My face was splattered with spider pieces. I felt them coat my arms for a heartbeat before they dissolved into dust, leaving me coughing and gagging.
I blinked to clear my eyes.
The world came into focus again and, feeling dazed, I watched the orb of XP drift lazily toward me. Then my brain switched back on and I snatched it.
I squeezed it against my chest, feeling its warmth seep through my skin. I felt myself get a tiny bit stronger and I smiled despite myself. The XP felt good, like eating did.
I heard the slashing of a sword again and rolled instinctively from beneath the table, scrambling to my feet, ready to sprint through the gap in the wall.
"What do we have here?" a voice called behind me—young, male, amused.
I froze mid-stride. Turning slowly, I saw him standing amidst the wreckage.
He was ragged in the kind of way that demanded respect—like someone who had bled for their survival. He had matted brown hair and a sort of patchwork armour.
When our eyes met, he smiled, but it wasn't warm. It was the kind of smile a cat gives a mouse before the pounce.
Rotcastor.
"What's a little newbie doing all the way out here?" he said, stepping closer with quiet grace. He stopped three cubes away.
This was too casual, he was too casual, but I knew better. This had to be a trick.
I took my first step toward the gap.
Then he said something that rooted me in place. "Alis De Aura. Age sixteen. Non-native to this Cradle. Stats level one. Days survived: one. Runner status: Codewright." He spoke in the same monotone I'd heard countless times. I bristled with confusion.
"You're a Codewright?" I said in a tiny voice.
His smug smile deepened. "Don't look so surprised."
A flare of need enveloped me. "Are there more of you here? A community maybe?" I asked, because maybe the answer to all my troubles could be this simple. "Have you seen a little girl? She looks a lot like me…"
He kept smiling. It grew almost patronizing.
"Stop looking at me like that," I snapped. "Just answer. Have you seen a girl named Vivid De Aura?"
"To answer your first question: no. Second question?" He tilted his head. "Also no. We don't have many kids here."
A sudden sadness crossed his features before they hardened again. But when his walls came down I glimpsed something deeper.
A great sadness. He was young—maybe seventeen—but his eyes were old like my parents had been. Dull almost, tired. Watching everything constantly.
He had not had an easy life, I concluded.
Just as quickly he was hard as stone. He kicked aside the broken table, sending it flying. I winced as it shattered.
Then I saw it. An overstuffed inventory belt. He was carrying way more than one person could gather alone. Which could only mean one thing.
It all clicked into place. He wasn't one of the good guys.
"You're a looter," I breathed. I felt the urge to run again, but something stopped me in my tracks. I turned back to the man and anger coloured my cheeks. I pointed an accusing finger in his face. "You're supposed to be fixing the world, not tearing it apart!"
He barked a laugh, loud and cruel.
"'Fix the world?'" he echoed in a mockery of my voice. "Fix this?" He gestured to the wreckage. "Oh, the young and naïve..."
It was my turn now.
I narrowed my eyes, concentrating. I let the code soak into my mind, giving me his readout. "Rebel Ray. Age seventeen. Native to the Cradle. Runner status: Rotcastor... modified?"
I paused at the word.
"'Modified'? That what they call traitors now?" I muttered and started toward the gap.
I was finished here.
Just as I was about to climb out, he caught ahold of my arm. "You're welcome."
I stopped and half turned. I wondered if I should slap him.
"Let go of me," I said in a warning tone.
"I saved your life. You'd have been spider food without me. If I wanted your loot, I could've just waited and picked your bones clean."
I flinched.
"You see, not all Rotcastors are evil." He let go of my arm and I rubbed the skin where his fingers had dug in.
"I need you, Alis," he said smoothly. "In return for saving your life. Since you've got no currency, I'll settle for a favor or two."
I groaned quietly to myself. "So you're a mercenary. Do you run around saving people so they have to pay you back?"
"Think of it as... job training." His tone darkened. I saw the amused edge leave his face. "I need someone to help me track. A rival clan stole something from me and my people. We've been searching ever since. I felt you tracing someone—you're good."
"You want me as your personal bounty hunter?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Simple enough, then I could be free of him. "Fine. Who am I tracing?"
"Rotcastor. Call sign Hexa Quell. Female. Twenties. Normal runner status." He rattled it off quickly. "I tracked her to this area, but I lost her in the corrupted forest."
"What did she take?"
"Not important for you to know," he snapped. "Just find her."
I sat back down on the dusty floor and closed my eyes. My mind slipped into the layer beneath—the digital tracework embedded in the Cradle. I filtered through the noise, discarded two false matches, and followed a third that began near the house and veered into the forest.
It braided soon after it had left the house, three other strands joining it. They hadn't gotten very far.
I opened my eyes.
"She's traveling with three others. Unknowns. Still in the forest," I said. "I can show you the way."
His eyebrows rose. "Impressively fast, for a low-stat runner."
I tried to think of a snappy retort, but my stomach grumbled with hunger and I saw my stats had plummeted again. I let out a tiny groan.
"Hungry?" he asked.
I wondered what the price would be for his food.
I stood and pushed past him toward the open air. He followed, quieter now. From his pack he pulled out an apple and handed it to me.
"Free of charge. I need you alert to track," he said.
I took it. The taste was bright and sweet. Energy returned to my limbs in a quick rush of sugar and pulp.
"Thank you," I said. Then I slung my multitool over my shoulder. "This way."
He nodded, following.
"What'll you do when we find them?"
I tensed for his answer.
"Depends on who they are," he replied coolly. "Could get messy."
"I'm just your tracer but I'm not killing anyone," I said through gritted teeth. "So don't expect me to fight."
"Never asked you to," he replied, voice even. "Just lead the way."
We had only gotten a dozen or so blocks from the house when the air filled with a strange noise.
"Stop!" a voice boomed behind us.
Rebel cursed and spun on his heel. "There's nothing illegal here, Cael. Just a bit of clan business."
Rebel had puffed out his chest. I peered around his elbow to see the new arrival—Cael—and was startled to see he was in a full suit of armour. Unlike Rebel, it was spotless, the white metal polished to a shine.
His helmeted head swiveled to me and I bristled despite myself.
"Who is this?" Cael raised a hand towards me.
"A newbie. You know I like my strays," Rebel said, and I saw the tension rippling off of him.
Cael looked back at me. "Name? Status?"
"I told you, Cael, this is clan business. Now leave us and find yourself some real troublemakers," Rebel growled. "Plenty of those—we both know that well enough."
"I would watch your tone with me, Rebel Ray," Cael warned.
They both seemed to take half a step toward each other.
"I'm Alis," I cut in.
Cael stopped briefly. "Alis of?"
"Alis De Aura," I corrected myself.
"I don't believe I have ever met a De Aura. Home village?" he asked. He had dropped some of his tough-guy energy and seemed more relaxed.
He was young, I realized with a start. Underneath his scowl were boyish features.
"Don't have one," I said quietly. "I'm just a newbie like Rebel Ray here told you. Stray through and through."
Cael smiled softly and approached, holding out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Miss De Aura. I am Cael."
I put my hand in his and he squeezed it, bowing his head slightly before letting go.
He then straightened back up and addressed Rebel. "You're cleared," he informed us. He was all business again. "Go off on your way."
Rebel guided me away, but as we walked Cael called after me, "I hope I will meet you again soon."
I nodded quickly. A tiny bit of blush crept onto my cheeks.
As we put distance between us and Cael, I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Rebel, though, did not let up on the cursing.
I led Rebel along the twisting path that many footsteps had made. It looked like an informal road carved by desperate feet—worn, uneven, and haunted. If I could still call this a forest, it had long stopped pretending to be natural.
The further away we got from Cael, the more Rebel relaxed. He didn't try to speak to me, which was good because I didn't want conversation.
My head pounded from keeping both my physical focus and mental trace active. The world blinked in and out of code: solid objects, flickering 0s and 1s underneath, always threatening to collapse.
Finally we slowed to a stop.
I bumped into an outstretched arm and found Rebel staring ahead.
A thin column of smoke curled upward like a warning flag.
"Hexa Quell is just ahead," I said, folding my arms to my chest. "I've paid my debt. So I'll be on my way."
"Stay close until this is through," Rebel muttered, eyes scanning the trees. "This could get rough. The Quell clan are a nasty bunch and I don't want her crew chasing you down. You wouldn't stand a chance."
Exactly why I wanted to stay out of it. I wanted to yell this at him, but I kept my mouth shut.
"Hexa Quell," Rebel called, voice booming like a spell. The force of it stirred the leaves into disintegration—dust spiraled through the air like ash after a fire. "Game's up. I've found you. Return what you've stolen from me."
I coughed as the debris filled my lungs with decay. Rebel pushed me back several steps.
"Is that who I think it is?" a female voice answered from the trees. Even from here I could hear only one tone—amused. "You don't know when to quit, do you, Rebel Ray?"
She gave a horrible squeaky laugh. I felt the hair on my arms stand up.
She stepped out of the trees looking like she belonged there.
Hexa Quell was nothing short of wild. Her eyes glowed unnatural hot pink, her hair shimmered with a sticky, candy-floss sheen. Uncanny. Slightly unhinged.
"Who's the stray?" she asked, cocking her head at me.
If I had thought Rebel scary, he had nothing on Hexa. She gazed at me, licking her lips. I took a step back away from her. I could feel it from here—the manic energy that surrounded her repulsed me.
She was all wrong. Unnatural.
"Hand it over, Hexa Quell. We both know you have it," Rebel said, tone tight. "No need for anyone to get hurt."
Hexa grinned, tongue sliding between her teeth. "Tough, Rebel. Finders keepers."
It was something in her predatory gaze that stirred my anger. The way she gazed at us like she'd eat us alive.
My stomach twisted.
"You stole it," I spoke on impulse. Words just seemed to spill out. "Give it back. It doesn't belong to you."
Rebel shot me a glare. "Don't talk."
Hexa sneered at me for a moment and I quailed. Then Hexa snorted and turned back to Rebel.
"Didn't know you were playing mentor, Rebel Ray. Did you rescue her, Rebel? Save her from the big bad monsters?"
Rebel didn't take her bait and I saw her eyes flash.
She pushed right into my face—too close. Her breath was stale, her voice syrupy and cruel.
"Get lost, newbie. Go play somewhere else."
She tapped my nose indulgently, like I was her misbehaving child.
I shrank back further.
Rebel exhaled sharply, drawing his weapons. "I don't want to hurt you, Hexa Quell. Or your crew. But I will if I have to."
"Oh please." She rolled her eyes and unsheathed a pair of daggers with a theatrical twirl. "We've been itching for a duel."
The forest shifted.
From behind her, three more figures stepped out. Two girls. One guy. All wearing the same smugness as armor.
Rebel looked at me. I stared back.
He turned back to Hexa. "Four on one," he goaded her. "You afraid?"
Hexa hesitated—only for a flicker—before smirking. "Never."
She launched forward like a beast unchained. She leapt off a cracked stump, daggers flashing toward Rebel. He rolled, barely missing her blades. Dust exploded where she struck.
He was up again in seconds, slamming into her with ruthless precision. They fought fast and close, movements too sharp to follow.
I stood frozen.
I knew this feeling.
That breathless moment before someone died.
"Stop it!" I screamed.
No one listened.
"I said—" I drew in a deeper breath, felt the code rise like heat under my skin, "STOP IT!"
The ground beneath them buckled—subtly, but enough. I'd rewritten its coordinates in a flash of thought.
Hexa stumbled, momentum slamming her sideways into a tree stump. She gasped for breath.
"Codewright!" she shouted. "GET HER!"
One of her crew stepped forward—
Rebel was faster.
He threw himself between me and the others. "She's in my debt," he growled.
Then he strode toward Hexa and yanked a canister off her belt. Whatever was in it hissed faintly. He kicked her in the ribs—hard enough to fold her sideways.
She let out a moan like a kicked puppy.
For an instant I felt bad for her. She was so tiny curled on the ground.
I hoped Rebel hadn't hurt her seriously.
Then I remembered the taste of her and shuddered.
She was a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Rebel walked a circle around her, kicking her twice more.
"You're lucky I came," he muttered. "Next time, I'll send someone less forgiving."
Her crew seemed at a loss without her giving instructions. As soon as we stepped back they had surrounded her like a hive of angry bees.
We retreated fast. Rebel locked the canister to his belt as we ran.
Once we were far enough, he shoved me back against a cracked, barkless tree. I hit it hard and felt the air leave my lungs. My stats flashed warning lights.
"What were you thinking?" he snarled.
"I didn't want to see someone die!" I shoved him back. "And I'm not in your debt anymore, so I'll be on my way."
"No, you won't." His voice was low, dangerous. "Hexa and her people will hunt you now. You exposed yourself as a Codewright."
I crossed my arms. "I'm not a Rotcastor or part of an enemy clan. I'm just a nobody..."
"No," he said. "You're something worse. You're so naive." His eyes burned like the end of a fuse. "And in this place? That'll get you captured. Or sold. You've already had one brush with Cael—enforcer, practically Prince, of the Order of Eden. They would take you and lock you away."
The Order of Eden?
I thought about the softness I'd seen in Cael and had trouble with the word enforcer. He had seemed civil. I tried to wrap my head around the word Prince and drew a blank.
"I don't know what you mean," I said.
He sighed and put a hand through his hair. "We just call them Elites. You don't get the attention of the Elites. End of story."
I looked him over—really looked at him.
He wasn't just angry.
He was scared.
I pushed away his words. It was even more important to find Vivid.
She would be in the same danger as me.
"I have my own mission." I squared myself to run.
"Don't think I can't Codewright too," Rebel muttered. "Do you want the easy way or will I have to drag you?"
We considered each other for a moment.
I felt his energy pulsing off of him and got a sense for the first time of the magnitude of his talent. He had a raw power I had never felt.
I threw my hands up in the air.
He was right about one thing.
I couldn't find my sister from a cell after all.