Glitch Kingdom

by Sheena Boekweg

  Regular game play shuddered through that black. I’d fallen to my knees, my heart racing as I touched the place on my chest where the blades would strike.

  Deactivate crown.

  That wasn’t a future I wanted to see.

  At the left, a large group of Devout knelt on all fours, manacles slung around their ankles. I stepped toward them, and their gaze turned to me. I knew a few of them—Rogi, Boll, and Vaika. Their loyalties flickered green for an instant as we met eyes, before shifting back to red as their shoulders caved in defeat when I joined them.

  They sang a low hymn, forming ghostlight into a low hanging green mist, which siphoned into a trailing snakelike shape toward a pile of black lumps at the center of the ballroom floor.

  I raised my voice with theirs, ghostlight pulsing forward toward robes covered with raven feathers, lying like lumps on the polished floor.

  Historians. She was making Historians?

  McKenna knelt in the middle of the lumpy piles of robes and gears, a screwdriver held between lips painted the color of blood as she fiddled with a mechanical. She was dressed in breeches, a pale billowing tunic, and a sheer red coat, which tapered sharply at her waist and fell to her mid-thigh. And the bracelet from the crown’s vision that would trigger my death was tucked into the work belt slung over her hips, like just another tool.

  She motioned with her fingers and Andrew joined her side. He twisted a stream of the snakelike mist around his fingers then blew it into the gears.

  The mechanical engine coughed a green exhaust before the gears purred to life, making those raven feather–covered lumps rise. They stood at attention, and then they began to spin, an army of Historians, dancing to silence. Each one touched spindly hands and spun again, their robes spreading in the movement, revealing flashing blades at the ready. Their carved silver masks sparkled like empty starlight. The Historians were not supposed to dance. They were made to record history, not to be music box spinners, and certainly not to carry weapons.

  “What do you think?” McKenna asked, watching me.

  Um … luckily she didn’t wait for my answer, because at the moment I was still struggling to find words.

  “They’re not too much, are they? I was going to try and train my army to dance. Imagine a cast of thousands in an epic ballroom scene. But they were not as coordinated as I’d hoped for people who know how to fight. Five, six, seven, eight, slash, turn, stab. You’d think it was the same thing and that they could at least pick up a box step, but nope.”

  She pressed a button and the Historians took another turn about the ballroom, robes spinning, blades flashing.

  “Now, that’s charming. And a bit unnerving. It’s right in that uncanny valley between human and not human, and it just puts my teeth on edge in the most gorgeous way, don’t you think?”

  “It is impressive,” I said carefully.

  “It’s partially your doing. As soon as I earned your loyalty a whole bunch of crafting unlocked. With Andrew I have access to Devani magic, and now with you I have Devout magic, but the really cool thing is when I braid the two magics together. Not that I can use magic, but I can craft it a bit. Speaking of which, can you come here for a minute?”

  A chill ran up my neck.

  I turned back, but Andrew was gone. He’d crossed past the Historians to prisoners marked with Devani symbols who huddled at the edge of the sharp precipice. Their drawn symbols shone with specks of color hiding behind kohl, cobalt for ice, red for fire, silver and black and a thousand different shades all meaning something powerful, something I could not understand.

  “Me?”

  “Andrew already did his part, but I need you to seal this magic closed with a concentration of ghostlight. Once I earned your loyalty I could use the NPCs’ ghostlight, but only to a point. There are spells only players can do.”

  The Historians were too deadly already. I didn’t want to think about what they’d do to Dagney and Ryo if I helped her. What else could I do? Maybe I could grab the bracelet from her belt.

  An itch nestled between my shoulder blades. I startled back. The gears on my chest clicked and then spluttered.

  McKenna twisted a strand of her pale hair around one finger as she watched me through sharp eyes and touched the jeweled bracelet.

  My loyalty must have shifted colors. She studied me like she could smash me underfoot, and then she locked the bracelet around her wrist. “Do you need a demonstration?” she asked, her voice lowered. “Andrew, come here,” she said. “Your part in my finale is done. I’d love to show Grigfen how your wings work.”

  I swallowed hard. “No, you don’t need to. The Crown of Visions showed me enough.”

  She blinked. “Ah, good.” She seemed almost disappointed.

  As was her right. All hail, McKenna. Mighty and wise. May she win quickly with no obstacles.

  I lifted my hand and surged a ray of ghostlight into the Devani gear box. Sorry, Ryo. Sorry, Dags.

  McKenna clapped twice and then shut a flap and twisted a bolt to keep the metal shut.

  She must not know what she was doing. Maybe now that she had my loyalty, she would listen to me.

  I approached her like I would a rabid animal. “McKenna.”

  “Don’t try anything.”

  I softened my voice. “I have to tell you something.”

  She let out a sigh and then gestured with a palm before she focused on her work. “Go ahead.”

  “It’s not your fault, but something in the game has gone wrong. That’s why you feel pain. You have to know the rest of us feel pain too. And when we die in the game, we die in real life.”

  She lowered her wrench. “I don’t feel pain.”

  “What?”

  She plucked a blade from her bench then sliced her palm, a line of red pulsing. She sipped a glass jar, and the red pinked over, turning scar to solid perfect flesh. “So you can put your lies and tricks away.”

  She grinned and went back to her mechanicals.

  My throat tightened. Why couldn’t she feel pain? We all could; that was the problem. Why was she the only player not attached to the pain receptors? Did that mean she couldn’t die here?

  Then how could I convince her that the rest of us could?

  I had to try. “McKenna. You don’t—”

  She gestured with one hand. “You’re blocking my light.”

  I hunkered down until I was eye level. “How many players have you killed?”

  “I don’t know, read my stats. Like six or something.”

  My blood pulsed. She had to know. Even if she wouldn’t believe me. “They really died.”

  She let out a small laugh. “Whatever.”

  “I’m not lying. They really died. The pulses from the pain centers of their brain killed their bodies back at Stonebright.” How was I going to get her to understand? “Have you ever watched Sword Art Online?”

  She stood. “You think just because I’m a newbie I don’t know how video games work.”

  It’s pronounced noob … That doesn’t matter. “There was a glitch—”

  “You’re getting annoying. My lower ranking doesn’t mean I’ll fall for your tricks. I’ll concede that it’s an original way to go about it, trying to make me feel guilty about this role I’m playing, but I’m not an idiot. I know how video games work. I won’t fall for this tactic, or this distraction, and you know what, all this talking is boring so they won’t use these shots anyway, so go back over there with the Devout and get them to sing louder. I need more ghostlight storage.”

  But she had to understand. This wasn’t only my own life I was trying to save here. If I couldn’t convince her, then she’d take out the rest of us too.

  “I swear it. If it’s not true, I’ll never play video games again. I would pay you every pound I earn, I would dance naked in front of millions of people, just believe me. McKenna. Don’t kill anyone else. I will do everything in my power so you can win. I swear it, I will. Just don’t kill anyone else.”


  She raised a button on her bracelet in response. Not a blade, not a weapon. But she held it like it would destroy me, and I believed her though she would not believe me.

  “You’re alive because you are useful to me. Stay that way, or else I’ll send you back to Stonebright with the rest of the players I’ve already tagged out.”

  Tears burned my eyes. “Please. Don’t kill anyone else.” Her thumb lingered over the button and ghostlight started to fill the jewel over my chest. The jagged wings behind me clicked.

  I held up both hands and backed away slowly until I knelt with the captured Devout and joined in their singing.

  McKenna turned back to her machine. She didn’t look up to see my tears.

  She’d think I was acting if she did, that my tears were a trick, or a strategy to beat her, and I couldn’t blame her. If Bluebird hadn’t been the one to tell us that players had actually died from this, I couldn’t know if I’d have believed me either. And if I had accidentally killed people, I’d fight tooth and nail to make it not be true.

  McKenna strutted away from her gears and shouted out orders to her servants to clear the ballroom for incoming guests, her hips waving and shoulders spread wide. She relished this role she played.

  But she wasn’t the villain. She was the first victim, and she didn’t even know it yet.

  Ghostlight poured like mist around us. I pulled against the gold bars that strapped those sharp wings to my chest. The metal was forged closed, and no matter how I pulled against the seams, they would not bend. The gear placed between my shoulder blades clicked, and the wings attached to that spring had been filed into blades I could remember sliding through my ribs.

  Don’t come here, Dags. Don’t bring Ryo.

  At least Bluebird wasn’t here for this.

  This was a battle we could not win. How could we defeat a villain we could not kill?

  She could destroy us without a problem. Like she was smashing a goomba.

  Or pushing a button.

  28

  BLUEBIRD_OFDEATH

  “What does she mean she can’t feel pain?” Ms. Takagi said as she opened the door to the players’ bay.

  I lifted my head from the side of Grig’s bed, his cold hand limp in mine. After the source code failed around me, I’d moved down here. I couldn’t help him, but I could sit by his side. His cheek slumped against his shoulder. His palms were up, one finger twitching every few seconds.

  Mr. Carrington rose from his post next to his daughter’s side. “Now, before you get mad—”

  Oh no, my dude, you never start a sentence like that.

  “What did you do?” Ms. Takagi asked.

  “I didn’t want you sending shock waves into my daughter’s brain.”

  “You were the one who insisted she play.”

  “For the PR! But that doesn’t mean I’d allow you to hurt her.”

  I didn’t follow. “What does that mean?”

  He huffed and held his fists to his hips. “I tried to protect my daughter. Not that it worked. She’s still connected to the world, to some of the sensations, but I didn’t want her to feel pain. And can you blame me? You did the same thing when you gave Ryo extra lives. Rules are rules, but not when they apply to our children’s safety.”

  I could blame him. “You were the one who damaged the code?”

  Ms. Takagi shook her head. “He doesn’t have the skill for that. Who’d you use?”

  He adjusted his glasses. “Abrams.”

  Ms. Takagi paled. “I fired Abrams for incompetence. And you let him play with my source code?”

  “I had to. You never told the players you were sending shock waves into their brains. You inadequately warned them of the dangers involved.”

  “It wasn’t dangerous until you broke it. Seven children are dead.”

  “My daughter could be next, and whose fault is that?”

  “Yours! You messed up my code, and your daughter—”

  “She doesn’t know what she’s done. She’d never hurt anyone in real life. She doesn’t realize it’s more than a game now.”

  “Someone needs to tell her,” I said.

  Ms. Takagi let out a sharp breath. “Grigfen314 already has. She didn’t believe him. I hope Ryo can convince her, but…”

  Mr. Carrington pressed his hand against his forehead. “This was not what I intended. No one said anything about anyone being killed.”

  My arms shook. Doing nothing was torture. I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit here and watch Grig die. He was too dang adorable to die without me telling him so.

  And I was the only one who could get into the game. I was the only one who could reach McKenna.

  They had to let me try.

  I let go of Grig’s hand. “Let me go back in.”

  They faced me.

  “No,” Ms. Takagi said.

  “I can make her listen. I’ll give her a message from her dad like I did with that sultan of three moons thing for Ryo. You can think of something she will believe is from you and I’ll tell her to put her weapons down.”

  Ms. Takagi bit her thumb then shook her head. “The code is too corrupted. If you go back in there, we won’t be able to pull you out again.”

  “Then leave me in.”

  Mr. Carrington lowered his hands. “It could work, Nao.”

  “You don’t talk to me.” Then Ms. Takagi stilled, considering. “No. I won’t risk another life. I can’t. It would damage the code and accelerate the corruption.”

  I could do this. But if she was right, then it meant risking my life, everyone’s lives, to do it.

  I knew better. My life mattered and I always would fight to save my own life.

  But I was the one who people always helped. I was the one with the need. And now there was something I could do. Something only I could do.

  I wanted to save Grig. I wanted to be the one to save all of them.

  “I can do this. I can convince her to stop. They’ll get the armor and win the game and I’ll be freed with the rest of them.”

  Ms. Takagi clenched her eyes closed. “I promised your mother you’d be safe.”

  Oh, my mom would be so pissed if I did this. But I’d deal with that argument with Grig at my side. “Even if it means I could save your son?”

  Ms. Takagi’s jaw pulsed. She studied her son from a distance. “Even then.” She swallowed. “I can’t allow you into the game. That’s final. They are on their own.”

  I dropped my hands.

  “Excuse me.” She fled out of the players’ hall, her hand covering her mouth.

  Mr. Carrington sniffed and studied me.

  I couldn’t give up. Maybe he would help me break in. He’d already changed the whole game.

  “I’m sorry for your friend,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m sorry for what I put in motion.”

  I rolled my chair closer. “Then you need to help me fix it.”

  29

  MCKENNA

  Purple and pink columns skimmed over the ocean like a skipping rock. “Wow,” I said under my breath, “they sure travel quickly.”

  My nervous stomach churned with stage fright. Dagney Tomlinson and Ryo Takagi-Vinton. Ryo was a main character of the whole game, so surely his skills were maxed out, and Dagney’s ranking was in the top three. Plus they’d been working together, so they’d have the advantage of having a teammate.

  I’d use Grigfen’s death as a distraction and take them out.

  It was a solid plan. Otherwise they’d team up against me, and the one thing I would not accept was to die a pathetic death. No tripping over the edge, no being crushed by a statue. No. If I was going to die it would be with blood on my hands.

  There was so much to do before the next scene really started. I needed to get my costume on, my makeup, make sure everyone knew what to do.

  “Places,” I shouted. The Devani turned to their poses, some kneeling to create levels of interest, some holding magic between their fingers, some in poses inspired by
Bob Fosse. I rushed to Grigfen’s side. The three had spent time with one another, so he needed to be down center in the heart of the action.

  I pressed his shoulders parallel to the edge. “Chest out so you don’t show your back to the cameras, and when in doubt say nothing. I’ll help keep the scene moving forward, so don’t worry about that. Just try to act afraid, and don’t move. Your death will be quick and painless, and I promise it will be at the most dramatic time possible. Okay? You’re sure to get plenty of screen time.”

  I glanced at Andrew. He knelt on the ground, his blade wings arched. I really should kill him now. It was just so many elements to try to balance at once.

  And if they turned his loyalty to their side, which they probably would since he was a spineless traitor (in the game, in real life he was kind of charming) …

  I should probably kill him.

  But waiting, in a way, amped the drama. We had to keep the audience guessing. Besides, I liked him too much to give him a boring death. We’d spent a few hours together tasting Savak delicacies. I could eat anything here and not think of calories even once. It was glorious.

  I paused and took in the set. The Historians spinning at the center of the ballroom, Whirligig lights floating above the Devani and Devout, making a perfect tableau. Servants in the graceful livery I’d designed, the mosaic tile floors glistening in the moons-light. Only the tears in the sky marred the perfection of the scene. I scowled at it. If there was time, perhaps I could have made a screen to block the flaw in an otherwise perfect stage. But my armies would fly in from above when the time came, so it was best just to ignore it.

  The show must go on.

  Costume, weapons, and crafted tricks for up my sleeves. That’s what I needed to focus on.

  “No one move,” I said. “I need a quick change but I will be right back.”

  It was finally time to wear my favorite costume. My army at the beach would keep Dagney and Ryo busy for a while, but as quickly as they moved, I’d have to cut the makeup I had planned, which was an absolute shame.

  Stealth mode.