Glitch Kingdom

by Sheena Boekweg

  They were ringing now. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said. “You haven’t drunk seer water yet, so you don’t have game vision.” He wiped his eyes and sat up.

  I looked at the metal harness fused around his chest. I slipped my fingers between the metal and his chest and bent, but even my elevated strength wouldn’t budge the metal.

  “Don’t bother with the wings. Their likely to snap shut if we do too much fiddling.”

  “Then what do I do?”

  His eyes softened and glistened with tears. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  I snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.” Something clashed, like metal against metal. I turned, but that wild girl just hunted the empty air. “I should be at my barracks. I don’t know what’s going on.”

  The girl roared out a growl and lunged for the Savak queen. Her black hair was chaos and her green eyes were made of fire. She swung her axe above her head.

  “What is my mission?” I asked. “If I can’t help with the wings, there has to be something I can do.” There was something else. Something important. But I couldn’t remember.

  “We’re your allies,” he said. “And it’s our job to fight the Savak queen. Do you understand?”

  That wasn’t it. I knew there was something else. But I nodded and held up my sword. I was a weapon, and all they had to do was aim me. I didn’t need to think. “Hulk smash?” I asked. I blinked. That wasn’t right. What was a Hulk?

  He smiled as if my words made sense. “You … You are a pre-seer water player with a fresh download of memories from another life, dropped into a final battle with no recollection of why, or who you are, and you can still deliver a perfectly timed reference to a Marvel movie?”

  I didn’t understand anything he said but I shrugged.

  “Your nerdiness truly knows no bounds. I love you so … um…” He flushed red. “Sorry.”

  I leaned back. “Wait, what did you just say?” It wasn’t even the first bit, it was that last sentence. I looked at him again, really soaking in the curves of his cheekbones, the color of his eyes.

  I knew him. Somehow I knew him. Why wasn’t my brain working right?

  He stood and raised his hands. He let out a breath. “We’ll talk about that later. Now let’s keep that queen so busy she can’t push the button on her wrist.”

  I stood at his side like we’d fought as allies before.

  Then I ran forward toward the only thing that made sense.

  33

  DAGNEY

  That annoying queen would not stop disappearing.

  Hunt the queen. The arrow in my mind followed her, even when she flashed invisible. It was a limited-use skill, so it only worked for a short time. I counted the space between disappearances.

  Nine. Ten.

  Ten seconds of invisibility.

  I wiped Andrew’s blood off my hands and onto a Historian’s cloak. Then I gripped the handle and slammed the Axe of Destruction into a swirling Historian. The thing broke off its spinning axis and was finally still.

  McKenna grunted. It was the only thing I knew she cared enough about to try to threaten her with.

  Ryo joined my side. “The Devani are fighting off the Savak Wingships, and the Devout are helping them. It’s just us and the queen.”

  “Good work.”

  Bluebird returned. With her armor, her strength and endurance were incredibly high. She’d be the perfect tank. And best of all, she’d brought Grig back to his feet.

  “You sure?” I asked when he joined us.

  “If I’m going to die,” he said, “I’m going to die playing.”

  McKenna reappeared. She crept to the center of the room, her fingers brushing the button on her wrist, which she didn’t push.

  My heart thundered in my chest. “We don’t want to hurt you,” I shouted. “But we will. Take off the bracelet and we’ll leave.”

  “Why would I do that,” she said, “when I’m seconds away from victory?”

  “She doesn’t feel pain?” I asked.

  “Nope,” Grigfen said.

  She lifted her wrist so her hand framed her face.

  Activate boots.

  Her other hand reached for the button.

  1 percent

  Before my boots hit the ballroom floor, I swung my axe and cut off her left hand.

  Her eyes met mine. A wave of invisibility crested over her head.

  The bracelet fell with her polished fingers. The severed hand crackled as the ooze burned the blood. The metal bracelet caught in the destruction, sparking once. Twice. The jewel cracked right down the center.

  The sparkling black spread from the bracelet to the jewel at the center of the harness at Grig’s chest. The metal bar cracked open. He threw it off him just before the destructive ooze hit the gears and the blades snapped closed.

  “Oh Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Grig said as he pressed his hands to his chest.

  I grinned.

  Then a blade, shaped like a feather and coated in a dark orange smoke, slid into the space at my side where the armor didn’t cover. The knife stabbed between my ribs.

  I didn’t even have time to be mad.

  Ryo

  Blood trailed from McKenna’s severed arm as she held her handless wrist to her chest and fired a blade at Dagney. Bluebird lunged for her, her sword lifting as she pushed their fight to the blurs at my peripheral.

  But all I saw was the moment Dagney fell.

  I rushed toward the center of a ruined ballroom.

  She gasped, her face crumpling. Her sharp green eyes found mine, and time stopped.

  Dagney pressed her hand against the blade stabbed into her heart. She’d be okay. She would heal from this. She had to. I’d seen hibisi heal plenty of injuries. And if not, my mother would make this right.

  But my mother hadn’t healed Isabel, or Marcus, or any of the others. She couldn’t break the game to save Dagney. She didn’t know how special she was, how much she meant.

  How could she, when I was just figuring it out?

  The world sped back up. I ran to her side. My throat burned.

  Dagney covered her side, her hands stained with her blood. She growled half a swear word, half a moan of pain.

  A Savak Wingship broke through the Devani line, blocking my way. Activate gloves. I reached forward and pulled the Savak aside, my gloves shoving him over like an open door.

  Another came for me. We’d lost control of the battle. I shoved past the guard. He slammed his fist into the side of my face, the impact tearing the skin on my eyebrows.

  I wouldn’t reach her in time.

  “GRIG!” I commanded. “Dags has the hibisi!”

  Grig threw his hands back and flew forward with a wave of ghostlight.

  No matter how I brawled against the Savak, I barely slowed them. “Help me,” I commanded to the Devout and the Devani beside me. My Charisma strengthened their resolve, and they held back the Savak, their magic levels doubled. They were a wall now, a wall of death no Savak could break through.

  I ran forward without looking back. “Please,” I whispered. “Dagney, fight this.”

  Grigfen had reached her. He poured her hibisi in her mouth.

  Please heal.

  Between stinging punches, Dagney stole jagged breaths, her eyes blinking, her jaw arched as she held her insides in. Light cascaded from the moons above, touched her cheek, and brightened her hair. She was so beautiful.

  And then she was so still.

  Dagney

  My lips were wet with my own blood, and my lungs sloshed with each rapid breath. It hurt too much to cry.

  But I still did.

  Eventually the pain receded. Eventually my vision faded to black. And for a second, I wasn’t in the game; I was trapped inside my body. My spine arched and there was a beep, and stabbing pain through my eyes and into my nerve endings.

  Wake up. Wake up.

  “Come on, Dagney,” someone said. It sounded like Ms. Takagi. “Fight it.”r />
  I tasted something citric and warm. Light flashed bright white behind my closed eyelids. Heat spread from my mouth to my toes as fire twisted through my veins and nerve endings.

  “You can do this, love. Breathe. Please. Breathe for me.”

  I reached out. “Ryo?”

  “No, Dags. It’s me, Grig.”

  I tried to sit up, but couldn’t.

  “Whoa. Slow your horses. You’re still stabbed here.” He placed something cold against my lips. “Drink more. The hibisi is not working. I’m gonna pull the dagger out. It’s going to hurt.”

  I opened my eyes to see my brother kneeling over me, his hands shaking as he poured hibisi into my mouth. I touched his hand. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.

  The words wouldn’t come out of my ragged throat.

  He held the blade where it stuck between the ribs on my left side. He pulled it out—no ripped it out, the blade slicing my insides. It was so intense I couldn’t tell the moment it was out, there was no relief, just a raw open place that stung in the icy air and swelled with hot blood. He pressed the wound closed, the pressure agony against my ribs, and then he poured the hibisi into my mouth. The sweet tea still tasted like kale, but as I swallowed the pain seeped back, dimming like a light switch. Praise Kale. Kale for everyone.

  Ryo crashed to my side. When I looked at him I saw terror—naked and unmasked. A split marred his lip, his battered eyes bruised and hurt. “Dagney,” he spluttered.

  I reached for him. “What did you do to yourself? Check your healing.”

  Blood filled my throat and I could not breathe, but he crushed me to him, his sweaty cheek salty against my lips. His laughter seemed bitter and grateful at the same time.

  A stinging sharp sickness spread through my body. I dropped my head back.

  The painted skull on Grig’s face smeared with his excess sweat. “The hibisi isn’t holding, mate. There was poison on the knife, so it keeps wounding her. She needs more than this.”

  He held the hibisi to my mouth again and the pain slowed for a moment, but it came back as sharp as a barbed wire. The relief sharpened the return. It’d be better if they let me get lost in it. If the pain swallowed me completely I could forget how sweet it was to be without it.

  The world darkened, but the pain would not dim.

  “I’m not going to let her die. What do we have that’s stronger than hibisi?” Ryo muttered. “The last item. The Breastplate of Healing. Of course. I’ll go get it.”

  The arrow in my game vision spun but wouldn’t settle.

  Grigfen darted a glance toward the collapsing sky. “I’ll stay with her.”

  “Keep her breathing.” Ryo knelt by my feet. “Dags, can I borrow your boots?”

  I shook my head. “Trade.” It won’t work if we didn’t follow the rules of this world.

  His eyes lit and he reached into a pocket and pulled out something small and dark. A coin?

  It was my mother’s ring.

  I held it and tears blurred my vision. I never used to cry. I hadn’t cried when I saw Sir Tomlinson’s body, or as we stood vigil for the fallen players. I didn’t cry when my mom asked if it was my fault that I got pushed down a flight of stairs, or when I ate lunch alone and the table full of my former friends started to moo. I didn’t cry when their names hurt me. When I was lonely.

  I never allowed myself to feel safe enough to cry.

  But I cried now, holding this ring, knowing my mom was missing me. I couldn’t die. I couldn’t let this be my end. I had to keep fighting, because I wanted to go home.

  The boots fell off my feet, like I’d released them.

  Ryo put on my boots and then crawled to my side. He traced my cheek with his metal fingers, bent closer, and kissed me. Brief as a goodbye. “I expect confetti when I return. Perhaps a parade.”

  He would never let me forget I let him save me. “You’re the worst. Drink some hibisi.”

  As he stood, his cheek creased in a grin that felt like a dare. “Make me.” Then he raised his gaze and jumped.

  And the boots transported him away.

  34

  RYO

  The boots clicked on.

  Run tutorial?

  Nah, I got this.

  I didn’t need a tutorial or Dagney’s directions to know where the Breastplate of Healing was hidden. I had a story.

  I glanced up. Hope the moon was only one step away.

  100 percent. I leapt straight up.

  My father had told me the story of the sultan of the three moons.

  Once there was a little boy, loved beyond measure, but born without a soul. He’d been formed with clay and wax, tears and prayers. His mother molded his cheek with porcelain, his father made his legs with a soft pine. They pulled all the ghostlight they could to make his gears turn, but the ghostlight always used up and he would turn back to a lifeless thing.

  If he were a real boy, he wouldn’t have needed ghostlight. His own soul would turn those gears. But he needed a little extra help.

  So his parents used their magic to form armor to keep that soul in. His father was a healing witch, and the spell he used to form that Devani breastplate cost his life. The boy and his mother mourned the loss, but eventually lived happily together as mother and son, until old age hunched her shoulders and sent her into the Undergod’s embrace. The mechanical boy lived on.

  He collected gold. He collected titles. He even tried to collect the moons. But his gold and his titles and his moons collected dust. And all those who served him fell away to old age while his gears kept spinning.

  After he lived a thousand years, he took a trip to the favorite of his three moons. He watched the sunset behind the world that loved him, and then he removed the breastplate. His pine legs petrified, his porcelain face cracked, and the ghostlight that had spun his gears for so long it had turned to a soul seeped from his wax heart. His ghostlight soul found his mother’s and father’s ghostlight. They mixed together until it was one. One heart. One soul.

  Loved beyond measure forever after.

  I missed my father’s stories.

  The Breastplate of Healing was hidden on one of the moons. And the only way to get there was to use the Traveling Boots.

  Or invent NASA. Whichever one was quicker.

  I glanced down through the rippled upward step. I was high enough to see my castle, see the ruins of my city. I saw the long line of glitched sky, wrapped around the curve of the world. I had to hurry.

  I looked up at the quickly approaching moon. Growing larger. Closer.

  The rush of traveling tickled against my skin and sent a surge of adrenaline. I fought against gravity as the air became colder. Thinner.

  Still. I had to admit my mom’s game wasn’t boring.

  I more crashed than landed on the surface of the moon.

  I stood. The desolate silence wrapped my neck, the ground crunched like hard gravel, but the view … the view was incredible.

  The world was a moon too large for the sky. White clouds spiraled around the globe and torchlight sparkled like stars from the cities. I could see every playable country from here, cut through with rivers and oceans. Beyond the lands I knew were small peninsulas and continents I’d never heard of.

  I only knew my own side of the world. If I’d seen the planet laid out like this I’d have notice that the continents spelled out my name.

  My mother had formed the world as an Easter egg for me.

  I didn’t know I was her whole world. I’d never been a whole world before.

  My eyes prickled with tears.

  Then I turned away. No time to explore or get sentimental. Dagney was dying. I scanned the moon’s surface, but it was simply too basic for my mother to have hidden the breastplate here.

  The Little Mother was barren.

  I needed to reach the other moon, the one called Father.

  I took a running start, each step throwing me across the moon’s surface, and I wasn’t even using the boots’ magic. Gravity worked d
ifferently here; each jump threw me faster. How was I supposed to estimate the distance between the moons, and … how would gravity affect that? I couldn’t just go 100 percent, because they weren’t that far from each other.

  I knew enough about math to know I was way out of my depth here.

  My mother would make it possible. She’d make it difficult, but it had to be possible.

  I just had to take a wild guess. I threw my hands backward and exploded into a running leap. 40 percent?

  The moon loomed larger, larger; oh crap, I aimed too far. I reached the larger moon with an impact that jammed my joints as it shoved me through the surface and deeper, down below the surface, lodged between the moon rocks. The tight and heavy rocks formed a Ryo shaped hole deep into the surface.

  But at least I’d stopped.

  I climbed upward, ignoring the aches in my ribs and the way the impact into the moon’s side had made my joints crack and left a splatter of blood on the moon’s surface.

  I searched the moonscape until I saw the ruins of a boy made of rusted gears, pine legs, and a porcelain smile. I stepped to it and bent down, undressing the ruins of my favorite story. The solid gold breastplate was covered with copper moons. I exhaled and looked up.

  A third moon hid in the distance. Just for me.

  With my name a world, and a secret moon hiding beyond, I knew my mother was watching me. No matter what we’d been through, or the times she wasn’t there when I needed her, I knew she waited on a different world, cheering me on, hoping and praying and waiting impatiently for the moment we’d be back together.

  I knew it like I knew my father was doing the exact same thing.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said to the empty surface of the moon. “I’ll be home soon.”

  Now, how to get back?

  100 percent again? Dagney would have had a map of the stars and been able to estimate perfectly by their position. I had to get back to her so she would do the math for me.

  I timed my step and leapt. The light from reentry curved in an arch of sparks and lens flares. I hurdled through the dark and into the atmosphere.