“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
