Glitch Kingdom

by Sheena Boekweg

  “That’s bloody awesome,” Grig said as he replaced his cloak with one he’d found in a trunk.

  I smiled without showing my teeth. “I also know where the Breastplate of Healing is, but I swore never to reveal its location, for the wearer could live forever. If I had the boots, I could get it. Probably. But in order to get the boots, we’d need the Gloves of Freedom, which we gave to the King’s Executioner for safekeeping. They can open any door. Or crypt.”

  Dagney touched the pockets at her hips and opened her bag. “And what will you trade me for them?” She flashed the gloves like they were a trophy.

  “Come on, I just revealed a royal secret. That has to be worth something.”

  She shrugged a pretty shoulder. “But is it worth my King’s Executioner’s gloves, kept secret in my family for a generation?”

  “I’d throw in this cloak as well. Many women would value seeing me with my shirt off.”

  She rolled her eyes. “How about I give the gloves to you if you promise to stay clothed.”

  “Deal.” I took the gloves in my hand, and my skin lit. It wasn’t a brightening of torchlight; something had made my own skin turn lantern.

  Grig put his feet down. “You don’t want the armor for yourself?” he asked his sister.

  She bit her lip. “I guess I’m Team Ryo,” she mumbled.

  “That’d explain all the purple.”

  She looked down at her bare arms and groaned.

  I raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

  She glared hard. “Nothing.”

  Didn’t seem like nothing to me. I fought a smile and looked at the golden gloves. They’d seemed large on Dagney’s hands earlier, but when I put them on, my skin tingled, and they fit as though tailored for me. Solid metal on the outside, but the inside seemed lined with calf skin. Carved with Devani symbols, and imbued with history.

  I wore a piece of the Armor of Irizald. Perhaps my father’s faith in me had been well placed after all.

  “Oh no, I’ve seen that look,” Grig said.

  “What look?” Dagney asked.

  “Ryo at full power. It usually means a prank is in order.”

  I grinned. “Don’t be foolish, Grig. A prank’s always in order.”

  “That’s not funny.” Dagney glared at me. “We still have to exit a labyrinth level with an army of pissed enemies searching for us, and once we get out, we still have to get through a world full of traps to find the armor before the source code corrupts or before the queen of the Savak finds it. This is not the time for a prank.”

  “How about a question instead?” I asked. They looked at me with tested patience. “Does anyone else hear drumming?”

  12

  MCKENNA

  The large ship shifted beneath my feet, the dark waves crashing against the hull, hiding my sneaking footsteps. I stepped in time with the soundtrack. It was so dark, I didn’t need to turn my invisibility on, but I still did because it was dramatic as all heck to step out of the shadows and reappear, look side to side, and then disappear again.

  For sure they’d use that shot in the promotional materials.

  The tips of my Wingship scraped against the wooden deck as I sneaked into the cabin of the boat. Sailors slept on hanging hammocks, or lounged out on the floor, while one girl slept in a large rolled mattress. She seemed young for a player, maybe fourteen. And small. A slip of a girl dressed in a plain muslin dress, freckled across the nose, her hair braided at both sides and loose curls at the top. Nothing very special, except for the player indicator hanging above her.

  I flicked my wrist and a dagger shot into my palm.

  Stealth mode, I thought. The soft hum sounded. I stepped around the snoring sailors, lifting my black cape so it wouldn’t trail over their slobbering faces. I crept to the sleeping girl and stood over her, with my dagger raised.

  Stealth mode ended, as though someone pulled a cloak of invisibility off my face. “You made it too easy, Catherine,” I said.

  The girl woke. I lunged for her, but a hand shot out of nowhere and shoved my stomach hard. I tripped over a sleeping body and fled back. The player indicator rose, and it wasn’t over the girl. Instead, it hovered over a young woman who’d slept behind the mattress—her skirt covered in fringe, her shaggy hair mussed from sleeping, and her mouth twisted into a dangerous snarl.

  That made more sense. I wish I’d been able to find her photo before. I flicked my wrist, but by the time the dagger snapped to my palm, the player was on me. She punched my jaw. Clawed at my hair. I shoved backward. My wings carried me toward the ceiling. The NPC sailors awoke with angry startled grunts.

  Stealth on.

  I flew back, toward the exit. The men on the boat surrounded the young girl, blocking her and the player with their bodies. My chance to knock Catherine out of the game while she slept was gone.

  “You can’t have her,” she shouted, searching the room for me, but not finding me. “My young queen will take back the Devani throne, and not one soul can stop our rebellion.”

  She must not have drunk the seer water yet. Once she had game vision she’d be harder to tag out, especially since I almost caught her. She’d watch for me closer than I watched the standby line last time I went to New York.

  This was bad. The Savak queen’s reputation would be damaged by this failed attempt. I couldn’t let anyone know how off this had gone, or else my stats would drop. I had to be scary. Who would buy a game with a weak queen? They’d shift the marketing focus toward the heroes, and I’d be edited out of the commercials. I couldn’t let news get out, no matter what I had to do to keep it silent.

  I closed my eyes.

  You practice what you perform. Every time I’d get caught with a dose of stage fright, Ms. Fields told me those words. I’d practiced enough. Catherine was one of the lower-ranked players. I’d run all the tutorials, researched the players, tailored my wings to the highest stats I could. So all that planning should work out now that it counted.

  The humming stopped.

  Sailors shouted when they spotted me.

  I opened my eyes.

  Stealth mode on. I landed on soft feet while the sailors fired their weapons where I’d just been. Daggers in both hands, I spun low, slicing stomachs. Then I jumped before they registered an attack. Blood dripped from my daggers as I spun in a flip. My wings caught me. I flicked the stealth mode off so I flashed visible, then on again as I kicked off against walls toward another round of sailors. Slice. Slice. Slice.

  Three more NPCs dead.

  Catherine threw a glass of something liquid at me. If she ruined my hair, we would have words when I woke up from this game. She lifted a metal-clad hand, palm up, and struck me with some sort of magical fire. It hit my shoulder, burning my dress, melting the Wingship bronze into my skin. I could smell my hair burning, hear the flames roaring.

  But it didn’t hurt.

  It should have. I remembered falls back in training that stole my breath, cut palms from when I learned how to catch my daggers. But no sting of pain had struck me since I drank my seer water and gained my game vision.

  It made for an excellent acting exercise.

  Stealth on.

  There wasn’t time for fake wincing. I flew forward, but that water she’d thrown on me must have shown even through stealth mode, because her Devani firebolt followed wherever I flew. A large man with a face tattoo swung a sword at me and struck my Wingship.

  I shot a dagger into his neck. “Do you have any idea how long I spent designing that?”

  I disappeared and took out three more sailors. Twist, stab—five, six, seven, eight. Repeat. Until it was just me, the player, and the small girl.

  “You won’t harm her,” Catherine said, standing in front of the girl.

  Smoke rose from my scalded shoulders like fog from a fog machine. My legs barely kept me standing. I flicked my wrist. Palmed the blade. Aimed between the player’s eyes. “I won’t need to,” I said.

  The dagger launcher fired.
The look of pain that crossed Catherine’s eyes before the dagger dimmed them once and for all was a work of genius. Seriously. I was so glad to be working with professionals.

  Her head shot backward. She fell in a crumpled hunch.

  She was a true talent, not over-the-top at all. Subtle almost. She’ll be good for television.

  After Catherine fell, the young NPC queen’s eyes lit white. She raged at me, her fist slamming into my chest, but I couldn’t feel it. I held her by her throat, and then lifted her until her feet dangled.

  “Save your rage for the sequel, little queen.”

  I tossed her to the ground. Her head slammed against a pole and she was still.

  I gathered myself for three breaths and then turned stealth mode on so I could have a freak-out moment in the privacy of invisibility. I could not believe I’d just beaten Catherine. She’d won the national competition three years back, and while the new crop of players had overtaken her when she went to college, she was still serious competition.

  I clicked a button and a warning whistle sounded above me. Two of my soldiers dropped from the clouds where they’d been circling. I pulled Catherine out of the room and onto the dock.

  Wordlessly, the soldiers planted a stake into the boards at the front of the boat. It didn’t count as a victory until the players’ bodies were staked. And I was the one who had to do it.

  They helped me lift Catherine’s body and slide the stake through her.

  Her inventory fell out of her pockets into a perfect circle with her staked body at the center. The servant pulled out the plaque I’d made and hung it around her shoulders. I didn’t give it a second look.

  Instead, I picked up a silver bracelet that linked to a ring, with a small jewel chained to hang in the center of the palm. This was what she must have used to make the fire. Devani magic wouldn’t work for me, but it was pretty, so I pocketed it anyway. I bent to retrieve her unused healing potions and drank. Just because her magic didn’t hurt me didn’t mean it didn’t damage my health. I was at 5 percent before the hibisi tea restored me.

  She’d almost gotten me.

  While I was looking at my stats, the skill set crafting highlighted. What? Why would there be unlocked crafting abilities?

  The Devani bracelet. I couldn’t use the fire magic hidden inside it, but I could use each magic-infused link of chain to amp up my crafting and create a mechanical fire launcher. Not as powerful as Devani magic, but the possibilities it unlocked were phenomenal.

  But each chain could make only one mechanical.

  I glanced at the unconscious queen. I bet I could convince her to make some more, provided she was sufficiently motivated.

  I bent next to her body and tested her heartbeat. Good, she was still alive. Then I sat in the middle of a ship full of bodies as I crafted enhancements into my costume wings.

  One player down.

  And I’d need every power-up I could find to take out the rest.

  13

  DAGNEY

  What did it mean that my loyalty was purple? Nothing.

  Except that I wanted Ryo to win. Well, sure. Ms. Takagi asked me to help him, and we needed to get out of this rotten game, so who cared who won it? I didn’t even know my win condition, and if Grigfen could win as a member of a team, then helping Team Ryo to victory seemed like my best shot.

  That was all it was.

  That was the only reason.

  The drumming grew closer.

  Exit catacombs. The arrow spun, pointing out the door. Grig had grabbed everything of value in the office, so we should amscray.

  We raced through the catacombs, turning ourselves in twisting circles. The bones glistened beautifully, stacked carefully to show the way out. I’d caught the pattern, but still trusted my arrow for directions more.

  Grig slowed to a stop. “Last turn until the exit,” he whispered.

  “Let’s go,” Ryo said, moving forward.

  I grabbed his arm. The soundtrack had just changed to battle music. “We’ve got a boss to fight first.”

  I peeked around the corner. Three priests blocked the exit, swaying softly, their hands alit with ghostlight.

  I gestured three fingers and Grig nodded.

  “Can you turn their loyalties?” I asked.

  “No time,” Grig said, his eyes sparkling. “Besides, I’ve got a few new spells I want to test out.”

  “I’ll tank,” I said, unsheathing Ryo’s sword before he could protest. “Ryo, protect Grigfen as he does magic.”

  Grig gave a brief nod, and we moved forward. Ryo trailed one second behind.

  The bone walls of the catacombs around us shook, and then a monster of bones formed, blocking our way. I checked, but it wasn’t Grigfen’s doing.

  Now we had to fight three priests and a bone monster? I was so done with this level.

  I lifted my sword and sliced at the bones. Shoved the thing backward.

  Grig lifted his hands and chanted a single word over and over, “Vixhe, vixhe, vixhe.”

  I ducked as his magic shot from his hands. The bone monster imploded, sucking tight into itself, and then, as Grig closed his fingers into a cupping shape and then spread his hands out, the glistening bones exploded. Grig pulled his hands in front of him and gestured vertically, whispering a word I couldn’t catch over the boom.

  A shield blocked the shattered bones from hitting us. But they destroyed those swaying priests, just completely eviscerated them.

  Grig swayed on his feet, his color pale, but still he grinned. His knees buckled, and Ryo caught him.

  I put a hibisi in his mouth, and he chewed the blossom like a cow.

  “When did you learn that?” I asked.

  “I may have found Edvarg’s book of spells in his desk.” His head dropped to the side. “Can I bother anyone for a horse, or a cart, or maybe you could wrap me in a blanket and carry me like a wee baby?”

  “I’ve got you,” Ryo said, wrapping his arm under Grig’s shoulder. He lifted him easily. “I left my horse at the stables. Do you think they’re still there?”

  Oh, he was asking me. I ripped my gaze away from his rippling arm muscles. “Probably.”

  I turned away quickly and almost ran into a dead priest.

  “Watch where you are going, dude,” I said, not embarrassed at all. Stables. Stables.

  Find stables. Thank you, Pathfinding arrow, for working when my brain just wasn’t. I didn’t even think to loot the dead priests.

  We made our way to the horses, and then out of the city to a hill overlooking the castle. Grigfen drooped forward on his horse, but he was sitting steady enough that I didn’t worry about the galloping. We made it out. The twin moons lit the city with my hope. The sky had brightened, morning on its way. Whirligigs scanned the streets for us. The docks were full of ships ready to flee the kingdom before the Savak came to claim what we’d given them. And the empty castle glowed like a candle left in a window.

  Ryo’s throat bobbed.

  “We’ll come back,” I said. “This isn’t a forever goodbye.”

  Ryo met my eyes. A lie was not a lie if it was kind.

  Truth was, there was no guarantee we’d make it back here. But we would get Ryo home.

  Nao Takagi asked me to.

  I searched the tree-covered hilltop. We had the gloves, so we should get the Traveling Boots next. From my understanding, they were like Seven League Boots and would help us collect the items faster.

  The words Retrieve the Traveling Boots scrolled across my game vision in glowing yellow light.

  The arrow at the top of my vision shifted and pointed east, away from the city.

  “This way,” I said.

  Their horses followed my lead. I didn’t look back, but Ryo did. He kept checking for the spires of the castle until we were too far away and the mountains had swallowed the city.

  A fox darted across our path. The moons-light kissed wildflowers, and branches swayed in a gentle, dawn-breaking breeze. We traveled until w
e found a clearing with a rock circle, the perfect place to make camp. We needed to rest and heal up a bit if we wanted to make it to the boots. I was starving, and tired, and my butt hurt from sitting on the horse, and it was a game, so I shouldn’t be feeling any of that.

  WHO THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO GIVE US PAIN RECEPTORS?

  “I’ll hunt,” Grig said as he dismounted. He still seemed tired, but not like he couldn’t carry his own weight anymore. “I can hear some vultures chewing on some bones not ten paces from here.”

  “Creepy.” I dropped my bag and threw him a spare hunting knife. He caught it.

  “We’ll need to gather some supplies tomorrow,” I said. The arrow spun west.

  Side quest—find peddler wagon ran past my vision.

  “I’ll start a fire,” Ryo said.

  I knelt next to my bag. I needed to take inventory if we were going to trade in the morning.

  I pulled out the blanket that had been on that wire frame bed in my father’s tunnel. We had fifteen gold coins, a jar of peaches, the signed contract, strikers, my old boots, seven knives, and a pouch of hibisi blossoms. I needed to be on the hunt for more treasure chests. Maybe we could look in the morning, after we’d rested enough to sleep off our aches.

  Or afternoon. Dawn had painted the sky a warm yellow. A line of white ran straight up the sunrise, like a crack on a phone screen.

  One error in a perfect world. I didn’t know when it appeared, but it was there now. Proof that this world wasn’t real. The source code was beginning to corrupt. A chill ran up my neck. I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and turned my back to the cracked sky.

  Ryo searched the underbrush, a handful of small branches in one hand.