“Parisian street slang,” said Josiah, relenting. “The gist is that she hates the whole world, doesn’t believe anything Monsieur Lachance has told her, and doesn’t understand why the thing with the choice is such a big deal. This is her choice. She’ll be making it in a few minutes. Some of them do react like this.” He waved a hand dismissively.
Freddy watched the girl rave for a bit. She could hear almost no words she recognised. The dialect, the accent, and maybe even the century rendered the French all but incomprehensible. But she wasn’t sure she needed to understand the exact words. There was something … not right … here. Josiah had told her the choice was something Three had to do. He had implied it was no big deal, just a way of shifting the balance between Cuerva Lachance and Josiah slightly. Claire seemed very upset, though. Struggling, Freddy thought she caught the word rêve.
“‘Dream’?” she said. “Is she one of the ones who dream about you?”
“Sure. Maybe. I wasn’t paying attention,” said Josiah a little too loudly. Freddy narrowed her eyes. Josiah may have been one of the worst liars she had ever met, which was surprising, considering.
“You could translate,” Freddy pointed out.
“It isn’t interesting,” said Josiah.
M. Lachance was speaking now. “I don’t care,” said Freddy. “Translate.”
Josiah heaved a hugely exaggerated sigh. “If you insist.” Freddy caught a hint of triumph under the petulance. Evidently, the part of the conversation he hadn’t wanted her to hear was over.
“He’s telling her, ‘Well, that was very eloquent,’” said Josiah, “‘but not very relevant. Have you made your decision?’”
Claire glowered. “Why should I?”
“Why shouldn’t you?” asked M. Lachance, fluttering his hands in the air in a way Freddy recognised. “Do you think everything will go poof if you do? I ask out of curiosity, you understand. I don’t think everything will go poof if you do.”
“You don’t make any sense,” said Claire.
“What fun would that be?” said M. Lachance.
“If I choose,” said Claire, crossing her arms, “what do I get?”
M. Lachance and French Josiah exchanged glances. “‘Get’?” said French Josiah.
“What’s in it for me?” said Claire.
He shrugged. “Clearly, there’s something you want. Name it.”
“I want you to leave me alone,” said Claire.
French Josiah muttered something Josiah didn’t translate because M. Lachance was saying simultaneously, “I did think she was going to be one of the difficult ones.”
“We can’t leave you alone. That’s the whole point,” said French Josiah irritably. “You’re stuck with us forever. It’s very sad. Could you just choose now, please?”
“Fine,” said Claire, her voice high and sharp with fury. She slapped a hand over her eyes, spun around in a circle, and flung out her other arm. “I choose you!”
Freddy had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling. Claire was pointing right in between the two Josiahs.
“Well, that’s ironic,” said M. Lachance, though he didn’t explain why. “It’ll do, though.” He turned to Freddy and added in English, “Hello, curly-haired one. Did you enjoy the show?”
Claire peeked suspiciously out from between her fingers. Freddy bit the insides of her cheeks harder. The girl seemed to Freddy to be a seething ball of anger packed tightly into a frame hardly bigger than Freddy’s own. Is that what I look like sometimes when I’m busy hating the whole world? Why do I hate the whole world, anyway? She blinked. Did she? The anger was still there, lurking deep inside, but it had been out on the surface before. It had retreated inward at some point during those twenty-six days.
What had made the difference? She had been yanked brutally off into the past for no particular reason, bundled helplessly from time to time. Why wasn’t she miserable any more?
Roland, she thought, testing herself. The anger barely twitched. Oh, come on … he was the whole reason I was mad about everything. I can’t just not be mad because he’s not around. He came into our house. He’s suddenly part of our family. He … Mel likes him. He’s always sulking about something. He’s not our brother. Everything changed when he came …
Inexplicably, the image of Ling patiently guiding her needle down the length of the tear floated into her mind. Freddy shoved it away.
Claire was glaring openly at Freddy now. She didn’t seem very much like either Bragi Boddason or Ling. They had been calmer, for one thing. She spat something; Freddy thought she heard the word anglais. “She hates you. Don’t take it personally,” said Josiah. “She hates everyone.”
To Freddy’s surprise, French Josiah nodded. “We have our hands full this time,” he said in English. His accent was hard to identify, but he sounded relatively fluent.
The slightly condescending tone set Freddy’s teeth on edge. Both Josiahs were treating Claire like … like a misbehaving pet. What was it with the Threes, anyway? All Freddy really knew about them so far was that Josiah and Cuerva Lachance forced them to choose, then followed them around for the rest of their lives. They clearly thought the choice was important, but Claire’s approach seemed to indicate that it didn’t matter how or why it happened. And there was something about it that Josiah didn’t want Freddy to find out.
She was going to be travelling with Josiah for some time. She would figure out the Threes; she would figure out the choice. If she was Three, she would eventually have to make it herself. She didn’t think Claire’s method was going to do it for her. Maybe it’s good I’m stuck doing this. At least it gives me some extra time. Mel would come over all private investigator. She would look at the whole situation as a puzzle, and she would slot the pieces together one by one. She wasn’t Mel, but perhaps she could think like her for a while.
M. Lachance was beaming at her. “This is near the beginning for you, isn’t it?” he said. “I can tell. You still look as if you would rather like to bite Josie’s face off.”
“I wouldn’t,” said Freddy. It was true. The anger was draining away. She thought … it was because of Three, though she couldn’t have said why. The closest she could get was to think that finding out the truth about Three had given her something to work towards. Was that why she had been angry all the time before? Because she hadn’t had anything to work towards? Because she had been meandering through life being discontented about everything without really being able to understand why or do anything concrete about it?
No, that was stupid. Roland, she thought again, almost willing back the anger, and then, unexpectedly, I wish I could discuss this with Roland. She blinked. She had never wanted to discuss anything with Roland before. She knew he was the one who had been making her angry.
“Really?” said Josiah. “You’re not going to go catatonic or try to strangle me or do something else insane?”
Freddy shook her head. She thought it would have been obvious by now. “I want to go home. But I won’t get there any faster if I panic every time we jump. Strangling you won’t help, either,” she added belatedly when she had thought about it for a few seconds.