The conversation soured quickly after that. Michael thought it was his friend's guilty conscience that kept him mute. Ann was caught in a confusing tangle of relief and anger and couldn't be bothered with Michael at all.
They followed the trail of breadcrumbs down the dark hallway to a broken staircase. The breadcrumbs pointed to the shadowed space under the stairs. Further down the hall, a thin bar of light seemed to tease at the possibility of a door.
"We don't have the key yet. Let's explore a little more first," Michael said.
Ann had no objections. The appearance of a door so early in the instance was naturally suspicious.
The stairs arched upward like a cat with its back raised. The space beneath them was large and pitch-black. Ann didn't wait for Michael to fall behind this time and took the initiative to step forward, curious about what they might find in the shadows.
Step by little step, the little doll in the red dress disappeared in the dark.
Michael waited a beat, then two. "Frances?" he tried, but no one answered no matter how long he waited.
The situation under the stairs was indeed strange. As soon as Ann stepped under the staircase, the shadows fell away to a world of color. There were cardboard trees rustling above her and grass made of cotton under her feet. Sloping mountains were painted along the walls and a red sun nestled behind their peaks, on its way to slumber.
Down a pebbled path stood a gingerbread house.
Ann toddled forward cautiously. She was now certain that the story in play was Hansel and Gretel, and had no good feelings about this particular part of the fairytale's plot. A poke at her system menu revealed nothing but error codes and greyed out items. Whether due to the glitch or Ann's unique role in the game, interaction with the system was not possible. Therefore, there was no easy way to verify the relevancy of the gingerbread house to the main plot. The instance had gone on for far too long already. Ann could not in good conscience entertain side-quests, no matter how tempting.
Hriss-hriss, something went. Ann turned toward the sound and froze, staring intently at the massive gray rat nibbling at a cardboard elm a short distance away. The vermin's teeth were yellow and long and cut through the poor tree with terrifying ease. Black drool dripped from its jaws, puddling in a rancid pool at its clawed feet.
The rat's beady red eyes fastened on Ann. It let go of the cardboard tree with a chirp and hopped forward.
Ann sprang for the house. She barreled through the sugarcane door and managed to slam it closed just in time. The giant rat clawed at the outside, squealing in excitement.
The gingerbread walls were thick enough to hold the creature at bay for a while. Ann pushed a bench that seemed to be made of chocolate in front of the door for good measure. When she turned around, she had another fright.
A little doll with human eyes watched her quietly from within a wooden cage. It waved its porcelain hand when it noticed Ann looking.
Ann approached slowly. The little doll was dressed in a smart little suit. Its face was painted with great care, and the hair on its head looked very much real. A little boy in all but flesh.
A very familiar one, at that.
"It's you," Ann muttered.
"It's me," the little boy confirmed obediently.
Ann let out a startled laugh. "Where is your sister?" she asked.
"You have to find her. It's part of the game," the little boy said, confirming that both children were in the instance.
Two was a coincidence, three was a pattern. Ann made a note to bring up the brother and sister with VELES. The company was obviously not starved for content. There was no need to recycle NPCs so obviously – and besides, the little spirits hardly acted the part of preprogrammed avatars.
"Do you remember me?" Ann asked.
The little boy blinked its glass eyes at her. "Big sister," he said, then added hopefully, "Can turn into a puppy?"
"Can't," Ann said quickly.
The boy pouted in disappointment. He obviously remembered Ann from the Werewolf instance, and possibly even from Castle Lona. The mystery around the children's existence deepened.
"Where is your mother?" Ann asked.
The little boy drooped like a wilted flower. When Ann changed the angle and asked after his role in the instance, he shrugged his thin shoulders.
"Is it fun to play?" Ann tried, feeling strangely guilty.
"No," the little boy said.
Stumped, Ann let him be and looked around for clues. The gingerbread house had just the one room, with the little wooden cage tucked in a corner. It was fashioned as a kitchen with a large table as the centerpiece. Ann didn't much like the scratches and gouges in the chocolate surface, or the piles of string and torn cloth and what looked like a loose button scattered in various places.
There was no sign of another NPC. Ann eyed the little stove crackling merrily on the other side of the room. If the witch was already in it, she couldn't tell. The air was too heavy, growing opaque with smoke.
"Is the house burning?" Ann exclaimed.
"Yes," the little porcelain doll said simply.
Ann bit back words not suitable for children's ears. The fire spread gleefully, as if it had been waiting to be noticed. The scratching on the outside also grew more insistent.
Trapped on both sides with time burning out in spurts, Ann struggled to think. There were no clues to be found inside the house. The little doll should therefore be the objective of the stage.
"Do you know where the key is?" she asked.
The little boy nodded smartly. "I'll tell you if you save me." That should be its NPC setting.
Ann took a closer look at the wooden cage. The bars were sturdy and wouldn't budge no matter how she pulled. There was nothing she could use to cut through them, either. The wood would burn in the fire, but so would the little doll. Besides, even if they managed to escape the fire, there was still the rat waiting for them outside...
The rat!
Ann eyed the distance between the door and the cage. "Stand over here," she said. "When the cage opens, I'll grab you and we will run, alright?"
"Okay," the little doll nodded.
"And you must call me big brother from now on," Ann remembered to instruct.
"Big brother," the little doll repeated dutifully.
Ann reached through the bars to ruffle the doll's hair. The boy ducked out of reach in embarrassment.
The front door shook in its frame. The chocolate bench Ann had used to barricade the way was half-melted from the heat, doing very little to keep the door closed.
A claw cracked through the sugarcane panel. Ann hurried to duck behind it, yanking the door open as she did. The rat tumbled inside in a disorientated ball of fur and whiskers. Its worm-like tail lashed in agitation as it righted itself, lashing at the walls.
There was obviously plenty to nibble on in a house made out of sugar. Yet, the rat made a break for the wooden cage almost immediately, confirming Ann's guess about its purpose. Ann waited until two of the bars cracked under the creature's teeth before darting out from behind the door with a shout.
"Hey! Over here!" she screamed, and gave the rat's tail a yank for good measure.
The rat screeched in affront. It darted for her, moving far too quickly. Ann found her hands full trying to avoid the swipe of claws and teeth. Worse, the porcelain doll refused to leave its cage no matter how many times Ann shouted for the boy to go. Apparently, only personally leading the doll out counted as a proper rescue.
At the end of her wits, Ann decided to lure the rat into the fire. There was little hope for her to escape the flames unscathed, but it was either that or becoming a rat chew toy, so she was willing to take her chances. Most of the room was now bright red and more than a little of the walls and ceiling had collapsed. Thankfully, the wooden cage was still untouched. The rat, too, behaved most unnaturally and did not shy away from the heat, determined to get its mouthful of cotton-stuffed doll.
Ann looped closer and closer to the fire. When she stopped at last, the fire was so close at her back she felt her stitching fraying. The rat crouched above her. Its red eyes reflected the fire, as if burning themselves. It waited for her to show her hand and move.
The impasse was broken by a shout. "Duck!" someone screamed.
Ann ducked. The rat pitched forward, struck from behind. It squealed like gutted as it tumbled into the fire. Ann hurried to move away, less she ended up in the creature's path as it escaped. But the rat never did. The fire swallowed it whole and soon, even its pained screeching faded to nothing.
"Let's go," Michael said, panting. Another doll stood beside him, familiar for its glasses and cane.
The porcelain doll did not have the courtesy to cower under Ann's glare. It followed them out readily enough once bid, and just in time – the gingerbread house collapsed in a smoking pile as soon as they crossed the threshold. The fire smothered under the melted ruins, thinning to a few angry embers before puffing out altogether.
"Are you alright?" Michael asked.
"Yeah. Thanks," Ann forced out. The stage would have been much easier to clear with two people working together from the start. She supposed she ought to be grateful that Michael showed up when he did, all things considered, but her distaste for the man didn't allow her to extend him any grace.
Thankfully, her stitched face and the soulless plastic eyes were less than expressive, so Michael took her thanks on face value. "Do you think there're more of them?" he asked.
A familiar little girl toddled up to them, Danny on her heels. Her porcelain face was wreathed in a dimpled smile.
"Big -"
"Big brother," the little boy interrupted.
The little girl didn't even pause. "Big brother!" she chirped as she barreled into Ann with the force of a small torpedo.
Ann shrugged off the curious stares aimed her way. Frances wouldn't notice the attention, and wouldn't care if he did.
The little girl turned her affection to her brother. The two children huddled together, looking at the gathered players with large eyes.
"Where'd you find her?" Ann asked.
Danny bounced on his heels, looking excited. "We saved her from a witch! There was a swamp and frogs that wanted to eat us and this tiny doll was just floating on a lily-pad, like an idiot -"
"Hey!" the little doll protested, stomping her foot in ire.
"Children, let's not bicker," Svetlan sighed wearily. It likely wasn't the first time he'd had to voice that particular plea.
"And the others?" Ann asked.
The players looked at each other in silence.
"Gretel led us here. We didn't meet anyone on the way over," Danny offered.
"We should have been split in pairs. The others may be busy with their own tasks –"
Nine little dolls
Strung on a line
Stitch by stitch they come together
Stitch by stitch they come apart.
Now, eight remain.
The song rose like a sudden tide and fell away just as swiftly, leaving a hollow echo behind.
Svetlan did not continue his thought. The weight of the instance pressed down on them, bowing their shoulders.
"You said that you have the key," Ann remembered.
The little boy nodded. "I have it, too!" his sister chimed in, jumping in place in excitement.
"There're two keys?" Danny asked dubiously.
The little girl nodded. "There's two. You need two to enter daddy's office. So there's two of us."
"Where are the keys?" Michael asked.
The little girl patted her chest. Her hand made a dull thudding sound as porcelain struck porcelain through the fabric of her dress.
"Right here!"
The players stared at the two dolls, then at each other.
"We have to break them to get the keys?" Danny asked.
"They are NPCs," Michael reminded.
Danny pursed his lips. "I'm not doing it."
Michael looked harried. "We're running out of time," he reasoned. "Wasn't the game's objective to speak with the Lord of Cicada Manor? We could well be at the finish line. We can't falter now."
"Perhaps we should look for the others first," Svetlan said.
It was a stalling tactic, and they all knew it. Danny raised his hand in support. "Seconded!"
Michael crossed his arms, unimpressed. Ann hesitated, glancing from one camp to the other. In the end, she couldn't wrong herself for the sake of pretense.
"Let's look. Just for a little while," she added in the face of Michael's incredulous stare.
In the end, it was three to one. Michael agreed to a short search and even volunteered a few clues he had discovered while Ann was trapped in the gingerbread house.
Ann found a way to fall behind with Svetlan while Michael was preoccupied. "Do you know something?" she asked the man.
"It is less what I know and more what we do not. We have been wandering in this place for so long. Have you not wondered whether an exit can be found at all?"
Ann stilled. "You're saying we're trapped?"
Svetlan hummed in amusement. "Not all of us. You had good foresight in selecting your champion. We just need to give him a little more time to work."
Ann's button eyes rounded even further with realization.
The way out was in her painting, and the key –
Was in Frances' hands.