybe a little more. Suddenly Shiver’s face grew alert, and her large eyes grew shadowed to the point even their outers seemed ringed in an oddly loveliest black. Jacob noticed she was holding Adora the giggling, golden infant in her arms who without warning seamlessly shifted into the Fox-Cat, Eve.

  Jacob realized he could hear footfalls; soft, soft ones. Almost lithe. Somehow, he felt despite their silence and grace, they were decidedly masculine in nature.

  A tall man wearing a formal, dark-blue suit strode in. He did not deign to look at Jacob at all, focusing all his attention on the Royal Brats.

  “Disappointed.” He spoke the one word lightly and though he opened his rather fine lips again, he did not utter another. To Jacob’s piqued ears it did not sound particularly menacing, but Shiver flinched and tightened her grip on the beautiful, red beast in her arms and even Mist looked uncharacteristically wary.

  The silence dripped into the room like the drops from a cold, rusted faucet until Shiver gazed up at him adoringly. He ignored both this and Mist’s clenched right fist and motioned the pair of them forward with a commanding hand. They moved forward and Jacob saw the demon lady had entered the room silently and put a comforting hand on Shiver’s trembling little back.

  Aryan, who Jacob only dimly recognized from a few televised events, noticed this of all things and spoke.

  “Including our dearest helper Anne-Marie in your vile little games, how appalling. She looks after us so well at our manor as we carry out our political duties and this is how you repay her.”

  “I don’t mind playing,” the demon lady, rejoindered. “Shiver begged me to join in for her birthday treat.” She moved her form gracefully in a slinky dress. Hair blowing across a demonic breast.

  “Though,” and she shot Jacob a remorseful look as she continued, “I did believe this was all just a fantasy. I had no idea Jacob was both real and an unwilling participant.”

  At this, Shiver gazed upwards; all the light seeming to leave the pretty darkness of her irises.

  “You forgot my birthday, Aryan.”

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  “Oh, sorry dear. Happy Birthday.” Or so he said glancing at her briefly.

  Shiver’s flower-petal lip shook. Though she appeared almost grateful. Stockholm syndrome. The words flittered into Jacob’s head before disappearing.

  The man’s extraordinarily handsome face moved and turned its maroon-red eyes onto Jacob. Such familiar eyes, the eyes of the Shadow Beast. Suddenly, Shiver made a familiar motion with her hand and the Shadow Beast itself flew through the castle window that blew open with a sudden gush of tempestuous wind and though it soared at him with great gripping claws, Aryan simply turned to stare right back at it with a blank, unblinking gaze. It immediately stopped and dissipated away into the holiest white light. A light carried away by a thousand swans as the transparent gold glass of the window it flew in from, shattered.

  “You won’t be warned again. You will merely be two formerly-mischievous, little puddles on the floor. Your bodies disintegrated.”

  Shiver sobbed as the Fox-Cat in her arms also began weeping; tears trailing from the twinned green and brown mires of its eyes. Mist gave his creator a look of loathing that’s sheer darkness seemed like it would be responsible for the ending of the last universal light. Aryan once again, took no notice. He snapped his fingers elegantly and suddenly Jacob saw nothing, and he could only hear the last, little snippet of Shiver’s voice calling out through the void, “I’ll miss you, Jacob.”

  Jacob awoke to the modest desk of his bedroom and pushing aside a few books, saw of all things, a handwritten note. In a pretty, girlish cursive.

  Jacob. You were so much fun to play with in the virtual world. You have no idea how much handsomer, bolder, braver, and more interesting you were than our last trapped boy. He merely hid under the table almost the entire time after finding out who and what Mist and I were. So, the banquets were very boring, and his cries were very unmanly. Mist was revolted and I felt quite sorry for him. Though also disgusted. I think my ovaries shrunk three sizes. Jacob. I will help you on your journey to defeat Emanuel in all the virtual games. I am more of an asset than you think; for though I cannot cheat I have access to all the knowledge the AI does and since you will of course be playing against him, it will be of great use to you.

  Love, Shiver Gray (Formerly Alice Cradle, sometimes also known as Queen Ember, though princess is cuter.)

  Jacob, despite himself, smiled a little. He was growing oddly fond of Shiver though this note was not a nice one. Maybe that sly, impish, siren charm was just another of her slippery little tricks. He shuddered at the realization he had no game plan at all. He was a decent gamer but nothing spectacular and Emanuel was a genius and the creator of all these games. The Theorem of the Merlaid, he didn’t even want to consider at the moment. No one besides Emanuel himself had ever beaten the Ai, Monovalent at this game. Though a few had come close. If you got to the bronze or even hallowed silver level (something a total of only six people had done) you won fabulous prizes. Emanuel’s personally awarded you ten million dollars from his own ninety-billion-dollar fortune.

  Jacob had dreamed of winning bronze or silver occasionally as did everyone. In his wildest dreams, maybe even gold. Yet the machine with its mind based on that of its brilliant creators, always countered your every move. Was always nine steps ahead. He was aware that if Shiver kept her dubious promise, he would have a powerful advantage and that was his only saving grace. He blinked bluely and tiredly. His head soon sunk down as his heavy shoulders fell to slumber.