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“It’s just me now,” Hugo said. “My parents passed.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He nodded. “It’s been a few years, but thanks.”
“Are you paid to do this work?” Theo asked.
“Well, sure. There’s an annuity. A trust was created when the machine was first built. The bank’s the trustee, and I get paid to keep the machine ready and in order. The bank handles the insurance and property taxes and that kind of thing.” Hugo swayed a little.
Theo reached out a hand to steady him. “You okay?”
“Sorry, yeah.” He breathed in and out a couple of times. “We’ve been running this game for, like”—he checked his screen—“dang, twenty-eight hours. I think my blood sugar’s low.”
“How about I get you some juice or something?” Petra offered, gesturing to the hallway. “Kitchen that way?”
“Yeah, that would be great. Kale-pear juice, please.”
She curled her lip but disappeared down the hall.
“Let’s sit,” Theo said, and pulled the gaming chair over for him. Hugo took a seat, ran a hand through his hair.
“Thanks.”
“So twenty-eight hours,” Theo repeated. “You haven’t checked the screen or your... machinery... in the last day?”
“Nah. Questing takes all the attention. We’ve got twelve in our band, and we’ve been working toward this for a while now.”
Petra came back with the drink, offered it to him. He took it, sipped, and seemed to steady himself.
“Thanks. Too much caffeine, not enough real food. Anyway, why are you here about the machinery? Are you checking the ward? Nothing’s happened in the entire time I’ve monitored—or for a couple of generations back. One of the great-great-greats had an attempted breach, but it’s been a while.”
That explained why he’d felt comfortable going off-line to go online for a full day.
Petra flipped through her screen, found what she needed, then offered the screen to Hugo. “Does she look familiar?”
Hugo leaned forward, gave the photo a look. I saw no recognition in his face.
“No. She’s pretty. Who is she?”
“She is a demon.” Petra put her screen down. “Her demon name is Eglantine. She’s gone by Rose Doerman lately. Hugo, the machine was triggered yesterday. She triggered it.”
He looked a little—I think “puce” was the word—about the face. “Are you kidding me?”
“No,” I said, and told him what we’d seen. By the time I was done, his face had lost all color.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. She triggered the machine?”
“She did,” Petra said. “There’s a proximity trigger, yes?”
He nodded, tears glistening in his eyes. “Yeah. That’s how it works.”
“She got close, and the machine triggered.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“Some injuries and a lot of property damage. No one was killed.”
“What about the demon? Did it get her? Is she dead?”
