“So’s urine,” Granddad says.
My phone vibrates beneath my fingertips with a message, and I push back my chair to look at it before I can stop myself. Maybe Luke’s ready to play and I can be excused and escape to safety. After they all have a chance to talk to him, of course. Ugh. I unlock the screen and check my messages.
Can’t play tonight. Sry. Next week?
“Kat? Is it Luke? Can you ask him to call your dad’s cell? We can put him on speakerphone for a bit before you go off to play.” Mom’s words wrap themselves around my chest and squeeze the air right out of my lungs. How do I tell her that Luke doesn’t have time for us? That he doesn’t have time for me?
One turnip . . . two university . . .
“Don’t be silly, Laura.” Granddad’s voice cuts off my counting. “It’s Friday night. They don’t want to talk to us old fogies. Let them go do their thing.”
When I look up, Mom and Granddad are locked in a staring match. Dad is eating the last of his potatoes, either oblivious or just refusing to get involved.
Mom sighs. “All right. You’re right, Dad. Go ahead, Kat. But tell Luke he’d better call us later this weekend.”
I grip my phone tightly, unsure what to say. Is it a lie to disappear downstairs without telling them that Luke’s abandoned me? Is it even worth disappearing downstairs if Luke’s abandoned me?
Luke’s the one who got the server set up and makes sure it’s running 24/7. And recruited people to play on it through the LotS forums. And organizes our rift raids. And knows everyone by name as well as by username.
But that doesn’t mean we need him. I don’t need to know real names to play with people. Usernames are enough.
And I can always just work on my underwater castle alone. Again.
One jelly bean . . . two underwater windows . . .
“Go,” Granddad pronounces. He literally waves me away, flapping his hand in the air like one of Mom’s dishcloths. “Those animated creatures aren’t going to kill themselves. Go have fun.”
So I do.
LEGENDS OF THE STONE
KittyKat has logged on.
[]Sythlight: Hi
KittyKat: hi
Moriah: Hi
HereAfter: hey
[]Sythlight has discovered a legendary weapon.
KittyKat: sweet, which one?
[]Sythlight: Battle-ax of Lorenzo
[]Sythlight: Shadowbeast spawned right outside my door. Practically gave me a heart attack.
KittyKat: yikes
[]Sythlight: Yeah
KittyKat has entered the waterlands.
KittyKat: there’s water pouring into my tower!!!
[]Sythlight: That’s what you get for building it underwater. ;)
KittyKat: our world’s never been so unstable before
KittyKat: rifts are usually under control
[]Sythlight: Yeah, Lucien hasn’t planned a rift raid in a while.
KittyKat: yeah, he’s been busy :(
[]Sythlight: Two new rifts spawned outside town. One in the drylands and one in the badlands.
KittyKat: that’d do it
[]Sythlight: Want to do a raid?
KittyKat: sure
KittyKat: moriah, hereafter, you up for one?
HereAfter: Sorry about to log off
Moriah: me too
Moriah: good night everyone
HereAfter: bye
[]Sythlight: Ciao
Moriah has logged off.
HereAfter has logged off.
KittyKat: have a good night
[]Sythlight has entered the badlands.
KittyKat: well, so much for that idea
[]Sythlight: Badlands rift is small. Might be able to do it with just 2.
KittyKat: really?
[]Sythlight: When the 2 are us, definitely. We’ll be done in 5 minutes. ;)
KittyKat: ha ha yeah ok. but only if I can be the archer
[]Sythlight: We could both be archers.
KittyKat: that’d be suicide! >:O
[]Sythlight: But hilarious.
KittyKat: lol it’s ok. you be the archer. I’ll tank.
[]Sythlight: jk jk. It’s fine. You be the archer.
KittyKat: you sure?
[]Sythlight: Yep. I prefer tank anyway.
[]Sythlight: Still no VoiceChat?
KittyKat: no. no mic. sorry
[]Sythlight: No problem. Typing’s fine. Ready?
KittyKat has entered the badlands.
KittyKat: yep, let’s do this
CHAPTER 3
KAT
THE TREADMILL CREAKS AS I MOUNT IT. I HAVE GOT TO CONVINCE MOM and Dad to buy a new one. In Ottawa, I used to just run outside, but even though the streets are numbered here, I’m not confident that I won’t get lost. Plus, from what I’ve heard about Edmonton weather, winter will probably be here in a matter of days. The leaves have already started falling from the trees. And not a slow, colorful striptease like in Ontario, but a sudden, down-to-business discarding of a plain dress onto the floor.
My phone dings. It’s Mom.
We’re stopping for groceries after dinner this eve. Need anything?
She, Dad, and Granddad have gone to some conference for the afternoon, then out for supper. Their absence leaves me with the house magnificently to myself. And since I finished all my homework this morning—teachers always start the school year off easy, trying to win us over before destroying our souls—that means I get to spend my whole Saturday afternoon and evening with LotS and LumberLegs. Glorious.
I do a mental inventory of our cupboards, then slow the treadmill to a walk so I can type.
Yeast. I think we’re almost out.
Tomorrow, maybe I’ll make a loaf of bread. I haven’t done that since we left Ottawa.
I increase the treadmill’s speed and lose myself in my breathing. One dog . . . two cat . . . three fast . . . four faster . . .
After my run, I’m going to work on my underwater castle. It took us a couple of hours, but Sythlight and I managed to close up two whole rifts last night, so that should make the world more stable—no more damaged castles or shadowbeasts spawning in safe zones. For now. But I still have to fix up the gaping hole in my castle tower.
The doorbell rings, echoing hollowly down the stairs, and the castle in my head shatters from the noise. Outside, real-life noise. I hold my breath and slow the treadmill—not to stop it, but just to quiet it. Make it sound like no one’s home. The only people I know in this whole city—Mom, Dad, and Granddad—are all out for the day. Which means it’s a stranger at the door. Not even the promise of Girl Guide cookies could get me to talk to a stranger right now. Even a ten-year-old stranger.
My phone dings again. Probably Mom wondering if there’s a brand of yeast I prefer.
You home?
Not Mom. I slow the treadmill even more.
Who is this?
Another ding, a moment later.
Meg. your brilliant science partner. If you’re home let me in it’s cold out here
I stop the treadmill abruptly. Not Girl Guide cookies. But still a stranger. Knowing her name doesn’t make her not a stranger.
The doorbell rings again. My throat tightens.
Why is she here?
I focus on my breathing.
One chocolate mint . . . two . . . two . . . two . . . I can’t get my—breathing—under—control—
Ding.
I thought we could work on our science thing