We’re thrilled to offer you a preview of Fool's Last Dance.
Get a sneak peek into Chapter 1 and discover what’s in store for Fool and Jackal in their final adventure.
Chapter One
The ache in his bones wasn’t real, but Fool felt it anyway. Sitting down was a road well-traveled by this point, but that didn’t make it smooth. He could still feel the grate in his joints that matched the grate of the gravel he sat on, even if the feeling in the bones wasn’t real.
Thanks to the System and its tweaks, he looked as if he was in his early thirties, and performed as if he was a superhero in his late teens. However, the body still remembered. Coming up on seventy years of rough living and poor self-care? A couple of years of awesome couldn’t entirely stop the momentum of neglect he’d built up.
His muscles felt warm and liquid. The fight had been hard enough to make him move. He rolled his shoulders and closed his eyes for a moment. Remembered the good bits.
A sharp claw that had almost nailed him, and the rushing joy of the pirouette he’d spun into, that had turned into a leap and a smashing downward blow. The heavy blow from the body of the beast that had driven him back, hard, and the brief flicker of rage had made him grit down and shove back.
Fool should be bruised. Battered. Dead, if he wanted to really think about it. Instead, he was looking out over his favorite valley, enjoying the contrast between the body that was his now and the body he’d used up getting to this stage in his life.
The sun was warm, and even if the world had changed for the worse, he was still in a better place. Didn’t mean he could completely shake off the old life, but he was getting better all the time at embracing his second chance.
Maybe that was the difference. He’d lived a full life, lived to feel the regrets for all his mistakes. Maybe that made it easier for him to see the opportunity, having come from a place of pain and loss.
If someone had just gotten a new body, that was a dream come true, but if they hadn’t seen the crippling emotional pain the old one would have caused them in the years to come? Maybe the gift might feel a little hollow. More likely though, Fool had just forgotten what it was like to have a fresh young brain that hadn’t been through the wringer yet.
With a final shake of his wrists, he turned to see how his partner was doing.
Jackal was carefully wiping the gore off his outfit, sporting a cheery grin. Fool wasn’t entirely convinced by it. There was a hollowness behind the smile, one that had been sneaking its way into Jackal over the last few months. They hadn’t talked about it. At first, Fool had figured the big man was tired, but now he was getting the sense that Jackal was wondering where all of this was going. Fighting monsters and working for a secret organization was fun and all, but even Fool could feel it was getting old. It was a living, but it wasn’t a real, full life by any stretch of the imagination.
There wasn’t much either of them could do about it. That didn’t stop Fool from trying to cheer up his friend in his own way.
“You missed a spot,” he said.
That at least got a raised eyebrow from Jackal. “Do you want a faceful of bug guts? Because that’s how you get a faceful of bug guts.”
Fool couldn’t stop the laugh from bursting out of him, and the grin that shone on Jackal’s face in response was a proper one, from the heart.
“No,” Fool said, flopping down on his back for a moment. “And sorry. I didn’t mean to splash you.”
Jackal barked out a short laugh and sat down next to Fool, after relenting and using a cleansing spell to get rid of the rest of the goo.
The remnants of the giant insect lay scattered about on the ground in front of them. The thing was huge, but even so, an errant gust of wind was enough to lift one of its wings a respectful distance up in the air. It had taken them longer than they’d expected to bring down the beast. It hadn’t been a butterfly when they’d found it.
When they’d tracked down the rampaging beast that had been carrying off the local livestock, it had looked like a giant segmented caterpillar, almost like a beetle. It was swift, for all its bulk, and had led them on a merry chase down the valley and up a mountainside. The transformation had been its final ace in the hole. Just as they’d knocked its health all the way down, it had curled up into a ball and formed a hard shell all around itself.
It had taken most of Fool and Jackal’s combined attacks to crack that shell. They’d attacked with desperation, sensing that something far stronger would come out if they gave it time, and they’d been right.
They’d finally cracked the shell seconds before the transformation into the beast’s flying form had completed. It was mostly done, so they still had a fight on their hands, but in its weakened state, the monster never really had a chance.
Fool’s last blow, powered by his Hammer of Loki Skill, had pulped its head almost clean off.
He wasn’t ready to get up just yet and glanced over at Jackal. The big man was staring off into the distance.
“Butterfly,” Jackal said.
He didn’t follow up on that, so Fool sat up with a grumble and looked around.
It was a warm day, with the Fraser River giving off a clean, damp smell to balance the sticky-sap smell of the nearby woods. Fool couldn’t see any butterflies around. Lots of flowers floating about on top of the tall grass, but no butterflies.
Then he saw it. The carcass. “Oh. Yeah. I guess it was. Mothra-thing, maybe? That would have sucked.”
The wings of the beast they’d killed were cracking open a little in the sun, drying and spreading out. The wings had a speckled sheen to them, and Fool could even see small scales all over them, just like a butterfly’s wing.
Jackal nodded and walked a little closer to the dead monster. “Transformation, but only outwardly. No matter what it might have wanted to be, the System would still make it a monster.”
“The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Fool stood up using only one leg, just for the fun of it. “Even in a new world, the powers that be still get to force the same shit down on everyone.”
Jackal looked at the thing for a silent moment. “Maybe. But maybe not. Might just be that we are only seeing things the way they want us to. Perhaps there’s a layer of reality we aren’t seeing yet.”
“What, getting all ‘matrix’ on me now?”
Jackal grinned. “No, not like that. Just that it’s a big universe. Even with the breadth of the System, it’s not everything. And we’re only being exposed to one minor part of it.”
Fool could only nod.
The sun still shone, the wind still ruffled the trees and grass, the smaller birds still flew, but it felt as though time stood still for a bit. Just the two of them, and the corpse of the creature that had died trying to change itself.
A timeless moment, and too many thoughts, but it still passed.
Fool shook off the remnant bits of gore and dirt. The grin hadn’t really left his face, but it flared a little brighter. “Time to head back. Party should be getting started.”
Jackal grinned back, and for a moment, whatever thoughts were in the back of his mind seemed to flit away. “Right! The Grammas were going to make strudels with the new crop.”
“Cherry,” Fool said, his mouth suddenly watering. “I was promised cherry strudel. With glaze.”
“Not if I get it first.” Jackal was off like a shot.
Fool cursed and followed. The two of them pulled out every trick they could, and in less than an hour, they were back in McBride.
The smell of food and the thumping ring of music led them to the heart of the party. Main Street was overflowing with people, and it took Fool and Jackal a while to work through the gathering folk. The little village had grown into a small town over the last few years. It hadn’t been easy, with the high-level monster spawns all around them. The Foundation, Fool and Jackal, and the recruits they’d brought in, had been instrumental in keeping McBride on top of any attacks. Passing through the town, Fool felt as though he’d had a moment to fight side by side with almost everyone.
It hadn’t been just them though. The entire village had risen to the challenge the System had brought, rallying together, hunting constantly to keep their levels growing, keeping a constant and active Artisan community going. The village was a lot like it had been before the System, only more so. A tight community working hard to support each other and looking constantly to a better future.
Which was the reason for the party today. The hard work was paying off, to the point where the village finally had a little excess. They’d put together a well-trained combat unit to hire out, and now they had their first potential contract. The City of Vancouver had recently come under new management and found themselves a little understaffed in some aspects.
The McBride Flying Cavalry had put in a bid, and it had been conditionally accepted, details to be worked out in person. Tomorrow they would be taking to the air for the trip to Vancouver. Fool and Jackal would go along to assist in the negotiations.
Today was a going away party, and also an excuse to celebrate not just survival, but how well they’d prospered in the face of a potential extinction event. Fool was enjoying every bit of the attention, and it was reminding him of how much this place had become home.
McBride was in a beautiful and auspicious location, but it was the people who really made it home for Fool. Some of the folk he couldn’t remember the names of, but he knew enough about them to greet them and ask how whatever thing they were working on was going. Or how their family was doing, or hobby, or crafting. It was a comfortable web of connection all around that nestled him into comfort, like feathers in a nest.
A roaring laugh ahead kept his feet moving through the crowd and toward his destination.
The library greens had a small gazebo, and Yagnar barely fit into it. She took up a whole bench by herself, and even sitting, her head almost reached the eaves. Roger was across from her, and Olivia was sitting between the two, watching their animated conversation. Yagnar was still laughing when Roger noticed Fool and Jackal coming through the crowd, and he waved enthusiastically at them.
Fool was about to wave back, but Yagnar spun about to see who Roger was waving at, and when she saw the two of them, she jumped out of the gazebo with a speed that belied her size. She spread her arms wide for a hug, and Jackal was already there before Fool had even started to grin.
Yagnar looked great, as did the other two. They were all dressed for the party. Roger was wearing, of all things, a suit. It looked good on him, and Fool noted that he’d grown substantially in the last while. Physically, Roger had gotten a little more brawn on him and a few more inches in height. He didn’t look like a buff teenager anymore, but more like a confident young Hollywood action star.
Fool had seen Roger’s mental growth in the last while as well. After their adventures in Wells Gray Park, Roger had mostly ditched the spoiled brat approach. The last time Fool had seen him in battle, they’d been repelling a wave of monster attacks on the west side of town. Roger had taken charge of a cadre of youths and was ably directing them, guiding them to finishing off monsters wounded by older fighters, sending them out in squads to take on smaller and weaker monsters. He’d become a leader, and one that cared about his followers.
Olivia wasn’t so formal looking, but she’d ditched her adventuring gear of bone fetishes and ragged leathers for a stylish look that was still somewhat casual. Big shoes, black tights with coastal art in black and green running down the sides, and an oversized black hoody with some kind of cartoon face on it that Fool didn’t recognize.
Yagnar, though… she’d gone all out. The long red dress she wore wasn’t an evening gown, but it was almost as eye-catching. Fool recognized the style as being based on a fifties-style housewife classic, but it had been cut and fit to flatter. The arms were bare to show off her muscles, but the cut of the rest, along with the heels, gave more of a pinup impression.
The contrast to her usual military uniform was startling, but also the clearest sign of the progress the town had made. Yagnar was now in charge of logistics for the Foundation. Her inherent skillset had been pushed to new levels with the Foundation’s backing and access. What she was wearing was the clearest sign of the future of McBride that Fool could look for.
It was a sign that the worst had passed. Better times, if not good times, were ahead.
Home was finally a place he could relax.
***
Lucy felt the sound even before her hand touched the door. The door almost buzzed from the pulse of it, and an atavistic shiver ran up her spine in anticipation. She paused just long enough for a single breath, already feeling the luscious pulse that would shiver the little horns on her head.
There was no one to watch her, but the show never ended. She set her shoulders just right, let her favorite predatory grin rise like a moon through the fog, and flung the door open.
The floor was packed. She could tell even before she stepped out on the gallery, just from the way she should see bodies milling about on the edges, in the dark places. Thieves’ Heart was on the stage, the house band driving a last beat so hard she felt her hoody popping against her body as the song ended.
They didn’t pause between songs, a lone guitar wailing quietly for a moment before the drums started back with a rock-steady beat. She leaned over the railing as the vocalist let loose with a seductive wail. Eyes looked up at her.
Not everyone. Just the regulars. Those who knew that this gothic rock staple was her theme song. It always marked her entrance to the dance floor, her nightly hunt for a partner or two to make the night less lonely.
The song hit its bridge, rising in intensity, and she felt the lovely taut and swollen muscles of this body longing to move, to dance. Hungry, sparkling eyes met her gaze from below, and she grinned down on them.
She loved this. Loved this city, this Vancouver. These people who had let her build this home for them, this secret enclave where they could dance, where they could free themselves and be themselves and find those fleeting secret moments that made life worth living.
And tonight, she was going to show them that love as best she could.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
Lucy didn’t spin in surprise. This was her club, after all. And she wasn’t that surprised. But it was good to show some surprise. Didn’t want to give away all her secrets. She stopped. Then slowly turned and tilted her head at the figure leaning against a pillar farther down the dwarf gallery.
Red and white armor, with fine wisps of fabric trailing off all about. An almost featureless white facemask on the helmet, with red fins rising on either side. The fabric almost formed into a long, flowing skirt around the legs. Almost attractive, Lucy thought. Tempting.
“That’s a matter of opinion”—Lucy licked the tip of her pointiest canine—“and something tells me you didn’t get an invitation.”
Red and White stood up off the pillar and took a small step to balance themselves square. “Lucy Brightside. I wonder if the humans know why you chose that name.”
She ran her hand up through her hair, letting one of the horns glimmer briefly in reflected light from the dance floor. “Seemed fitting.” Her voice was calm, but the way her eyes switched from a cool violet to a stormy indigo glow should be all the warning the interloper needed to know that she was on thin ice. “I think the one who’s not supposed to be here is you though. I didn’t invite you here, and no one gets up here without an invitation. So which of my little munchkins let you up?”
Red and White said nothing, didn’t even cross her arms, just stood looking at Lucy as if she could intimidate her into leaving. As she stood there, Lucy noticed her mask wasn’t really featureless. Or rather, it wasn’t opaque but rather translucent. The face behind the mask was just exceptionally pale.
It was the stern look on that face that decided Lucy. She never could stand smugness on anyone, especially when the smugness had an air of privilege about it.
Lucy stepped forward, and the glow in her eyes flared.
Red and White held up a hand. “The Weaver sends warning.”
That froze Lucy in place. If she was her other self, she’d be tempted to laugh with delight, be tempted to dance with the Weaver and put them in their place.
They’d done it before, again and again and again. All the best fun.
She wasn’t that other self though. She was just an avatar, a spun-off manifestation. The System managed Mana dictated the rules and the Council’s rules, and because of that, she could only be here as a reduced copy of her real self.
That meant she had limitations, so she could fit in with the local environment.
Red and White wasn’t the Weaver either. The Weaver had to deal with some of the same limitations, so it was a question of what sort of proxy Red and White was. Not an avatar, because that was something unique. And also the source of the Weaver’s hatred of Lucy.
Well, one of the reasons. Still, the Weaver could send some very capable people if they wanted to. Under other circumstances, Lucy would just call it quits and discorporate. The game was usually up when you were found out.
Not this time.
It would be a shame to let the Weaver know the game had changed this early. Nothing for it. It wasn’t like a little chaos would be a problem anyway. The game was no fun if you knew how it was going to end.
She smiled at Red and White. “I suppose you have some kind of message, but to be honest? Not in the mood. I’m going dancing. You can just fuck right off.”
Rage flashed across Red and White’s face, and Lucy felt them sucking in a cold whirlwind of Mana. Powerful. Almost Master Class. The Weaver couldn’t afford to send many of those, not yet. So this was likely the only major opponent.
That was all Lucy needed to know.
Her eyes flamed into novas, and Lucy struck a moment before Red and White finished preparing her attack. A telekinetic fist slammed into the armored woman, punching her through the wall, through the hillside outside the wall, up into the air over Vancouver, and far out of sight.
Lucy shook her head and walked down the hall. Red and White wasn’t dead—she’d be too tough for that. And she’d be ready for Lucy next time. Which meant Lucy would have to stay put in the Twisted Chapel for a while. And upgrade the security again.
Not for much longer. Things were moving fast now, but it was all working on a timetable that was better rather than worse.
Another few days and Fool would be here.
Then the real shenanigans could start.