SAVE POINT 40

Reloading Temple Balcony Level & An Arrow-Hit Callen AHHH!!!...77%

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Rosabella

What do I do?

What do I DO?!

Callen slumps forward, the entire weight of his suddenly ridged body pressing into my chest, his head lolling on my shoulder. I can feel his blood seep into the fabric of my body armor and see the feathered arrow shaft anchored in is back, bobbing up and down.

Oh, God, I'm gonna be sick.

"Callen?" I try, shoving him backwards as panic and desperation lace my voice tighter than an ice skate. "Listen, Callen," I grasp his waning face between both of my hands, trying to get his wandering, glossing-over eyes to focus on me. My hands leave red fingerprints on his white flesh from blood I didn't know was there, "Callen, you have to be okay—I need you."

"We need YOU," the man whispers; his voice is so grating and faint that I have to nearly press my ear to his forehead to hear it.

Tears well up in my eyes.

No.

NO!

The man is the one person in the group who understands how hard it is to be me—to have to shoulder everything my parents unknowingly left behind:

The truth of Goran's treachery—

My own magic—

He got the internal struggle. He'd sat outside my bathroom door in NYC and patiently waited for me to figure everything out. He'd been there to offer me a way out when no one else had even presented that as an option and I'm...

I'm grateful to him.

"Callen, please," I beg, sobbing even as I try to hold back the crashing emotions.

I hear Joy running across the balcony to get to us, each thud of her boots a muffled boom.

I hear Dormouse take a sharp breath in over me.

—See the ends of Joy's pink hair and Rainer's pricklish beard as they both lean over us.

But none of it is important in this moment.

Only Callen's beseeching eyes.

"Use the creator magic," he wheezes, "Save everyone...just not me."

And the edge of his lips curls up in a little sad humor at the comment.

And the light leaks out of his eyes.

His head becomes heavy in my hands.

And tears blur what's left of my vision.

No. This can't be happening—

"Callen—" I try to shake him—to wake him—"Callen?!"

Rainer puts a warning hand on my arm, "Rosabella, he's..."

But not even the burly warrior can say it.

I'll admit, I drop the gray-haired man. I let go and scurry backwards, hugging my knees to my chest in the shadow of The Temple roof overhang—away from his lifeless body. Like, if I move quickly enough, death can't get me too. And Callen pitches forward—

But Joy stops him from faceplanting.

With a swift movement, she breaks off the arrow from his back and turns his body to lay on its back. Her fingers graze over his eyelids, shutting them with a gentleness I didn't know the girl fully possessed. But her face is hard and streaked with pain. I notice, for the first time, the arrow jutting out of her own shoulder.

"Oh my God, Joy!" I reach up to gesture at the arrow, but she shrugs.

"Never remove an arrow from the wound; you might bleed to death," she lectures Dormouse and I swiftly. I glance over and notice the nerd's face is even whiter than the balcony floor. "Rosabella," the pink-haired girl turns swiftly to me, "You need to do something. Use the creator magic. Make it work. There's an army out there on the ridge. I'm a damn good warrior, but I'm not fucking Houdini, and we're gonna need a lot more than a white rabbit to get through this."

I grit my teeth, hoping I can do what she's asking, "Understood."

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"I'll cover your back," Rainer promises both Joy and I, his head swiveling between the both of us.

...And, then, we all look at Dormouse who seems frozen in both fear and uncertainty.

"Nerd," Joy calls shortly, "Do what you do best."

The dark-haired boy nods shortly, ducking as a volley of arrows whooshes overhead again, plinking on the metal roof like the jab of a thousand needles.

"The bridges are the only pedestrian way over from the other side," the geeky boy begins rapidly, "I'll take out them out with my code, but I'm going to need constant concentration—"

Rainer nods, "You got it. Joy, positions."

He draws his bow, tight, lowering to one knee and aiming at the opposing ridge with one eye shut. "We take out anyone who tries to cross the bridges and give Rosabella enough time to figure out the creator magic and fix this," he growls.

Gulp.

Why does this fucking sound familiar?

I have to fix this?

All the weight is on me...again? Being special is getting downright frustrating. I don't even live here! But—then again—I'd rather not end up like Callen today. Oh my gosh, how insensitive am I being right now?

The tears have barely dried on my cheeks even though a night wind is kicking up from the valley. Across it, in the dark night, it looks like the forest on the other side of the chasm is alive—figures darting, the dark silhouettes of trees and bushes, moving. ...And the glinting of metal and skin and death...advancing on us all while the twinkling stars overhead leave little in the way of light to mark our targets.

Why are they coming after us when all we're trying to do is fix The Game?

"Rosabella!"

I spin around. It's Joy's harsh voice, and her expression is harsher as I meet it.

"No deer-in-the-headlights, more creator magic. You'll be the reason we live or die today. Make sure we live," she snarls. The inflection in her voice travels up my arms in goosebumps.

She's right. What am I doing standing here? Bemoaning things? I have to move. I have to fight!

The creator magic.

I wedge myself against the back wall, under the cover of the roof ledge, pressing my back to the firm stone there as another volley of arrows clatters on the metal overhead.

"There's too many of them!" Joy shouts to Rainer over the hailing noise, "We need to focus on the ones in front—"

The panic in her words wants so desperately to seep into me—into my shaking breaths and hands...into the sweat on my forehead and the dryness of my mouth. But I can't let it.

I need to figure out how to harness this creator magic. NOW.

I have to save The Game world and, hopefully, us.

My heartbeat crashes against the inside of my chest repetitively as I carefully close my eyes.

Breathe.

I can do this.

Can I do this?

I push down the utter terror.

And, when I do, a door in my mind stands tall before me...

Brown.

Arched.

And I grab the wrought iron hand and open it.

Quiet.

The world is silent.

No more panicked shouts or war cries. No more zinging arrows just...

...

Still.

Stagnant.

What is this place?

I'm in my bare feet. Grass tickles the exposed soles, poking and prodding like wanting me to move forward. But my eyes flash up from my toes. I blink, turning my head to look around and finding an extensive...garden?

Everything is lush.

Green.

Full.

Ivy climbs up the hedge walls enclosing the space and plush grass stretches ahead like carpet. Mature trees and blossoming flowers crowd the way forward, layering over the paths that seem to be cut through the garden. The sweet scent of buttercups and honeysuckle tickles my nose. This place would be the perfect sanctuary if my mind would allow me to have any.

Because the nagging realization is there again.

I have to figure out how to use my creator magic.

I have to save us all.

Shit.

My feet pick up speed as I brush past lilies sagging with rainwater and ornamental grass.

What is this place, and what am I supposed to find here? The Grand Dragon, before, had told me that the starlike orb was my soul. Maybe I'm looking for something similar here...?

Ouch!

Blinding light suddenly catches my pupils, then, fades, just as quickly. I swivel in the direction it came from to find a purple flower...glowing on a nearby bush...

No, it's holding a star at the very center! Its delicate petals flutter in the wind under the glow.

I move towards it, and I feel the breeze too—it's coming from the star. It blows my hair back from my neck with a warm breeze, and I, suddenly, want nothing more than to touch it. Because, somehow, I know that it will envelop me in warmth.

And I need that warmth; I've been looking for it.

Longing for it my whole life. I need to know if I can have it—if I can feel it here...finally.

I stretch my hand out. My fingertips wobble just above the glowing orb—

And I touch it.

Heat zaps through my skin—up my arms—as the star absorbs into my hand.

And I blink.

And the sound of gurgling, rushing water meets my ears as water droplets splash up onto my hands. I'm standing next to a fountain? The scenery has changed. My eyes take a minute to adjust. I stand in the center of a clearing within the garden—tall hedges, blooming with ivy create an alcove while their colorful cousins fill it, beautiful flowers of every type. I lean against the stone sides of a round, ornate fountain. The water inside is crystal, turquoise blue and copper pennies shine at the bottom, glinting in the sun up above.

But that's not the most startling thing—not the shift in landscape.

Not the fountain.

My heart stops and my breath hitches because, from the other side of the fountain, a girl stares at me.

And that girl...

Well...

She looks exactly like me...