Free The Invisible Tower by Nils Johnson-Shelton

and Kay hardly said a word. He talked about orchids and gardening and video games, and even carried on a very Dr Pepper–head debate about whether lightsabers were better than phasers.
    They finally got home at eleven that night. Artie ambled out of the car and went to bed. He didn’t wake the next day until almost two in the afternoon.
    He went down to the kitchen, where Kay was studying the swordsmanship manual. Kynder was relaxing in the backyard.
    Artie opened the fridge and stared into it, not sure what he wanted or even if he was hungry. Kay said, “This sword book is nuts. Can I play with Cleomede later on?”
    Artie shut the fridge and turned to his sister. “Sure. It’s in my room. How long you been up?”
    â€œHours. Couldn’t really sleep. Besides all the other weirdness, I couldn’t get that Thumb dude out of my mind.”
    â€œHe’s hard to forget.”
    â€œNo doubt. So are you going to check out the game, like
    Merlin said?”
    â€œI guess so,” Artie answered. The long night of sleep had sapped Artie’s resolve a little. At the moment he didn’t feel like a king of anything.
    Artie sighed, stepped next to his sister, and looked at the swordsmanship book. It was full of illustrations in gold and silver that practically leaped off the page. He turned to his sister and asked, “Kay, are you ready for all this?”
    Her answer was swift. “You know I am.”
    Artie nodded and decided he better get ready again too. He went down to the game room, and started up Otherworld . His character, Nitwit the Gray, was still in Caladirth’s lair. Artie had no idea where to look, so he headed out the main exit of the cave, and there he found something he wasn’t expecting at all.
    Just past the cave opening—which had been in a snowy wood near the Vale of Goch—was an arched, blinking electric sign that read “Welcome to the OTHERWORLD.” Beyond this was a pleasant country road bursting with the colors of late spring, not a snow-covered forest. In the middle of the road stood a suit of plate-mail armor.
    The armor’s metal was as green as Nickelodeon slime, and airbrushed across the breastplate was a bough of holly crossing a battle-ax in front of a large evergreen tree. The visor was up and inside the helmet there was—well, there was nothing.
    Nitwit took a few steps forward, and the suit raised a hand in salute. It spoke in a deep, echoing baritone.
    â€œHello, good sir! My name is Bercilak—though most call me Greenie—and I seek no battle, I assure you truly.” This was good news because Greenie wielded a battle-ax that was twice as menacing-looking as the one Artie’s character had. The armor continued, “As the sign says, I am here to welcome you to the Otherworld! Now, please, to facilitate our meeting, affix your headset and speak through the microphone as if I were a comrade of yours playing this game over your ‘internets.’ Is that right?”
    Artie was thunderstruck, but he did as he was told. When he was ready, he corrected Greenie, “Uh, no, we call it the internet.”
    â€œExcellent! My bad. That is what you say, yes?”
    â€œYeah. That’s right.”
    â€œExcellent again!”
    Artie asked, “How are you doing this? Where did all the snow go?”
    â€œWell, I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about, but I received a message yesterday that you’d be visiting so I hurried over here. This is where I was told to meet you.”
    â€œWho told you? Merli—”
    Greenie raised his hand and shook it violently. The suit of armor rattled and clanked. “Tut-tut! Please, we try not to say that over here! At least, not yet!”
    â€œSo, what, you’re really over there?”
    â€œYes, and you are really over there! If you get my meaning. You know, since I’m here and you’re—”
    â€œYeah. I get it.