I expected the light of leveling up to brighten my tired eyes, and to feel the relief of having one less person trying to kill me.
And I wanted some kind of justice for the hand she cut off.
I drank my hibisi and turned on stealth, moving away from where my hand dripped blood, moving where no one could see me. The skin at the end of my arm turned solid. A clip appeared at the end of the stub. I could attach a mechanical hand if I wanted. I glanced at the Historians I could recycle for parts.
But then I paused and glanced over.
I didn’t expect the look on Ryo’s face. I didn’t expect Grigfen to abandon his work, to walk away from the discarded death harness, and rush to Dagney’s side.
But they moved like they’d stopped playing the game.
They’d broken character when Andrew had died, but this was different. They worked to heal her as though the game didn’t matter without her.
The new Everstrider lunged through the Historians, hunting me with a sniff, as if she could track my smell.
Grigfen looked over his shoulder. “Don’t kill McKenna, Bluebird. If she dies in the game, she dies for real.”
“Disarm and imprison. Got it,” Bluebird shouted.
Bluebird … As in bluebird_ofdeath?
Why would Grigfen lie to his partner?
Stealth ended.
I didn’t have a place to hide. Bluebird lunged for me, her sword swinging. I fought back with my wings, but doubt had undercut my performance. She slammed her sword down and I blocked her again, spinning once. She hit the butt of her sword into my helmet, knocking me over.
I slammed into a Historian, the glass at my back shattering. I thought that might happen. I snapped a switch and my wings covered with a fan of gold.
Why would they add another player right now? They already had a team, and now someone came in out of nowhere? Why would they mess up the rising tension like that?
I spun and shot a blade. It missed her heart, the blade spinning wildly, cutting a line through her uniform sleeve. She gasped and grabbed her arm where the blade had marked a line of blood. I should have used a poisoned blade.
Next time.
“Does it hurt?” I asked with my queen’s smile.
She came from outside the game so there hadn’t been enough time for them to tell her the rules of this trick. I was going to catch them in their lie.
Her eyes lifted to meet mine. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
I froze.
How did she know to lie?
She showed me her palm, painted red.
I aimed my remaining blade launcher at her. She grinned, and quicker than I thought possible, she rushed for me, twisting in the air in some high-flying trick before she slammed her feet into my chest.
She stood over me with a sword in each hand held to my throat, her armored heels holding my arms down to the ground.
I tried to fight, but I couldn’t. This was not my glorious death scene ending. It was pathetic and confusing. Could the cameras just turn off for a second? I couldn’t remember the lines I’d written for this moment. I couldn’t imagine what my character would be feeling right now.
They felt pain?
She studied my expression. “I have a message for you. I know I do.”
Her grip stayed at her hilt, but she didn’t swing. She didn’t hurt me. Why didn’t they hurt me? Ryo had left, but Grigfen huddled over Dagney’s body, his back to me.
I aimed toward his back. My blade launcher had armed, but I couldn’t press the trigger.
This had to be a trick.
But why wouldn’t they use this trick to hurt me? Why didn’t they just finish me off?
“It was a message from your father. Something about a princess. Something.”
My dad? He always called me princess. “You need seer water.” My voice was ragged.
If she really had a message from my dad, I’d do anything to hear it.
“Does it really hurt?” I said in a soft voice. “Break character for a second. No tricks. No lies. Does it really hurt?”
She nodded and I closed my eyes. But there was no hiding from this.
So they felt pain. That didn’t mean anything.
Andrew.
I didn’t see it happen, but I knew from when I demonstrated the wings on the Devani princess what it had looked like. His mouth would have widened as the death wings he’d been wearing unfurled, the Whirligig engine humming. He’d look for me, but I wouldn’t even meet his eyes as the sharp golden