I screamed for a moment, and then smashed into the ground. No leaves softened this fall. My only saving grace was that the back end of the town was built into a hill, so my fall was half the distance of the climb. It may have saved my life, but it sure didn’t stop the pain that wracked my body.
The edge of the box bit into my ribs as I tumbled down the hill. Rocks dug into me. I felt fire down my side, and my screams sounded like groans. I wanted to cry, give in to the pain, but the hill refused to let me go. Over and over I tumbled, until light and shadow became one. My neck and cheek burned with dragon weed pollen, but I held on. I plunged into the cold river, still struggling for breath.
The icy water stung. I struggled against the current. Treading didn’t help; nothing seemed to help. My racing heart forced the air from my lungs. Once my body numbed, I gave in and let the current take me.
The river pulled me past the marketplace. From the outside, no one would have guessed that there was a festival of dancing and celebration inside the square. Auntie Quinn’s distaste for the rebels and their futile attempts at defiance filled my mind. Would Pipes and Deakon’s demonstrations really make a difference if no one knew about them? And did they even realize that their celebrations were concealed under the containment of the king’s market?
My heart broke for them. They were risking their lives for nothing. I closed my eyes. It hurt too much to cry.
I floated past open fields and a meadow, similar to the one I’d first walked through when I arrived that morning. Had it really only been one day? It seemed like a lifetime’s worth of pain.
My earlier resolve to win the game died out. How could I possibly win with all the dangers that I knew—which were formidable on their own—mixed with perils I couldn’t expect? The novelty of this place wore thin, sprouting seeds of loneliness. Instead of the theme song, one question ran on repeat through my mind: Where was the game over button?
Just as the sun set behind a range of jagged mountains, the river bent and deposited me along its gravel edge. A subdued palette of orange and blue painted the sky as I hung on to the sharp rocks at the bank. I watched, but the beauty escaped me.
It took every ounce I had in reserves to pull myself out of the river. Even numb, I knew I couldn’t float forever. I wanted to cry. I wanted to let the world of Dreamscape know it had hurt me, but I settled for weak protests. Anything more required too much effort.
I flipped over, shoving my bag under my head, and adjusted the wet tunic. The sky softened, and after a slow progression, the blues faded dark, and a blanket of stars covered me.
Stars. I had lamented losing them when we moved, and yet here, in this new world, they shone the same. Spread across the sky in constellations that looked oh-so-familiar, they offered me comfort. I grabbed onto it. It didn’t matter if they were the same stars or not; it was enough for me.
Out of the corner of my eyes, a burst of yellow broke my thoughts. Despite the pain in my ribs, I propped myself up onto my elbows. Fireworks. After a handful of deep explosions, the sky erupted into color. Streaks of red flames were followed by blue sparkles, and then yellow stars filled the sky.
I leaned back and laughed. Fireworks symbolized one thing—level one was over.
Chapter Nine
The last, lingering moments of sleep were my favorites.
When I was trapped in that ethereal place between wakefulness and sleep, my biggest dreams of adventure came true. For a few blissful moments, I thought that Dreamscape was nothing more than a dream. Befriending armed jugglers, narrowly escaping murderous thugs, and finding glittery money boxes made sense. Dreaming of a video game was normal.
Being stuck in it wasn’t.
I made a new wish in the last tendrils of sleep. Not for another adventure, but to be home, in my own bed. I could almost imagine being there, if I ignored the sharp rocks digging into my ribs, the quick breeze that froze my damp clothes, and the pain pulsing through my body.
Nope, I couldn’t even pretend that I was home.
I flipped onto my side and swore as the gravel found new spaces between my ribs to poke. Sleep didn’t offer me a reprieve from pain. The longer I rested, the more my body protested. Sharp spasms ran through me at the slightest of movements. Breathing hurt, pushing myself up onto my elbows burned, and when I sat up and hunched over, every muscle screamed at me.
I leaned forward and brushed a few small rocks off my cheek. Small puckers covered my face where the gravel had dimpled my skin. I hung my head in my hands. I wasn’t ready to deal with another day here.
Even with my eyes closed, the theme song nagged me. That infuriating tune bore its way into my head until even my inner thoughts sung on cue. I despised it. I pulled the cloak up over my head, but it was no use. The melody infiltrated everything, from the water lapping up on the shore to the birds’ song. It didn’t matter where I looked, I saw and heard the programming of the game.
It felt like a subliminal message, like my mom’s snide remarks; always giving me a gentle reminder about who was in charge. I discounted the messages at home, or at least I tried to, but could I afford to ignore them here? It seemed pretty clear this place had a plan, even if I didn’t know it.
Wait! I was the Golden Hero.
I picked up a larger chunk of gravel, tossed it into the river, and watched miniature waves appear, altering the rhythm and sound of the water rolling up onto the shore. I picked up a handful of pebbles and tossed them all in, forgetting about the pain, and smiled as the underlying rhythm faltered.
My eyes widened with a new idea. I could make my own choices here! If I tried hard enough, I could alter the underlying programming and maybe return home. Trying certainly couldn’t hurt anything.
But where would I go? Taking control meant actually knowing what I was doing. And I had no clue.
I plunked more rocks into the river, along the shoreline. As the water settled back to normal, the song recalibrated itself in the background. Maybe the key wasn’t in fighting the inevitable, but in working with it. Fumbling through the levels hadn’t gotten me anything but pain. Maybe if I crafted a plan, I might actually stand a chance.
I took the leather bag I had used as my pillow and dragged it across the ground in front of me, smoothing out the pebbles. With my blank canvas in front of me, I took out the jeweled dagger and dragged the blade through the rough ground. The rocks didn’t move as smoothly as I would have liked, but this wasn’t an art project. It was a strategy. Visual clarity helped me. I had to get all these little pieces of information out of my head to really see the big picture. What I knew from memory seemed small in comparison to the forest and marketplace I had already gone through.
I scribbled triangles around all four sides of the makeshift map to represent the woods. Dreamscape’s great forests were filled with giants, colossal trees, cacti, and sand traps. There was no telling what I would find in each section. Passing through the dark forest had proved difficult enough. And the shortcuts I relied on back at home…well, I didn’t even know if they existed here.
After the forests, I drew a jagged line across the middle. A mountain range I only knew as the ice world split Dreamscape in half. In the other direction, the river that swept me away from the marketplace divided the terrain.
I sat back and appraised the map. Dreamscape seemed so undeveloped in comparison to the maps I knew from school. Exotic and diverse, but simple in construction. In the most basic sense, it was forests transected by a mountain range and river, with a few towns, castles, and manors thrown in.
I placed the dagger tip on the edge of the western forest and drew a straight line east, mimicking my route with Deakon and Pipes. I stabbed the knife in deep and leaned behind me to grab a couple of larger rocks. I placed the biggest rock next to the blade. That was Lindle, the capital. And from what Pipes had said, I knew Berkos’ castle wasn’t much further north.
I wrapped my hands around my knees and stared. Could it be that simple? Even though there wasn’t much
to the world, I knew my path would be so much more difficult than just walking up to the castle. No one skipped straight to the end of the game, even with shortcuts. I was missing some key points, I knew, but none came to mind. I’d have to fill in the blanks as I went.
As I went…the thought lingered in my mind. How long could I stay on the shore? I tucked the box into my leather bag.
As if reading my mind, a bright red bird swooped low, dragging its feet in a line across the river’s surface as it approached. Then the rest of the flock arrived, lining the river’s edge like an out-of-bounds warning. It was time to go.
I grabbed the bag and threw it over my shoulder, flinching as the edge of the wooden box slammed into my back. Since sleep hadn’t healed me the way I expected, I needed something more, like a healing potion.
If only I knew how to get one. The game simplified everything—collect coins, get food, collect more coins, buy a potion, get healed. Survival was secondary to the adventure.
I doubted that a medicine hut or the red liquid of a healing potion would materialize out of thin air. The possibility of making one flashed through my mind, but I quickly dismissed it after glancing back at the dragon weeds on the shore. Red petals and berries spotted the forest bushes, but I wasn’t sure which to use. There were too many variables to consider. The red liquid I needed could be made from anything.
There was only one thing to do. Keep moving and keep my eyes open. I had no doubts that something would happen soon. Something always happened.
I hobbled over to the trees that lined the entrance to the forest and stumbled forward from tree to tree until I found one with a low-hanging branch. A rattling sensation grew in my chest as I sawed through the thick wood, fashioning a walking stick.
With the new support, I moved a bit more quickly and entered the forest, careful to keep my breaths shallow and even. I couldn’t be distracted today. Not when I had no idea where the river had deposited me. I could be anywhere, and worse, I had no clue what hid in these woods. I glanced around at the towering trees, waiting for the overwhelming dread from yesterday to return. It didn’t. These trees seemed arbitrary. Nothing stood out to pinpoint me at a location or specific level.
Light flickered down through the forest canopy, teasing me with warmth. I stretched out my arms, hoping it might dry the last bit of dampness from my clothes. A steady stream of leaves fluttered from above as animals skittered through the branches. The tree bark broke into thick vertical fissures, covered by varying shades of green moss. Vines spiraled from the top of the canopy where yellow birds sang.
Hardly any branches swooped to the ground, meaning I wouldn’t be able to climb here. Not that I could have climbed anyway.
I wandered for what seemed like hours. Except for the noise I made tripping over the occasional puff bird or horned rabbit, everything seemed quiet.
And then a slow rumble, like a distant storm, sounded ahead. It grew until the raging thunder turned to wild thrashing. Along the path ahead of me, something crushed the bushes and sent the puff birds scrambling. A flock of bright birds squawked above me as they took to the air. Twirling feathers fell with the leaves, and the vines swayed ominously behind them.
“What now?”
Chapter Ten
I threw myself down behind the closest bush. The branches stuck in my hair, but I hardly noticed. The thundering mass rolling towards me had my attention. What was this new challenge? My mind spun with Dreamscape’s dangers: magical creatures, dragon weeds, puff birds, monsters, thieves, armored knights, and giants. And those were just the ones I knew about.
The noise rose in crescendo as underbrush and vines fell onto the trail, trampled by the incoming threat. The moment the beast broke into view, I knew my hiding spot would not protect me.
Giants.
Why did it have to be giants?
I didn’t have time to wonder. Hiding wouldn’t save me from two steamrolling giants. Even if they didn’t roll over me, they’d track me down with their heightened sense of smell. I’d have to fight. My heart hammered in my chest, and the dagger slipped in my grip.
I cursed and jumped out from behind the bushes. A lone man running in front of the oncoming giants sped past me, sliding to a stop as soon as he caught sight of me.
“It’s you!” he cried, doubling back and grabbing my arms. “I found you!” His voice softened, and he disarmed me with his smile. He hunched over to catch his breath, then glanced back up at me. “You have no idea how relieved I am to see you. Hide your hair and get behind me.” He turned back to the giants. His intense eyes, half-hidden beneath his dark hair, distracted me as they darted between the path and me.
It took a moment to comprehend what he’d said.
“What?” I asked, my hands flying to my hair in confusion. What a strange request.
“Hide your hair, Goldy, and move away,” he said before turning back towards the rumbling forest, brandishing his sword. “Things are about to get dangerous.”
“Hide my hair?” He was concerned with my hair when his stuck out in all directions? I ran my fingers through my tangles and threw one of the broken branches at his feet. My lips curled up in defiance, and he stared at me in disbelief. Then his mouth dropped as I limped forward next to him, gripping the dagger.
“Yes, your hair.” He raised his eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you’re really going to fight.”
“Don’t underestimate me. I can take care of myself,” I retorted, ignoring him to focus on the giants tromping closer at a deceptively slow pace. The ground shook with every movement. I looked over at his smug grin and tightened my grip on the dagger. It was too late to back out now.
“Goldy,” he whispered. “I don’t think you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“I could say the same for you,” I said, refusing to take my eyes off the giant, although he may have had a point.
“Suit yourself.” He chuckled. “Have you ever fought a giant before?”
“What?” I asked, barely able to hear him over my heartbeat. “No, I’ve never fought a giant.” I wanted to add that we didn’t have unicorns or dragons either in the real world, but I bit my tongue. While we didn’t have mythological creatures, arrogant teenage boys seemed universal.
He gave a slow whistle. “This will be fun then. Watch me if you can. Their weak spot is on the side of their head: aim right above the ears. And be careful when they turn around. They move quicker than you’d think, and one strike from their fist will knock you out cold. Trust me, I know.” He rubbed his cheek.
I swallowed hard and nodded.
“And if you get too tired or it looks like he’s going to win, just play dead. I’ll come by to save you.” He laughed as if he’d told a joke.
I couldn’t tell if he was laughing at me, the situation, or just staving off his own anxiety. “Oh, I won’t need saving,” I said. “But remember your own advice, you might need it.”
“Oh, Goldy, this is going to be fun.”
I tightened my jaw. “Stop calling me that.”
“What?” he asked with an arched brow.
“Goldy. It’s not my name.”
“Sorry, my lady. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just seemed fitting.”
“Why, because of my hair?” I snapped, refusing to be swayed by his softened tone. He lowered his sword.
“No, my lady,” he said in a grave tone. “Because you’re a treasure.”
What? My annoyance melted. Was he serious? I couldn’t focus on it. There were giants coming at us. Giants! I turned away from him and pointed my dagger towards the trail.
“They’re almost here,” I said.
“This is your last chance to leave. Seriously, just move to the side. I’ll take care of them.”
“No way.” No one was going to tell me what to do anymore, especially when I was supposed to be the hero. “Just stand back and watch me. You might learn something,” I said, twisting my left arm around one of the long vines at my side. After double-checking
that it would hold, I ran and jumped, kicking off the tree. I arched through the air, racing towards one of the giants.
I had never been in a fight before. I’d fantasized about it, of course, but had never followed through. I channeled that energy into art or climbing. As I swung through the air, none of that inexperience bothered me. Pride had a way of silencing everything else, especially sound judgment.
My feet connected with the side of the giant’s head, knocking him to the ground. Just like in the game, a quick kick to the head, and he was done. My moment of relief was short-lived. By the time I landed and unwound the vine from my arm, the giant had regained his balance. And he was mad.
Now what? I thought about running away, but couldn’t. Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew the mysterious man was watching.
I ran to one side and then lunged to the other, ducking under a fallen log. The giant followed. His thick steps slowed in the brush, but when he cleared it, leaving a trampled mess behind him, he grinned at me. Pointed teeth gleamed under his wide mouth as he licked his lips. A shudder ran through me.
I looked back and saw the man leaning against a tree, a wry expression on his face. No. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of watching me fail. I ran back towards the giant, dove beneath his legs, barely avoiding his swinging fist, and darted around him once more. My chest burned. I couldn’t keep this up much longer.
Nothing I knew from the game seemed applicable. All I had to do there was jump on top of their heads. I had already done that, and it didn’t work.
I ducked, skimming past his fist a second time. The whoosh of air sent my heart racing. I ducked again, and sidestepped to the left. He swung, but I dodged it again. When he stepped towards me, I moved back. Then the familiar routine struck me. A smile grew on my face, and I winked at the giant. Perhaps I could win after all.
The rest of the ridiculous moves from the Dreamscape dance sequence flooded my mind.
Dreamscape: Saving Alex Page 8