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Will’s hand smothered whatever I was about to say. He spoke in a voice a parent might use to a toddler. “We’re going to play a game, okay?”
My eyes popped wide, and I nodded, mumbling, “Yay. I love games.” It came out so garbled and muffled that no one could understand me. So I said it again.
The blank stares remained.
Except for Sparrow. Her grin grew.
“Look at me,” Will said, snapping my gaze to his. He had such pretty eyes. I reached up to touch his cheek, but he grabbed my wrist. “We’re going to play the quiet game. Whoever can make the least sound wins. Got it?”
I nodded rapidly. This was exciting. A real game.
His hand left my mouth.
“What do I get if I win?” I asked, glee bubbling out of me.
Will groaned. Sparrow squealed with laughter. Even Egret chuckled.
Who knew? They loved games, too.
“You win a good night’s sleep, like in a camping trip.” He waved his arms around. “See, we’re in the forest. You get to sleep under trees and stars and—”
“Oh, gosh, I always wanted to camp, but my parents wouldn’t let me because we were too rich to do something so . . . so . . . shit . . . what word did they use? It was really big with lots of letters . . . which is kind of funny because all words have letters . . . did you know that? You can’t make words without them. It’s kind of a thing.”
Sparrow was snorting by the time I finished. Will just stared, shaking his head. Then he turned to the others and asked, “Should I give him more? Just knock him out?”
“Like hell you do,” Egret said. “This is the best entertainment I’ve had in years. I say we write this shit down and publish a book when we get home.”
“Oh! A book!” I perked up. “Books have lots of words, which means even more letters!”
“Oh, God,” Will groaned.
Sparrow completely lost control. Tears streaked her face, and puffs of visible breath exploded out with every laugh.
Eszter, normally quiet, stoic Eszter, began to chuckle. Then her mirth grew into giggles, then full-throated laughter. I glanced over to see Farkas beaming with something . . . pride? Amusement? I wasn’t sure . . . and those words had a lot of letters.
Will stepped to the other side of our makeshift campsite and crouched before Egret and Sparrow. “We can’t go anywhere tonight, not with him shitfaced like this.”
“We shouldn’t travel in daylight either,” Egret said.
“Either of you feel like a little scouting trip? See if we can find a place to hole up for the night and through tomorrow? I don’t love the idea of sleeping out here in the cold. I can’t feel my nose,” Will said.
“I can feel my nose,” I said, turning all three heads toward me. I reached up and tried to press my forefinger to my nose—and missed—poking my cheek. “Oops. That’s not a nose. The silly thing moved. Come here, you little bugger. Will wants me to touch you.”
Eszter’s laughter bounded off the trees.
“As much as I hate to miss the show,” Egret said. “A scouting mission makes sense.”
“Good. You and me. Sparrow, you watch . . . whatever this hot mess is.”
“Why me?” she protested, pulling her hand away from Egret’s and crossing her arms.
“Because you’re probably the only one he’ll listen to in this state,” Will said.
She looked around me to where I was still trying—and failing—with my forefinger. “Fine, but you owe me for this.”
Egret stood and dusted off his pants. “Take notes. We’ll need them for the book . . . or, at least, for blackmail material when we’re free of this place.”
She held up a hand and raised a very specific finger.