The Game Masters of Garden Place Read online




  Also by Denis Markell

  Click Here to Start

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2018 by Denis Markell

  Cover art copyright © 2018 by Octavi Navarro

  Excerpt copyright © 2016 by Denis Markell

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Name: Markell, Denis, author.

  Title: The game masters of Garden Place / Denis Markell.

  Description: First edition. | New York : Delacorte Press, [2018] | Summary: “When five sixth-graders accidentally summon warriors from their favorite role-playing game to Brooklyn, they are taken on a wild adventure that tests their wits and their friendships”—Provided by publisher.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2017024552 | ISBN 978-1-101-93191-2 (hc) | ISBN 978-1-101-93193-6 (glb) | ISBN 978-1-101-93192-9 (el)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Fantasy games—Fiction. | Role playing—Fiction. | Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. | Friendship—Fiction. | Supernatural—Fiction. | Brooklyn (New York, N.Y.)—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.M339453 Gam 2018 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  Ebook ISBN 9781101931929

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

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  Contents

  Cover

  Also by Denis Markell

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Map

  Prologue: The Depths of Morgorath

  Part 1

  Chapter 1: The Heights of Brooklyn

  Chapter 2: The Dawn of the Reign of Dragons

  Chapter 3: The Fellowship of the RPG

  Chapter 4: Meeting the Prince

  Chapter 5: In the Great Hall of Andromodus

  Chapter 6: A Serpent Unchained

  Chapter 7: Deeper into the World They Go

  Chapter 8: The Knot Unties

  Chapter 9: Who Gets to Tell the Story?

  Chapter 10: Okay, Maybe Not Noel

  Chapter 11: Jojo Loses the Battle

  Chapter 12: Persephone’s Rewrite

  Chapter 13: RPG Is Chosen

  Chapter 14: The Quest to End All Quests

  Chapter 15: Oona and Luna

  Chapter 16: A Golden Gift

  Chapter 17: RPG Gets to the Point

  Chapter 18: Alea Iacta Est

  Part 2

  Chapter 19: The Spell Is Cast

  Chapter 20: Unexpected Guests

  Chapter 21: What in the World?

  Chapter 22: When Nothing Is Left but the Impossible

  Chapter 23: A Meeting of Minds

  Chapter 24: A Decision Is Made

  Chapter 25: What Sorcery Is This?

  Chapter 26: An Encounter with (Too) Friendly Villagers

  Chapter 27: Bram and the Coins of Gold

  Chapter 28: The Ring of Truth

  Chapter 29: The Game of Cups

  Chapter 30: What’s Love Got to Do with It?

  Chapter 31: Oberon Wants His Focaccia

  Chapter 32: Spare Change

  Chapter 33: A Plan or a Plot?

  Chapter 34: The Game Is Discovered

  Chapter 35: Why Are These Women Starving?

  Chapter 36: Oh, That Jandia

  Chapter 37: Just an Ordinary Day

  Chapter 38: Bram Seeks His Revenge but Is Thwarted by an Overbite

  Chapter 39: This Way Down

  Chapter 40: The Fellowship of the Dice

  Chapter 41: Roll for Combat

  Chapter 42: The End of the Campaign

  Chapter 43: A Story Is Told, and Farewells Are Made

  Chapter 44: The End of the Reign of Dragons?

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Excerpt from Click Here to Start (A Novel)

  To Jamie, my favorite game master, whose great adventure is only beginning

  Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom.

  Deep beneath the mountain Morgorath, the stones of the ancient temple echoed with the pounding of the war drums of the Kreel army. It was rumored that the Kreel covered their shields with the skins of their defeated enemies and wore their skulls as trophies.

  The group would learn soon enough.

  Like a demonic heartbeat, the pulse continued, first barely sensed in the distance but getting ever closer, bringing with it the death and desecration known and feared by all throughout the lands of Demos.

  Bram Quickfoot twirled two small daggers between his fingers. One had a bone-white handle, the other a handle of the blackest ebony. The little halfling’s eyes were gleaming. “Salt and Pepper are eager for the fight.”

  The dwarf cleric Torgrim tutted. “Patience, rogue. Don’t wish violence on us too early.” Then he gathered himself, closed his eyes, and began to chant a spell, calling on the god of protection.

  Towering over the cleric, Jandia Ravenhelm unsheathed her two-handed broadsword. “May your prayers protect us.” Her muscles rippled as she cut the air with the giant blade.

  The soft strumming of a harp filled the temple as the sounds of the bard Mirak’s ancient war song began. “The Kreel will fall upon thy sword / Thus have the gods foretold.” The song was welcome, as it always seemed to bring added courage to the listeners.

  The clamor from the advancing Kreel horde was deafening now, almost upon them.

  The four took their positions in view of the temple entrance. Nimbly, Bram leapt up to a rocky ledge above the entrance, where the cunning rogue could choose his targets from the shadows. The cleric finished his oath and pressed his back against the left wall, his massive dwarvish war hammer in hand now, while the bard took position opposite him, calmly stringing her longbow. She grunted softly, feeling the beastly nature of her orc mother rising within her. In quieter times, she would let her human father’s gentler qualities prevail, but this was battle. Jandia Ravenhelm pulled herself up to a rocky outcropping directly above the opening, ready to drop upon the heads of the Kreel as they entered.

  One remained exposed, kneeling and murmuring to himself. Gerontius Darksbane, wizard of the fourth order, held an orb before him that pulsed with energy, emitting a steady glow. At his waist, still in its scabbard, was his elvish blade.

  Within moments, the Kreel burst into the great room, chanting war cries and thirsting for battle.

  Calmly, the wizard Darksbane raised his head. He uttered one word.

  “Sakanta-sh’ia!”

  Fire burst from h
is fingers, engulfing the entire front line of the Kreel. Those behind felt first the arrows of Mirak the bard, released in a deadly precision. Jandia nodded to Bram, and they fell from above together, hacking through Kreel mail as if it were paper.

  Victory did not take long.

  As the adventurers stood panting, there was a darkening at the entrance to the temple. They beheld a sight that had broken the spirit of countless warriors before them: the Komach’Kreel, a monster the Kreel priests had torn from the Abyss.

  “So it does exist,” gasped Torgrim.

  “It would appear so, yes,” chuckled Bram as he pulled Salt and Pepper from the rib cage of one of the Kreel dead.

  Standing a full twelve feet tall, with a whipping tail and fangs dripping with poison, the Komach’Kreel was legendary but almost never seen.

  It took the desecration of the temple to bring him to the adventurers, and it would take all their combined powers to bring him down.

  As they faced the demonspawn, Jandia Ravenhelm spoke. “Guys, I gotta go.”

  Bram’s jaw dropped in annoyance. “What? You can’t just leave!”

  “Look, my mom just texted me,” said Jandia, sheathing her massive sword.

  “Can’t she wait a few minutes?” pleaded Darksbane as he plopped down on the floor. “We just met the Komach’Kreel!”

  Jandia rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding? She’s double-parked. She would literally kill me.”

  Torgrim grinned and planted his ax in the skull of a nearby Kreel. “She wouldn’t literally kill you.”

  Mirak skipped over to Jandia. “Can you drop me? My mom isn’t coming until five.”

  “Sure, of course. Duh,” the barbarian warrior replied.

  Torgrim sighed. “Well, I guess that’s it, then. So we’ll pick this up where we left off next weekend?”

  Ralph Peter Ginzberg sighed again as he began to put away the papers, pencils, dice, and other Reign of Dragons paraphernalia. He and his friends had been playing the game every weekend during the school year for the last three years.

  Jojo had already zipped her warm-up jacket and was looking for her backpack among the pile of coats and book bags by the front door. She was the only one who hadn’t answered.

  “You’ll be here next week, right, Jojo?” he called after her.

  Jojo answered without looking directly at him. She was doing that a lot these days. Ever since she’d joined the sixth-grade gymnastics team, things had changed. “I’m not sure. I mean, we might have a meet or something. Or practice.”

  Noel Carrington looked up from his gaming magazine. Ralph remembered when all he read were Reign of Dragons rule books and fantasy novels. These days he seemed to be more into the newest thing for his gaming console. “You have to be here. We just met the Komach’Kreel!”

  There was the beep of a horn, and Jojo looked out the window of the brownstone’s garden-level front room. She waved at the car idling outside. “I gotta go. Perseph, are you coming?”

  “Yes!” Persephone Chang heaved her knapsack onto her back. She didn’t have any problem finding it in the pile. Between the sparkly Hamilton and Wicked stickers splayed across it, the plush Simba on the strap, and the gigantic size, it was impossible to miss. It was so large that when she wore it, she looked like a walking backpack with two tiny feet attached.

  “Ready to go / To face my fate / The world outside / Will know me!” Persephone sang as she joined Jojo.

  The rest gritted their teeth. It wasn’t that Persephone had a bad voice—on the contrary, she had an amazing voice. It was especially cool hearing all that sound coming out of such a small body. The first dozen or so times she’d sung this particular song, it was enjoyable, but she had been singing it nonstop for weeks now.

  Ralph went to open the door to let the girls out.

  “You have to come,” Ralph persisted.

  “What’s the big deal?” Jojo snapped, her soccer bag socking him in the gut as she pushed past him. “Someone else can play Jandia if I’m not here.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Noel said. “You have to play Jandia! No one is as bloodthirsty or fearless as you!”

  Persephone looked at her friend as she joined her in the doorway. “That is totally true, Jojo.” Her eyes widened. “Wait! I didn’t say goodbye to Cammi!”

  Cameron Sprague had remained silent during all this, which was typical. Persephone rushed over and hugged him. “Do you need a ride too? We can squeeze together.”

  “That’s okay,” Cammi said in a small voice. “My mom is coming to get me in an hour.”

  “We can call her,” Persephone said, “and she can pick you up at my house! Or maybe we can have a sleepover!”

  Persephone certainly wouldn’t have invited any other boy in their grade, but Cammi was different. Most of his friends were girls, and he often spent the night with Persephone or Jojo when his mom and grandmother were working late.

  “No, that’s all right,” Cammi insisted. “She said she’d come.”

  Ralph noticed that Persephone was whispering something in Cammi’s ear. He nodded.

  Just like a wizard, Ralph thought. Cammi loved secrets. Wizards were like that, keeping to themselves, filled with secret knowledge.

  “But you’re coming next week, right?” Noel yelled to Jojo from the couch.

  “I said I don’t know!” Jojo yelled back from the door. “Now can we go?” Her voice sounded as tight as her ponytail, pulled back for sports.

  Persephone ran to the door, caroming off a few walls like a pinball on her way out.

  No one at St. Anselm’s School had more energy than Perseph. Ralph never understood how she was able to sit still during the three hours they normally took to play their adventure every Saturday. Okay, mostly sit still. She did have a habit of breaking into song or dancing around the room. Of course she’d picked a bard. Bards sang magical songs that cast powerful spells on the enemy—that role had Persephone’s name written all over it.

  Ralph turned back to Noel and Cammi once the girls were gone.

  Cammi looked at the floor. “Um, Persephone reminded me to let you know that the play might be starting Saturday rehearsals in a few weeks.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Ralph said, a little louder than he meant to.

  “We’re not sure!” Cammi answered quickly. “That’s why we didn’t want to, you know, say anything until it was for certain.”

  Ralph stared at Cammi. Saturdays had been their day for so long that this was hard to process. “You guys too?”

  “We’ll be here next week,” Cammi promised quickly. “She just wanted me to warn you about…later….And it would just be for a week or two….”

  Ralph slumped down on the couch next to Noel. “Boy, Jojo really doesn’t seem to be as into the game as she used to be.”

  “You think?” laughed Noel, grabbing the last of the chips from the bowl Ralph’s parents always left for them. “Maybe you should roll for a perception check.”

  This was an inside joke among the hard-core players of Reign of Dragons, or RoD, as they called it. In the game, whenever you wanted to do anything, whether it was looking around a room for potential traps or bringing your sword down on a fearsome demon, you had to roll the dice. The higher you rolled, the greater your chances of success.

  Ralph didn’t need to roll the dice to see what was happening around him. It was clear that the game was changing.

  It all started because no one could think of what to do for Ralph’s tenth birthday.

  His parents had been brainstorming for an hour. Being creative types who worked together producing commercials and promotional films for large corporations, they debated the issue like they were spitballing a commercial pitch, throwing around ideas. Ralph had heard them do this hundreds of times, trying to find something that would “grab” the client and nab th
em the job. Now they were trying to come up with something that hadn’t been done yet.

  Noel had had an amazing science-themed party that year, which made sense since his dad worked in a robotics lab.

  Jojo’s party had been at Prospect Park, near her home, where the kids played games of all kinds. It didn’t matter if it was tag or football; somehow Jojo managed to beat everyone, even the largest and sportiest boys.

  Persephone and Cammi, as was their tradition, had shared a party, since their birthdays were so close. Also as was the tradition, all the guests had been roped into creating an original play about twin princesses. Persephone played one, and Cammi, with his long, flowing blond hair, had opted to play the other. His friends were totally cool with this. It was just accepted as part of his wonderful and funny self. As usual, it was quite a production, complete with costumes (it didn’t hurt that Cammi’s grandmother worked as a seamstress on the costumes of Broadway’s biggest shows).

  Considering how different the kids were, it was odd that they’d stayed friends. But they had met in kindergarten, when sometimes all it took to become best buddies was sharing a snack or playing pretend for an afternoon. As they moved onto elementary school it just seemed natural to continue to have playdates and celebrate birthdays together, especially since all the parents had become friends as well.

  Having exhausted their ideas for Ralph’s party (that one was too expensive; this one was too close to what they had done two years ago), his parents were more than receptive when Ralph’s babysitter Declan spoke up.