Rue was seven at the time and deeply unhappy. Only her father had ever truly understood that. Some days, she misses that man, the one who’d hold her hand when she was sad and kissed her knee if she scraped it in a fall. Days like today, she misses his steadiness when people like Priti send her spiralling down into pits of utter uncertainty and fear. She’s never shown anyone her rooms before. The servants have seen, of course, but they do not count. Rue feels a pang of guilt about that. Their servants are people too, just like her. Just like Mrs Krombel and just like Priti. More like Priti than her, in truth, at least for the moment. She’d probably not take kindly to the thought. Ghost wouldn’t have. But her friend isn’t there. Rue has always tried her best to follow her friend’s example. But it has always been hard and she never feels like she’s good at it and now…
Rue pauses in the hall and ponders asking Priti to leave. Rue is not fit company today, any day. She needs to leave and find Ghost. She needs to learn how to treat people like people, regardless of who they are. Not that she’s had much practice. She needs her friend. But all she has is someone who might become a friend if she doesn’t mess things up.
So, instead of asking Priti to leave, Rue points at one of the paintings on the wall. It’s a reproduction, which Rue is quick to point out. They’re all reproductions, all along the hall, but this one is a reproduction of a painting stored safely in the vault. The original is one of the few not lost or destroyed centuries ago.
Rue’s not supposed to tell anyone it is a reproduction. It is an illusion, as much fiction as their schoolwork. There may be other reproductions in other great houses, but theirs is supposed to be real. It is the only polite thing to do, to let everyone have their supposed-originals and their dignity, never knowing who is lying about what. Rue has never understood that dignity.
She does, however, know where to find pleasure and it is a masterful reproduction. Priti is standing beside her, quite still, and staring. The hall is a little dim, as the lights are only turned on properly if there are distinguished visitors coming, but Rue can still see the glow on Priti’s cheeks.
“It’s beautiful,” the other girl whispers, hoarse, and Rue suggests she touch it, quietly delighted when that gets a gasp and a shake of the head.
Rue reaches out to run her hand across the canvas. It’s made with oils, created by the finest forger alive to resemble the original as much as possible. The smoothness of the paint always surprises her. It’s a forest landscape and she always expects the shadows to be rougher, harsher. It was Ghost who encouraged her to touch it, who looked at Rue’s love for arts and crafts and said ‘Feel’. Ghost has always encouraged her to bend the rules, just a little, just to show that they can, indeed, be broken without the world coming to an end. (Rue has always maintained that Ghost has never met Amaranth. Which is true, in a way.)
Thinking about her friend brings a lump to Rue’s throat and her hand trembles a little with the effort of not snatching it away. She shifts uncomfortably from one foot onto the other. She doesn’t know what Priti’s plan is, whether Priti even has one, what she’s told Priti her plan is. Rue has forgotten entirely, and she just wants to run far, far away and never deal with people again. Find herself a nice oubliette to throw herself in like the hermits of old used to do. Taking a deep breath, Rue slips her hand around Priti’s and tugs on it.
Almost meekly, the other girl follows. Five, maybe six paintings later, Rue realises she’s still holding Priti’s hand and lets go. It is, was, warm and real like Mrs Krombel’s hand. Like her father’s when he still took her by the hand.
Ghost doesn’t have hands to hold onto. They’ve tried a few times, when Rue was too upset, but they feel like nothing, like air. Ghost would, she’s certain, tell Rue to chance it. Take the risk and confide in Priti, see if the other girl has ideas on what to do. Actually, Rue isn’t certain of that at all, but she’d like to think so. She’d like not to be alone, have someone else have to figure out what to do.
It would help her to confide in Priti, she thinks. If Rue can confide in Priti, then Priti may help her find her friend, and spending time getting to know this other girl and becoming friends is a good and acceptable thing. Nothing to feel bad about. Nothing to feel guilty about. She tries to bury her fears where not even she can see it. Ghost would feel terrible to see Rue struggle like this over finally meeting someone else who might become a friend. Rue knows what friendship is, what it looks like. She’s had a friend all her known life. But she is unsure, as she walks beside Priti, quite how to start a friendship.
Friendship. She can still only just feel Ghost at the edge of her mind, a soft pressure that’s always been there. Rue doesn’t remember how she and Ghost met. They’ve always been friends. She does not recall reading stories about how to meet friends. She does not know what to do, but she is trying so so hard to do something anyway. Attempts count, right?
“Are you all right?” Priti asks. Startled, Rue stumbles a pace to the side, into a potted synth-plant. Priti squeaks and is there to steady the plant, rare-looking thing that it undoubtedly is.
Rue can feel her fears clawing at her heart and throat as she tries to push them down with air. It is not so bad this time, though. It is manageable. Rue knows her own home. Besides, Priti has seen worse and been nothing but kind. Utterly unlike Amaranth and even Mrs Krombel. Ghost would have wanted to discuss her anxiety, but Priti seems to just accept it for what it is. It almost makes Rue dizzy with a feeling of safety to see Priti stand there so calmly, concerned frown on her face and still trusting Rue.
Perhaps that is why Rue wants to tell Priti about her missing friend so badly. That and Priti may have ideas that Rue does not have, would not even dream of, because Rue is so sheltered and Priti is not. Rue knows it. She’s never had to think about something as small as what shoes to wear if you go walking for long periods, but Priti thought of it within minutes. Priti hasn’t had people to think about such things for her. It makes Rue feel utterly ashamed of herself. But she says nothing. She couldn’t even if she wanted to.
Slowly the anxiety settles back in Rue’s stomach. It does not stay settled for long, but these are butterfly nerves. The kind that Rue had when she made her father and mother a gift. All by herself. All her own work. What Amaranth did with hers, Rue doesn’t know, but her father’s is still in his study. Funny, the things you remember, she tells herself, but she lets the memory carry her all the way down the rest of the hall as she leads Priti to her rooms.
18
RUE CLOSES THE door as Priti wanders about. She doesn’t look as impressed as Rue assumed she would. Perhaps their time at the Academy has taught Priti what to expect, but Rue finds herself a little disappointed. She’d hoped to impress the other girl. Rue does manage to ask Priti whether she minds if Rue gets cleaned up and changed, promises it won’t take long. It may, of course, compared to what Priti is used to, but Rue hopes that won’t matter. Even Rue can tell that, while not impressed Priti doesn’t look comfortable either, so she gives Priti permission to explore everything and vanishes off into the bathroom. She locks it. She’s not that confident. But she’s confident enough to take a quick shower and to dry herself off and put on something clean.
She’s picked some of her most unadorned clothes. Amaranth is not particularly keen on them, but Mrs Krombel insisted that Rue needs something comfortable to wear and so they have stayed. When it comes to Rue’s everyday clothing, Mrs Krombel has almost always won somehow, thankfully. Rue’s mother does realise the value of having durable clothes rather than flimsy things that need to be mended because a single misstep will tear them. Amaranth simply does not like it.
As Rue wanders out of the bathroom, she finds Priti sitting on the very edge of her bed. The other girl is sitting there like everything is going to be destroyed if she reaches out and touches it. Or like security will burst in and take her away for breathing on something.
Rue struggles to say… She doesn’t even know what to say. She’s just confused. S
he likes Priti sitting there on the edge of her bed, real enough to touch if Rue dared and was allowed. Does she want that? Is she staring? Why?
“Sorry,” she mutters and Priti turns to face her. The other girl shrugs and Rue mentally cringes against the wall. Did she do something wrong? Should she have stayed with Priti? But she was such a mess! “I’m… I’m not used to visitors.” Rue feels pathetic for admitting it, wrings her hands behind her back as she speaks because it’s better than nothing and she can’t bite her lip or have another panic attack. She can’t.
“You have a nice room.”
“Thank you.” Rue feels awkward. She’s certain she looks awkward. “Now what?” she asks, but she’s doubled-up with a stabbing pain inside her head before Priti can respond. Her entire vision is blocked out with pain, dark circles of it everywhere, and she can feel them coming from Ghost, so far far away. And it hurts, even with Priti right there to sit her down and fetch her a drink and offer soothing words until Rue can see again. She’s clutching the glass and breathing unevenly, but she tries to focus on Priti’s face. Drowning lake eyes, algae-murky eyes. Rue can feel Ghost now, painfully so. She can find her friend now. She just needs to get out of the house.
“I need to get out,” she whispers, hoarse. And then, taking the chance, “There’s someone I need to find. Out there.”
“I’ll help.”
And Rue does not know why, but she is grateful. Numbly, she points Priti at the wardrobe when asked where it is. And why does she need to know? Rue watches as Priti (no, two Pritis) stands very still, just for a moment, before rummaging through the carefully hung dresses and the precisely folded shirts and skirts.
“What are you doing?” Rue asks, feeling wobbly. She’s sitting on a bed, she knows, and there is nothing wobbling but her senses and the way the pain is pushing itself towards her. I’m sorry, she thinks at Ghost as she pushes back. She can’t focus. Needs to focus. It’s important. She has to be able to pay attention to Priti. She has to.
“Trying to find you something to wear,” the Pritis say. Rue blinks a few times before understanding why Priti is saying anything. Her vision clears too and there’s just the one Priti left, running her hand over a green silk skirt that’s on the top of the pile. “You can’t go out in this.”
Rue has never liked the clothes Amaranth chose, but she can still feel anger bubbling just below her surface. “Why not?” she asks, and startles herself. She’s never said anything with such a rough voice before. Not unless she was sick. Priti doesn’t appear to notice anything, though, and just shakes the skirt out for Rue to see.
“Look at it.” Rue doesn’t understand and frowns. Priti runs a hand down the fabric. There’s a green dress in her wardrobe that would go well with Priti’s eyes. There isn’t time, Rue’s heart hammers in her chest. There is no time for pretty clothes and playing dress-up.
“Oh,” she says. Because Priti is telling her why skirts are not practical. It makes Rue feel stupid. Even though Priti focuses on practicalities such as the ability to move quickly and run rather than the best fit to show off a particular body, it sounds too similar to Amaranth. Rue has never tried to look at clothes at all. She’s never thought much about them until Priti made her wear too-large boots because her slippers were in tatters. “Our sports’ shoes.” Rue isn’t certain why she’s just said that until Priti’s face lights up. Because those are sturdy shoes. Of course.
“Our sports clothing,” Priti says, folding the skirt carefully. “It’s not perfect, but it’s certainly better than these.” She trails her hand over the fabric in the pile as she steps away. Rue is sorely tempted to offer her a dress, but it would have to be altered to fit if nothing else, so she hurries off to find another tracksuit. She feels a little wavery at first, but that soon settles. She probably got up too fast.
After a minute or two, she manages to find her Academy tracksuit on top of her travelling case. It’s already been cleaned. Snatching it to her chest, Rue runs into the bathroom. She doesn’t lock the door this time, isn’t even sure it slid properly closed, but her head has started throbbing again. She doesn’t know how much time she has before the pain will hit again, if it’ll hit again. Rue doesn’t know how Priti plans to get them out of the house, how much time Ghost has before things go horribly, permanently wrong.
So Rue hurries and if her clothes are damaged… She’ll worry about Amaranth later, if Amaranth even finds out. Rue just wants this all to be over with, to get her friend back and return to her old life. Hiding away in her rooms, burying her head under the pillows, has never been more appealing than it has today when there’s a near-stranger in her home. Even if that near-stranger is a classmate she thinks she could be friends with.
When she’s dressed, Rue comes into the main room. Priti has seated herself on the bed again. Well. It’s more like gingerly perching. And Rue has a brief moment to wonder why the girl doesn’t sit in one of the chairs. “They’re not going to let me leave,” Rue says. She can barely hear her own voice, but Priti must have heard her anyway. She answers.
“Yes, they will. We’ve just got to get you a good reason to leave. Or we need to sneak out.”
Rue almost squeaks, and is grateful she’s managed to keep the sound to herself. It’s what she did yesterday, yes, but… The cameras would know, for a start. She’d forgotten that the day before. Small wonder everyone had been so furious. “All right…” She isn’t sure of this. She isn’t sure of Priti as they head downstairs to find Mrs Krombel. Rue fidgets as she walks, twirling a curly lock around her fingers and pondering whether she should let Priti handle everything for her. She would love nothing more, but it would be cruel. And it is not Priti’s friend who’s in need. It’s hers. And she will be there for Ghost the way her friend has always been there for her. Even though Rue would rather not. Even though she wants anything but.
They find Mrs Krombel in a small drawing room. As they enter, Mrs Krombel hides the book she’d been reading under a pillow. Unsure what to do, Rue lets Priti lead, lets the other girl charm Mrs Krombel into allowing Rue out to go shopping for theatrical supplies on her own, with Priti.
Rue will have to join the drama club after their vacation now. Perhaps she can work behind the scenes. Theatres need help there, don’t they? She hopes so. So much. But, Rue has to admit, that Priti is a marvel. Rue is trying to pay attention. Truly she is, but she’s also trying to keep her head from imploding on her. Mrs Krombel is never going to let her leave if she collapses onto the floor and she needs to know what Priti is saying.
Rue has never lied to Mrs Krombel before and she doesn’t know what will happen if the lie is discovered. And she feels bad. She’s never spoken much about Ghost, but that wasn’t lying. That was just convenient omission. This… What Priti is doing is outright lying and Rue doesn’t like it. She wants to tell Mrs Krombel everything, right now, but she’d ruin her chances of leaving the house and she’d undoubtedly bring shame, even more shame, onto her family than she already does by being herself.
But Priti is still talking about the theatre and acting and how Rue can’t because she has no understanding of people. Rue knows the latter is true, but she would never have thought it something to mention to Mrs Krombel. Mrs Krombel knows her, after all. Surely she knows that. Yet Priti has managed to make the words magical somehow, because they work.
“You take good care of her now,” Mrs Krombel is saying while Rue stares at them both. They shake hands, weathered ebony enclosing soft gold. “She doesn’t shop much.”
“We’ll be careful, I promise.”
Mrs Krombel leaves and Priti tugs Rue along in pursuit. They’re a party of three all the way to the front gate and, this time, Rue doesn’t have a panic attack as she walks along the driveway. She’s not alone. Mrs Krombel is right in front of her, and Priti is walking beside her. Rue’s allowed to walk to the gate and leave it, on foot. Shoes. She hasn’t had a chance to fetch Priti’s boots, but Mrs Krombel would notice if Rue left to fetch them. They
’ll have to wait.
When they get to the gate, Mrs Krombel has to enter her own keycode to open it; Rue’s is still locked. Mrs Krombel makes sure that both Rue and Priti have a way to communicate with her if they need anything. She insists that Priti stay for supper when they’re back. Not the one that Rue has with her parents, but the one she shares with Mrs Krombel. Amaranth would never allow Priti at their table, and, if she did, Rue doesn’t think Priti would be comfortable.
Priti waves at Mrs Krombel as they walk onto the street. Rue, tentatively, does too. Mrs Krombel waves back and it makes Rue’s stomach all queasy. It’s Priti who leads them back to the park, though that’s as much because it would seem strange to take over now as it is because Rue’s trying to coax the headache that Ghost was giving her back a little. Priti leads them to a bench in the park. When she’s seated, she asks, “Now what?”
Rue settles beside her, silent, and rests her head against her knees. “Now we wait until I know where to go,” she says. “I’ll get your shoes back as soon as possible. I couldn’t get them before you arrived.”
“It’s all right.”
But Rue suspects it isn’t and she decides that she’ll get a present to go with the shoes, to thank Priti for all her help. Then she puts that out of her mind for the time being. She’s got more important things to focus on.
19
AFTER RUE HAS managed to focus on the ache just beside her head, they spend most of the day chasing down ways to get to where Rue’s friend is located. She hasn’t thought how to explain and Priti seems content to just follow her along without asking questions. But even Priti has almost got to a point where they’re lost and that’s made her convince Rue to go back and buy a map. A paper one, so they’ll know where they are without using Rue’s phone-pad. They have a pen for Priti to mark their way as well, though it slows them down and that makes Rue anxious. More anxious than she already is underneath the throbbing headache.
Courage Is the Price Page 7