“Ohmagod, Dawn,” Reavyr thought, approximately one-tenth of a second before the half-elf, who was traveling backward with hard-to-comprehend speed, struck her in the chest. They flew backward together. Unable to alter their flight, Reavyr wrapped her arms around Dawn, hoping the ferocious kick hadn’t killed her, and stared at the bottom of the giant boot as it struggled to withdraw from the hallway.

  After what seemed like seconds but could have been only the blink of an eye, Reavyr landed hard on her back, and Dawn’s weight impacted her a second time. Feeling as though her chest had collapsed, Reavyr rolled to her left and released Dawn’s body, which slumped onto its front, Reavyr’s arm and naginata still pinned beneath it.

  Reavyr tried to suck in air but nothing came. She couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t she breathe, she thought, noting her own panic. Her free right hand found the neck of her leather armor and pulled at it, but it was not constricted. She just couldn’t find air.

  Gyl’s face appeared above hers. The caster glanced at Reavyr’s chest and placed a light hand there for a moment.

  “You’re ok, you’re ok. You’ve just had the wind knocked out of you.”

  Reavyr was still clawing at her neck, trying to find whatever was suffocating her.

  “Calm down, calm down! It’s happened to me before playing soccer, and I know it’s scary as flip, but just wait a second. Your diaphragm is spasming or something, and it’ll sort itself out in a minute.”

  A heavy grating sound of metal on stone caused Gyl to look toward the doorway, and Reavyr tried to process what Gyl had said. She forced her hand to stop its frantic clawing and closed her eyes. She was starting to feel lightheaded, and bright dots swam in the darkness behind her eyelids.

  “Uuuuhhhhhhhh,” Reavyr suddenly was able to inhale, and she kept sucking in air until her inhalation became stuttered and she could hold no more. She released a breath and took another.

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  “See,” Gyl said, still looking down the hall. “You’re ok.” She kept staring for a few seconds. “She’s a big girl, that one.”

  Something inside Reavy’s chest ached in a way she couldn’t remember ever having felt before, but she made herself raise her head and look toward the door. She stared for a moment and then lowered her head back to the floor and gazed at the stone ceiling. The one giant—literally giant—eye staring through the door at the end of the hall was something she did not want to look at any longer.

  “How did a full-grown giant—full-grown frost giant, if I’m not mistaken—get into that room…” Gyl said.

  Reavyr coughed and took a careful breath.

  “…I mean, particularly since Dawn warded it.”

  “I will give you,” Reavyr said quietly, trying to avoid triggering another painful cough, “one guess.”

  Gyl scrunched her nose and, after looking down the hall for a few more seconds, looked down at Reavyr. “That’s your mom, isn’t it?”

  “You aren’t going to call her by her in-game name, Gyl?”

  Gyl frowned, and her eyes shifted focus as she called up her UI to check the Party Log for information. Her frown deepened, and then her focus shifted back to Reavyr. “No, I don’t think I am.”

  Curious, Reavyr opened her UI and scanned the logs.

  Jester (frost giant) kicks Dawn for 31 points of damage.

  Reavyr closed her UI and looked at Gyl. “Don’t want to be saying ‘Jester, frost giant’ a lot in here?”

  Gyl shook her head.

  “It’d break the in-game magic?”

  Gyl nodded.

  “Plus, who knew ‘jester’ could be a Primary Class?”

  “Not me,” Gyl said quietly. “Why would she choose that?”

  “Because apparently,” Reavyr said, “she’s hilarious.”

  Gyl nodded.

  “This is what it’s like playing with them,” Reavyr said.

  Gyl pursed her lips.

  “All the time,” Reavyr said.

  Gyl nodded.

  “Would you be willing,” Reavyr said before taking several cautious breaths, “to ease up a tad on the in-game role playing and still do our best but not freak out if someone—my parents, me, high-level AIs who know this world is a construct in ours—say something anachronistic?”

  Gyl nodded.

  “Thank you,” Reeve said.

  Millie nodded again.

  Reeve closed her eyes. “Now, please tell me that my mother did not just kill Dawn.”

  “I will check,” Millie said, her expression not one that inspired great confidence, and stood to step across Reeve.