Chương 84: 82: The Selfish Choice

Pen had a class choice that was selfish?

"Oh, you should definitely take that one, then," I said promptly. She raised her head and stared at me, green eyes wounded.

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"No. Not at all. If you have a choice you like—" I stopped talking, trying to find the tactful words. The ones that said, "Girl, you've lost everything except your cat and your shoes. You've given up your home, your family. Your father is dead, and so is at least one brother. You don't have to sacrifice yourself on the altar of duty. You're allowed to grab whatever happiness you can find." Except without, you know, saying any of that. Pity would be almost as bad as sarcasm.

"Your class choice will, we hope, last you for a long time. Years, probably. It should be something you like, not something that's right for the next few days." My thoughts flickered to Rebecca Mercer. She'd taken the Healer class for her children, but she was Level 1. She'd get a chance to rethink at Level 5, or maybe the System would offer her some kind of combo class, like Jack's Shadow Mage, combining Rogue and Mage. Pen would be stuck with her class for at least the next sixteen levels, probably more.

"What is the class? Is it something good? It must be if you like it so much that you think it'd be selfish to take it." Pen turned a little pink. She hadn't blushed when Nat and I were commenting on her looks, so this was apparently more embarrassing than that.

"It's called Thorn's Warden, and it's real nice." She laughed sheepishly, blushing harder.

"Here's the description." Clearing her throat, she focused on her interface and read, " You are the thorn that tends the wild. You keep watch over those who cannot speak for themselves, and in their trust, you find your own voice."

"That does sound nice," I said.

"And that could be a healer class. Unconscious people can't speak for themselves."

"Yeah, but that's not who it's talking about. This is the ability I'd get with it.' Warden's Accord: Establish temporary bonds of mutual understanding with willing animal allies. While the accord holds, the warden and allies may share simple intent, emotional state, danger awareness, and basic tactical direction. Beneficial effects used by the warden may extend to bonded allies.'" I slapped my hand to my heart. Animal communication! It was exactly what Pen had wanted.

"How many attribute points do you get?"

"Two to Intelligence, two to Serendipity, and two free."

"That's a great class. It is not selfish to take it. It's responsible. You'll be able to protect Gus and Bear and maybe even the other dogs while they're protecting you." She beamed at me.

"All right, I'm gonna do it." Her eyes glazed over as she returned to her interface. It took her a little longer than I expected it to, and a succession of expressions passed over her face while she did: a smile, a furrowed brow, a slight frown, a twisted mouth. I wanted to interrupt and find out what she was considering, but I waited patiently. (Okay, a little impatiently. But politely.) Finally, she sighed and came back to herself.

"I really wanted to put my free points into Serendipity," she said.

"Warden's Accord lets me have one ally for every 5 points of Serendipity, and I only have 9 right now." She smiled at Bear, still hiding under a nearby cot.

"It's gonna be so fun when I can understand her, too. We can kill all the bugs, even those jumpy ones." She gave a little shudder at the memory.

"Why didn't you?" I asked.

"Intelligence makes more mana." She glanced around at the beds.

"There's a lot of people here and iffen I can't just wave my hand and magic them all better at once, I can still fix 'em up slow."

"I can help with that." I reached into my pouch and pulled out one of the universal translation ability stones.

"This'll give you a bunch of XP, maybe three levels worth, and maybe a permanent 10% boost. But don't take the levels until you've emptied out your mana pool with as many Mends as you can."

"Are you sure you want to give that to me? Don't you need it yourself?"

"I used one already." Pen still hesitated.

"That's real generous of you, but you've already given me so much." I had? I was pretty sure everything I'd given Pen technically belonged to the theoretical owners of the Dollar General. Possibly I shouldn't mention that to her, though: if she thought we were stealing, she might insist on paying, and that would just be silly. Instead I gestured at the bodies and the beds around us.

"Consider it part of your paycheck for all your hard work."

"Oh, but I can't—""Every minute you argue is another minute your patients are waiting to be healed."

"I—all right. Yes'm." She took the stone and absorbed it into her skin with wide-eyed wonder. Was I turning into a bully? Was it a side effect of becoming powerful? Was that why so many powerful people were assholes? Eh, probably not. But I added 'Notice if you're being a bully' to my mental health wellness list, right next to 'Is that self-aggrandizing?' and 'Does life seem pointless?' You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

I was used to watching my own behavior with a critical eye, always trying to stay balanced in the middle of the seesaw. I'd watch this, too. I didn't want to make Pen do things 'for her own good.' She should make her own decisions. Even if, in this case, I was absolutely right. Pen returned to her Mending, and I glanced down at Bear.

"You ready to go explore?" Bear wiggled forward, staying low to the ground. Yes, explore. Yes, we go. I turned back to Emma. She was glaring into space, presumably at the PIC I couldn't see.

"Hey," I interrupted her fuming.

"You'll keep Pen safe? I'm going to go find Jack."

"You're just going to—" She stared at me.

"Yeah, okay. I'll do that. And you'll… do you." She sighed before returning to her glaring. I trusted Emma, but just to be sure, I stopped Nat on my way out.

"You'll keep an eye on Pen?"

"Along with every guy past puberty and every woman who swings that way at least once in a while? Sure thing," she responded. I winced.

"No, seriously. She's—""Yeah, I got it, and I will."

"No, but—""I've got it. Really. I—" Nat shot a glance in Pen's direction and shook her head.

"She'd be a treasure even if she weren't—" She spiraled her hand in the air.

"—you know. So, yes, I will make sure that she is supervised by someone appropriate every second of the day."

"I'm hoping I won't be gone that long."

"And if you are, she'll be locked up in a metaphorical Rapunzel's tower when nighttime comes. I won't leave her on her own." I knew it was sort of ridiculous to be so worried. But honestly, only sort of. I knew girls with curves less perfect than Pen's who'd started getting harassed at twelve years old. By the time they were Pen's age, they carried bear spray, switchblades, and cell phones set to auto-dial 911. But Pen thought she had five brothers around to protect her.

Nat and Emma were going to have to be adequate substitutes. Well, and Gus, too, but I really hoped Pen wouldn't have to rely on Gus. And if she did, I hoped Gus absolutely slaughtered whoever he'd defended her from.

"Oh, and hey—" Nat pulled out the dagger I'd lent her from the bag she'd stashed it in.

"Thank you for this and—" She gestured with the knife, then flipped it and extended it to me handle out. She'd gotten a lot more comfortable with it after killing a bunch of giant cockroaches.

"—and, you know, everything else, too. The mayor and the formula and the food and the levels and that, ah, achievement, and…" She trailed off, sounding more uncomfortable with every word.

"ALL the things," I said, echoing the meme. Nat's grin was wry.

"Yeah, that."

"Tell the truth, your favorite thing was when I took the police chief's gun away." She laughed.

"No, no, my favorite is definitely your angel." She waved toward the central building where the angel still hovered.

"Ugh. It'll go away soon, I'm sure."

"Aw, I think it adds such a nice touch to the decor." I half laughed, half grimaced, and took my dagger back from her.

"Seriously, though, thank you," she said, as she let it go.

"It's been… well, a little hope is a powerful thing." Now I was the one feeling awkward, so I just mumbled something stupid, then checked for the dogs. Zelda was at my heels, as always, and Bear was right behind her, but Riley was busy making friends. A group of kids had him surrounded and were snuggling into him like he was their favorite stuffy. I whistled, and he shook them off—politely, of course—and hurried to join us. I strode to the gate, dogs surrounding me.

Part of me was still trying to think of something better to say to Nat than whatever I'd actually mumbled, but most of the rest of me was in the future already, sorting my to-do list. Interrogate Chelsea about quests. Check on my house and make sure another brother wasn't impaled on my bougainvilleas. Figure out what Ellie had meant by cascades, if I could. Retrieve Jack. And yeah, that last was the priority. But people were noticing me.

Nodding to me, saying hello, looking as if the slightest hesitation would be an invitation to conversation. I walked faster. At the shimmer of the gate, I paused to appreciate the chaos still going on outside. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but the mayor was visible, yelling at the police chief. Had they really been fighting this entire time? Oh, right. It felt longer for me because I'd been in Ellie's frozen-time zone. In real time, barely an hour had passed.

The mayor probably had a sore throat by now, but it wasn't too much of a surprise that she was still shouting. I would have liked to watch, but the people huddled around the shimmer were like rubberneckers at an accident scene, and they were starting to look in my direction. If I stayed, I'd inevitably get drawn into conversation. Instead, I stepped into the shimmer, selected my RMI, and entered my coffee shop, dogs in tow. And then I heaved a sigh of relief.

I would be okay with not talking to any more people for a long time. Like, think days, not hours. Retrieve Jack was still first on the priority list, though. But maybe I could have a cup of tea before I got started?

"It is not my fault," System Chelsea said, as if continuing a conversation we'd been in the middle of.

"She wasn't wrong, but I'm supposed to follow guidelines.

""Is this about the quests?"

"She was right about the reports, though. I should have told you that. And that I'm always able to hear you. But you wouldn't have liked it." I had a strong feeling that Chelsea was continuing a conversation she'd been playing in her head ever since our meeting with Ellie. Could Personalized Interface Constructs over-think? I moved toward the counter.

"All will be forgiven for a cup of tea."

"In your favorite mug? I did make that for you, you know." Chelsea sounded the tiniest bit plaintive.

"I know, and yes, please." Zelda pawed at my leg. Dog treats, too. We want chews. Bear's tail started moving the back half of her body. Chews! Yes, chews! Riley plopped his butt on the ground and held up a paw, politely inviting a shake. It was his earliest trick, required for a chew in years gone by, and still the way he informed me that it was that time of day. I reached into Zelda's Bag o' Treats, the real name of the pouch I'd been using to lug around the contents of the Dollar General, but then paused.

Zelda's bag dispensed magically created treats. It wasn't like I'd stashed a stockpile of them in there to draw from. What would happen if I tried to visualize a different kind of treat, the kind Zelda wanted now? Carefully, I pictured her favorite longer-lasting treat, chicken jerky on a pseudo-rawhide stick, and thought, chew. It appeared in my hand, exactly as I'd envisioned it. I looked at it for a second, then decided I was not gonna think too hard about what had just happened. Magic was weird.

I handed Z her treat, then pulled out two more and gave them to Riley and Bear. Chelsea passed my tea mug to me. I cupped my hands around it and took a moment to breathe in the lightly fragrant steam. I should feel great about what I'd accomplished. Okay, I hadn't told Pen about her brother, that was a fail.

But I'd found Emma, freed her from the political machinations of her local would-be Machiavelli, gotten her a couple levels and an achievement, helped her friend jump a bunch of levels, and brought a healer to her enclave. Hell, I'd even stopped that poor baby's crying, which everyone in the enclave ought to be thanking me for. So why did I feel so… sad. Yeah, sad was the word for the way I felt.

"You gave up the easier path. You took the harder road. Helping people is worthwhile, but you're still allowed to grieve for the path you didn't take." I blinked at Chelsea. Or, you know, an artificial mana construct masquerading as my former therapist.

"Holy shit. I think she said that exact thing to me when I was getting over my divorce. Not the helping people part, but about being allowed to grieve for the path not taken." She smirked at me.

"I did good, huh?"

"You sounded just like her." Was that good? I wasn't sure.

"Do you want me to tell you if you start bullying Pen?" I blinked at her again. Right. She could read my mind even when she wasn't present, because she was actually always present. That… well, it was what it was. It wasn't that much different from my iPhone, after all.

"There's an app for that?" I kept my tone light.

"Exactly. Just think of me as your friendly neighborhood do-it-all app." My tea had cooled enough that I could take a sip, so I did, contemplating. I was in the System. I couldn't change it. I couldn't beat it. All I could do was do my best to play its game. And win. I could try to win. I set my tea mug back down on the counter with a sharp click of porcelain against glass.

"Okay, so tell me about quests."