Chapter Twelve

I wake up on Saturday at ten-thirty when Kashvi’s mom pounds on the door loud enough to wake up my parents at their house. I guess her family doesn’t usually sleep in late. We’d stayed up until twoa.m., but it was totally worth it. We watched rom-coms, and even an episode of BattleBots with Sanjiv, before lying in the dark and trading stories.

Kashvi gets her shower first and while I’m waiting, I look around at the jewelry on her desk. My eyes keep coming back to the dice earrings that I saw her wear the first day I met her. I hold them up to her when she comes back.

“Did you make these?”

She shakes her head. “No, I ordered them online, but I’ve always thought it would be fun to try to make my own.”

“Yeah? ’Cause I was looking at these and thinking how many things we could do with dice other than roll them. I bet we could make some really cool stuff.”

“I’ve seen some bracelets online.”

“Yes, exactly!” I grab my bag and fish through it until I find my dice. “I have a ton of dice I never actually use. It feels kind of inappropriate to sacrifice them, but otherwise they only sit in the bottom of a bag.” I hold up a four-sided die and turn it around in my fingers. “Any idea how to make the holes in these?”

She runs a hand through her wet hair and scrunches it to bring the curls out. “I don’t know, but we could ask Sanjiv.” She pokes her head out of the bedroom and calls down the hallway to him.

To my surprise, he comes bounding down the hallway a few seconds later. If I tried to beckon Andrew like that, I’d either be met with silence or cussing.

“What’s up?” he asks.

She holds up a die to him. “Do you have any tools that could drill a small hole in the center of this?”

“Are you trying to prank Mark? Because that’s just cruel. He has enough dice problems as it is.”

“No,” she says with an eye roll. “We’re making jewelry.”

He gives us an incredulous look. “I guess if you want to ruin perfectly good dice, then I’m not going to stop you. Hold on.” He comes back a few seconds later with an extremely small drill. He takes the die and starts messing with it. A few minutes later, he hands it back with a smug smile on his face.

“Done and done.”

“Why do you have tools like that?” I ask.

“For robotics.”

Kashvi hands it to me and I take a look. The hole is small enough that it doesn’t mar the look of the die, but big enough to be threaded with elastic or wire. This could actually work.

She rubs her hands together. “Okay, I’m officially excited now. Do you want to see how much we can get done before the game?”

“Yes. And let’s message Sloane to ask if they want to come over early? I don’t know if they’re into making jewelry, but maybe they’d want to hang out and crochet hats with us?”

“Perfect.”

It turns out that Sloane is very much open to it, and we make a little team of four around the table in the formal dining room. We form an assembly line where Sanjiv drills the holes, I thread the dice and beads onto stretchy elastic thread, and Kashvi knots the end and adds a dab of glue to keep them secure. Sloane crochets a scarf and throws in opinions on color selections for the jewelry. By the time we’ve finished, we already have seven bracelets, plus three sets of dangly dice earrings and one necklace. We sit back and take in our work.

“Looks pretty professional to me,” Kashvi says, and holds up one in the light of the brass chandelier to inspect it.

“I’d wear it all,” I reply.

“I’m not sure that’s a ringing endorsement,” Sloane says, and gestures to my wrists and chest. Fine, I may already be wearing a half dozen amethyst and rose quartz bracelets plus two long looping beaded necklaces, but that only means I’m the target client.

“What are you going to do with all this stuff?” Sanjiv asks. “Because if you’re selling it, I want a cut of the money.”

Kashvi and I glance at each other with a shrug.

“We could try selling it,” Kashvi says. “I paid way more money for these earrings than it cost to make them.”

“So…are we doing this?” I ask. “We’re going to try selling our crafts?”

“It’s probably going to be a ton of work for no profit,” Kashvi says.

Sanjiv holds up his tiny drill. “And we still need to negotiate my cut.”

But everyone is glancing around the table with excited smiles on their faces. More and more, they feel like friends instead of people I see for two hours a week when I pretend to be a dwarf. Real friends who want to hang out before games, and talk about horrible first dates, and do silly crafts together. I couldn’t care less about whether we make any money.

Mark arrives a few minutes later and is both horrified and intrigued when we describe our new endeavor to him. “You’re drilling holes in dice?!” He picks up a twenty-sided die we didn’t get around to using today. He rolls it across the table, and it comes up as a 19. “Huh, actually, maybe you have something here. I might need to try this.”

The front door opens and shuts again. Logan strolls in and my heart hammers despite my best attempts to be nonchalant. I watch his face for signs that something has changed between us, but he appears just the same as he was during our last game. “Whoa, what’s going on in here?”

Kashvi holds up one of the bracelets to him. “We’re starting our own business.”

“That’s adventurous. But we should probably get set up downstairs, right?”

We look at the time on our phones—it’s close to two already. We were so caught up we completely lost track of time.

“I have a good feeling about today,” Mark tells us as we get settled around the game table. “I think my rolls are going to be excellent.” He pretends to shake the dice in his hands. “It’s all in the wrist.”

“Do you want to try one of my sets? I have a lot with me—no holes in these, I promise.” I hold up a few bags. After some debate, I decided on iridescent blue ones for today.

“No!” He holds his fingers in a cross in front of him like I’m offering a grenade instead of new dice. “That’s bad luck. I carefully choose all my dice.”

“But…” I look around, exasperated. Kashvi shrugs and Sanjiv shakes his head subtly.

“Don’t try to reason with him. Just accept it and be at peace,” Logan tells me. He catches my gaze for a second, but it’s hard to read him. Which Logan has come to play today? The annoying one from the last game or the one whispering to me in my grandma’s attic?

It doesn’t matter either way, I remind myself. Once the game starts, I need to focus on the campaign, not on a boy. When Sloane calls us to attention, I’m ready.

“Welcome back, everyone, to the latest livestream of our campaign,” Sloane says into the camera. “If you remember, the players got themselves into a bit of a situation last time when they distracted the ship’s crewmates so much that the boat crashed and they were thrown into the sea.”

“And we lost our weapons,” Kashvi adds sadly.

“Yes, very sad,” Sloane says, looking anything but sad about this turn of events. “Although you reached your first experience milestone and now are Level 2, so everyone has more hit points and a new ability. We pick up the game with all of you washed up on the beach. You each wake up, soaking wet and disoriented.”

“Did any of the crew members from the ship make it to shore?” Logan asks.

“Three washed up on the beach with you but they haven’t woken yet.”

We all glance around at each other.

“We need to get as far away from them as possible,” Sanjiv says, gesturing to Kashvi. “No way are we being captured again when we need to find our father.”

“But I want my weapons. They might have washed up as well,” Kashvi argues.

“I should come with you!” Mark says, using his high Rolo voice. “What if he’s my father as well?”

Kashvi and Sanjiv frown in unison. “Why…would we share a father?” Kashvi’s character asks. “We don’t know each other and we’re nothing alike. You’re…”

“A halfling. But from the looks of it, you’re a half orc and you’re a half elf. I’m a halfling—don’t you see? We might all share the same relations. We could be siblings!”

“That’d make you half siblings,” I reply as Nasria.

Logan cracks a smile. His attention flickers to me for a moment and then away. Either he’s trying very hard not to interact with me during the game, or it only feels that way because I’m too aware of him.

He clears his throat. “While this family reunion is very touching—”

“We’re not family, though—” Sanjiv argues.

“—I think we should decide on our next course of action. I agree with Lynx. I don’t think it’s wise to be here when the crew wakes up. We should search for the nearest town, get some food, and ask the locals what they might know about this ship and its owners.”

“But we have the upper hand right now,” I argue. “We should get information from the crew before we leave. I want to know why we were captured and put on the boat, and the crew will clearly know more than people living in a village.”

I expect Logan to retort immediately. Instead he lifts one shoulder in a shrug, still avoiding my eyes. Because we sit across from each other, he has to angle himself awkwardly toward Sloane and the others to do that. “If that’s what the rest of the group wants. I’ll only point out that we’re unarmed and Level 2.”

“I’m not leaving without my weapons,” Kashvi repeats fiercely. “They’re elven made and priceless.”

Sanjiv rolls his eyes. “Nothing is priceless. Especially when we’re back in prison again.”

“Then we’ll use my priceless weapons to bargain for our release.”

“While the party discusses, one of the crew members shifts and moans,” Sloane interjects, and mimics the sound.

“We can take ’em!” Mark cries. “Wait until you see how fast I can hack and slash!” Everything about Mark changes when he’s playing Rolo. Usually he seems like a pretty chill guy with sloth-like vibes. But as Rolo he practically bounces in his chair with excitement.

“Fine, I’m nonconfrontational, but I’ll agree with my half sister…and possible half brother,” Sanjiv says. “I’m casting a skill bonus on each of us so we can search for our equipment.”

There’s a flash of frustration on Sloane’s face when Kashvi’s roll is successful. “All right, Lasla, you see the chest of weapons. However, it’s far down the beach and the waves are washing it back out into the ocean. Given the distance, none of you will be able to get to it in time.”

“Then we should depart before the crew wakens,” Logansays.

Kashvi and Mark groan, but I’m busy flipping through the manual in front of me. “Wait,” I say. “I want to use my new movement spell to get me to the chest before any of the other players can.”

Sloane meets my eye, and I can see the emotions warring in their expression. Clearly they had another plan for the campaign, but they also know I’m not wrong. I should probably let it go, but I still feel like I’m proving my worth in this group. I want to get those weapons back for Kashvi.

“A hill dwarf is going to sprint down the beach faster than the rest of us?” Logan says in his haughty character voice. “I’ve never heard of a dwarf who could move that fast.”

“Just because you don’t have moves doesn’t mean I don’t.”

The others chuckle and I keep my focus on Sloane. After another moment, they shake their head. “Fine, yes, you use your spell to bolt down the beach so fast you kick sand in the faces of the rest of your party. You do reach the chest and manage to pull it out of the waves.”

“Lasla races after Nasria like she’s seeing the love of her life,” Kashvi says. “My swords! My babies, my loves. ” She mimes hugging the nonexistent swords. I love the commitment to character.

“I’m your brother, Lasla,” Sanjiv says, “and I’ve never gotten that kind of embrace.”

“You’re my half brother and you don’t shine like the sun after polishing.” She rubs her hands together. “Now that we have our weapons, how about we go question a few sailors about their intentions?”

“At that moment, you all hear screaming coming from the jungle. A dozen men, dressed in matching uniforms with swords at their sides come onto the beach,” Sloane tells us. “You!” Sloane’s voice drops lower to mimic a soldier’s voice. “Stop right there, by order of King Thalun!”

“Well, that didn’t go as planned,” Kashvi mumbles after we log off.

“Not as you planned,” Logan replies, his gaze cutting to Sloane. “I think it went exactly the way Sloane was planning.”

They grin and shrug innocently. “No comment.”

It turns out Logan/Adris might have been correct about escaping while we could. Our group put up quite a fight, but we were no match for the soldiers. Now we’ve been arrested again and taken to this king’s palace for sentencing. I was twitchy with guilt by the time the game ended since I was the one who insisted we interrogate the crew. Plus, I went against Sloane to get our equipment back. I wouldn’t blame the others for being pissed, but everyone seems surprisingly chill about it.

“Remember that Natural 20 I rolled before they got me?” Kashvi asks the group with a self-satisfied grin. “One hit and I sent that soldier flying into the ocean!”

“Hey, don’t forget me,” Mark says. “Halfling fighters are no joke.”

“Your character is so weird,” Sanjiv says.

“People don’t watch us for boring characters.”

He shrugs. “Do you all have to get home or can you stay longer?” Sanjiv asks. “We don’t have anyplace to be today, and we still have some pizza in the fridge.”

I glance around to see what the others are thinking. Personally, I’d love to hang out more. I know if I go home right now, I’ll be put on packing, painting, or cleaning duty. Mom and Dad didn’t have any plan when we got here, so there’s still plenty to do at the house despite being moved in for three weeks.

“I can stay longer,” I reply.

“Maybe we could make a list of shops in town where we might be able to sell our stuff?” Kashvi asks.

“I’m good to stay,” Sloane says.

“I gotta go, but definitely next time,” Mark says.

“Me too,” Logan says. “Dad wants me back to help with some chores at home.”

We all walk upstairs together, partially to see Mark and Logan out and partially because we want to raid the kitchen for more snacks. Kashvi’s parents are saints to let so many teenagers into their house every weekend. The others get caught up debating whether to make butter or cheddar popcorn, and I notice Logan hovering in the hall by the front door. I need to leave him alone, but that’s harder than it should be.

“Sorry your dad is making you work this afternoon.”

He glances down at his shoes and then back up at me with a rueful smile. “Don’t tell the others, but I made that up. Though I’m sure he’ll find something for me to do around the farm when I get home.”

“You made it up?” I ask with a frown. “Why?”

“Well, you know, the rules. Even if sometimes I slip and don’t follow them.”

I shake my head, at a loss for words. He’s making up excuses to stay away from me?

“You don’t need to do that. These are your friends—you can stay and hang out with them if you want.”

He takes a step back from me. “It’s really okay, Quinn. Don’t worry about it. I see them every day at school, and you don’t.”

“But—”

“It’s just an afternoon.” He reaches for one of the dice bracelets I’m wearing from this afternoon, his fingers grazing the skin on the inside of my wrist as he does. I suck in a breath, and he pulls his hand away. “The bracelets are a goodidea.”

Then he turns and walks out the door.