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.
The cackling laughter morphs to howling as a pack of coyotes announces their hunt. Maddy mutters passionately, “I hate the outdoors.”
“Same.” I squeeze her hand, and we drag each other back to the cabin.
But the laughter and howling follow us—and on this haunted mountain, trapped in the shadows, I can’t help but think it sounds like the screams of the dying.
Lente’s death cements that this place is far more dangerous than you all anticipated. There are secrets here. There are traps that could easily kill you.
And as night falls at this lonely castle, far from the world, you cannot help but wonder what is next. Instead of finding answers, you’ve only found more questions: If Councilwoman Yester consorted with rogue mages, it makes no sense for them to have killed her. If not them, then who? If it was someone from the council, why would they have sent you there?
Over the last few years, you’ve always trusted the council implicitly. You never had cause to doubt them. Now there’s a little voice in the back of your head that whispers you can’t trust anyone’s motivations. If Joanna Yester turned to the side of the lawless, anyone could have. Any one of you could have.
You’re stuck here, in a lonely castle, and you’re a prime target.
Ten
Carter
We’re back to playing the game, and the coins burn a hole in my purse like how the kitchen cabinet burned me. (And what was that? I don’t believe in ghosts. I can’t believe in ghosts. But something is weird about this cabin.) Break the rules. Lose the game. I keep thinking about what my character Corrin would do. He would carry the coins around for days, but ultimately hand them over to the magisterium. I would take them and happily spend them.
Because we jumped immediately into the investigation of Joanna’s death, I haven’t been able to turn them in yet. But if it’s ever necessary to use them, I don’t think I’d hesitate. Truth is, so far, I’m doing fine without the extra coins. I’m still standing, aren’t I? That’s more than can be said for some.
Seriously, I can’t believe I outlasted Liva. Out of everyone.
I can’t say I mind it.
Everyone is struggling. We’re still standing at the same door—the kitchen door turned into the door for Joanna’s atelier—and we haven’t found our way in yet. Moments like these, I miss Zac’s character Zilver. He would’ve charged ahead, consequences be damned. He would’ve laughed at our worries. We’re too scared for that.
Maybe I should use the coins to help us. It wouldn’t be the first time I helped myself to something I didn’t earn. My stomach clenches—not with guilt, really, because I don’t feel guilty about it. I may not have earned it, but I deserved it. My eyes dart to my friends around me. No, what I’m feeling is anxiety. Does one of them know?
It couldn’t have been Liva who put the coins in my purse. If she knew what I did—what I’m doing—she would’ve gone straight to her father. She tolerates me well enough here and at school, but has resented me ever since I started working for their company. Like I’m trying to steal her job away from her. Like I ever could. I wish it were that easy. I wish she’d have to learn what it felt like not to have everything handed to you. No, she would’ve delighted in getting me fired.
Which leads me to Maddy. She knows. But she would hardly…what? Threaten to expose me? She’s too dependent on me right now. If I didn’t break the rules, we both would’ve lost ages ago. And I’d like to think I mean more to her. We play hard and we fight hard, but she’s the only one I more or less trust.
I glance at Ever and Finn.
Ever catches my
