Quinn slammed into the stone wall and spun as the cage door swung shut behind her with a dry, metallic click. She lunged forward, grabbing the bars and rattling them.

  “Come back, you little shit!”

  Her captor didn’t come back. He glanced over his shoulder, smirking as he walked away.

  Quinn scowled. She pulled up her inventory and tried to equip her lockpick set. Once again it wouldn’t budge.

  “Hells!”

  She kicked the door. Pain shot through her toe, making her stumble back and swear louder. Grinding her teeth, she took a deep breath and managed not to kick it again, but it was a close thing.

  “It’s no use, baby,” a voice said behind her.

  Quinn whirled. An elderly woman stood a few steps away inside the cage, her dark skin set against short white curls. Deep lines framed her brown eyes as she studied Quinn.

  “They’ve gone and sealed it up tighter than a man’s pride,” she continued.

  “Who are you?”

  “Prisoner, same as you by the looks of it,” she replied, smiling sadly. “Name’s Loretta.”

  Quinn didn’t give her name. Instead, she ignored her and scanned the room, searching for anything that could help her escape.

  Like the arena, the space was vast and built entirely of stone. Metal cages stood in lines down the middle like aisles. Many were occupied, with most of the inhabitants staring at Quinn with open curiosity.

  “Looks like someone gave you a right nasty thump,” Loretta said.

  “What?” Quinn asked distractedly, feeling the spot on her temple where she’d been knocked out. A large, tender knot met her fingers. “Oh, that…it’s fine.”

  “I can patch you up, if you’d like.”

  Quinn eyed her mistrustfully. “Listen, lady. I don’t know you. I’m not in the habit of letting people prod me however they want.”

  Loretta shrugged. “Sure did let whoever did that poke at ya. But suit yourself. No skin off my back either way.”

  Quinn hesitated, deliberating. It really did hurt a lot. Besides, letting her heal it might also give some insight into what she could do, which would be useful.

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  Loretta calmly held her hand out and walked toward her. Quinn instantly backed away, her back hitting the metal bars.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Gotta make physical contact for it to work. Stop your squirming now, I ain’t gonna bite you.”

  With great difficulty, Quinn held still as she approached and laid her hands on her cheek. They were soft and cool against Quinn’s skin. Loretta closed her eyes and stood there touching Quinn’s cheek and making her feel thoroughly uncomfortable. Fortunately, her discomfort was short-lived.

  “All done,” Loretta said brightly, opening her eyes. “You should be right as rain now.”

  Quinn felt her forehead. The lump was completely gone along with her throbbing headache.

  “Thanks,” she said, genuinely surprised. She cleared her throat and looked around the room again. “So, uh…do you know where we are?”

  “Colosseum,” said a man across from them, cutting in before Loretta could answer. He was tall and thin, with dark skin and short, curly hair that rippled across his head like waves.

  “What the fuck is that, some kind of cheese?” Quinn asked. “And who are you?”

  “I’m Kaelin,” he said. “The Colosseum is a famous historical structure from ancient Rome. In fact,” he continued, brightening, “it was an incredible feat of design and engineering for its time. Did you know they once flooded it to stage an actual sea battle? In addition—”

  “Can you not? She doesn’t want your lecture,” said a girl in the cell beside him, rolling her eyes. She looked at Quinn. “I’m Madison. If you ever call me Maddy, I’ll rip your eyes out and eat them with Jell-O.”

  She smiled sweetly and mimed scooping Quinn’s eyes out with a spoon.

  “Ignore her,” said the girl with Kaelin, flipping her wavy blonde hair over her shoulder as she turned toward Quinn. She looked wildly out of place. Her pink dress was covered in flowers, making her look like she should be in a nail salon instead of a creepy dungeon.

  “I’m Bri. Welcome to Camp Murder!” she said, giggling. “That’s what we’re calling it, on account of all the crows flapping about. Get it?”

  “I’m the one who told you that,” Madison said flatly. She looked as different from Bri as coal is to satin. Her outfit was entirely black. The only color on her was a red ribbon tying her black hair back in a ponytail. “Way to be original.”

  “It’s a compliment,” Bri pouted. “I wasn’t stealing it! We’ve just…adopted it!”

  They continued squabbling as Quinn stared between them, momentarily dumbfounded.

  Unless she was mistaken, they were all in some serious shit. Joking about Camp Murder didn’t seem like it would help get them out of it. None of them seemed especially concerned about the lunatic demon they apparently had to fight tomorrow.

  As she continued trying to think of something—anything—that might help her get out of this mess, she remembered the notification that had popped up earlier. She eagerly pulled it up, hoping it might offer some clue.

  Of all the useless things Quinn could think of, nothing came close to how utterly unhelpful that was. Even her parents had fed her sometimes, if only out of boredom.

  She clenched her fists and swiped the notification closed.

  “Anyone else have a quest to get out of here?” she asked, cutting Madison off, who shot her an irritated look.

  “I do,” said a boy in the corner. “My name’s Min. You haven’t given us yours yet.”

  “Nobody asked.”

  Madison gave her the kind of look that made plants wither. “Seriously?”

  “My name’s Quinn, ok? Hands up—who else got a quest to get out of here?”

  Everyone raised their hand except for a small girl hunched in the far corner of a distant cell. Quinn recognized her immediately as the girl who’d won the arena fight earlier. She was squatting on the ground and pushing rocks around, completely oblivious to the rest of them.

  “Right,” Quinn said, tearing her gaze away. “So that tells me it must be possible to escape.”

  Kaelin pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, frowning slightly. “I…didn’t think of that.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” said Bri. “What makes you say that?”

  “Have you ever gotten a quest in a game you couldn’t complete somehow, even if it was hard?” Kaelin asked.

  Bri thought for a moment then shook her head. “Now that you mention it, I don’t think I have.”

  “Great, so we all agree,” Quinn said, looking around at them. “How about we stop wasting time bickering and start figuring out a plan? Or am I the only fucking sane person here who wants to live?”

  “How are we supposed to plan?” Madison said hotly. “Nobody knows what’s going on. The quest just says some demon wants to eat us or something.”

  “Yeah,” said a timid-looking boy. “For all we know, the people who left earlier did escape. She’s the only one who came back, and she won’t tell us what’s going on.” He pointed at the ragged girl in the corner.

  “Nobody’s seen what happens up there?” Quinn asked, taken aback. Everyone shook their heads.

  “Hells.” She exhaled sharply. “Well, I can tell you they most certainly did not escape. I just watched all those people die horribly. And if we don’t want the same thing to happen to us, I say our best chance is to figure this out together.”

  She glared at them, daring someone to object. When nobody did, she continued.

  “Let’s vote. Who wants to work together?”

  Slowly, one by one, hands went up. The girl in the corner glanced over but didn’t raise her hand.

  Quinn counted. There were twelve people total, including herself and the girl.

  “Right, then.” She cleared her throat. “Let me get everyone’s name. Then I’ll tell you what I saw.”

  “Who elected you leader?” Madison sneered.

  “You did,” Quinn said, “by caring more about your cute little Camp Murder than surviving.” Madison glared at her but did not respond.

  “Anyone else have a problem with me?”

  A large, beefy man in the corner stood, his broad shoulders brushing the sides of his cage.

  “You’re leader,” he said simply. “I’m Carlos.”

  He looked pointedly at the timid boy across from him who caught his eye and quickly looked away.

  “Lucas,” he mumbled.

  “Mary,” said the woman beside him in a frilly green shirt.

  The remaining two players were Dario and Lorenzo, lanky, athletic-looking twins.

  Quinn told them about the fight she’d witnessed with the demon. She went into painstaking detail, describing each ability Orcus had used, his whip-like chains and immense speed. When she reached the part about the dead girl reanimating, the group collectively stiffened, their faces grimacing in horror. Madison, on the contrary, looked fascinated.

  “So try not to die, ok?” Quinn said. “Nobody’s got time for that.”

  She glanced at the girl in the corner and, a little louder than necessary, explained how she’d manipulated Orcus into killing the other players instead. The girl looked at her and smiled wickedly, revealing sharp, pointed teeth.

  “People were using abilities in the fight,” Quinn continued. “I saw someone pull a stone wall straight out of the ground. So even if our inventories are locked, we aren’t without some way to fight back. Why don’t we share our archetype and ability?”

  When no one spoke, Quinn rolled her eyes. “I’ll go first,” she said. “My archetype is Deceit and my ability is Shadow Step. I can move undetected for a short time, as long as I don’t rush.”

  “What good’s that?” Madison asked in a bored voice. “And no offense, but why should we trust anyone who picked Deceit?”

  Quinn bit back the urge to call her Maddy.

  Instead, she replied evenly, “It may not be useful. Or it could be critical. We won’t know until we understand all the pieces.”

  “I agree,” Kaelin said quickly. “My archetype is Logic. I can target something to reveal its information—resistances, vulnerabilities, that sort of thing. Anything the system treats as factual. The data gets stored in my Lore without first needing to defeat it or build trust. It’s called Parse.”

  His face lit up. “I once parsed a faun and learned she was a seamstress. Do you know how much skill goes into sewing? I had no idea!”

  “Really?” Bri said, fingering her dress. “Wow! Do you remember her name? I have all kinds of questions, like—”

  Carlos loudly cleared his throat, cutting her off. “My ability’s Bloodweight, archetype Vitality,” he said gruffly. “I stack damage to deal a powerful attack. Though, it doesn’t negate all damage.”

  “Useful,” Quinn said. “Like a tank.” He nodded.

  “My father used to drive tanks,” Lucas piped in. “He was in the military. I think he thought they were really intimidating or something.” He looked at Carlos and shuddered slightly.

  “Well, I think they’re violent,” Mary said stiffly, “but better on our side. My archetype is Artisanal. I can shape earth into different forms. I’d bet the player you saw pull the wall out of the ground could do the same thing.”

  “I’m Artisanal too!” Lucas said brightly. “My ability’s called Quick Fix. It’s similar, but instead of shaping materials, I make a functional tool based on the situation I’m in.”

  “Seriously?” Quinn said excitedly. “Can you try it now?”

  “Yeah! Sure—uh.” His smile faltered as he realized everyone was staring at him. Color slowly crept up his neck. He swallowed and closed his eyes, drawing his shoulders in. A thick metal bar abruptly appeared in his hands.

  “Wow!” he said, snapping his eyes open. “I’ve never gotten this before. That’s—wow. Okay.”

  He glanced around the cell. “What do I do with it?”

  “Try wedging it between the bars, like this,” Quinn said, using her arm to demonstrate.

  Lucas did, bracing himself and pulling back with all his strength. The bars of the cage didn’t bend in the slightest.

  “That didn’t work,” Lucas said, panting slightly. “Maybe my ability’s a dud.”

  “No, it’s not,” Bri said kindly. “The cages are just reinforced somehow. It’s not your fault.”

  The hope that had briefly flared inside Quinn died just as quickly. She swallowed the disappointment before it could show and turned to Bri.

  “How about you?” she asked.

  “Me? I’m Decay!” she said enthusiastically. “My ability’s called Wither. I can make things rot really, really fast.”

  She tilted her head, noticing everyone staring at her. “What?”

  “You’re Decay?” Madison asked incredulously. “What made you pick that?”

  “I don’t know. I think it’s cute.”

  Madison stared at her, mouth slightly open. “I can’t think of anything less cute,” she said once she’d recovered. “Literally.”

  Bri sniffed. “You’re entitled to your opinion, of course. Just like me.”

  “Did you ever use Parse on Orcus?” Quinn asked Kaelin loudly, cutting in before they could start arguing again.

  He shook his head. “I haven’t seen him yet. I need line of sight to use it.”

  Quinn exhaled slowly, frustration tightening her chest.

  “However,” he added thoughtfully. “I do know quite a bit about the ancient Roman god Orcus. And from what you’ve described, he lines up with the historical version.”

  “Really,” Quinn said eagerly. “How?”

  “He was the god of the underworld and ruler of the dead. So, it makes sense he could reanimate a corpse. Though mainly, Orcus was known for punishing those who broke their oath.”

  Quinn nodded, turning over the information. She thought back to what Silas had told her, what felt like ages ago now.

  “Every enemy has a weakness. You just have to figure it out.”

  Her mind slid back to the arena, replaying everything Crow had said. He was so proud, casually bragging about helping the elves capture Orcus. Orcus, who had gone strangely still and attentive when Crow spoke.

  Quinn inhaled sharply.

  “I know what to do,” she said, something fierce kindling behind her eyes. “But it’ll take all of us. Including her.” She pointed at the wild girl in the corner who bared her teeth.

  “What do you know,” Quinn asked, turning to look at Kaelin, “about binding a god?”