Chapter 10 — Butterflies

  We squinted in the sunlight. The end of the duel had deposited us back in the still-sunny park. I shaded my eyes while I got my bearings. Jack and Jill were packing up—Jack frustrated, Jill disappointed. Rana had held my hand throughout the transition, but let go as we settled back into reality once more.

  I didn't mind. The euphoria hadn't gone away. It felt like it might never. I was on top of the world, ready to shout from mountaintops and run around the entire city laughing with joy. A laugh did escape my lips, drawing everyone's attention.

  "Noël?" asked Rana, raising an eyebrow.

  She looked so worried, when nothing at all was wrong in that moment. I burst out laughing even harder. The Marburn couple across the table, too, wore concerned looks, but I waved them off.

  "I'm good," I said, sighing with relief.

  "First victory, huh?" asked Jack, faint comprehension dawning on his face.

  I nodded.

  "Good stuff." He grinned. "Well fought, too. I can't say I'm happy, but hey, everybody's gotta lose sometime."

  "Thanks," I replied. No need to be undignified in victory. I wasn't the type to rub it in. Not that I usually had much to celebrate anyway, but still, I wasn't gonna start. That wasn't the kind of player I wanted to be. "Let's do it again sometime."

  Jack laughed. "Give me some space, sheesh! I gotta get better before I'm going up against your tricks. Check and you are a great fit." He scratched his chin for a moment thoughtfully. "That said, might be I can get you some other matches, if you're interested."

  "The forum?" asked Rana.

  "Girl wants matches," said Jack with a shrug.

  "I'm surprised you didn't invite her yourself," added Jill.

  Rana looked down, embarrassed. "I don't have invite privileges," she murmured.

  "Oh… right, sorry. Forgot they changed the rules." Jack shook his head. "Well, Noël, there's a website for the League. Unofficial, to be clear."

  "We think it's unofficial. Who the hell knows?" said Jill.

  "People put their hats in the ring for matches there, track each other down. It's also a good way for us to keep in touch. S'how we know about most of the wishes that come true," said Jack. "You want in?"

  For the moment, I didn't feel like I even needed it. The victory was still carrying me on invisible wings. What even mattered at this point, compared to this kind of joy? Then, I remembered what I was fighting for. I needed more wins. Lives were on the line.

  "Yeah."

  Jack and I coordinated getting me on the site, as he sent an email to one of my private accounts—one that hadn't been leaked to the media. In minutes, I'd signed up under a pseudonym. The Marburns promised not to reveal who I was, but I wasn't exactly going to rely on that. They seemed nice enough, for sure. As I watched them pack up and drive off, nothing struck me as anything less than genuine.

  And yet… this was a competition. We were rivals at best. Could friends exist with so much on the line?

  Rana's fingers found their way between mine, and I remembered—yeah, I could have friends in this mess. More than friends, in fact. I turned, and without a second's hesitation, planted a kiss on Rana's lips.

  She giggled. "What was that for?"

  "Like I need a reason to kiss my girlfriend?"

  A smile bloomed on her face. Rana leaned forward and kissed me back. "You played really well."

  I shrugged. "Could've done better."

  "Don't be so modest. You've only played two matches."

  "Hell of a lot of games besides, with Kyla and a couple others at Drizzle."

  Rana put her arms around me and pulled me close. We began to sway slightly in the breeze, as if dancing without any music. With the sunlight streaming down and the gentle whisper of leaves everywhere, coupled with the lasting sweetness of my win, it felt like a perfect moment. So much so, I had to say something about it.

  She put her head on my shoulder, closing her eyes. "Perfect?" Rana murmured, arms still wrapped around me tight.

  "I never want it to end," I whispered back.

  Rana sighed, sounding as satisfied as I felt. We stayed there for a long time—I would've sworn it was hours, though it ended up being more like thirty minutes—just swaying and whispering to each other for a long while, until neither of us felt like standing anymore. It was like neither of us wanted to disturb the moment, disrupt the quiet park around us. The sun was dropping though, and it would get dark soon. I had to break it, as much as I hated to do so.

  We'd dropped onto the grass, watching a pair of blue and purple butterflies flit around a patch of flowers nearby. I'd never been the biggest fan of them—insects were not my thing—but in that moment, they were beautiful. A pair of them, dancing around the same flower, never quite making contact but clearly entwined all the same. Rana ran her hands through my hair, a gentle touch to accentuate the breeze still tickling my cheeks.

  "Can't we just stay out here?" I murmured. It spilled out of my mouth, not quite unbidden, but I had held out for so long. I didn't want to stop Rana's caress.

  To my relief, her fingers kept moving. "We can," she said, surprising me yet again, "but then someone will come looking for us. Carolyn, maybe."

  I shook my head. "Carolyn lets me keep my privacy."

  "She cares about you," said Rana, as her hand ran the length of my hair once again. "You don't want her to worry, do you?"

  "No," I sighed. I knew it was futile, but I couldn't help myself. "I could just tell her to give us more time. She'd understand."

  Rana leaned down and kissed me. No matter how many times we kissed, it never failed to put butterflies in my stomach. I visualized them as the pair of butterflies out in the field, which I'd just lost sight of. It felt like a signal.

  Time to go.

  "I know," I said, before Rana spoke again. She didn't want to say the real reason, and neither did I. Not in that moment. My hand went for my phone and began typing. "I'll text her."

  "Does she—" Rana started. She hesitated a few moments, as my phone beeped from the sent message. "Will you tell her about us?"

  "Do you want me to?" I asked. The butterflies long-gone, I turned up to look at her. Rana looked more nervous than I'd ever seen her. "Nobody's ever known, have they?"

  "No," said Rana quietly. "I mean, there was the rumor, but…"

  I nodded. "Just a rumor, which only Kyla really considered."

  "I…" Rana trailed off, her eyes locked on a space in the grass somewhere near my head. "I hate hiding," she murmured. "I'm so used to hiding, I've forgotten that I hate it."

  Seeing Rana upset, hearing those words cut me. My mood still hadn't really diminished, but it had sobered a little. "Like I said, Carolyn respects my privacy," I said, doing my best to be as gentle as possible. "I'm never going to tell anyone unless you say so, but she'd never tell a soul. Not even Lloyd. She protects my secrets. Protects me, too. She knows what I need before I do."

  "She sounds like an amazing woman," said Rana, smiling slightly.

  A car sound echoed. Carolyn, pulling up to the curb just behind the trees. She'd come right to us, using the location tag I'd sent. "Our chariot awaits," I said, gesturing.

  "Does that make you prince charming?" she asked, clambering to her feet before helping me up off the grass.

  "Absolutely not," I shot back, grinning. "I'm the cute town girl who swept the princess off her feet. The prince can go cry alone in his castle."

  "Poor man…" said Rana, shaking her head. "Maybe we should send him some flowers."

  I shrugged. "Come on, let's not keep her waiting."

  We headed toward the car, ducking around the trees as we did. Rana held my hand the whole way, but as we emerged toward the street, I loosened my grip. I'd expected her to let go, now that we were in public, but she surprised me yet again. Her fingers entwined with mine and held firm.

  Carolyn waved as we walked forward.

  "A good evening, Miss Súileabhán?"

  I nodded. "Thanks for picking us up, Carolyn."

  "Thank you," added Rana, hand still clutched in mine.

  Carolyn gave us a passing glance, but nothing beyond that. I wondered if Rana had even noticed, with how subtle it was. We might just look like close friends, for all the world to know. Of course, I'd forgotten how impulsive Rana could be sometimes.

  "I'm her girlfriend," said Rana abruptly. Her hand gripped mine so tight, her fingernails started to dig in. I resisted the urge to wince.

  True to form, Carolyn didn't act the least bit surprised. She simply nodded, then turned to open the rear door. "Where are we headed?"

  "Taking her home," I said, and though I tried to hide it, I knew Carolyn had caught the note of disappointment in my tone.

  Rana gave Carolyn her address. We climbed into the back seat together, and she shut the door. As we set off, Rana kissed me again, before laying her head down on my shoulder. Each bump of the road sent her tumbling away, but she always came right back to rest on me again. Carolyn never engaged the privacy screen, but Rana didn't seem to care in the slightest.

  "Is this okay?" she asked quietly.

  "Yes, of course," I said. I put one of my arms around her and leaned in.

  "You don't mind I'm being so… forward?"

  I laughed. "I thought you'd mind. I mean…" I nodded forward, to the open screen.

  "Oh," said Rana, as if she'd forgotten. "You said Carolyn—"

  "I'm not here," interrupted Carolyn in a jovial tone. "I wouldn't know the first thing going on in the back seat, Miss el-Yassin."

  "Rana, please," she said, a bit embarrassed. "That sounds… I don't know. Too much like…"

  "Like what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  She shook her head. "Too much like what I'm running away from."

  "Well, I'm not 'Miss Súileabhán' then either," I glanced pointedly at Carolyn through the driver mirror. "Noël from now own."

  "Poor Carolyn, forced to be unprofessional," said Rana, smiling.

  "Anything for my favorite client," said Carolyn.

  "What does that say about Lloyd?" she finished with a laugh. I was surprised—Rana never talked like this, so many open jokes, so relaxed. She'd only started being like that around me today, too. I liked it though. She seemed so much happier.

  We were over halfway there, and I wanted to stretch out the seconds into hours somehow. It was impossible though, unless I had some of the Moderator's fancy time-bending powers. Soon enough, we'd be at Rana's home, where my girlfriend would have to disappear once again, and the prim-and-proper Rana el-Yassin would re-emerge.

  As the car rounded the last corner, Carolyn came to a halt. Rana's home, a nice two-story place in the suburbs which didn't stand out in the slightest, was right at the end of the block. Carolyn flicked a switch on the console, and all the windows tinted down a notch.

  "End of the line."

  I looked to Rana, who'd tensed up as we landed on her street. "It's okay. Nobody can see you right now."

  Carolyn nodded, turning back to look at us. "This car was built special for Mr. Strauser. A gift to Noël, so we could drive through town in peace."

  Rana looked to me, and the mixture of sadness and affection was palpable on her face. She sighed, nestling back onto my shoulder once more. "It's time for me to go, Noël," she murmured, and I could already hear the old Rana in her voice again.

  "We'll have more time," I said firmly. "All the time together you could possibly want."

  "My life won't allow that," said Rana. She glanced out the window, looking back at her home. "We can only be friends, outside this place. I want to be with you, but you know that, right?"

  "So we make time between all that."

  She took my hand. "Not even in messages or phone calls. There's too much at stake. Carolyn's right… end of the line, for now. I'm fighting for something too, remember?"

  A wish, I finished in my head, since Carolyn was still listening. Of course, Rana was still thinking of the League too. We might have something together, but this was one day. An amazing, near-perfect day for me with a girl I cared dearly for, but what did that compare to a wish?

  I had to watch her walk away.

  "Don't worry," said Rana.

  She sat up and kissed me again, long and deep. I felt a burst of embarrassment, as Carolyn had been looking right at us, but it quickly melted away in Rana's embrace. All I wanted to do was kiss her, hold her, and forget the rest of the world around us. Rana finally broke it, though her face remained millimeters away from mine.

  "If it is willed, we'll be together again."

  ***

  As promised, by the next day Rana and I were many steps removed. We were strictly friends, and from what I'd gathered, she'd stayed out too late Monday with me. As a result, her parents had clamped down a bit harder on her free time outside school, which left us zero opportunities to spend time together.

  It's really hard seeing the person you like every day with that barrier, you know? Like, I was still in school, and I shared a class with Rana every day. Every single day, I had to see her, and know we could never be close. On B days, that was computer science, where Rana and I shared a learning group along with Kyla. I loved Kyla like a big sister, but I knew she couldn't keep her mouth shut. My relationship with Rana had to wait, as much as I'd enjoy telling her.

  Meanwhile, the other day held my class with both Rana and Reylon. I couldn't prove he'd been the one to destroy Kyla's lunch hideout, but I was pretty damn sure. Reylon was smart, and he'd shown he was willing to do whatever it took. Now that I knew he was in the League, I expected worse down the line. After all, we were competitors now. He was a winner.

  I, on the other hand, was one and one. With Rana unavailable, I focused my efforts on the other most important part of my life. There was a light at the end of the tunnel finally, and I was going to reach it. Rana might not be able to talk to me, but she'd already helped me find a path forward, through the Marburns and the League forum.

  By the end of the day Monday, I'd signed up for the site off Jack's invite link. It wasn't a particularly active place, to my disappointment—or relief? I couldn't really decide. On the one hand, less competition, but on the other, less people to duel. Everyone believed you needed a lot of variety to get your wish.

  The forum blocked us from seeing the memberlist, and everyone wrote under aliases. I didn't have a clue who I was speaking with on there most of the time. Robin's posts were easy to spot, but the rest could be anyone. It was unfamiliar territory, and I wasn't sure how cautious to play it. Heart pounding, I'd posted to a few matchup threads, and waited.

  Nothing came. A couple days went by. School dragged on as I checked my phone every thirty minutes. All I wanted was one match, one person to duel. Games at Drizzle with Kyla and the other regulars were getting stale. Especially after winning a League match, they felt so trite. I needed the victories, I needed that feeling again. My parents were waiting on the other side, if only I could reach it enough times.

  At night, I saw them when I slept. Sometimes, my dreams were my parents bathed in white light, descending from on high. Others, they simply walked in the front door at Lloyd's. They'd call for me and I'd come running, every single time, desperate to hear their voices again. Once, my dream consisted of Carolyn dropping me off at my old home, Rana at my side. We opened the door hand-in-hand, and my mother hugged us both so tight that Rana started to choke a little. My parents accepted us both, loved us both.

  I woke up in tears that night. It was the first time I'd cried in a few months, ever since we'd moved to the new mansion. The release did wonders for my psyche, but it was another stark reminder—I needed to win.

  Nobody wanted to duel me though. I couldn't figure out why. My posts weren't that different from any of the other match seekers, but I didn't get a bite—besides Robin, who posted on every thread, more eager to get his wish than anybody on the board. Was I too new? Too unknown? Or did they know who I really was, and didn't want to face me? Could I have a reputation, some mysterious albatross around my neck?

  I wasn't about to duel Robin again. For one, I didn't think I could beat him yet. That kid was hard to read. By the second round with Jack, I knew exactly what the guy was about to do, and the third round was a piece of cake. Robin, though… I just didn't have a bead on him. Even worse, if I did… did I really want to inflict a penalty on a sixth grader? When I didn't even know what they were yet?

  As Wednesday rolled into Thursday and I spent yet another day with Kyla in the cafeteria, doing our best to ignore the noise around us, I gave in. Nobody wanted to duel yet. Rana and I were texting on and off, but she was buried in some project for an extracurricular. She was working on her future, so I needed to work on mine too.

  Reluctantly, I dug out my phone.

  "What's up with you?" asked Kyla, chewing through one of the weak cafeteria fries. They weren't nearly crispy enough, but she loved them anyway. I didn't get it.

  "Huh?"

  "Staring at your phone all miserable. You reading the news again?"

  "No." I paused. "...Why?"

  "Oh, the usual." Kyla leaned back and put her foot up on the table. One of the teachers happened to wander by right as she did, and shot her a glare. Sheepishly, Kyla sat up straight again before continuing. "People mad about something in politics and yelling about how we shouldn't be governed by crazy people three thousand miles away."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  "What are they gonna do, leave?"

  "Apparently." Kyla chewed through another couple fries. "You fancy starting a new nation? All hail Cascadia?"

  I snorted. "Like that will ever happen."

  "Hey, they sound super serious this time." Kyla rolled her eyes. "Anyway, seriously, what's up?"

  "Just preparing to do something I'm really afraid of." I pulled up the Moderator's contact entry in my phone and hovered my thumb over the message button.

  "Ask Rana out?" said Kyla, smirking.

  Oh, if only she knew. "Sure, we'll go with that."

  Noël: what do i have to do?

  I set my phone back down, waiting. Kyla chewed through another couple fries, scrolling through her own phone at the same time. Hers was beat up, screen cracked and the back casing loose. I'd been considering buying her a new one, if only so that I wouldn't lose contact with her. I figured I could swing that as a present without offending her too much.

  My phone buzzed.

  Kyla's eyebrow shot up. She grinned. "Girl, you've got game."

  Rolling my eyes, I glanced down at the screen, terrified of what it might say.

  The Moderator: Please meet me at your friend's usual table in five minutes. Make sure Kyla does not follow you. You will be back in time for class.

  I stood up. "Gotta go."

  Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Where to, lover girl?"

  "Nowhere." I glanced at her, trying to convey how serious I was—which, of course, only made her grin wider. "Wait here, okay?"

  "Of cours—"

  "Promise, Kyla," I added.

  She sighed. "I promise."

  I left my school bag with her just in case. It didn't have anything I cared about, really, but it was enough insurance that I figured Kyla wouldn't feel blown off. With Check in my pocket next to my phone, I hurried out the back of the school and toward our old lunch spot. The gaping hole Reylon had left still stood, so it wasn't exactly private anymore. I wondered why the Moderator wanted to meet here, of all places.

  Of course, when I walked through the row of bushes, it became clear we weren't meeting there in the slightest.

  The fog swirled in. Grey twisting layers, the same as when we'd been transported to the Commission, filled the whole clearing. I wondered what it looked like from the outside—probably like what Rana described for a typical game, with two people just staring at each other in empty space.

  Speaking of which… where the hell was the Moderator?

  "I'm sorry, Noël my dear."

  A disembodied voice, floating somewhere just above my shoulder. I jumped, looking about frantically. Even now, expecting his contact, the Moderator still managed to surprise me.

  "I'm afraid I can't meet with you in person. I wish I could, I do love our visits."

  "Uh-huh," I muttered, glancing around the fog. "So…"

  "Yes, of course," said the Moderator, sounding a bit distracted. I heard papers shuffling around, as if I were standing in an office with him. "Your indemnification. Things have been a bit hectic around here lately, I do apologize for my rudeness."

  "What do I have to do to work off the penalty?" I asked, now feeling a little impatient. This whole penalty business just needed to be over already.

  "Tonight, at eleven-thirty p.m., you will need to be at the corner of Division and Cesar Chavez, near the petrol station," said the Moderator, and it was weird hearing Portland street names out of his mouth. Seriously unsettling, for reasons I couldn't put my finger on. "You'll need to pick something up for us and deliver it. Instructions will be provided at the time."

  "That's it?"

  "If you wish to 'work off' your penalty, yes." The Moderator shuffled some more disembodied papers about. "Be there tonight, Noël. I would hate to see you miss your opportunity."

  Well there was a veiled threat if ever I heard one. I nodded, then realized the Moderator might not be able to see me either. "Okay."

  "Excellent. Unfortunately, I could not account for lost time here, so I'm afraid you will need to run if you wish to catch your final class." The fog began to swirl away. "Eleven-thirty, Noël!" he called as it dissipated entirely.

  Soon enough, I'd returned to the real world once again. Nobody was staring at me, to my relief. I hurried back into the cafeteria just as the bell rang. Kyla shot me a confused look, but she'd kept her word and not left the table. I grabbed up my bag and waved goodbye as I rushed to class.

  Eleven-thirty tonight.

  ***

  I spent the afternoon with Kyla. If I could, I would've spent it with Rana. Who knew what might happen tonight? The League had already made it clear this was a dangerous game. I hadn't heard of anyone dying… but I wasn't about to be the first, either.

  Kyla could tell something was up, too. I was distracted in our games, and even though I managed to win, she knew I was totally out of it. She did her best, making jokes and teasing me for stupid moves, but I kept circling right back to tonight. Corner of Division and Cesar Chavez. Was that symbolic somehow? There was a gas station and a 7-Eleven there. It was kinda close to where I used to live, but not so much that I thought it was important. Nothing special at all. What was I going to be doing?

  Eventually, Kyla headed home too. I think she was a bit hurt. I was neglecting our time together. On the one hand, we'd spend a lot of time together over the last week, and she was probably overreacting. On the other… she was my best friend. No doubt about it. I could treat her better.

  After I got past all this, once the penalty was behind me, I'd make it up to her.

  I got dinner alone. Fast food, a place near my old home in fact. I was feeling nostalgic. Just being near my old stomping grounds gave me some kind of peace, a sign that I was moving in the right direction. My parents were here in spirit, even if I couldn't see them. I ate outside, caught between the city lights and the shadows of the sun dropping behind the mountains.

  What was I going to be delivering? I couldn't imagine it'd be drugs—they'd been decriminalized in Oregon for over a decade. Besides, it seemed too mundane for these people. I figured I couldn't possibly understand what they'd want. The Moderator and his whole world were too alien to me, as human as they might seem on the outside.

  The corner I needed to be at wasn't too far away. I didn't want to involve Carolyn, just in case. My trek across the city was quiet enough. Leisurely, I passed street after street, looking at the most interesting graffiti and artwork to pass the time. Hours crawled by. It was eleven o'clock by the time I reached the corner where the gas station stood.

  Immediately, my phone buzzed.

  The Commissioner: Go behind station. Wait out of sight.

  The big honcho themself… Guess it made sense, with how the Moderator described everything. I was in the Commissioner's hands now, whether I liked it or not. My goal was ahead, a station directly on the corner of the two streets.

  As the walk sign flipped on, I pocketed my phone. There was one truck filling up with a half-asleep man at the wheel. One attendant stood by the pump, munching on a candy bar, and another inside at the counter. Nobody else in sight. This intersection was eerily quiet, even for the middle of the night. Just the insistent sound of the walk signal, droning 'walk' over and over aloud behind me in that odd pitched recording.

  I crossed, trying to look as nonchalant as I could. At this time of night, I was very conscious how out of place I looked… and how dangerous it could be. Fifteen year old girl, alone, middle of the night? This wasn't a particularly bad area, but still. Forget the League, I'd be nervous either way. I reached into my purse and felt for the pepper spray I'd bought earlier that day, just to remind myself it was still there. Better safe than sorry.

  Once I passed the station, I doubled back. The space was uncomfortably wide-open, but there was a nook behind some bushes, just past the bus stop where I could sit. I nestled down and waited, checking my phone every few minutes for the time, or for an update. As I looked up from the screen for the third or fourth time, something moved.

  My heart stopped for a second. Someone was looking at me. Across the street, lurking in the bushes, a figure in a long jacket. As the person turned, the light caught on a short sword hanging just inside. The light fell across her face for an instant—the Enforcer. She was here watching me. Ready to… I don't know, kill me? If I stepped out of line, did anything not as instructed?

  You're insane, Noël. You know that, right? That woman is here to kill you, and you're still sitting in a bush.

  My parents are on the line. What do you want from me?

  To keep yourself alive! You think your parents want you to die in this stupid mission?

  Nothing's going to happen. I'll get whatever they want me to get, deliver it, and call Carolyn. No sweat.

  You're sweating a lot right now.

  True enough. I'd been sweating like crazy, and the night was pretty cold. Consequence of my antiperspirant running out, coupled with some seriously high stress. Couldn't really blame me, could you? Probably the deadliest woman on the planet stood across the street from me and locked on target. On me. Only the car driving away from the gas station interrupted her line of sight, and only for a split-second.

  It was eleven twenty-five. My phone buzzed again.

  The Commissioner: Man arriving now. Remain hidden.

  I stayed where I was as instructed. On cue, a man stumbled around the opposite corner into the parking lot. He looked a little drunk. I stayed hidden as he wandered toward the store, stumbling a bit. As he got closer, I saw the familiar look in his eyes. The guy looked down on life in every way. Broken like nothing could ever be whole again. I felt for him. I'd been there.

  He sat down on the curb and pulled out his phone. It looked even more beat up than Kyla's. I was far away, but I could see tears in his eyes as he swiped through something. From his expression, I was betting on photos of his family, but there was no way to tell. The gas station attendant was inside the store, and the man was totally alone.

  The man leaned back and looked up at the stars, muttering to himself. I imagined words for him, since I couldn't hear anything. He was probably cursing the world, just like I had. Shouting in futility at the stars, hoping beyond reason it might make a difference. Was I supposed to be listening to him? The Commissioner hadn't said anything. I didn't want to listen to him, as much as I empathized.

  A few minutes passed. The man got back to his feet, and as he did, a white object fell out of his jacket pocket. It looked like an envelope. He walked away without noticing, more confident with every step, continuing his path down the street. A minute later, he'd headed out of the lot and back into the darkness. I lost sight of him completely, right as the clock struck eleven-thirty.

  The Commissioner: Obtain envelope.

  Didn't have to tell me twice. The mission here was obvious. I stood and walked straight for it, still doing my best to appear nonchalant. The night was quiet still, and I figured the Commissioner wasn't one for noise and chaos. Sure enough, not a soul noticed me as I strolled up and grabbed the envelope. It was addressed to someone out in Forest Grove. Nothing I recognized. I quickly dropped it in my purse and turned to leave, but my phone stopped me.

  The Commissioner: Purchase white-out and stamps.

  ...Okay then. Guess we're changing the destination on this envelope. I headed into the store and found some white-out. Didn't think a 7-Eleven would carry any, but I guess it did fall under 'convenience' to some degree. Rana's favorite chocolates sat on a shelf opposite. The reminder of her gave me a bit more courage. I picked some up, with the intention of giving it to her next chance I got. Had to make it home alive for that, and I always kept my promises.

  White-out and stamps purchased, I left the store and headed back to where I'd been. As soon as I was off the street, Enforcer's eyes still on me the whole way, I got my next message.

  The Commissioner: Erase destination, write following.

  They accompanied it with a new address, again with a name and location I didn't recognize in the slightest. Dutifully, I set the envelope down and began to blank out the original destination. The envelope seemed light as a feather. There couldn't be more than just a piece of paper or two inside. Was it the title to something? Some kind of valuable contract or trade secret?

  I was tempted to open it. The thing wasn't really sealed. I could so easily just slip it open, glance inside, and sate my curiosity. Probably a terrible idea, but my finger was already moving under the flap. I couldn't help myself.

  A faint click echoed across the street. My eyes shot up. The Enforcer was staring me down, hand on her holster, pistol ready to draw. She slowly shook her head, just an inch to each side.

  Instantly, I took my finger away. The Enforcer's hand didn't move.

  Sweat beading on my forehead, I finished blanking out the address as fast as I could, without making a mess of things. I scrawled the new address, regretting how poor my handwriting had become, and properly sealed the envelope. As I stood, the Enforcer had vanished from her spot, but I had no doubt she was still lurking somewhere nearby.

  The Commissioner: Attach stamp. Walk minimum ten blocks, mail envelope.

  No direction from them… guess it didn't matter. I picked one at random, except the direction the man had disappeared, and set off. The night remained quiet as I walked. Stress still wracked every muscle of my body, but I was dealing with it. Fear and paranoia was a given, the people I was dealing with.

  I counted the blocks in my head, not daring to make a sound aloud. The shadows were tall and deep, filling every alley, swallowing up the city around me. I'd never felt more alone in Portland in my life. Every corner might contain some threat, every alley a dangerous trap waiting to spring. If I took just one wrong step…

  No, that was all wrong. This was my city. I'd lived here my whole life, and I'd been out late before. League or no League, I knew exactly where I was and what lay around every corner. I picked up the pace and crossed the tenth street without an ounce of drama. The moment I put the envelope in the mailbox, the whole world seemed to take a deep breath.

  As it exhaled, so did I. The task was over. I waited, and sure enough, my phone buzzed. One final text.

  The Commissioner: Penalty cleared.

  ***

  Carolyn picked me up another two blocks down at a bookstore. I didn't say anything about why I'd been out so late or what I was doing. My hope was she'd assume I'd lost track of time at the bookstore—I did love to read for hours at a time—so I wouldn't need to lie to her. Lying to Carolyn felt like crossing a line somehow.

  When she dropped me off, Lloyd was waiting at the dinner table. He looked worried, which did give me pause. I figured he wouldn't even have noticed I was gone. Lloyd didn't say anything about it, just asked if I was okay and if I needed anything like usual. Only his tone had changed.

  "I'm okay," I said firmly.

  "Miss Súileabhán was out at the bookshop," added Carolyn, standing at my side. Lloyd seemed to take this at face value, stood and wished me good night. As we turned, Carolyn shot me a conspiratorial smile. Maybe she'd thought I was out with Rana?

  I was glad she knew about our relationship though. There wasn't anybody else in my life who could know—nor anyone I really felt like telling either, to be honest—but having someone supportive was a plus. I hoped it showed Rana that she had people who supported her, too. Even if they'd only just met a couple weeks ago.

  A huge weight had vanished off my shoulders. I was in the clear again. No penalties hanging over my head, just the road to victory stretching out in front of me. Somehow, I felt like I'd actually get matches now. Like having the penalty made me a pariah or something, untouchable to the League elite.

  Friday morning continued the good vibes, both of the penalty relief and my renewed determination to compete. I started hunting other players' threads, rather than hoping to be noticed. No posts yet, but I was making a name for myself all the same. Online, I formed a new identity—a happy, easygoing duelist without any drama. I'd be the nice one, who always had a good word for everybody, and who never got into a fight.

  Just duels. Which I'd win.

  I managed to find a brief moment to speak with Rana during computer class, while Kyla was distracted. She was relieved to hear how safe the penalty had been, and that I'd come through the other side unscathed. Seeing her afraid for me, I could barely resist putting my arms around her.

  Someday, we'd have the space to be together.

  In the meantime, I had Kyla to worry about. We met up at lunch, and I could tell immediately something was off again. At first, I assumed it was the usual dejection at our forced relocation, but this was something else. Kyla was reacting to something specific, barely eating and staring at her beat-up phone with mixed expressions of wistful hope and depression.

  It took a straight kick to her leg to get her attention.

  "Ow!" Kyla's eyes shot up to meet mine. She rubbed her leg, glaring at me. "What gives, Noël?"

  "Trying to get you to wake up." I nodded at her phone. "Did something happen?"

  Kyla shrugged. "Nothing happened to me, if that's what you're worried about."

  "I'm worried about you," I shot back. "It's chicken fries day and you haven't had a single one. You love that crap."

  "Rub it in, rich girl," said Kyla, and not in the usual joking way. She looked back down again, and I felt a serious air of exhaustion ripple across the table.

  I hesitated a few moments, letting the air clear a bit. "...Seriously though. What's going on?"

  Kyla sighed melodramatically. She turned off her phone and put it away, then grabbed up a chicken fry and devoured it. "Happy?"

  "You push me, I push you," I said firmly. "If I were looking so screwed up right now, you'd be all over me. It's just us here," I added, glancing around. True enough, as nobody sat within two full tables of us at this hour. Reputation did wonders for our privacy.

  "It's stupid," said Kyla.

  Progress, at least. "Like I don't say something stupid every week?"

  "Every day," she shot back, but it came along with her trademark smirk. Kyla sighed again, this time for real. "Somebody won the lottery."

  "Oh…" I glanced at her phone myself. "Did you play it or something?"

  "Nah, I'm not eighteen yet. Nearly though." Kyla shook her head. "Somebody got mailed the winning lottery ticket. Anonymous, hundreds of millions. They're gonna be set for life. And here I'm thinking… what if, you know?"

  "Yeah," I nodded, while terrifying puzzle pieces were falling into place in the back of my mind.

  "Could get my own place, buy my own game store—hell, buy Drizzle and keep it alive." She shook her head in dismay. "I've got no actual skills, Noël. Nothing I'm good at, no book smarts. I'm a white trash C student and I'm gonna end up working some crap job til the day I die. That's the deck I got dealt. Unless I find an escape hatch or marry rich."

  "Said it yourself, you're a hot chick," I said. It sounded dumb the moment it passed through my lips, but Kyla smiled all the same. A sad smile, but hey, it was something.

  "Marry me, rich girl?"

  "Sorry, my heart's taken."

  She sighed again, back to the melodramatic. "Can't compete with the quiet intellectual beauty. Woe is me."

  "You're smart, Kyla," I said, trying to bring the tone back to serious. "You've got skills, they're just not translating to a career. You'll figure it out, I'm sure."

  "Whatever you say."

  The bell rang, and Kyla waved me off. I couldn't skip class too often to hang with her, as much as I didn't care for English class. To stave off the boredom of another long-dead writer's long-winded allegories, I dug out my phone and started searching for whatever story Kyla'd been reading. It wasn't national news or anything, but it did hit the local papers.

  A family of seven who'd fallen on hard times, and their lives changed forever when the youngest went out to check the mail that morning. They'd received a lottery ticket, postmarked the night before from across town. Nothing special about the story, it was a fluff piece, feel-goodery to break up the drudgery and keep people reading to the next political scandal or local drama.

  Nothing special, except I'd caused it. If I had any doubts, they were tossed out the window as I noticed the family's last name. They'd requested to remain anonymous, and the paper had respected their wishes, but the last name was still visible in the novelty check picture. Liebowicz. Same as Howard Liebowicz, who'd been at the Question with everyone when Rana took me there the first time.

  I'd just fulfilled someone's wish, without even realizing it. Howard must have wished to provide for his youngest relatives, or something else along those lines. I'd done that.

  Elated, I began digging up more stories, just to re-read my accomplishments. Yeah, it was orchestrated by the Commissioner and I didn't have a clue what I was doing, but so what? My actions made a struggling family rich. I was part of the chain of events, the butterfly flapping its wings to set off a hurricane or whatever.

  Another story caught my eye. The Oregonian, reporting a jumper off the Fremont. Someone had pulled their car to the side of the highway and just… jumped. No reported motivation, and a name with no apparent connections or importance. Except… that photo.

  I knew that man. I'd seen him the night before. Memories in my mind were suddenly recontextualized, snapping into place like building blocks. He hadn't been drunk and depressed. Those were tears of joy and relief. That man had just hit the same windfall, and I'd taken it away. Stolen and mailed it off without a second glance.

  Tears were welling up in my eyes now.

  That's not on you either, Noël.

  I ignored it. Yeah, I could consciously tell myself that. Just like someone who fell asleep at the wheel and drove into a young kid, or any other kind of accidental cause of death. Maybe I hadn't been aware of the consequences, but I'd stolen the ticket. That was on me.

  Guilt bubbled up in my chest, into my throat. I was having trouble breathing. Someone glanced over at me from the next desk, concerned. I ignored them. My mind was on fire. This wasn't right.

  I swapped over to my contacts list. My first instinct was to call Rana, but of course, I was in the middle of class and so was she. Even a text was off the table. I'd find her later.

  In the meantime…

  Noël: that was me, wasn't it? the Liebowiczes winning all that money?

  The Moderator: We each have our small part to play, Noël.

  Noël: but why couldn't they just have the money? why did

  Noël: why did he have to die

  The Moderator: I can no more explain the workings of the universe than yourself, my dear. Such answers are only understood to the Commissioner themself.

  Noël: i don't want to hurt people

  The Moderator: If you'd prefer, your debts can be forwarded.

  Noël: what?

  The Moderator: Working a penalty off is not the only means by which you might indemnify the League. You may also obtain clemency if you produce fresh aspirants.

  Noël: so… i get someone else to join the league, penalty goes away?

  The Moderator: Precisely.

  I sat back heavily in my chair. The desk squealed as it scooted over the linoleum. Everyone looked over at me. The current reader paused mid-sentence. Red-faced, I quickly stared into the book, trying to look like I'd been paying attention.

  So that was why people got added to the League. Work a penalty and potentially do something horrible, or bring someone else into the fold. I could see why someone would opt for the alternative, even if it meant adding more competition. I wondered how bad penalties could get. Mine hadn't required much direct action… what if someone's wish was for murder? Revenge?

  How had Wendy been healed?

  How would my parents be healed?

  I couldn't think about it. The Moderator had stated unequivocally that they could be resurrected, precisely as I wanted. I focused down on the book, thought in truth my eyes weren't seeing a word. My mind was forcing itself away from the images of the man jumping, away from what I might have caused.

  Another wish had just been fulfilled. Howard had done it. So could I. My parents were waiting, as long as I was willing.

  By the end of the weekend, I'd find my next duel.