Wildcard (Warcross #2)(21)

“Game! Set! Fight!”

Suddenly, an enormous shadow lands on top of the arch right over us. A web of cracks jolts across the glass with a deafening splinter.

My head jerks up—and I see him there, Zero, on the back of a dragon with scales as black as a rain-soaked raven, its metal spikes shining with edges of dark silver light. His dragon hisses at me, then brings its wings down in one mighty swoop. The glass arch shatters into a thousand pieces.

I throw myself against my dragon’s shoulders and cross my forearms to activate my shield. The circular blue field bursts out from my armguards as glass shards pour down on me. The impact nearly knocks me flat. I flinch as if the weight were real.

[Player B] | Life: -20%



If it weren’t for my shield, a hit like that would have easily slashed my life bar in half. And in a real Warcross game, giving my opponent the advantage of a surprise attack like that before the starting call would be impossible. But here, cheats are commonly written in, sometimes as a game progresses live.

When is Zero going to show me the hack?

A roar from the onlookers fills my ears. I peer up through my shield in time to see Zero leap from the back of his dragon to hurtle down toward mine. He lands on one of its wings, then yanks a sword from his side. He slashes hard into the wing, puncturing the fold, and cuts a deep gash.

My dragon screams—it pitches to one side. The sudden lurch sends me tumbling, forcing me to break my armguard pose. My shield deactivates as I instead grab the edge of one of the beast’s scales and hang on. Below us, other dragons glide in and out between the glass arches, black silhouettes against the evening. A series of glowing power-ups hover above them, golden speed bursts and ice marbles, a sphere of green vines and a fireball.

My mind whirls, gauging the distance between me and each of them. That fireball is a Flamethrower power-up, strong enough to swallow an opponent whole. The sphere wrapped with vines is a Vine Trap, capable of entangling a player for five seconds, immobilizing them on the spot.

I haul myself up along the dragon’s scales. Zero lunges for me—I roll to one side before he can seize the glowing Artifact hanging over my head. He misses it by a bare inch. I roll over and over as he lunges for me again. My hands fumble for the rope at my waist, but then I feel Zero’s hand clamp down on my arm. He pulls me toward him.

I grit my teeth and kick—my metal boots hit him in the chest, and I push off as hard as I can. He loses his grip on me. I fling myself free of both Zero and my dragon, then plummet through the air. Wind screams against my ears.

As I go, I activate my shield again and turn it at an angle. It catches the air, letting me steer myself slightly sideways. I manage to navigate myself toward the fireball and the vine power-ups. I throw both arms wide, grabbing the two power-ups simultaneously.

I look up to see Zero jump from the dragon and follow me down. I pocket the vine power-up, then take the fireball and unleash it, swinging it straight at him.

It explodes with a thunderous roar. Flames engulf both Zero and my injured dragon in a giant blaze.

[Player A] | Life: -100%

[Player B] STRIKES OUT [Player A]



I ignore the cheers and boos from the audience. Zero’s going to regenerate in no time, and with the way this game’s structured, he might have an unfair advantage again. As the wind whistles past my ears, I yank out an arrow strapped to my back holster and frantically knot the rope at my waist to it. I tie the rope’s other end around my chest. Then I fit the arrow to my bow right as I fall like a stone past the entire herd of dragons. I twist, point my bow up at the nearest dragon to me, and shoot.

The arrow hits true, lodging in between two scales on a dragon’s chest. Sparks fly from the burn of the arrowhead’s metal against the scales. The beast lets out a roar of annoyance as the rope pulls taut, yanking me to an abrupt halt with it. I pull myself up as quickly as I can as the dragon veers sharply to one side, narrowly avoiding colliding with a glass arch.

Above me, Zero reappears on the back of his black dragon. Its ice-colored eyes fix on me, and it plunges in my direction just as I swing myself up onto my new dragon’s back. This time, I point my dragon toward the arches.

“Higher,” I snap, urging it up. It obeys, turning its mechanical head where I want it to.

Zero’s dragon hurls toward me, its jaws open. It lets out a column of fire. I pull my dragon to one side, just missing it, but some of the flame catches my dragon’s wing, scorching the metal black. I force it into a tight spiral around the arch’s columns.

“What the hell is she doing?” I can hear a couple of the spectators shouting, their words almost drowned out by the cheers.

Zero gives chase. He steers his dragon to fly sidelong against mine, avoiding the spiraling pattern that I’m doing. He looks ready to pull in close again and jump onto my dragon’s back.

I aim for the gently curving top of the glass arch. As I reach it, Zero nears me. I grab my vine power-up in my inventory. If I can lure Zero closer and set it off on him at the right time, it’ll ensnare him in its tangle of thick vines and freeze him there, hanging from the top of the arch. I can leap off my dragon and slide down the tangle of vines to grab his Artifact.

I glance over my shoulder. He’s drawing closer now, taking the bait. A small smile threatens to creep onto my face. I turn to stare down at the top of the arch. Time to strike—

Then a flash of light hits me. The world washes out into blinding white. Did the game end? Then I realize a split second later that Zero has used his own power-up on me. A lightning strike. I see the top of the glass arch rushing at me as I fall toward it. I hit it full force, without a chance to even pull up my shield.