“You may have learned a trick or two, but you’re still no match for me.”
“You’re right, I’m not your match. I’m better.” Arrow flipped through the air and kicked out with his feet, connecting with Berkos’ chest. The king flew back, landing against the far wall.
Berkos shook his head and stood, his hand on his ribcage. “That’s the last hit you’ll get.”
“So you say,” Arrow said, running forward, his blade whistling through the air as he sliced at Berkos’ head.
Berkos redirected the hit and smacked him with the side of his blade. The shallow cut streaked blood across Arrow’s face. He covered his face, paling when he saw the blood drip off his hand.
I slid around the room, pressing against the wall until I stood behind the throne. This had to end before Berkos maimed Arrow. Once in position, I waved my arms.
Arrow saw me and pressed forward, forcing Berkos back, thrust after thrust. I tasted the metallic twinge of blood in the air and flinched with every crash of the swords. He came at me quickly. I barely had time to strategize before I saw the swing of the keys and heard the whirling of the swords.
I leaned forward from behind his throne, reaching forward tentatively to avoid the moving blades. Berkos grabbed my wrist and twisted it until I spun in front of him.
His warm breath on the back of my neck sent shivers down my spine. He twisted my wrist until the pain forced me to release the dagger. With his other hand, he grabbed it and held it against my throat. The jewels sparkled along the hilt. I trembled despite my best efforts.
“Arrow,” I said, my voice quivering.
He glanced between me and the king and raised the tip of his sword. “Let her go. Your fight’s with me and the rebellion, not her. You said so yourself.”
“Ah, yes, I did. But I also gave her the chance to leave,” Berkos said, his voice rising in a manic cackle.
Tears trailed down my face, blending with the blood dripping from the tip of the blade as it slid down my neck and under my shirt.
Berkos wiped it with his finger and licked it. “I generally don’t believe in second chances. But maybe an arrangement can be made,” he said, releasing the pressure against my neck. “What are you prepared to give up for her?”
He looked at me and then back to the king. “Name your price.”
“Arrow, you can’t,” I pleaded. “Think of the queen and the people depending on you. I’m nothing.”
“She makes a passionate plea. But let me ask you, dear boy. Is life worth living without the one you love?”
“Don’t listen to him. Don’t give up what you have worked for these past few years for what we’ve shared in only a couple of weeks.”
“You know what these weeks have meant,” Arrow said.
I did. That made this choice so much more difficult. I saw the pain in Arrow’s eyes, the guilt as he weighed my life against the lives of the others. No matter which way he chose, doubt and regret would haunt him forever. The sword shook in his hand.
I couldn’t save him or the rebellion and win the game. I had to choose between what I wanted and the greater good. Looking between the two men, weighing the options in my mind, I realized my choice was clear. And it didn’t have anything to do with being a hero. It had to do with being me.
I looked over at Arrow. “Please don’t. I’m not worth it. The rebellion may want me, but they don’t need me. They need you.”
“They may not need you, but I do. Let her go!” he yelled.
The reverberation of his sword hitting the ground shook me to the core. I closed my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Arrow.” I dropped the keys to the ground. A stray tear slid down my face, blurring his image as I pressed my right leg against Berkos’ leg.
“Game over,” I said, twisting the lever on the whip up to the highest level.
Berkos jerked his head down, confusion flickering to fear as he realized what I had done.
“No!” Arrow’s screams blended with my own. Waves of electricity shook my body. The hum vibrated through me, climaxing in a gray blur as my vision failed.
My world disappeared into a limbo. Everything hid behind a veil of light, and loud ringing drowned out all sound for what felt like hours. I slowly regained my senses as spasms flared down my side. I couldn’t move.
The outline of the window lit up with the flash of fireworks. I tried to move again, and my arms buckled. Tears puddled around my cheek as I stared helplessly at the body in front of me.
King Berkos stared back, the sneer frozen on his face, his eyes glinting with hatred. Stuck in the same place I was, hanging to the threads of life, I saw his fingers inch forward. Between us, the whip buzzed, leaving charred scars across the marble floor.
Pulling the energy from every inch of my body, I moved my hand forward in a last battle of wills. The handle hummed through me as I grasped the cold metal and pulled it to my side. Berkos flinched as I flicked the power lever off, and the hum fell silent.
Before I closed my eyes, I saw Arrow creep up behind him. Sadness haunted Arrow’s face. Deep circles I hadn’t noticed before highlighted the red splotches around his eyes. I wished I could see him smile, if only for a last time. Berkos stole his attention. Bursts of fireworks glinted off my dagger as Arrow held it high above the king. I closed my eyes.
Berkos’ scream echoed in my soul.
It was done. Arrow had killed the king, and all I could do was cry. Strong arms wrapped around me. He cradled me to his chest, rocking back and forth.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he whispered, kissing my forehead.
“Y-you did it,” I stuttered, slowly forming the words.
“We did it. I never could have gotten here without you.” He brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes.
I bit my lip, wishing the tears would freeze like the rest of my body had. “Keys.”
“What?” He looked behind me at the discarded ring of keys.
“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here. You still need to rescue the queen. She’s down below, in the stairway behind this room. You should be able to find it without a problem.”
“I’m not worried about any of that right now,” he said, rocking me again. “I’m staying here with you.”
“But…”
“I’ll be here for as long as I can. I’m not ready to let you go.”
I smiled up at him, wishing the sadness in his eyes wasn’t a reflection of the grief he saw in me. “I wanted an adventure,” I breathed. “You gave me an unforgettable one.”
He gave me the smile I had hoped for, the one that had stolen my heart. I looked away, watching the fireworks fade into the darkness. The sky separated into a pixelated mosaic of colors.
Soft golden flakes blew in from the window, landing on my knee. I lowered my eyes, watching the golden dust swirl around me. Energy hummed through my body.
I looked up at Arrow, his eyes wide in disbelief. An overwhelming sadness filled me.
“It’s time,” I whispered.
He nodded. His quiet acceptance broke my heart.
“I don’t want to leave you,” I said, tightening my grip on his vest. My voice disappeared beneath the barrage of whirling flakes.
“You never will. I’ll always be here. You know where to find me.”
“In the game? I want more than that.” My chin trembled.
“No, I’m not just in the game anymore. I’m right here. Always.” He pointed to his heart.
I looked down at our hands, mine now covered in golden light, his pale. “But I’m not ready to go.”
“We’re never ready. There’s never a good time say goodbye.”
He leaned forward, kissing me one last time. I closed my eyes and responded to his lips. His fingers traced the outline of my jaw, and a soft sigh escaped me. In that moment, everything disappeared except him and me and the feelings we shared.
Then a rush of electricity ran through me, and I felt the golden light rise from my legs over
my elbows until the sensation of our kiss disappeared under the control of the rhythmic hum.
A whirlwind of golden flakes separated our hands, tearing us violently apart. My heart ached and my chest heaved as Arrow disappeared behind the golden storm.
“No!” I whispered, wishing I had the strength to scream.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“No!” I jumped up, wiping the fuzz from the corner of my eyes. Everything blurred under the bright light of the sun. My head pounded as I recognized the familiar song in the background.
“Arrow?” I asked, rubbing my eyes harder.
“Hmm?” An unexpected but familiar voice grumbled. Natalie.
“Not yet. I’m not ready to go,” I murmured, closing my eyes, knowing even as I said it that it wasn’t my choice. There was no going back after game over.
Natalie mumbled something incoherent, then tapered off into silence.
I ignored the grumbles and concentrated on the song in the background, memorizing the endless loop of music, holding on to the last piece of Lockhorn I could. I knew reality waited when I opened my eyes, but I wasn’t ready to let go. So I kept them shut.
But no matter how much I wanted to hold on to my memories of Arrow, I couldn’t ignore the soft blankets at my side or the lingering fragrance of cinnamon. No matter how much I fought it, I couldn’t deny the truth. I was home.
The pang of disappointment surprised me.
Home. That word held so many conflicting meanings for me now.
I wasn’t ready to be back. After months of fighting to stay here and weeks—in game time, at least—of trying to get back, this was the last place I wanted to be. It didn’t seem fair. Where was the happy ending I wanted?
This wasn’t it. That realization stabbed me.
What I’d thought I wanted now seemed minor in comparison to what I knew I could have. I wanted more. I didn’t want a moment from my past or an adventure to dream about, I wanted to live it. But that meant opening my eyes.
Could I do that? Open my eyes and accept whatever reality awaited me? I didn’t know, but I had to try.
I exhaled deeply and gripped the blanket at my side, waiting for the haze to clear. Even through the blurriness, I recognized the familiar shapes of my trophies and the pictures covering the wall. Everything was the same as when I’d left. Boxes lined the far wall, and, above them, my old photos stared at me. The fights I had gotten into for those torn images now seemed pointless.
My surroundings felt strange, memories of a lifetime ago. Their familiarity didn’t bring the comfort I’d come to expect, just a pit in my stomach. The mosaic of colors I had prided myself on seemed dull. Artwork from the past filled the spaces that should have been left for future projects.
I clutched the blanket and lifted it to my mouth to muffle my scream.
Natalie grumbled on the floor again, tucking her head deeper into the sleeping bag in protest. The tips of her long hair curled out, half-hiding the pile of toppled cinnamon popcorn at her side. I watched breathlessly, waiting to see if she moved, but besides the slow rise and fall of the bag, she remained still.
I sighed and dangled my feet over the edge of the bed, careful to avoid waking her. Natalie usually slept in later than me, and today I was counting on it. I wasn’t ready to jump back into real life yet.
Pins and needles shot through my feet as I dangled them over the edge of the bed. I rubbed my ankle, doing a double take at the red lines crisscrossing up my shin. The indentations of the blankets looked oddly familiar. Dismissing what had happened as a dream seemed absurd. Every place, event, and person was imprinted on me.
I shook my head and walked to the nearest wall, cursing when I tripped over the stack of unused boxes lying half-hidden beneath my dresser. Hopping on one foot, I hobbled over to the wall where the bulletin board full of familiar faces smiled at me.
The sides of my mouth inched up as I unpinned the closest picture. An old photo of Natalie and me after the first game she cheered at. My uneven pigtails looked misplaced beside her perfectly coiled curls. That’s what we were, two odd pieces that fit together perfectly. I remembered that game. We’d had a sleepover afterwards, and the next morning we each ate half a dozen doughnuts. The photo dimmed compared to my memory.
I grabbed the photo next to it and peeked at the inscription on the back: Halloween, 7th grade. That was the year of the big sleepover at Melissa’s house. There was no way I could forget that or the midnight swim in our mermaid costumes. I bit my lower lip as a grin grew on my face.
I looked at the next photo and the ones behind it, all memories I hadn’t forgotten. In fact, every photo on that board seemed a pale comparison to the stories I remembered.
After one last look at the photos in my hand, I dropped them into the half-filled moving box at my side. The photos flipped over in all directions as they fell, but that didn’t matter. I didn’t need to see them to remember those moments in my heart.
My fingers itched for action. It was like traversing the dark forest all over again. After the first step, the rest came easily. Posters came down, followed by my artwork. Everything found its way into the box, and then I settled back on the edge of my bed.
I could no longer filter out the endlessly looping song in the background. Tucking my knees inside my white shirt, I thought about the game on the screen. I glanced around my room, stopping at the red door that led to the hallway. Then I glanced down at the pile of stale cinnamon popcorn around Natalie’s head and settled my gaze on the indentions on my leg.
What had happened to me? Which was more absurd, believing that the game was real or that I had dreamed it all up? Was it even possible to dream so vividly that I feared death and fell in love? I traced my lips. I didn’t know which option I wanted to be true. Both seemed inadequate to answer the questions racing through my mind or settle the tremors in my heart.
But it was my choice. What did I want to believe?
I screamed into the pillow and hurled it across the room, nearly hitting the flashing screen. Then I crawled to the edge of the bed, almost falling off onto Natalie as I picked it back up.
The screen flashed again, and the final scene of the game repeated itself. I held my breath, watching. The key to the dungeon opened the cell door. My chest burned as I watched the little pink queen stand and twirl in victory. Fireworks burst at the top of the screen, and a slow march of golden letters along the bottom announced the end of the game.
“Arrow,” I murmured. “You did it. You saved the queen.” Tears stung as they filled my eyes.
“Stop that,” Natalie grumbled behind me.
“What?” I turned, surprised.
She rubbed her eyes, smearing the last of her mascara down her cheek. Her exasperated look spoke volumes. “No crying this early in the morning. You’re not leaving until this afternoon.”
“No, you’re right,” I said, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “No more tears.”
She looked around the room at the empty walls and full boxes and arched her eyebrows. “How long have you been up?”
“Not too long. I couldn’t sleep.” What else could I tell her? “I had too many things going through my mind.”
“That makes sense. It looks like you packed a lot.” She stared at me like she wanted to say more.
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure. I can’t quite place it. You just seem different this morning, that’s all.”
After a moment, I said, “Last night was fun.”
She propped herself up on her elbows. “It was. I haven’t played that game in years. I can’t believe you still remembered all of it.”
“There’s a lot that I think I missed. Are you ready to play again?” I asked, tossing her a controller.
“Seriously, this early? What about packing?”
“There’ll be time later. Worst case, I’ll let my mom finish it. It’s just stuff, right?”
Natalie stared at me and finally shook her head.
�
��What?”
“Nothing, you’re just different from yesterday. Happier…”
“I guess I finally realized there were more important things to do than hold onto the past. Like this,” I said, nodding towards the screen. I settled back into the groove of blankets and closed my eyes, letting the rhythm of the song reach my soul. As I punched in the familiar start code and saw the golden tornado swirl across the screen, I turned to look at Natalie.
“What do you say we don’t take the shortcut this time?”
She shrugged and settled in next to me. “Are you sure we’ll have enough time for that?”
“Yes,” I said, urging the little green hero into the dark forest. “There’s always time for an adventure.”
About the Author
Kirstin Pulioff is a storyteller at heart. Born and raised in Southern California, she moved to the Pacific Northwest to follow her dreams and graduated from Oregon State University with a degree in Forest Management. Happily married and a mother of two, she lives in the foothills of Colorado. When she’s not writing an adventure, she’s busy living one.
Website: www.kirstinpulioff.com
Facebook: KirstinPulioffAuthor
Twitter: @KirstinPulioff
Amazon: Author & Book Page
Goodreads: Kirstin Pulioff
Published Works
Middle Grade
The Princess Madeline series
The Escape of Princess Madeline
The Battle for Princess Madeline
The Dragon and Princess Madeline
The Princess Madeline Trilogy
Young Adult
Dreamscape: Saving Alex
Short Stories
The Ivory Tower
Boone’s Journey
Sneak Peek—The Ivory Tower
I stopped counting and opened my eyes. Silence magnified the shuffling of leaves and the harsh caws of the crows.
Dreamscape: Saving Alex Page 34