They back away toward the table and roll a die, their eyes flicking between Finn and Carter. When the die comes to rest, they tense up and shake their head softly. Next to me, Finn breathes out hard, as though he already knows what’s coming too.
And I smile. I know exactly what to do.
“When the spell is broken, the symbols flare. Feather, you are all but blinded. The others around you instinctively take a step back from the bright blue flash. But you stand directly in the path of the spell.” Ever’s voice fades. They swallow and reach for the three effect dice that are part of their game master’s kit, the dice that they only use when shit is about to go down. “One moment, the rest of you see Feather standing there. Next, as you blink and struggle to regain your vision, there’s only bright light and it flares ever higher—”
“Wait,” I interrupt. I waited for an opportunity like this, to show exactly what I’m worth, and that it happens now, like this, is all the better. “I push Feather out of the way.”
Finn snaps his head toward me. Ever raises their eyebrows. “Are you sure?”
Lente isn’t a magic user or a fighter. She’s weak compared to the others. But that’s not the point, is it? Here, I can be a hero and a villain both, if I want to. After all, we’re all complex and complicated. We are all the exceptions to our own rules.
I know Finn doesn’t trust me to do right by him, but he’s wrong. I’m no monster. I’m as loyal to my friends as they are to me, and I would help him through a rough spot any day. It’s what I’m doing right now. I just don’t care for getting dragged into fights that don’t concern me. I don’t play other people’s games.
“I’m sure. I know what I’m doing.”
Carter and Maddy only stare at me. Ever licks their lips. “Okay…okay.”
I nod at them and purposefully ignore Finn’s uncomfortable shifting next to me. “Don’t worry. What are the chances it’ll go wrong?”
They roll the dice. With three ten-sided dice, there’s only a miniscule chance that all of them will roll a deathly effect.
There’s a collective intake of breath when they do.
Oh.
Ever clears their throat. And again.
Everyone stares at me, and I go hot and cold all at once.
“Lente, you feel the light pass through you. You’ve never been at the receiving end of a flare like this. The light seems to burn through you, through your body, through your bones, through your thoughts. It’s as if you’ve walked into a fire and it consumes you. It gnaws at your edges. It burns into who you thought you were. You scream. You struggle to keep standing—or maybe you’ve fallen already. You don’t know what’s left of the world around you, but you want to curl up and disappear inside yourself.
“Everything slows.
“You feel pain. With every breath and every movement. It’s everywhere. It’s everything. There’s no escaping anymore.
“You hear screaming. It comes from all around.
“Then, nothing.”
Silence.
Ever looks at the others. “The three of you, you see Lente fall. You see the ward go off, fiercer than anything you’ve encountered so far. And your compatriot, your healer—your friend—is devoured. Lente is gone.”
Everything grinds to a halt. I have to try to remember how to breathe. Sure, character deaths have happened. But not on this level, not anymore. We’re more powerful now, and we planned this whole weekend around the game. This…
This wasn’t meant to happen.
“Wait…”
“You mean gone gone?”
“But…”
“She can’t be.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do? Is there a body? Are there any signs of life?”
“She can’t be.”
I open my mouth and close it again.
Well. Frack.
It hurts. I didn’t anticipate how much it would hurt. I knew it was going to happen in some way—I knew I had to say goodbye to Lente this weekend—but I never considered how much it would hurt.
“Liva…” Finn sounds shocked. “I… Sorry? Thank you?”
I wince. A small part of me wants to round on Finn. Tell him: See, I do care. I proved that to you, how much more do you need?
“There must be something we can do,” Carter says. “Pull her body away from the ward. Go back to the council and find a way to revive her. It’s been done before, right? There is magic powerful enough to save her.”
Maddy stares at me, or perhaps she stares straight through me. Her cheeks are flushed. “I don’t know if the council will let us. They’re particular about life-and-death magic. But if you want to, we can try.”
Do I want to? It’s not up to me to decide. And now that the end is here, it feels eerie. I wasn’t ready yet to say goodbye. I’m not ready yet to face that there’s only the real world left now.
Maybe it’s not too late to change my mind. It’s not too late to find another way out.
Except, it is.
Giving up is not an option.
It never has been.
Both Lente and I believe the only way change comes is if you work hard for it. No matter if the people around me understand what we’re doing or not. And I’ll miss her.
The last time we all played together—with Finn there—we moved our way through the marketplace at the end of the day, without the clues we were looking for, when I felt a small hand reach for my pocket. Lente was far from the most dexterous—or even the most observant—character in our group, but through a combination of restlessness and luck of the dice, I caught the girl who tried to rob me.
In real life, I wouldn’t have hesitated to do what must be done. Dad taught me from an early age about the value of fighting for what you’re worth. And the idea of theft makes me sick to my stomach.
But in-game, I hesitated a second longer before turning the girl over to the city guard. Long enough for Finn—Feather—to step in, ask Corrin to hold the girl, walk me out of earshot and suggest we leave her be. He quietly argued the girl was skin and bone, she couldn’t have been older than ten, and what she needed far more than to be chased by the guards was a good meal. Because for all Gonfalon’s good sides, the city wasn’t kind to everyone. “Not everyone can count on wholesome meals every day. Not everyone can count on comfortable beds. Not everyone has access to the council’s healers. Shouldn’t we serve all of the city? Those who can afford it and those who can’t?”
I didn’t think that was fair, and I told him. The magicians and merchants worked hard for their keep.
Feather smiled. “For me, what is fair is to give people equal opportunities and equal chances. The world benefits if we all flourish, but it suffers if even some of us suffer.”
“So what would you like me to do, then?” I asked.
“Let her go. Give her a coin for some food. She needs it far more than you do.”
As Liva, I never would have. It’s not that I don’t support charity—we are charitable at home. I know all too well some people are prone to bad luck, and some are vulnerable and must be protected. But I could not condone crime and living off the hard work of others.
As Lente…I still wasn’t entirely convinced, but Finn was looking at me intently, and out of all of them he might’ve been the only one with a chance at all to convince me. It had been a rough day, and I wanted to go home. “Fine. Do what you must.”
I walked back to the rest of the group and the girl, and nodded at the others. “Let her go.” I took a coin from my purse and flung it at her before she could catch it, so it rolled on the cobblestones at her feet. The girl stared wide-eyed at it.
“Pick it up, then go.”
She moved slowly, and of course, that was when Feather made his move. He pulled another handful of coins from his purse and pushed them into her hands, before picking up the one
I tossed too. “If you need food and work, come to the council. The kitchens are always looking for staff, and I’ll put in a good word for you if you want me to.” Then he pulled a day’s rations from his bag and passed those on too.
When the girl ran off, he turned to me. “Was that so difficult?”
There was something about the way the girl gobbled down part of the food immediately and saved the rest that could convince all sides of me that she needed it.
Lente understood what Feather did. She was always kinder than me—but weaker too.
I’d miss her. I’d miss her uncomplicated worldview.
Now, I glance away from my friends. “I need a moment to myself. I just…need…”
I need to get away from here, from everything I’ve lost.
Nine
Ever
Liva gets up and dusts her hands on her cloak. Without another word, she walks away. Away from the lights of the living room. Into the shadows and toward the rapidly darkening night.
“Liva.”
She stops near the staircase but doesn’t look back.
“Do you want company?”
She hesitates, then shakes her head. “No. Not yet.”
“We’ll figure out a solution,” I say. “Revival. Another character.”
This is not how it was supposed to happen. But throw in some terrible rolls and bad luck, and here we are. And now I have to decide how to go on.
“No…no, thank you.” Liva wraps her arms around her chest. She’s still turned toward the windows and the night outside. She’s so tense and fragmented, like she’s falling apart in the same way as the game. “It’s fitting, I guess. Losing my character here, of all places. I don’t want any of you to bring her back. Not now, not like this. Let it happen.”
I close my eyes. The worst thing is, Liva told me just yesterday that she loved how I ran the game. That it was comfortable. Familiar. Even if she didn’t know where my stories would go, she knew how I approached those stories. She felt safe here.
I failed her. I still feel that way about Zac too, though he quit the game of his own volition after he and Liva broke up. But I hated how much more comfortable—how much more at ease—I was without him there. It made me feel like a terrible friend.
So now I can’t fail the others. Maddy has risen to her feet and leans against the mantle of the fireplace. Carter pushes the effect dice back and forth on the table.
When Liva has left the room, he sighs. “This is it, right? We knew this game would be the hardest one yet. One down…three to go.”
Maddy immediately swings around and glowers at him. “What on earth is wrong with you, C? Why would you say something like that?” She shakes her head wildly, then she stomps out to the porch.
“Hey, not cool,” Finn says softly.
Carter shrugs. “I’m just saying, it’s the truth.”
I pluck the dice from Carter’s hands. “The idea is to end this on a positive note. Not to kill you all.” Still, he has a point. Liva’s character’s death is a stark reminder of how everything can change from one moment to the next. It’s a reminder of how this weekend will bring everything to a close.
Carter stands and moves into the kitchen, ignoring us. Finn and I exchange a look and then follow him through the door.
“The chances this would happen are infinitely small,” Finn argues. “It was bad luck, nothing more.”
“Sure. Maybe the dice are haunted too.” Carter reaches for the cabinet that holds the drinking glasses. For all he tries to make light of the situation, his hands are trembling.
Finn seems about ready to ram his crutches into something. “Oh for the love of—”
“Ouch!” Carter pulls his hand back from the kitchen cabinet and stares at it like it bit him.
I rush over to him. “What happened?”
“The cabinet knob was red hot,” he says, waving his hand around like that will cool it.
Tentatively, I reach out to touch the knob too, but it’s a normal temperature. “Are you sure?”
Carter pushes his hand at me, and there’s a clear red mark on his fingers.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have tempted the ghost,” Finn grumbles.
“Oh for the love of goblins…” Carter starts.
I breathe out hard. I can’t deal with this arguing anymore. Damien was right; I can’t fix everyone’s problems. I still want to make this experience memorable. Just…perhaps not in this way.
“Right,” I say. “We’re taking a ten-minute break, because apparently everyone needs time to cool off. I expect everyone to get their heads back into the game when we reconvene.”
With that, they head back into the living room, and I follow Maddy onto the porch. Maddy’s already in the yard, zigzagging through the trees in the grove and darting away from the shadows, as if they might snap at her. She keeps the weight off her bad leg. She doesn’t stop until she comes to a place at the trees’ edge.
I move down to where she’s stopped, and the whole world blinks into existence. The first stars are appearing in the dark night sky, the sliver of the moon rising into it. The mountains loom on the horizon, with the light pollution glow of the city filling the valley beneath us.
Wow.
“It used to be my favorite place,” Maddy says. I didn’t realize she’d noticed my presence; I must’ve gasped at the sight.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Nah.” She sinks slowly to the ground, which is still covered in pine needles from last year’s fall. She wraps her arms around her knees and rocks back and forth. “I needed a breather.”
“We all do. But I think you found the border between Gonfalon and Flagstaff.”
“Yeah.” She doesn’t sound like she necessarily appreciates it.
I kneel next to her and stare out at the mountains. “So, while Finn and Carter are fighting about ghosts… Who are you angry at?”
Maddy goes as prickly and untouchable as a hedgehog. “The dice. Carter, for being absolutely insufferable. And myself, most of all. I was so sloppy. I messed up there.”
“You did.” I could tell her she didn’t, but what would be the point of that? If she had been paying attention, Liva’s character would still be alive. “But it wasn’t just you.”
“Does that matter?”
“Did you do it on purpose?” I ask, point-blank.
Maddy sniffs. Her jaw sets. “Of course not. Doesn’t mean I’m not responsible.” She shakes her head violently. “I need to be better. Anger isn’t going to stop me from feeling terrible.”
I take a chance. Maddy appreciates directness. “Good.”
She glances up at me, confused.
I half shrug and keep my voice level. “This is how we gain experience, both in this game and in life. We win some battles. We lose others. We learn and we keep going.”
“I hate that life has gotten so complicated.”
I smile. “I’m not sure it was ever uncomplicated.”
Maddy shrugs. “I don’t know. It was, at least, less complicated. It feels like everything is falling to pieces. And I don’t know who I am without this game. I don’t know where I can find other safe spaces that let me be myself.”
She curls up. I can see her mouth work. I can see all the things she doesn’t say yet or doesn’t know how to say yet.
“It’s hard, isn’t it? Trusting others with the whole of you?”
She smiles bitterly and shakes her head. “It’s so much easier to lie. You know that. You lie too.”
“I…” No, I don’t, I want to say. Out of habit. But Maddy’s eerily observant. She once said she taught herself to be as fluent as possible in all the things people don’t say, and it shows.
And she’s right. “Yeah, I do.”
“So what do you lie about?”
The question is so s
traightforward, I can’t help but answer. “I lie about being okay.”
She nods. “Yeah, me too.”
I lie about the game too, though I can hardly tell her that. I lie about how much it means to me.
It’s everything.
Most of us have enough to struggle with. The real world is bleak. But in Gonfalon, we can be ourselves without any limitations, fully the way we imagine ourselves. I worked hard to create a space that embraces joy and sorrow. Fear and courage. Everything that makes all of us real, and we encourage each other to explore it all. To talk about it all, no matter how scary. Here, everything is possible.
And that is the biggest lie of all.
I don’t just want to make the game good for them; I want to stay here and never go back.
I reach out and place my hand over Maddy’s. Carefully. Slow enough to give her time to withdraw. “I won’t lie about this: You can trust me. As long as I can, as long as you need me, I’ll be here.”
She narrows her eyes and I wonder if she sees straight through me. She sniffs again. “Yeah.”
It’s the truth. I’m not going anywhere. Because even though I can imagine whole universes and make plans, reality always comes back to bite you. And some things are more important than following nebulous dreams. I’ll make sure Elle has everything she needs, so one of us can succeed. She won’t go hungry or be constantly tired. I’ll make sure Dad doesn’t have to worry about our ramshackle house. The bills will be paid on time, and he and I won’t go hungry either.
And maybe when all of that is done, I’ll figure out a way to build new worlds.
Until then…
“Let’s go back to the rest of the group,” I say. “We need to return to the game and figure out a way out of this mess.”
I scramble to my feet and offer Maddy a hand. As she grabs it, loud, high-pitched laughter tears through the relative quiet. Maddy yelps. The sound comes from everywhere. It echoes off the mountain. It closes in and wanders off. It rises and falls, sharp enough to cut.
Then another voice joins in. Another. And another.
Even If We Break Page 7