Her breaths were soft against my chest.
“Wake for me, love. Come on.”
Bluebird
I watched my friends disappear one by one.
A victory song played until the castle’s ceiling above us faded and the twin moons glowed. A pulse wave of light exploded from the Seer Spring across the ocean and lit the night sky until it was as bright as midday. The light brightened until it seared my vision.
The walls flattened and the ground rushed up. The castle deleted into a plain white sphere with an ornate throne at the center. The sphere of white spread, sucking up King Edvarg’s body, spreading out past the Savak and strangers, and everywhere the light touched more NPCs disappeared.
Until it was only me.
The victory song played the notes faster and faster, the melody sharpened and distorted. The world slipped away no matter how hard I held on to it. I glanced down at my armor, my Voyager, and wished I could bring it with me as I left. For a moment I took in the design, the gears, and the hardware, and my thoughts began to whirl. Could this design be replicated in a real world setting? Hmm …
A Whirligig flew around me once, and then it too disappeared, into a spark of pixels.
The music played on in my mind. I clenched my eyes closed and lived there alone in the retreating world we’d created. I didn’t stay forever.
Just until the last note played.
Every inch of me hurt when I woke. Tubes cut through my skin, and my thin arms hung at my side. I couldn’t lift them. When the song finished, I opened my eyes and faced my real life. My vision blurred as I counted my fingers and tried to bend my knees, and I was grateful, so embarrassingly grateful, for this battered body I called home.
Grig released soft even breaths, his air swirling sweetly against my cheek. His body curved perfectly around mine.
I loved him. That much I knew, like I knew Frostborn one and three were my favorite games, but two was never to be spoken of, like I knew my mom would kill me for what I’d done to break into the game, and for having a boy in my bed.
The fact that I loved him was a measurable evidence-based fact. Surprisingly, another evidence-based fact was that he loved me too.
Loving was a form of fighting back.
And I was nothing if not a warrior.
“Hi,” I said.
He grinned. “Nice to meet you, love.”
40
DAGNEY
THREE MONTHS LATER
The rules of the game were simple.
There was a ball, and two teams in tight pants who wore thick pads over their shoulders. And also nachos.
So if I tried, really tried, I could separate the idea of football from what I used to believe it was to whatever this thing was that Ryo loved so much. Truth was, I never went to a game at my old school, and would not even if you paid me. So how was I to know if it was actually as bad as I imagined? Since I’d been back, I’d been surprised by the number of people who didn’t hate me.
And surprised by how little I cared about those who still did.
Still, as I sat on the cold metal bench on the front row, I couldn’t help but notice the way the boys got to play while the girls got to wear skimpy outfits and cheer for them.
I growled under my breath.
I held my phone in one hand and waited for the band to start playing Ryo’s school song. It was the last game of the season, and the first one Ryo had been cleared to play.
Luckily it was the night before our internship started, so we’d all flown in early so we could watch him play.
They offered each of the surviving players the internship prize, and all of us, except McKenna, had accepted it. They also gave each one of us the full prize money. A drop in the bucket compared to the money they gave to the families of the players who died.
And it wasn’t enough. Not to replace the eight missing lives.
After Mr. Carrington was fired and the lawsuit settled, Ms. Takagi had closed Stonebright and opened a new studio. It wasn’t as big, but I was excited to work with her there.
And to be able to see Ryo again. Our daily phone calls didn’t have nearly enough kissing in them.
My phone buzzed with a text.
It was from Ryo.
You coming?
I spun my ring around my little finger and then texted him back.
Already here.
After a few minutes, I switched to McKenna’s number and texted her.
It’s not too late. You can still come to the game.
It took a second, those three dots appearing, and then disappearing. Then her reply.
Can’t. PSATs.
Is that what they are calling Netflix these days?
I snorted when her reply beeped almost immediately.
Shut up. It’s part of my healing process. My therapist says self care is super important.
I typed,
Well, for my self care, I’m going to go change into a hoodie.
DON’T YOU DARE! I picked those clothes special. You looked gorgeous in your selfie.
I snorted.
I’m changing! Ooh what do you think about snuggies?
I WILL KILL YOU.
Three dots appeared. Then disappeared.
Sorry.
She didn’t reply for a good minute.
You’re still wearing the clothes I picked out?
I was about to type Come to the game and see, but I’d already pushed her too much today.
Her clothes were here. That was enough.
For today.
I made a face and sent her another selfie.
In the background, dark clouds rumbled. Maybe there’d be a rain delay, and the game would be canceled, and we could all go out to dinner or go see a movie.
No such luck.
Zoe and Griffin arrived at the stadium right before kickoff. The clouds were thick, but no rain fell as they sat next to me in the front row in the handicap accessible area. Zoe rolled right next to me. “Dags!”
She wore her usual leather boots, jeans, and a tee shirt that said SINGLE PLAYER AND SINGLE PAYER in bright pink print. Her hair was dyed a fresh purple since last time I saw her, cut short at the sides, her natural hair tight compared to the polished curls she wore in the game. Her smudged blue-framed glasses slid down her nose. Griffin wore all orange and green, Ryo’s school colors. Even his face was painted, though he didn’t go here.
I was officially overdressed in my cardigan and flowered skirt. “I hate you both.”
“You look nice,” Zoe said.
Griffin dropped their bags. “Did you hear? It’s official. I’m starting a band. I just got to get a load of trumpeters interested.” He handed me one of his goodie bags full of snacks. A pom-pom fell out.
I grinned. “I like your school spirit.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I am nine-tenths ghost. Might as well play the part.”
“Why are your jokes so bad?”
“Years of practice.” Griffin tapped Zoe’s knee and rustled inside his bag. “Bean dip?” He pulled out a glass Pyrex dish and a bag of tortilla chips. “You’ll never guess what the secret is to making a perfect bean dip, so I’ll tell you.”
“It’s not really a secret if you tell everyone,” I said.
“Right, but you’re not everyone, now, are you?”
The band blasted my eardrums and the crowd erupted in cheers. The players streamed out, and everything grew even louder. Last game of the season. Everybody was here, their focus on Ryo.
And I wanted to cover my head and disappear.
Zoe smiled encouragingly at me. “You are making a bigger deal than it is. I promise.”
“What’s going on now?” Griffin said, looking around.
“Don’t worry about it, Grig,” Zoe said. “This is a girl thing.”
I bit my lip and sucked in. Zoe’s words helped a little, and I knew better. My worth was not based in my appearance, and Ryo didn’t want a trophy, he wanted me.
But he had to not
ice the way the cheerleaders looked at him, or the way the girls along the fence were all adoring fans in such tiny packages.
But even with a thousand people cheering his name, Ryo looked for me.
When our eyes met, his shoulders dropped and he grinned like he was relieved. He wouldn’t ever admit it, but he needed me here to support him.
Dark clouds rumbled above us.
Ryo crossed the field to greet us, his arms wide like he was hugging the whole world. “Sun’s greeting, fair travelers!”
He and Griffin bumped shoulders first, but then he held me close. I leaned against the cement barrier as he kissed me hard, right there where everyone could see. In that second, everybody else disappeared, until it was just him and me and a kiss that I wished went on longer.
Brownie Blizzard sundae.
Ryo rested his forehead against mine. “I’m so glad you made it.”
My whole insides warmed. He didn’t look at me any differently than the way he looked at me in the game. “Of course. I love you, you know?” I expected my stomach to twist, but I didn’t feel nervous. It seemed like the most natural, honest thing I could say.
“Dagney,” he said, his expression the kind of happy that I knew couldn’t be faked.
“And that means I get all your stuff.” I pushed his shoulder. “Go get me a victory.”
His eyes twinkled. “Yes, my queen.” He tapped Zoe’s nose and then he ran back on the field, those tight pants of his increasing my appreciation for this game tenfold.
A whistle blew as he lined up with the rest of his team. He put his helmet at the top of his head, but for a quick instant before he lowered it, his focus shifted up to the top of the stands.
Where his mother cheered with both arms raised.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Dear friends,
I owe this book to the following:
Holly West, my brilliant editor, took a messy draft of this book and found a path to a story I love. I owe her Dagney’s Pathfinding. Holly brought with her a team of extraordinary people including Ilana Worrell, Raymond Ernesto Colón, Kerianne Steinberg, Katie Klimowicz, and so many others who had a hand in making Glitch Kingdom. A special thanks to the sensitivity readers. Thank you to the whole team at Feiwel and Friends and Macmillan—I’ve been in such good hands.
To my agent, the mighty Jessica Sinsheimer, I owe Ryo’s Charisma. Thank you for changing a group of uninterested people into a book deal, and for always knowing the answers to my questions. Go team!
I owe Bluebird to three incredible women. Isabel Ibañez gave me Bluebird’s Stamina, her drive, and her armor. Isabel, you are my general of light-and-also-making-me-write-things. Thank you for dragging this book out of me. My best friend April Clausen gave me Bluebird’s Heart. You take such good care of me, friend. Thank you for the milk shakes, the french fries, and the everything. Megan Grimit gave me Bluebird’s Intelligence. You’ve taught me so much, my friend, my mentor, and my twisted sister. I am not worthy.
To all the writing friends who saw ghosts of this book’s past, (and all the stories that came before it) I owe you Grigfen’s Magic. Thank you to Kendra Lusty and Gina Francesconi for being my first friends, my first readers, and my first supporters. Thank you to my Hale-ians, because you gave me my teenage years (especially you, Emily McDougal), and thank you to Barbara Fields for helping me survive them. Thanks to Andrew Beck for being my brother who is not my brother (I salute you). Thanks to Sabrina West and Melanie Crouse for sharing my brain and for being so kind when I asked for it back.
To Glitch Kingdom’s beta readers: Rachel Larsen, Cassandra Newbold, Stacey Goldstein, Heather Dean Brewer, Laura Valín-Peñalba, Jana Nelson, Isabel Ibañez, April Clausen, Sabrina West, and Kate Meadows, thank you for shaping this story with me. Thank you to Dr. Anne Lipton for explaining to me how brains work, (who knew?) and to Dustin Hansen and Dillon James West for your insight into video game history and into those who develop them.
A special thank-you to Brenda Drake and the Pitch Wars class of 15, my community of weirdos, for being there every step of this book’s life. Thank you to the Prosers (especially MaryAnn Pope!), Hatrackians, Storymakers, Pitch Crit Crew (PCC!), and my Twitter friends for everything you’ve taught me. To my Young Women, thank you for your love and for reminding me how teenagers actually talk. And of course to the thousands of writers whose work gave me the tools to make my own.
A special hand-to-the-heart thank-you to all the bloggers, librarians, booksellers, booktubers, and readers who put the right books into the right hands. Just like Grigfen’s seven-layer dip, I believe any good thing is always two layers deeper than gets credit. Thank you to everyone who does the invisible work.
To my family—My mom, for teaching me to read, for taking me to the library, and for letting me climb up in the branches of the giant tree in my backyard with a book. My dad, whose books I so often stole and sometimes dropped in bathwater. My sister Jana whose bookshelves I envy. My sister Tyana for teaching me how to swear. My brother Ben who let me be Luigi and who talked through this idea when it was a baby. My children, who I love to the moon and back, and whose names shape my world, and to my sweet love Darren, for every single day of forever. Thank you for giving me McKenna’s ability to turn invisible. I love you, you awesome nerds.
And now, dear readers, THANK YOU for reading! This book is yours. No matter your size, no matter your health, you are enough!
Thank you for reading this Feiwel & Friends book.
The Friends who made GLITCH KINGDOM possible are:
JEAN FEIWEL, Publisher
LIZ SZABLA, Associate Publisher
RICH DEAS, Senior Creative Director
HOLLY WEST, Senior Editor
ANNA ROBERTO, Senior Editor
KAT BRZOZOWSKI, Senior Editor
ALEXEI ESIKOFF, Senior Managing Editor
RAYMOND ERNESTO COLÓN, Director of Production
EMILY SETTLE, Associate Editor
ERIN SIU, Assistant Editor
RACHEL DIEBEL, Assistant Editor
FOYINSI ADEGBONMIRE, Editorial Assistant
KATIE KLIMOWICZ, Senior Designer
ILANA WORRELL, Production Editor
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OUR BOOKS ARE FRIENDS FOR LIFE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sheena Boekweg grew up reading books as tree branches peeked over her shoulder. She studied theatre at Weber State University, married a handsome nerd who taught her about video games, and then had three kids who stole her heart and her controllers. She lives in Utah with her family and the world’s most spoiled puppy. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
1. Ryo
2. Ryo
3. Dagney
4. Dagney
5. Dagney
6. McKenna, Queen of the Savak
7. Ryo
8. Dagney
9. Dagney
10. Grigfen
11. Ryo
12. McKenna
13. Dagney
14. Grigfen
15. Bluebird_Ofdeath
16. Ryo
17. Dagney
18. McKenna
19. Ryo
20. Grigfen
21. Dagney
22. Grigfen
23. Dagney
24. Bluebird_Ofdeath
25. McKenna
26. Ryo
27. Grigfen
28. Bluebird_Ofdeath
29. McKenna
30. Dagney
31. Ryo
32. Bluebird_Ofdeath
33. Dagney
34. Ryo
35. McKenna
36. Bluebird_Ofdeath
37. Dagney
38. Dagney
39. McKenna
40. Dagney
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2020 by Sheena Boekweg
Feiwel and Friends and Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC
120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271
fiercereads.com
All rights reserved.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
Our eBooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945 ext. 5442 or by email at [email protected].
First hardcover edition 2020
eBook edition February 2020
eISBN 9781250209801
Glitch Kingdom Page 28