The first time we walked around the con until our legs were jelly, our wallets empty, our hearts full. It meant the rest of the group had to accustom themselves to my speed. Liva also spent money like she didn’t even notice it, Carter tried to match her, and Ever spent nothing and tried not to let the others catch on.
One moment stood out brightest of all of the memories we made: when we met another gaming group—a party of four, GM’d by two girls, who led them through a cyberpunk dystopia—who sat next to us in an empty corner of the con floor, going through their loot.
Once we each realized the other group was a gaming group too, the introductions followed easily and bragging about our respective adventures was obviously the next step. They told us about hacking into a multinational company and going off-grid. We told them about going undercover in the magisterium and sniffing out spies.
I was tired and in pain, so I sat back against the wall and Ever sat next to me, and we watched it all unfold. Ever leaned into me a bit. “I’ve always thought this the test of a good game. Whether it withstands the stories told about it.”
Liva and Carter were caught up in a heated argument with the healer of the other group. Maddy sat with one of the GMs, exchanging notes on the overlap between games and sports. And without thinking about it, I reached for Ever’s hand. “It does.”
Neither of us could stop smiling, not then nor on the long journey home.
We were a family. We should’ve been a family. But families look out for one another, and there was so much we didn’t notice.
* * *
I shouldn’t have come back here.
Maddy drags us onto the landing, where she holds up a hand, and listens. There’s another dull thud. And another.
“Was that the door?” Ever asks.
She nods. “I think so.”
“Do they lock at a set time?”
Maddy swallows hard. “Maybe? I don’t know. I hate those locks.”
Ever shakes their head. “It’d be too much of a coincidence too.”
“Someone’s inside.” My voice trips and breaks, but for once, I don’t mind the high tones.
We all take a step closer together. Huddle. Protect one another. But Ever shakes their head. “That doesn’t make sense. It sounds like someone’s pounding on the door, which they wouldn’t do if they were inside, right?”
When they say that, Maddy moves forward as if she’s been stung. “We have to get to the front door, now. I propped it open, just in case. I didn’t like the idea that it could close behind us. Liva and I got locked in here once when her security system tripped up, and after the stuff with the fireplace, I didn’t want to risk it.”
“So that’s a good thing, right?” Ever asks.
“It is, but the door will keep trying to close, and it will destroy the sword. So we have to get out before it does.”
If the one door that leads outside closes—or if someone’s between us and it—how do we get out?
I take the lead down the stairs as fast as I can manage. I’d honestly rather fall and break something than stay and get locked in. It’s all a matter of priorities.
Then, the click of a lock—of multiple locks—once more.
Maddy pushes past me. “Those are the windows. Whoever tripped the fireplace must be doing this too. I don’t know how. I don’t particularly care to know how. But I’m not waiting here to figure out what else they’ve got up their sleeves.”
Ever catches up with me, offering me a hand and a chance to lean on them.
I hesitate but stick to my crutches. Ever’s the only one I would trust not to let me fall, but without being able to see much beyond our direct periphery, I’d rather trust my own instincts. “What do you think Thief means?” I ask them.
“What does Liar mean?” Ever counters. “I don’t know if it’s a message or a way to mess with us. I don’t know if it matters.”
I look past them at Maddy, who made it down the stairs and is now nothing more than a darker shadow against an abyss of shadows. The stairs seem to wind around her, making her into the eye of the storm. Still, she waits until we join her. She could run to get the door, but leaving our line of sight doesn’t seem like a sensible idea anymore either. “Mad? Do you know?”
She winces and doesn’t answer. “All I know is we need to get out. Come on.”
Eighteen
Maddy
Here’s the thing. I never quite know if I’m responding the “right” way to anything happening around me. Should I be more scared? Should I be angrier? Should fear immobilize me? What happens around me and how my brain responds to it are two entirely different things, and I can’t tell all the time how they’re connecting.
But the grief is raw and angry and freezing cold.
Do I know what Thief means?
Does it matter?
Finn and Ever are whirlwinds of emotion right now. Intense, overwhelming, and inescapable. I hate it. I don’t have a healthy way to deal with them. I don’t know how to. And with Ever and Finn as broken as I am, their feelings are all the more inescapable. I’m cold.
Focused. Breaking.
Carter would’ve been fine if he hadn’t gone in to help me.
We’re getting out, that’s what we’re doing. Everything else is secondary.
We have to stay close to one another.
I should’ve kept Carter close. I should’ve stopped him.
But somehow that makes it worse too.
We’re all breaking, and I really want to dull the pain. All I want to do is to make it stop.
The pain from my knee sneaks its way up my leg and into my resolve. I’ve walked these stairs a few too many times today. I walked up a mountain today. I can hardly remember it.
And Finn’s question keeps nagging at me.
“You know
