Glitch Kingdom

by Sheena Boekweg

  I threw the dagger through the swirling bones, but a femur knocked the hilt and it lost its trajectory and slid past the Devout.

  Well that was embarrassing. I pressed my pockets. There was another knife somewhere. I knew I grabbed more. I dug into my bag.

  “We’re trapped,” Ryo said, his sword at the ready but his eyes darting back and forth, like he didn’t know what to attack.

  I pushed up my sleeves. “Nah, it’s just a bit windy.”

  The twister of bones drew more Devout and high priests, their black-lined robes marked in red paint, their auras showing black loyalties as they tightened around the bone tornado.

  I found another dagger. “Slice the bones right in front of me!”

  Ryo complied. As soon as his sword cut a hole in the wall, I threw my dagger through the bones.

  It struck right between the Devout’s eyes. Yes!

  The bone-circling wind fell with a clatter, and we were free.

  To face two Devout and a high priest.

  Round two. I wished I’d had time to trade for more weapons. Where was a battle-axe when you needed one?

  I scanned the room. There had to be a cache around with more weapons. Something cool. Something we could use to end this battle.

  “Stop! Vengeance isn’t the answer now!” someone shouted from a wall of green. I recognized the lilting sound of his Scottish accent. Grigfen. “We need unity!” The green auras brightened around him.

  I grabbed Ryo’s arm. “Come on!”

  We ran past the Devout into the center of the open cavern. Stalagmites cut through the ground, and stalactites dripping from the ceilings made floating candles of stone above us.

  In a crowd of Devout marked loyal to him, Grig’s purple aura showed his loyalty to Ryo. He looked so different from the last time I’d seen him, his blond curls shaved close to his scalp. Red dots ran down his nose, and his Devout robes folded over his shoulders like a cape to reveal a sleeveless black tunic tucked into dark green pants. His lean arms were lined with painted bones and his copper eyes shadowed with lack of sleep or guyliner. Health at 32 percent, but skill set maxed.

  Grigfen314.

  Badass.

  “The Undergod gives protection, and comfort,” he preached. “It is our job to emulate him and protect and comfort his followers. Including Prince Ryo. With Edvarg dead, our people need us firm at the Crown’s side.”

  I tugged Ryo behind a rock. But if Grigfen was loyal to Ryo, and all those marked in green were loyal to Grig, then they only needed a small push to shift their loyalties to Ryo. He could handle that. As a Royal class, he’d have the Charisma he needed to shift the loyalties, even the black cloaks of those loyal to Edvarg. If he could pacify them, we could have every Devout on our side.

  But how could he convince them?

  “Give a gift, Ryo,” I said. In Ashcraft the Royal class could offer a gift and change the tide of a war.

  “Is now the time for gifts?” He pressed his pockets. “Besides, they could take this cloak, or my damaged sword, but I have nothing else.”

  “I’ll find something.” I reached into my bag. What did you give the Devout who had everything?

  “I’ve just got to roll the dice.” Ryo lowered his hood and walked into the center. “I’ll stall, and you find me something I can give as a gift.”

  I glared at his back, and then rummaged through my bag.

  The fighting stopped, the NPCs pausing to allow Ryo’s action. His Charisma manifesting. The NPCs wouldn’t wait like this for me.

  He pressed his palm against his chest. “Peace and honor to you for your devotion. I come bearing a gift!”

  What gift? I held up the bag as I stepped out after him, riffling through everything I’d traded for while he tried to stall.

  Grigfen gasped when he saw us, his shadowed eyes grinning. He bowed and pressed his wrist to his forehead. “And to you for your reception, you pile of rat dung.”

  Ryo and Grig clasped each other around the neck.

  I lowered the bag, the gift less important. Grig wasn’t dead and bobbing. He wasn’t imprisoned or sick.

  “Grigfen,” I said.

  “Dags?” He stepped forward and lifted me off my tired feet in a tight hug. He was still strong. My brother was still alive.

  Task completed.

  The shine of my leveling up brightened the cavern. I felt stronger, less tired, like I’d awoken from a full night’s sleep.

  “So what do I give them?” Ryo asked.

  I handed him my bag. “Something that shows you understand what they value.”

  “Is there a naked woman in—”

  I punched his arm.

  Grig watched our exchange with his eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing with Ryo?”

  Ryo dug through my bag. “One moment,” he said to the crowd, holding up a finger. “Where is that gift?”

  I lowered my voice. “Edvarg summoned the King’s Executioner to kill him.”

  His shoulders drooped. “Sorry I wasn’t there. How’d you find me?”

  “I drank seer water, and it showed me the way,” I answered. I reached into a pocket and handed him a hibisi bloom. “Mind your health.”

  Grig palmed the blossom and glanced over his shoulder. I blocked the crowd from him as he ate. His health raised 25 percent. I gave him another.

  “You are a traitor, Ryo ne Vinton,” a high priest marked in black said. “A blasphemer who spoke against the Holiest. Why shouldn’t we kill you right now?”

  Ryo stilled and then dropped my bag. He took a deep breath, and I hoped for one second that he could use his Charisma and charm them to our side.

  But I’d met him, so I made a plan B.

  “You need to drink seer water as soon as you can,” I whispered at Grig. “Have you seen any?”

  He grabbed my arm. “The cup Ryo brought,” he whispered eagerly. “It’s still in the Holiest’s office.”

  “Where?”

  Grig pointed behind us, and the arrow at the top of my vision spun deeper into the dark cavern behind us. Find the seer water.

  Great.

  “I know what to do,” Ryo said softly. He raised his voice. “The Undergod has marked me worthy. Edvarg is dead. He did not come back from death, but I have.”

  Oh no.

  “Prove it!” a Devout said.

  “I’ve seen it happen,” Grig shouted. “A bone spear struck through his neck, and an instant later, he was free, with no injury.” A few Devout loyalties shifted green at his words.

  Ryo reached for a dagger. “You value miracles,” he said. “I will show you one.”

  No. I ran forward. “Don’t!” I hissed.

  “It’s all right, Dagney.” Ryo held his knife to his wrist. “The Undergod will bring me back again.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  The Devout behind us chattered at the delay. One by one the green auras dimmed and darkened.

  Ryo studied their faces. “I have to do it.”

  He sliced his wrist, the skin flayed almost an inch deep, deep enough I could see his bone.

  No!

  I threw my hand over the cut, as if covering it would erase it. The idiot. The idiot. I shoved a handful of hibisi into his protesting mouth. He fought me off.

  “He has no faith,” a high priest said. She stepped forward and pointed. “He relies on the Savak healing flowers!”

  Around us the Devout’s loyalties shifted black.

  Every single one.

  I shoved Ryo. “RUN!” I took off after him into the cavern’s darkness, following the arrow only I could see.

  As the very shadow of death chased after us.

  9

  DAGNEY

  The moron. The absolute idiot.

  Hi, I’m in the middle of a battle, let me kill my own self, I mocked him to myself as I ran.

  At least now we had Grigfen in our party.

  Grig spread his fingers and the blood on my palm shot forward, twisting in front of him
, before he threw his hand in front of him, sending the blood and a wave of bones from behind us flying forward. He formed a barrier.

  Solid. Well made.

  It took nearly five seconds for them to break through it.

  We ran forward into the dark. I had the arrow before me, and Grigfen knew these catacombs, but Ryo ran with only his trust in our footsteps.

  He clutched his wrist to his chest. The healing should help him.

  It had to.

  A strange mist rose from a line at the horizon. I glanced over my shoulder at the priests and the Devout and their skeleton army chasing after us.

  Four out of ten. Would not play again.

  Ryo thrust his hand across my stomach and stopped my run.

  We’d reached an end of a canyon.

  No, not a canyon. The edge of the Undergod’s pit. Looking down, I could see ghostlight rising from the rotting bodies of the dead below. Our people brought their dead to this pit, and as their bodies rotted, ghostlight formed.

  The Devout drew closer, and the arrow in my mind pointed straight across the pit.

  “We can’t go around,” I said.

  Grig swallowed. He gave a nod. “Well this is a fine kettle.” He thrust his hand forward and raised bones from the pit until a thin bridge formed across the whole of it. “Quick, I’ll hold up a bridge.”

  Oh crap. I hated this trope.

  But there wasn’t time to argue. I took a breath and stepped forward. The bones bobbled under my weight, but Grig’s power held them up.

  “Go quick now,” he said, his face straining with pressure.

  I leapt forward. Don’t look down, I told myself, and then I shook my head and looked down all I wanted. That was a cliché. This whole thing was a cliché, and I hated Nao Takagi so much for coming up with it. A femur slid beneath my boots and I growled under my breath and rushed forward, propelled by the power of sheer annoyance. My hands lifted at my side to keep my balance like this was a tightrope, and I was a cliché. She could do better. Ashcraft was a visual masterpiece, and so much more creative than this ridiculous game. Sure, the graphics were immersive, and whatever, but this whole story left a lot to be desired, and relying on heights? Yes, some people were afraid of heights, like me, possibly, but do better. Some people were afraid of peanut butter. Couldn’t this be a soft leisurely wade through a river of peanut butter? That would be way more creative.

  Behind me, Ryo stepped on the bones. The whole bridge under me shook with his steps. My knees were made of goo and my thighs ached and I hated this.

  The pit was too deep to show the bodies, just green mist and gray shadows that seemed vaguely human. Don’t look at the dead things. Keep going.

  The Devout reached the edge and started a hymn I’d never been taught. Grig ran after us.

  The bone bridge dropped a foot lower.

  Pieces of bones disappeared under my feet. My stomach sunk and I fell forward to my knees, and used my utter hatred of this cliché to propel me forward and all the way across.

  When I reached solid ground on the other side, I hit the dirt on all fours and sent an apology to Ms. Takagi for all the yelling. Not that she could hear me. Could she hear my thoughts? It didn’t matter.

  Ugh.

  The Devout sent a wave of ghostwinds, making the bridge oscillate like a snake slithering its neck. More sections of the bone bridge fell.

  Ryo’s face was green as he clutched the swerving bridge, though maybe that was all the ghostlight keeping it up.

  I reached forward. “You’re so close! Jump!”

  He leapt for me. Our fingers slid against one another, but I grabbed him hard and yanked backward. My heels dug into the dirt, his weight sliding me forward. My arms strained from the effort, but his feet found the cliff’s edge and he climbed. Loose dirt slipped under his steps. I pulled back with all my strength. I wasn’t going to let him fall.

  He landed on top of me, his weight heavy on our entangled legs, his breath sweet and warm on my cheeks. His jaw grazed my lips.

  And suddenly I didn’t seem to hate this trope quite so much.

  No. Come on. Growing feelings for someone while you were in mortal danger was like the biggest cliché of them all, so no. No to his damaged heart, perfect swooping hair, and false jawline, and no. Just no.

  The pressure lightened as he hauled himself off me.

  We both climbed to the edge. Grigfen was only halfway across. His health percentage was fading fast with all the magic he was using. Only a few floating bones still hovered for him to make his way across on.

  I couldn’t hold them up for him.

  “Grig!” I shouted, my voice raw. He had to make it. He had to be okay.

  “I know you can do this!” Ryo shouted by my side. “I need your help, and as your prince, I command you to jump!”

  Grig looked at us and nodded, the purple aura marking his loyalty growing brighter. His healing slowed its drain, and he leapt onto the last bone—a skull that didn’t seem quite human, some seven feet away from the edge where we waited.

  I was not going to let my brother die. “Grab my waist,” I said. Ryo locked his arms around my stomach. “Jump, Grig!”

  I threw myself forward as Grig took a mighty leap, his hands extended behind him, shooting a green mist of ghostlight back, propelling him to me. Ryo’s arms restrained me as I grabbed on to any part of Grig’s clothes I could hold. My tired arms rebelled, and his robes slipped out of my grasp. He flung his arm around my neck. Ryo roared and rocked us all backward, dragging us into a tangled pile of limbs and cloaks and heaving breaths on the safety of the other side.

  I threw both hands in the air. “We did it.”

  Ryo exhaled. “And may we never have to do it again.”

  “Amen, brother,” Grig whimpered.

  I gripped Grig’s shoulder and sighed. He was okay. We were all okay.

  What would those punks at school say if they saw me now? Huddled with two of the most handsome boys I’d ever seen, though my memories as Lady Dagney wanted me to stab my eyes with her knitting needles for thinking our brother was attractive.

  I pressed myself up and shook off the dust.

  Across the pit, the Devout argued about what to do with us, half already walking around the pit. I offered my hand to Ryo to help him up.

  I checked their health. Leveling up had raised them both to almost full bars.

  “Come on,” I said. “We need to get Grig his seer water.”

  We walked inside a bone-walled tunnel. Grig summoned a ball of green ghostlight, which kept the mood remarkably spooky, especially as the labyrinth soundtrack started again.

  “Have you both had the seer water?” Grig asked.

  Ryo sighed. “Don’t get her started.”

  “I have,” I said. Ryo gave a half smile.

  The arrow behind my eyes spun left so I gestured, and Ryo followed after me.

  Grig hesitated then followed my lead. “What did you see in the—Ah!”

  My heart clenched. A Historian stood at the end of the tunnel, where the pathways forked. A woman Historian, judging by the way her raven-feather cloak curved around the small set of her shoulders. The green light lit her silver mask and sent shadows where the eyes should have been. She raised a spindly finger to the left.

  My arrow pointed right.

  “The placement of the bones indicates we should turn right,” Grigfen said. “If you get lost, pay attention to the stacking of the bones; there’s always an arrow point showing which way to turn.”

  The Historian shook her head and pointed left again. There was nothing down the hall. Was she warning us against something?

  Ryo’s forehead creased as he met my eye, and then he shrugged.

  “What are Historians?” I studied the Historian as we crept closer. Her aura betrayed no sign of her loyalties, and no player indicator hovered over her head. “Can we trust her?”

  “I don’t know if we can,” Ryo answered. His arm was warm next to mine. “They’ve
always stayed out of the Crown’s business. I’ve never seen one help anyone before.”

  Grig’s back bumped against mine. He guarded our backs, ready to pull at the bones if the priests or the Devout caught us.

  “I think we should go right,” I said.

  The Historian shook her head, the silver mask waving back and forth. She pointed again to the left.

  “They’re Whirligigs.” Ryo’s lower lip disappeared behind his teeth.

  “What?” Grig screwed up his face. “But they look so human.”

  Ryo brushed his chin with his index finger. “I believe they are a combination of Devani magic and Mechani skill. They were made to watch and record our history in the great book.”

  Interesting. “They watch, but don’t interact.” This was a video game. Why would there be characters written in simply to observe? I tiptoed closer. Unless … “Are you behind a screen?”

  She nodded.

  She was from outside the game. “We go left,” I announced.

  The Devout drums pounded closer, and we turned left.

  Grig’s ghostlight dimmed, leaving us in pitch black.

  “It was a bloody trick,” Grig’s voice shouted.

  “No. It wasn’t. Grab hold.” I grabbed a hand and what was probably Grig’s robe and stepped forward into the dark. We walked forward until a warm yellow light highlighted an open door and a bone wall passage hidden behind shadows.

  We turned and saw a different door, this one made of iron and edged with skulls and candlelight.

  “The office of the Holiest?” Grigfen said. “But that was still several turns away.”

  “She found us a shortcut,” I said. The Devout drumming was muffled by the distance. They were still coming for us, but we had a major head start now.

  Ryo opened the iron door and Grig rushed inside. “This room has been sealed since Edvarg’s flame snuffed out.”

  He lit a candle and I entered.

  The room smelled of dried blood. A bone stuck through the door frame. Ryo flushed pale. He closed the door behind us and then grabbed a rolled parchment from the desk.