Chapter 3 — Starlight

  Rana el-Yassin could book it when she wanted to.

  I was having trouble keeping up, and it didn't help that I had an easily-distracted Kyla in tow. Thankfully, Rana's distinct headscarf was easy to spot even down a crowded city street. More importantly, she wasn't exactly trying to run from us. I doubted she had a clue we'd followed her—even with Kyla's grumbling.

  "I was about to win, too…" Kyla muttered.

  "You did win. I conceded."

  She shook her head. "That's not the same! So much less satisfying."

  "I'll let you beat me up next time," I said, too distracted to give her much attention. Rana had just entered a parking garage. She might lose me in an instant if I fell too far behind. I broke into a jog.

  Kyla groaned. She struggled to keep up, but she just wasn't really in shape like I was—all credit to my morning run. I tried to keep her in sight, but soon enough, I was rounding the corner myself. The parking garage opened up before me, a cavern of shadows compared to the bright sunny day we'd just left. I blinked hard, trying to force my vision down to where I could make out Rana's silhouette.

  She was going into the stairwell—going down, even though there weren't any public parking levels below this one. I hurried to follow.

  Rana said she had a match, right? Where was she going? There weren't real big tournaments for this game, according to Kyla. Nothing super organized, just local game shop stuff. So what was this…?

  As I entered the dank, poorly lit stairwell, scents of the city threatened to overwhelm me. This was not a pleasant place to be. It was totally at odds with Rana's nature, at least from the little I knew of her. What were we doing here?

  Why was I following her?

  Paranoia again, Noël. You don't know her at all. There could be any number of totally reasonable explanations here. Leave her alone and go back to the friend you do have.

  Except I couldn't. There were too many coincidences and oddities piling up. I hadn't imagined them staring at me all class, or Reylon giving me a cryptic warning, or Rana covering for me on the first day of class when I hadn't spoken a single word to her before. Something was definitely up.

  I stepped over the utility chain blocking off the lower staircase and started down. Every step, faint voices grew a little clearer. One of them was Rana, the other a middle-aged man—and definitely not Reylon. The obvious sprung to mind, but I just couldn't see that for Rana. Then again, how much did I really know about other people and how they handled it? I hadn't really had a single friend for all the years I even knew sex was a thing.

  No, they were just talking. Discussing… something. The match? I crept closer and closer, reaching the bottom of the staircase and a hallway opening up to a wide-open space, with just a few utilities and other machinery laid out in clusters across the room. Seated in folding chairs under a naked lightbulb, a cheap table holding all the cards between them, sat Rana and her opponent.

  I kept moving forward. There were enough pillars between me and them, and plenty of shadows cast by the few lights in the area, that I doubted I'd be seen. I tended to dress pretty dark, and after so many runs, my skin had a nice tan, so I didn't stand out quite so much from the empty black shadows. Soon, I'd closed the gap enough to catch their words.

  "...and I'll strike Hargang Coliseum," said Rana calmly.

  The guy sounded aghast. He faced away from me, so I couldn't catch his expression, but I imagined he was flabbergasted. "You want to go dangerous? You crazy?"

  "The Battle of the Belt or the Korsikov Launch Bay," she replied, totally unfazed. "Your turn to ban."

  "Damn…" The guy shook his head. "Dangerous or a guaranteed loss… I strike Korsikov."

  A pause as he set the unused dueling grounds cards aside. Rana bowed her head as they finished preparing the game.

  "Bismillahir rahmanir raheem," she murmured, just barely loud enough for me to make out. She closed her eyes.

  I crept slightly closer, curious to see the game, but worried they might spot me. How on earth was I going to explain following Rana down into this place to watch her play a game of Riposte? Scratch that, how the hell were they going to explain it?

  A moment later, those questions all became moot.

  Rushing sounds filled the room—or not a rushing sound, almost a sucking sound. It was like the entire world was swirling away from us. Mind bending visuals began to accompany the noise. The parking garage seemed to ripple in mid-air, before shifting into a kaleidoscope of light and color. I could barely see anything, lost in the rush and the wind, deafened by the hurtling wind filling my whole world.

  They were still there. The table, the chairs, Rana and her opponent, all floating in a barrage of colors. I locked onto them, an anchor for my bewildered vision. As I did, Rana's eyes, twinkling stars in the darkest night, shot up to match my own.

  The pillar I'd been crouched behind was long gone. Her mouth dropped open slightly, but she quickly caught herself. Her eyes locked back onto her opponent, masking the slip.

  She didn't want me to reveal myself.

  I gave a quick nod, and Rana visibly sagged a little in relief. Moments later, she tensed up again as the kaleidoscope and the rushing wind faded out. The light show was gone. Instead, we seemed to be inside Rana's eyes, a black void full of stars stretching out in every direction, flecks of color sneaking into the margins.

  ...Hang on, no, we were in space.

  I was no longer crouching behind a stone pillar in the utility level of a parking garage in downtown Portland, 2032, a city I hadn't left once since I was born, barring the brief day trip to the beach or two. No, I was suddenly on the deck of a massive spaceship, looking out the thick glass windows to an asteroid-filled void, impossibly huge.

  Bright green flashes! A spaceship swung by, followed by another locked on to the first. Utterly silent to us locked inside the ship, but a rumble juddered through the hull nonetheless, and I definitely felt that. An explosion blossomed deep in the open void. There was a battle going on outside the ship, and we were caught in the middle.

  At the table—which had morphed into an elegant metal attachment built into the deck plating—Rana was now accompanied by a tall man in a military dress uniform, pistol at his side and a faint blue glow surrounding his body. He looked elegant, refined… and ready to blow somebody's head off.

  I squinted. He sure seemed real.

  More importantly, I recognized him. Norad Kelso, one of the duelists Kyla had shown me earlier. Except now he, a fictional character, was standing about thirty feet from where I crouched.

  I was either going insane, or I'd just figured out the big secret behind Rana and Reylon. Or both.

  Stay focused, Noël. You haven't figured out anything yet.

  Another rumble through the hull as a dogfighting pair rushed by the starboard windows. Rana and her opponent were making their first moves. Norad was up against someone I recognized as well, though not from the cards.

  A towering figure in a dark, ragged cloak, with arms that looked like twisted meat and metal all wrapped up together, ending in a set of wicked-sharp claws. Even its feet were sharp claws—and anybody who'd seen the movie knew that the Clawing Hunger didn't care which it walked on.

  I shuddered. This depiction looked far more realistic than the budget horror movie… and equally deadly. If it turned my way, I'd be sprinting for the exit.

  ...Speaking of which…

  There was none. I'd scanned the whole deck of the ship, wherever we were, and there didn't seem to be a single open door to anywhere. The only obvious way out was if I wanted to break a window and take a walk through the void. I wasn't that crazy, not with how realistic everything else felt.

  You're in space, and they're about to play a card game. Neither of them seem the least bit surprised by this.

  Suddenly, both Norad and the Hunger sprung into action. The Hunger leapt forward, swiping, but Norad had dodged away. With the opening, he spun around and planted a few bursts of his laser pistol directly in the monster's chest. It winced and roared, before returning to its position beside its master.

  What proceeded was the most bizarre fight I've ever witnessed. It took place in fits and spurts, with the two duelists eyeing each other up—plus the occasional snarl from the Hunger—between each burst of violence. As the claws slashed, Norad's blood spilled across the deck. His gun punched holes in the Hunger's chest and cloak, though the real monsters underneath quickly filled in the gaps of its unnatural flesh.

  After several bouts, I was finally getting into the rhythm of it, though I couldn't make out the cards they were playing. Rana seemed to be winning—not by much, as Norad was panting and bleeding profusely, but winning nonetheless. Then, at the end of the sixth bout, I realized why the guy was so reluctant to play on a dangerous ground.

  The ship's klaxons began to blare. Red alert lights flashed along the starboard side—across the room from me, to be clear. My eyes snapped up to the window, just in time to see a ship crash headlong into the armor plating.

  Orange flames rippled across the glass. The entire ship shuddered and bucked. Engines whined and mechanisms groaned as they compensated for the impact. I was thrown off my feet, nearly cracking my head into the wall behind me. Meanwhile at the table, Rana had slammed the deck, while the guy looked winded but stayed upright. Outside, more ships were flying in, and the ship shuddered once more as a dogfight pair blew past.

  Not a single card had moved. Not even a millimeter.

  I scrambled back into my hiding place as Rana climbed back into her chair. She said something about the danger penalty, and the guy nodded. He was breathing heavily, while Rana—despite falling—seemed far more at ease with the growing danger. I noticed that the Hunger seemed much more unstable than Norad, when after the last bout it had still looked ready to rumble.

  This is why she wanted to duel here.

  I was catching on to the nuance, and my respect for Rana grew. She was willing to throw herself headlong into danger for the advantage in the fight. I was afraid of that attitude, but I admired it a lot too.

  From there, the duel got slower. Rana seemed to be building up to something. Norad kept holding back, either firing a zoning shot or simply nothing at all. Meanwhile, the Hunger kept missing its strikes, only landing one for the whole next set of five bouts.

  By the end of the twelfth, and the stress on both of their faces, I could guess what was coming next. I braced myself against the bulkhead, preparing for the worst, watching the windows high above to see where the impact would land.

  As it turned out, neither. Instead, the entire ship groaned and keeled to one side, tilting the whole place to an uncomfortable angle. A horrible grating noise filled the whole room, and I saw sparks flying out the port window as the ship swung wide. We'd crashed into an asteroid.

  Another round of klaxons screamed. Fire exploded through one of the forward walls, reaching out like an angry demon toward the two players. Blast doors slammed shut, choking the flames. Even from across the room, I felt the wave of heat crash over me—I could only imagine the blistering heat engulfing them. Smoke began to rise as automatic extinguishers whistled to life.

  You should probably get out of here…

  Except there was nowhere to go. All I could see were walls, or the hole through which a giant fireball had just blown. I doubted that was any safer than here. So long as Rana sat at the table, I figured this room was the safest place to be.

  Rana smiled, sweat beading on her forehead. I tensed, wondering what was coming next. She played her card from her tilted seat, and likewise, her opponent seemed hesitant. It took him several painstaking moments to lay down his own. I'd noticed they never actually flipped them. Instead, it seemed to happen all on its own, their duelists acting out the actions they'd determined.

  The Hunger sprung forward, claws extended, in the most reckless attack I'd seen yet. A charge, definitely. Norad wasn't moving, and I winced at the expected blow—until he wasn't there anymore.

  The admiral vanished in a blink of blue light, suddenly reappearing behind the still-moving Hunger. He drew his laser pistol, aimed right at the back of the thing's head, and pulled the trigger.

  The blast seemed more deafening than anything yet, echoing off the deck plating in every direction. As it subsided, I realized why: all the sounds had stopped. The alarm klaxons were gone, the extinguishers and smoke had dissipated, and the dogfights slowed to their initial background noise. We seemed to have reset.

  ROUND ONE: NORAD KELSO.

  The voice, which wasn't really a voice and made no actual sound, seemed to fill my entire body from toes to temples. Ever had that chill that gets through your whole skin, like when you hear something beautiful for the first time, or read the best part of a really great book, or watch that incredible scene from a movie? Frisson, it's called. That's what this felt like, whole-body frisson on command, induced by this huge voice from nowhere. All-encompassing, invigorating and absolutely thrilling to feel.

  Whatever it was, I knew right away—I wanted to hear that voice calling out my wins someday.

  ***

  Only four bouts into the second round, I could tell Rana was far better than her opponent. She'd figured him out, playing the perfect counter to every move he tried to make. The battle outside didn't get nearly as terrifying as the first round, though we did get some variety—a gun run to port side causing huge dents in the armor plating, instead of the ship crash. I got a bit banged up, while Rana's head slammed into the table at the impact.

  Instead, the most interesting thing to happen was when Rana played a combo, which I think was supposed to be an airstrike by a futuristic fighter jet, or something. It didn't make a whole lot of sense inside the ship, but a wide hatch at the top opened, the fighter flew in and strafed the Hunger, and out it went through the opposite wall.

  Unlike the arena itself, the fighter's attack didn't really phase us much. It was muted, almost like the TV version of the effect compared to the terrifying reality of the arena and the two duelists. I felt another wave of heat flash through me, along with a concussive wave that buffeted the three of us, but nothing too extreme. I half-expected us to be exposed to the vacuum outside, but there seemed to be some kind of force field keeping atmosphere. Oxygen was plentiful… for now.

  I wondered if we could actually die here.

  The strafing run did a serious number on the Hunger. Rana followed it up with several vicious attacks. It was limping hard, favoring one leg heavily, and one of its arms hung totally dead. Norad, meanwhile, stood tall in perfect health, the previous round's injuries already healed and scarred over.

  Rana glanced up at her opponent expectantly. He was grinding away at his teeth, glaring at his cards like they'd betrayed him—I'd realized I could make out his face through the reflections on the upper deck windows.

  "Do you concede?" she asked, in a beautifully patient tone for the chaos all around us. We'd just passed the twelfth bout. The aft of the ship was burning, rolled to the side without anti-gravity keeping up. Our entire world sat at an angle, with metal creaking ominously all over. My arm was bruised from slamming against the bulkhead at a bad angle. I hoped he would just say yes and get us out of here already… assuming that's how it worked. Hell if I knew, this was all very new to me.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Another explosion from aft rocked the hull. We all flinched in unison.

  Rana's opponent sagged in his chair. The guy could go one more round if he wanted, but it was obvious to everybody in the room that Rana had him pegged. He wasn't going to win no matter how many rounds he got, and the ship wasn't getting any safer. Slowly, he flipped a card on his side face down.

  "I concede," he said, frustration laced in every syllable.

  Again, the klaxons stopped, the noise stopped, and I awaited the voice.

  NORAD KELSO HAS WON THE DUEL.

  I had only a moment to catch a hint of Rana's victorious smile and nod to her duelist before the kaleidoscope returned. A falling sensation spread through my bones, as if I'd just fallen off a cliff. I closed my eyes, awaiting the crash back to reality.

  With a whoosh and a thump, we were back—and so was the smell, as the parking garage slid back into view. I was still crouched behind the pillar, while Rana and her opponent sat at the table. She began to pack up her cards, and he did the same. I could see frustration slowly building though, the rage threatening to bubble over.

  Rana was still in danger, and she seemed totally oblivious to it.

  I didn't have anything that could help. It wasn't like I carried weapons around in my normal life. I might be rapidly revising that policy, if things like this were going to keep happening, but at that moment, the closest thing I had to a weapon was a nail file.

  Rana was taking much longer than she needed to clean up. It was obviously deliberate. I waited, but to my shock, nothing happened. The guy finished packing his cards and left. Not a word, not a move toward her. He didn't notice me either, just headed straight out, up the stairs, and back to the real world.

  With the stranger out of the way, I finally stood up. Brushing myself off, I walked out into the open, where Rana was just finishing packing her cards neatly away.

  "...So," I started, utterly at a loss for words.

  "Hello Noël," said Rana, perfectly calm as she placed the two boxes of cards back into her own bag. Only Norad remained, which she carefully placed in a special pocket on the front. "I'm sorry you got caught up in that."

  "In that." I shook my head in painful bemusement. "I just saw a monster from the movie I snuck into years ago go head to head with a space admiral in the middle of an asteroid belt. You know, that."

  "Exciting, wasn't it?" she asked. Sincerely, no less. I had no idea how to react to that.

  "...Congrats, I guess," I said, a bit uncomfortable. "On the win."

  "Alhamdo lillah." Rana's face finally lifted up to face me, her eyes twinkling just slightly. There was blood on her face. Not a lot, to be clear—just some very visible bits of splatter. Thing was, that splatter came from Norad.

  "You know you've got… uhh," I muttered, gesturing vaguely at her. "Some Norad on your face."

  "Oh!" Rana pulled out a tissue and compact from her bag. She neatly cleaned the blood off. "Thank you. I try to check just before I leave, in case anything comes back with us. Usually, though, I don't have an audience."

  "So…" I said again, trailing off. "Are you going to, you know, explain?"

  "Well, I wanted to tell you before you stumbled into a game, but I guess you followed me. Am I wrong?"

  I winced, my cheeks flaring up. She'd drawn the obvious—and correct—conclusion.

  Rana smiled. "It's all right. I mean, it is a little creepy…"

  "Sorry," I mumbled.

  "I forgive you. Truth is, having some backup was nice." She shrugged, and gestured back toward the card table and the empty chairs. "This is the League."

  Despite everything I'd just seen, or maybe because of the absurdity of it all, I burst out laughing. Rana looked puzzled, but not offended or anything, to my relief. I calmed myself quickly enough. "Sorry… it just… that all looks kinda pathetic now. After what I just saw."

  Rana smiled. "You're right, it does. This isn't the only place we play. Technically, it can be anywhere, as long as we have space to lay down cards. This is just a convenient spot, since almost nobody ever comes here, and we won't get interrupted. It lets us finish a game in peace, so to speak."

  "...What would happen if you did? Get interrupted, I mean."

  "Anybody walking up would just see us playing the game, without the spectacle." She frowned. "But we wouldn't have the first clue they were there. Once, I came back to a friend practically shouting in my ear trying to get my attention. I don't know what would happen if somebody tried to interfere. I'm not sure it's ever been tried."

  "Not exactly something you wanna experiment with either, I'm guessing."

  "Definitely not," Rana nodded. "The game coming to life was as much as a shock the first time as you're probably feeling now. No one ever explained how it works to me, either. All I can really tell you about is the League itself, if you're interested."

  "This all happens if you join it, I'm guessing?" I asked, glancing around. "Because I played a round earlier today, and I stayed right here on good old planet Earth."

  "The old game's underwhelming now, isn't it?" Rana glanced up at the ceiling, which had so recently contained the depths of space, massive asteroids, distant nebulas—a majestic vista, to be sure. I would have enjoyed it a lot more if I hadn't been so busy fearing for my life. "The League makes it real, yes, but the spectacle's not why it's important."

  "So it's like… a tournament? And how'd I get pulled in anyway?"

  "You were close by when we started, and you were watching us. If somebody weren't paying attention and wandered near, nothing would happen. As for a tournament… sort of," said Rana, frowning slightly. "It's more… a membership. A ladder, maybe, if you're familiar with that from sports."

  "Esports, sure." I shrugged. "So, it's long-term and you play for ranking?"

  "In a very simplified sense, yes. But we do not play for rank—we duel for the prize."

  Rana's eyes glinted with something like desire, a deep longing I recognized as akin to my own—that impossible dream you dare not let free because you know it can never be fulfilled. I didn't understand why it had shown itself in that moment, nor how I recognized it so clearly, but there wasn't a doubt in my mind. Rana wanted something, and it was tied to the League somehow.

  And I had a feeling I was about to find out why.

  "If you can reach the prize, you're granted a wish."

  I blinked. Rana seemed quite serious, but I couldn't bring myself to entertain the possibility just yet. Maybe if I just kept her talking… "A wish? Like—"

  "Like a wish. The power to change yourself, change the world, become rich and powerful, anything. Precisely as it sounds."

  Careful, Noël… Don't go down that road. You don't know if this is real or not. The game turning real is one thing, but a wish…

  "There's gotta be a catch," I said slowly.

  "There is," she replied, and I practically sighed with relief. Rana smiled at my reaction. "Not so limiting as you might think. The wish must be… for lack of a better term, self-centered."

  "Huh?"

  "You can't change the world, as that's too far beyond yourself. Wishing for riches, though, is definitely possible. We know for certain one of the recent billionaires out there is a winner from the League." Rana glanced at the stairwell behind me, a vague hint of paranoia crossing her smooth features. "Or to be healed—there was a wheelchair-bound winner who is now an Olympic sprinter. The less the world must change to account for your desire, the more possible your wish."

  "How many?" I asked, a little breathless. The possibility kept dancing in the back of my mind, but still, I couldn't let it become a proper thought. Not yet.

  She shrugged. "Who knows? It's not like we all know each other. I was invited by somebody, who got invited by somebody else, so on. It's all word-of-mouth."

  "No kidding. How on earth does the internet not know about this?"

  "Well…" Rana glanced away. "It's against the rules to reveal the League, except like this."

  I felt a chill run down my spine. Soon, I was glancing at the stairwell, as if the Hunger were about to burst out and claw me to death. Something about the way Rana said "the rules" really didn't bode well for my future.

  "What's 'like this'?" I asked finally, turning back to her.

  "Explaining it to a potential new player," she said, and the small smile returned to her face. "Since you've already found out anyway… well, it was my responsibility as a League member to explain the rules and make the offer to induct you. It's not required though, to be clear. If you don't want to join, you're free to walk away. Just…" Rana trailed off a little. "Don't ever talk about the League to anybody who's not a member. You wouldn't want a visit from the Enforcer."

  "...Uh-huh," I muttered. "Definitely not." I glanced around, as new visions of the Enforcer—a vague, shapeless monster stalking the edge of my imagination—filled the empty shadows of the room. "What's it take to join?"

  "An invite, a commitment, and a wish. You've got the first now, and the second is in your pocket," Rana added, glancing at my jacket, "if you're happy with her."

  "With what now?"

  "When joining the League, you make a commitment," said Rana. She pulled Norad from the special pocket on the front of her bag. "To your duelist. Whomever you select is with you, from start to finish. You can never change, as far as I know."

  "And you selected Norad?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Besides the starlight thing, which so far as I knew was a metaphor in my head alone, I didn't exactly see how she related to the space admiral.

  Rana sighed. "No… my inviter didn't explain that part. I happened to have Norad at the time I met the Moderator, and we… ended up together." She glanced at the card, and a smile returned to her face. "He's been an excellent partner nonetheless. Thank you, Norad. I promise I'll do better next time."

  She's talking to her card now, Noël… That's never a good sign and you know it.

  Maybe, except that her card just literally came to life. She wiped his blood off her face a couple minutes ago. Missed a little, too. I could easily excuse some talking-to-inanimate-objects here.

  "And the wish?" I asked.

  Her face flushed, and she turned away a little. "That's personal…"

  "Oh, crap," I said, shaking my head. "No, I wasn't asking for yours. I just meant… you said it was a requirement."

  "Yes," said Rana. She gathered herself for a moment before looking up at me again. "You must have a wish before you meet with the Moderator. You can't join the League without one."

  It sounded too good to be true. Something had to be off here, but I still wasn't sure what. "Hate to ask again, but… there's gotta be a catch."

  "You saw one catch just now," said Rana, glancing back at the table. "Some of the dueling grounds are… not exactly safe."

  "Wait, could we have…" I shook my head, exasperated. Sure, I'd considered it in the moment, but now we were back on solid ground… "No way."

  "I had to come up with a convincing explanation for a burn I got from the Deathbot Factory," said Rana, rubbing a spot on her arm. "My mother wasn't very happy about it."

  My eyes widened. I could make out some real skin damage. "Holy crap."

  "I am not sure if we can die, but I don't plan to find out."

  "Good plan," I muttered, and Rana smiled again. "So… there's the Enforcer and the Moderator. Anybody else in the gang?"

  "They both talk about the Commissioner, but I've never seen anyone like that." Rana shrugged. "The League runs itself, from what I can tell. If you find somebody who's a member—they call us 'aspirants', but I've never heard anybody else use that term—you can challenge them."

  "And they can't refuse?"

  "They can if they want," said Rana. "But why would you? The only way to get your wish is to keep winning, and win against a lot of different opponents. Everybody knows that. Refusing would be a major lost opportunity."

  Not a lot of specifics… She's not making any of it up, but you know she doesn't know the whole story either. She might be new to this. Somebody's gotta be running the show.

  "What about losing? What if you lose too many times?"

  She shrugged. "Maybe you're out. I'm not really sure. I've never lost before."

  Rana had casual bragging down pat. I was impressed… and a little intimidated.

  My phone buzzed. A text from Carolyn, asking if I would please give her advance notice when I needed a ride home, as she had to run a few errands. I realized that a whole hour had gone by since I entered the parking garage. More importantly… I hadn't come here alone.

  "Oh, crap," I muttered. "Kyla."

  "Hm?" asked Rana, packing Norad carefully away once more. "What about her?"

  "I came here with her. But she didn't… I didn't see her when we were… whatevering. The crazy light show."

  "Transitioning," said Rana. She shrugged again. "At least, that's what I call that part." Rana glanced up at the ceiling. "Maybe she's upstairs?"

  Without another word, I ran for the staircase. I felt like a terrible person—my first chance at a friend here, and I'd ditched her on a random street corner downtown to chase after a conspiracy theory in my head. Didn't matter that the theory turned out to be true… that was still a crappy thing to do to a friend.

  "Kyla?" I called as I reached the street level. "Kyla?"

  "About time!" she shouted. I rounded the corner to see her sitting on the corner, reading a book. She set it down, raising her eyebrows. "You were down there?"

  "Err… yes," I said, glancing over my shoulder at the stairwell. "Sorry, I was—"

  "I couldn't find you, and I figured, well, this was the last place you were, I'd just call you." Kyla rolled her eyes. "Then I realized, hey, we never gave each other the digits. So, you know, shot that plan to pieces. So I just plopped myself down on the curb and waited. Didn't think you were in the basement!"

  "Something… something happen—" I started, but I was cut off.

  "Hello, Kyla," said Rana, emerging a few steps behind me.

  Kyla dropped the book onto the pavement. "Uhh…"

  She just had to follow me up… made explaining everything so much harder. I could have just made up anything. I wasn't supposed to talk about the League around Kyla—against the rules since I wasn't a member. Aspirant. Whatever. I wasn't gonna find out what happened if I broke them.

  "Thank you for everything, Noël," Rana added. She pulled out her phone and tapped it against mine, adding her contact details. "If you want an introduction, don't hesitate to ask."

  "...Do I have time to think about it?" I asked, hoping it was vague enough that Kyla wouldn't pick up on anything.

  "Of course, as long as you need." Rana smiled, before adjusting her headscarf slightly and reshouldering her bag. "Fee amaan Allah."

  She left, leaving us both staring after her. I assumed that was a farewell, but I hadn't the first clue about Arabic, Islam, or anything related. After she finally rounded the corner at the end of the street and disappeared, I looked back to Kyla.

  "So that wasn't…" I started, before realizing there was no possible way I could explain what had just happened, even with a lie, in the short amount of time I had. Excitable Kyla wasn't exactly going to give me a chance to come up with something reasonable.

  "No worries," said Kyla, a smirk brimming across her face. "Had your first fling already! That's gotta be a record for the new kid in town, right? First day?"

  "What?" I said, face flushing red. "That isn't— I wasn't—"

  "Ha-hah!" Kyla leapt to her feet, once again crowing with victory. "Gotcha. Rana's straight as an arrow. Hoo, the look on your face," she added, cackling. "They're gonna have to come up with a new name for that shade of red."

  Embarrassment turned over to annoyance. Kyla's laugh was driving me mad—until it wasn't. She'd done it in good-natured fun, without anybody else around to hear. This wasn't spreading rumors or causing a scene, like I was used to. No, this was just the two of us, hanging out, teasing each other like friends.

  Well, Noël, I think you are friends. Congratulations.

  "Time to get your number, before you get lost again," said Kyla, the cackle still not quite leaving her voice. "I'm straight too, before you start crushing on me."

  I rolled my eyes as she tapped my phone, passing her details along. All three in hand, I sent off a few texts—one to Rana, letting her know my number, a return jab at Kyla that she wasn't good enough for me anyway, and finally a message to Carolyn, letting her know where I was. I held off on the last one for a second, glancing over at Kyla.

  "Hey," I asked, as she carefully marked her place and put away her book. "Want a ride home?"

  "Huh?" she asked, as if she'd never even heard of the concept before. It took a few moments before she pulled together an answer. "Nah, I don't live that far away. It's nice out, I'm gonna enjoy it while it lasts before we get more stupid rain."

  "You don't like rain?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "Yeah, I'm the one dang Portlander who doesn't," said Kyla with a sigh. "You guys are the weird ones. Don't you know the sun is good for you? It's like a giant friendly space laser, it literally makes you happier."

  "Isn't that the vita—"

  "Yes it's the vitamin D," she interrupted, now visibly annoyed. "Which the sun helps out with. So, ipso facto, space laser equals happy." She pulled on her backpack and started skipping down the street—no joke, skipping. "See you around, grasshopper!"

  I shook my head, amazed. After Kyla, too, disappeared, I sat down and sent the text to Carolyn, with my location attached. To my relief, she was only a few minutes away. Every time I glanced behind me into the garage, I half-expected the Hunger to leap out, claws ready to go.

  Fictional character, Noël. Fictional.

  What's fiction anymore, really? If practically every big series is in Riposte, and Riposte makes things real in its dueling grounds…

  Carolyn rolled up before I got too deep into the philosophical musings. The door popped open all on its own. She asked the usual questions—how my day was, if I needed anything, if there were any stops I wanted to make before we went home.

  I very nearly declined, but at the last moment, even as Carolyn started pulling out onto the street fully expecting my "no", I changed my mind. If this League was real, and if I were going to take it seriously, then I needed to practice. I needed to plan. Most of all, I needed to learn.

  "There's a game store called Drizzle," I said. "Just a few blocks from here. I need to pick something up."

  "Sounds good, Miss Súileabhán," said Carolyn, pulling neatly around in the empty street and heading back the other direction.

  A few minutes later, I had a set of Riposte decks in my hands, and my pocket change was a little bit lighter. I wasn't exactly sure why I'd paid in cash, instead of using the credit card Lloyd kept amply stocked for me, but given the secrecy of the League it just made sense. I kept it inside the brown paper bag as I got back in the car, out of Carolyn's sight.

  As we drove home, I leaned against the window of the car, watching the unfamiliar downtown scenery. The ride was smooth and fast, as to be expected from such a nice car. Still, as I closed my eyes, my vision was replaced with the ship deck, metal plating in every direction, the space fighters flitting by, and the infinite void stretching out in every direction. No matter what, it stayed behind my eyelids, waiting for me to return—as it knew I would.

  The specters of my lost parents loomed in the endless gleaming starlight, waiting.