[William of Brinsford:] [Falstaff the Bold] [It's all on you from here out. You can do it! I shut up now.]

  Glancing at my wrist, I set the timer on my watch, waiting for the spawn to start.

  Falstaff’s helmet hid his face behind rust-patched steel as he scanned the crowd watching him.

  “Nervous, probably wasn’t even close to what he was feeling.”

  He shook once, like he was throwing something off, a tremor running down his arms, before he turned back towards the building and dropped into the guard I’d showed him after the first fight. Shield up, left side forward, the edge just below his eyes, canted so the corner pointed high. He raised his sword just over his head, horizontal to the ground, and waited.

  The Goblin waddled through the doorway first, the two Kobolds following close, forming a loose line in front of him. When I heard Falstaff shout, “Yoshi! Go, go, go!” I hit the timer.

  His brother sprang forward, tabi slapping the pavement, as he broke into a run. Falstaff CHARGEd past him, slamming his shield into the left Kobold as his sword hacked at the second.

  Matt started running, then fell forward mid-stride, his body and everything he was wearing dissolving into a large, sleek, black panther that hit the ground, bounding forward on silent paws. Two bounds later, he POUNCEd on the first Kobold, raking his claws across it as he skidded past. A copper-colored METAL BOLT cracked into the creature’s side, leaving it bleeding and motionless.

  Spells streaked toward the Goblin and the other Kobold. Yoshi half-turned as he slashed the Goblin while running by, then pivoted to face it again. That was all it took. All three monsters dropped to the pavement.

  I clicked the timer, eyes widening. Only eighteen seconds had passed since it started. Gold flashes rippled across most of the 19th & Fox neighborhood guild as they hit Level 2, two 50-point encounters giving them the 100 experience they needed.

  Ryan and Meg were still 100 points shy of Level 3, and the elder Flanagans were halfway to Level 1, this being their first taste of a real fight.

  [William of Brinsford:] [Falstaff the Bold] [Good work! Loot it and wrap it. You did good. You all did real good.]

  [Falstaff the Bold:] [William of Brinsford] [Thanks. Thanks for all you did. You got us through it.]

  [William of Brinsford:] [Falstaff the Bold] [No. I made it more complicated with more people. The next one will be easier. You lead the after-action report, just like your football coaches probably do. What went right, what to improve. Hurry and loot before they vanish. Meg’s got cookies as a sweet reward. Don’t let them get cold…or worse, gone before you get one.]

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  Falstaff started calling out orders with the voice of a team captain getting people lined up after a rough play. Across the dead Goblin, I spotted Shadow talking with Yoshi, her hands chopping the air. She’s critiquing his form…I’ll bet that’s exactly what she’s doing. A grin spread across my face.

  A light breeze shifted through the street, carrying the scent of fresh-cut grass from somewhere to the west, mixing with the warm, dusty smell of concrete cooling in the dusk. The reporters were still hanging back, some looking pale, others filming like they couldn’t believe what they’d just seen. Most of them probably still thought this wasn’t real.

  I strolled over to the guild, waiting while they handed out loot, distributing coins to anyone who could use them. Blaze kept only one coin, passing on the rest, and Matt did the same. It took nearly half an hour for everyone to wind down, the chatter and occasional whoops of victory drifting across the empty street.

  While they were wrapping up, I slipped over to the old Speedy Pizza shop, the windows dark, the place long closed. Not as stagnant smelling as I expected due to the broken glass door.

  Casting DETECT MANA just outside the open door, I watched the light blue routes of the Ley Lines intersect to the left of the entrance. A faint circle of MANA glowed on the worn tile inside, its edge darker but fuzzy, not as sharp as the lines.

  I tried DETECT MAGIC, and a single word formed: PORTAL.

  “Hhhmmm.” I don’t want to touch or activate it…looks like they appeared above it. Maybe they can go back through if no one’s around? Didn’t get the chance this time. I bet one of the reasons for the MAGIC WARD spell was to block this from working.”

  I checked the rules in my head, noting that the base spell’s size matched my estimated size of the circle. The spell doubled in time and size as it leveled.

  “Whatcha looking at, Will?” rumbled a familiar voice behind me.

  Glancing up, I saw Bhaarrt’s massive gray frame filling the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “Hi, Bhaarrt. There’s a portal here, about ten feet across. It’s where they came in. Same size as the Ward spell that stops spawns from working. I was thinking about how many we’d need to cover the whole town…it’s a lot.”

  “We probably got enough folks to cover all the portals,” he rumbled, stepping closer, the old glass crunching under his feet. “Ingrid and I can handle whatever comes out of any single one.”

  “I know. I can do it solo too if I burn extra MANA. But what happens when there’s more than three…or higher levels? Or both? And that doesn’t help single Level 1s.”

  “Yeah…right. It doesn’t.” His massive hand clapped my shoulder, sending a ripple down my spine. “Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out. Right now, you better go get your cookie before someone else eats it. Someone big, like me.” His laughter boomed in the empty building, echoing against old pizza ovens. An ogre laughing is something you don’t forget…or ignore.

  Discretion and Meg’s cookies both being the better parts of valor, I wanted that cookie. I left the place to Bhaarrt.

  Outside, day was sliding into dusk, the last glow of sunlight brushing the treetops beyond the buildings. The 19th & Fox guild organized coverage for the 1 a.m. spawn and the next day’s waves, hammering out shifts while standing on the sidewalk in front of Meg and Ryan’s house.

  I let them know not to count on me unless things changed. They needed the spawns…needed the experience.

  Meg brought out cookies on a plate, and we thanked her properly, warm chocolate chip steam curling in the cooling late spring air.

  Reporters with their phones and cameras hovered hungrily nearby, but when I glared, they backed off. Cookies are for heroes.

  We headed home to get ready for the video call with the President.

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