It was cold and dank and lonely. Her feet echoed on the damp stone and occasionally splashed in a puddle. The corridor branched, and branched again.
There was something making sounds behind her. She stopped to listen. The noises were heavy, slithering, dragging ones. She couldn’t tell whether they were moving towards her or away.
Freddy quickened her steps, darting through the corridors, which grew darker and darker as the lights winked out behind her. She could hear the slithering noises even through her own footsteps and rapid panting breathing. Whatever it was was tracking her. When she moved faster, it moved faster. Soon she would tire, and it would catch up.
And it was all just stupid.
Freddy stopped in place.
She didn’t want to be doing this. I’m a twenty-first-century Canadian. I live in Metro Vancouver. I go to school and worry about math and English and the fact that my stepbrother hates me. There’s no reason for me to be lost in a medieval dungeon right now. Freddy picked up one of the torches. Her hands were trembling; she willed them to stop. If they’re going to force me to do this, I’ll do it my way. I won’t be herded any more.
The slithering noises were very close now. She turned around and plunged back into the blackness.
She was in a square white room. Ban was standing in a corner, looking at her. “Well done,” she said.
Freddy threw down the torch. She wasn’t sure she had ever been quite this angry. It was real anger that made her little smouldering tantrums at Roland feel like nothing more than petulance. “Were you testing me?”
“I? No,” said Ban. “Were you testing you?”
“I did not trap myself in a dungeon with a monster!” snarled Freddy, shaking.
Ban shrugged. “If you say so. At any rate, I liked the way you handled it. Realistically, of course, your decision was suicidal,” she said thoughtfully, “but metaphorically, it worked very well.”
Freddy stood there with her mouth open and somehow avoided screaming.
“You interest me.” Ban tapped her fingernails against her teeth. “You aren’t as insignificant as you seem.”
“Thanks so much,” said Freddy when her voice came back.
Ban held out a hand to her. “Come on. There’s something happening now that you should see.”
Freddy didn’t want to take Ban’s hand. She didn’t trust Ban. Trusting any version of Cuerva Lachance was roughly equivalent to trusting a suspension bridge in a windstorm. On the other hand, this room had no doors or windows, so if she didn’t go with Ban, she could be here forever. Freddy sighed and extended her own hand. Ban grinned.
They were in the living room. So were Roland and one of the Josiahs; it was hard to tell which when they weren’t together in a room. Freddy stared. It was well before it was time for school to start, but she still had no idea why Roland would be here.
“They can’t see us,” said Ban. “Just watch.”
At almost the same time, Roland said, “I don’t care how late you’ll be. I need you to listen—”
You want me to stay away from your sisters, signed Josiah. It’s none of your business.
Freddy looked away, instinctually. But … well, that wasn’t true, was it? She always told herself she was looking away from the signing, but she never really was. She’d learned far more ASL than she’d ever admitted, even to herself. She’d even noticed the way Roland and his friends used different facial expressions while they were signing. And she’d practised in front of the mirror once or twice when she knew nobody was looking. She was good at languages; this one she’d just picked up by accident. Maybe some of it had been on pur pose. Maybe she’d looked in Mel’s ASL book a few times. Maybe it had been more than a few times.
“You can’t sign,” said Roland.
Josiah shook his head. I can.
“There’s no reason you should,” said Roland. “Nothing about you makes sense.”
Is that really the problem? signed Josiah. Can’t the girls look after themselves?
“No.” Roland turned abruptly away from Josiah. “They think they can, but they don’t know what they’re getting into. You’re not … right. I don’t know exactly how yet, but there’s something wrong with you.”
Josiah moved around into Roland’s line of sight again and signed something Freddy didn’t understand. There were signs in there she didn’t know. She thought he was asking a question.
“Because I know,” said Roland sharply. “It isn’t as if you hide it. Not from me, anyway. Stop signing.”
I like signing, signed Josiah.
“No, stop signing now,” said Roland, looming over Josiah. “You have no right to … to take … you don’t even know…”
He raised his hands to his forehead and, again, turned away.
Freddy glanced at Ban, but she was staring raptly at Roland and didn’t seem to notice. Freddy wasn’t sure what to think. She’d known Roland didn’t like Josiah, and she’d known the two of them had to have had a confrontation while Freddy wasn’t around, but this was just confusing. As far as anyone had ever told her, all Roland had seen so far was Josiah’s sudden ponytail and his argument with an invisible person in the courtyard. If Mel had witnessed these things, she would have made notes in her little notebook and constructed some sort of mystery out of it all. If Freddy—the old Freddy—had witnessed them, she would have convinced herself they had never happened. There didn’t seem to be any reason for Roland to be so hostile.
Josiah waited until Roland looked back at him. Then he signed, You need to calm down.
“How am I supposed to do that?” Roland demanded. “I have this … feeling about you, and I can’t even tell anyone why because I don’t know why! I just know I need to keep you away from Freddy and Mel. They don’t understand.”
Do you? signed Josiah.
“No,” said Roland, “but I can tell you’re not right. They just think you’re exciting and new. Mel’s always making everything into a mystery. She’s trying to solve you. Freddy’s lonely. She … wants a friend.”
Freddy blinked. She hadn’t known he’d seen that. She hadn’t known he’d noticed anything about her at all.
Is that so bad? signed Josiah. You aren’t friends with her.
“She’s so difficult,” snarled Roland. “How can I be friends with her? She wants to be the most boring person in the world.”
Josiah shrugged.
“You’re not-boring in the wrong way. You keep away from her,” said Roland.
Make friends with her and keep me away yourself, signed Josiah.
“I…” After what seemed to be a long struggle, Roland finished the sentence: “… don’t know how.”