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“So,” Loop crossed one leg over the other. “Any bright ideas on what new and different thing you’ll try this loop? What strategy has our bright tactic-ologist come up with this time~?”
They apparently decided against their current position and uncrossed their legs. Odile had noticed how fidgety they could be a long time ago, but it still managed to catch her off guard loop after loop.
Siffrin swore up and down when they visited Loop by themselves, Loop was never this nervous. Odile wondered what it was about her that made Loop so agitated in comparison to how they behaved with Siffrin.
“I’m currently toying with the idea that we need to find out more about the Country.” Odile said decisively.
“What country?”
“The Country!” Odile hissed. “The one Siffrin, the King, and you’re from!”
Loop paused, eyes squinting at Odile. “. . . I’m not from that blinding Country.”
“No?” Odile dared, watching their reaction carefully. “I apologize for being presumptuous, then. I just assumed, with the way you talk and your language. . .”
“What language?” Loop giggled behind their hand, as if that could possibly throw Odile off. They weren’t nearly as clever as they thought. Or maybe they just acted it up to see how she would react. Odile really didn’t know at this point.
She had suspicions about Loop, but she would talk to Siffrin about it sometime at the End, when they knew Loop couldn't eavesdrop on them. Unless that was another lie, but the way they reacted to certain revelations, especially about the Head Housemaiden, was pretty hard to fake.
“I only copy the Wanderer, you know.” Loop told her when they saw the way her gaze hardened. “I thought it would be cute! They speak up so little, it’s terribly unhelpful! I thought you might enjoy hearing them speak up a bit more!”
Odile’s eyes narrowed. Loop’s voice was too high to be anything like Siffrin’s, even with the similar accent. Besides, they spoke like that when Odile first met them. It wasn’t a recent development.
“I could speak up more if you wanted.” Siffrin muttered into their cloak, shrinking more into themself with each passing word.
“Don’t worry about it.” Odile told them. “Loop’s just being annoying, as always.”
Siffrin nodded, subdued.
Odile turned back to Loop, crossing her arms. “All that aside, we’re going to find out more about the Country, however we can. We’re hoping it’s a step to breaking the loops. If we can find and break whatever hid it away, we should be able to do the same with the loops.”
“Is that so?” Loop mused, rocking their shoulders at the same rhythm as their feet as they looked up at the leaves, deep in thought. “Well, if you think it’ll work, far be it from me to stop you! It sounds like an interesting premise, I suppose. Free the Country, free yourselves.”
“I think so, yes.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” Loop inquired. “Have the Wanderer click their heels three times, ‘there’s no place like home’?”
“What?”
“Hmm, ‘no’ then.” Loop mused. “You should really give it a try, it might do something! What, I have no clue, but something!”
Gems, Loop was a mystery to Odile. Still, she flipped open her book to add a note about it. Small mercies about whatever kept these loops contained, it didn’t erase any of her notes.
She and Siffrin were able to work through everything methodically, and if ever they needed to split up, Odile could pass her book to Siffrin so they would remember what to do.
The rest of the party always gave them odd looks, because nobody had been allowed to touch Odile’s journal previous to the loops, but it’s not like the party would remember.
Odile had told them, a few times, about the loops, but it never stuck. Siffrin was adamantly against it, too, and it frankly just didn’t seem worth the fight to bring it up.
“Anyway,” Odile continued, breezing right past that with a roll of her eyes. “We’re intending to pressure the King about it.”
“Haven’t you asked the King enough questions?” Loop hissed, looking away from them. “It’s always the same. He can smell the Time Craft on you, can recognize you’re different then the others. He talks about how he and the Wanderer are from the same country, you either kill him or you don’t, and then you loop.”
“I thought you said there’s always something else to try,” Siffrin glowered at Loop, narrowing their eye.
“Not with the King!” Loop scoffed. “Having a conversation with him is about as useless as listening to the Fighter try to confess to you all night long! It’ll never go anywhere.”
Gems. Odile was pretty certain there was history there, not that she would ever get Loop to admit it. She wondered if she asked the King if he knew any star-shaped people if he would have an answer.
It was shockingly easier to get the King to answer their questions than Loop, who claimed they were there to help them. Odile would never know why she believed that when they insisted on being as unhelpful as possible.
“We’re going to attempt to get Siffrin to say the name of the country.” Odile explained instead of pressing for any information about that.
Loop went perfectly still.
Their eyes widened, flitting over to Siffrin and then back to Odile. “Oh.” Loop said. “Are you now?”
“Yes.” Odile said. She looked over at Siffrin, who was back to huddling into their cloak and hat until they were nothing more than a pile of clothes hung out to dry. “We think it has something to do with having multiple people from the same country close together. There’s something preventing them from. . . finding each other, we think. Or at least staying together.”
Siffrin had told her about the incident once, and she remembered their drunk dancing. Siffrin forgot both the next time she brought both up.
As far as Siffrin knew, he and the King were the only two who had escaped from the Country before it vanished from their minds. Odile knew there were others, but it didn’t matter what she knew when it hurt him.
“Multiple people from the Country trying, huh. . .” Loop mused, tilting their head.
Come on, Odile mentally goaded, careful not to change her expression, waiting for Loop to take the bait. Volunteer yourself. Prove you’re also from the Country. Show Siffrin they’re not alone.
“It won’t work the way you want to.” Loop finally decreed, closing their eyes and nodding to themselves, reclining back on their root.
“Oh?” Odile deadpanned, gesturing for Loop to continue. “Please, enlighten me.”
Siffrin raised their head, a gleam in their eye that said there was probably a pun bubbling up behind their skull, the only thing they ever devoted any amount of thought to.
. . . No, that wasn’t quite fair, but the longer they went, the more Siffrin fell into themself and allowed her to take the reins and the less they offered any worthwhile suggestions. Between Siffrin and Loop, Odile was starting to get hopelessly frustrated. Why did it always feel like she was doing everything herself?
“They’re light itself,” Siffrin grinned at Odile. “What more do you want them to do–?”
“Gems, Siffrin, not now.” Odile hissed, feeling only a miniscule amount of guilt when they cringed and curled away again. “Now, Loop, tell me. Why don’t you think it’ll work? What insider knowledge do you just happen to possess?”
“Oh, it might work.” Loop shrugged. “I really don’t know why it wouldn’t, so I can’t speak one way or another. But I think it’s obvious that it’ll come at a very steep cost.”
Odile rolled her eyes. “Oh, really. And what would that be, Loop?”
Loop glared. They drummed their fingers against their knee, and then tightened them into a fist. “It’ll kill the Wanderer, Researcher.”
The
twist
in her heart
was completely unexpected.
Odile felt herself inhale sharply, leaning away from Loop. “It won’t.” She promised them.
“It will.” Loop hissed.
“We know what happens when you say its name,” Odile told Loop. “All it really does is give you a headache, and if we have to defeat the King while Siffrin’s fighting a raging migraine, then so be it.”
“Stars–!” Loop cut themself off with a hiss, probably trying to hide the familiar curse, trying to disguise their origins. They, however, failed to follow through, a new pair of words that Odile knew almost equally well slipping out. “Blind it, Researcher, so it doesn’t matter to you that they get hurt?”
“It’s temporary.” Odile spat back. “A little bit of pain to end this nightmare once and forever. Aren’t you who’s always pushing us to end the loops as fast as possible? By whatever means necessary?”
“Never at the cost of your party!” Loop cried, leaning forward sharply. “You never know when it’ll be the last one! The Wanderer knows what I stand for! And yes, I know I’m always sitting, it’s not as funny of a joke as you think it is!”
Siffrin cowered again.
“Do not talk to them that way!” Odile scolded, standing up and stealing the burst of pleasure that twisted in her heart as Loop cowered beneath her, sinking back into themselves. Was it just her, or did they dim as she stepped closer?
“You spoke to them like that first.” Loop growled. “I don’t think you have any room to talk!”
“No, no, we’re not doing that,” Odile huffed. “We are not playing this game. You can’t speak to them like that because–!”
The words failed her. It was wrong of her to do it first. She shouldn’t have been rude to Siffrin. She had an excuse, being their friend, but perhaps it was even worse for a friend to be pointlessly mean. Loop had no such excuse or benefit.
They were a threat.
Odile understood that Loop was more open when it came to Siffrin by themself, but it didn’t make her any more comfortable leaving them alone with Loop. Siffrin was susceptible, if how they were starting to talk to the King comfortably was any indicator.
Loop could hurt Siffrin, and Odile was starting to doubt that Siffrin would say anything about it.
“Hhhh. . . h a !” Loop cackled, holding their stomach and laughing, kicking their feet and leaning back so harshly Odile thought they’d fall over. Of course they didn’t, always subverting expectations. “Oh, you are a riot, Researcher! Even you can’t excuse your own actions! You’re so filled with regrets, aren’t you?! You’re going to kill the Wanderer, and you won’t ever admit you’re wrong! You won’t even care in the end, will you?!”
Even though Loop had said they were always sitting only a few minutes before, they were now in her face, or as much as they could be, leering at her, chin craned up so that they could look at her.
“You can’t wait to be rid of them.” Loop hissed at her. “You don’t really care about what they want, do you? As soon as this adventure is over, that’s it! If you’re not done with the whole party, you certainly will be done with them! And if they’re dead, that’s one last goodbye, isn’t it? Yes, yes! Free yourself from the loops at the price of their life!”
Odile’s ears were ringing. She could feel a pressure building up behind her pinched eyebrows.
“No price is too great.” Loop laughed. “Maybe a life would be, but the Wanderer’s life is worthless, isn’t it?! They’re just a tool to you! And tools can be reset! That’s it, isn’t it! They’re nothing to you! Nothing”
Odile
did not grab Loop. Did not touch them.
Although she wanted to, she had a nagging suspicion that she would be burned if she tried.
If Loop had been dimmer before, now they were a bright blistering sight, sparking so terribly that she had no choice but to turn away. She looked to where Siffrin was sitting, hunching into themselves so deeply that her heart nearly broke.
“Siffrin.” She commanded, and their head snapped up, one eye wide, but their pupil had shrunk into a tiny pinprick. “Don’t listen to them. Let’s go.”
“Of course, Odile!” Siffrin said, voice shivering out of their mouth even as they lurched to their feet. They turned away from Loop the quickest they had ever done.
“I wasn’t lying, you know!” Loop seethed after Odile. “If this works and breaks you from the loops, the Wanderer will be dead!”
Odile rolled her eyes. “That is a risk I’m willing to take.”
“You’re horrible,” Loop spat at her back. “You’re awful! Honestly, Researcher, I can’t believe I– I thought–!”
Odile paused. She looked back at Loop. They had an odd look to their eyes, but one she was unfortunately familiar with.
It looked like they wanted to cry but had no moisture with which to wet their eyes. They looked angry. They looked lonely, standing there beneath the Favour Tree.
None of that mattered to her.
“Nevermind.” Loop muttered, and sat right back down where they belonged, looking towards the trunk. “Wanderer. Stardust.”
Siffrin froze. Not at the first title, but the second, more unknown word that Odile had not heard before. It twisted her mind in an odd way, made it impossible for her head to grasp.
A Country word, then. She didn’t think she knew the language even before the island disappeared, but it was impossible to learn it now, that was for certain.
“Don’t go through with this.” Loop begged, quietly. “Don’t die just because she asks you to.”
Siffrin didn’t say anything.
Loop allowed the silence to sit for a long time.
Odile only waited so that she could make sure Siffrin followed her. She didn’t care what kind of nonsense argument Loop tried to spin on their own behalf. Loop spent their time under the tree, not doing anything. They did not understand how progressing through the House grated on their nerves, how Odile felt insane with only Siffrin as real company.
They knew nothing of risk or heartbreak.
“Fine then,” Loop spat the second Siffrin started to walk forward. “I won’t mourn you, either, then! See if I care! If you never come back, good riddance! I hope you don’t come back!”
Odile glared at Loop. “Come along, Siffrin. We have plans to make.”
Siffrin followed after her. They didn’t look back.
<><><> < > < >
Towering over them, the King wept into his hands, as fallible as ever. He didn’t know who they were, what they were capable of. Odile was going to enjoy tearing him apart after this.
Gems, she could never tell Siffrin that she was practically punning herself, trying to steal his Craft name for herself.
She was honestly jealous how powerful he had gotten in so little time. All three different Craft abilities in what was, realistically, only two days but was more logistically something like a month.
It had taken her years of refinement to get to where she was, and Siffrin had surpassed her in both scissors and paper – her own Craft type – in, comparatively, no time at all. She was impressed.
They fell into the familiar dance of taking down the King, dealing attack after attack, wearing him down. Mirabelle and Isabeau glanced at them both in confusion for the first few rounds, wondering when they got so out of sync, and then, as always, Odile saw them exchange a glance and sigh.
“Secret quests,” they whispered to each other, falling to the same conclusion as always.
Easy, simple, efficient.
When they got the King down to a little less than half health, throwing the bomb and dismissing the tears, Odile looked at Siffrin.
They had been watching her, like always, and gave a small nod back at the look.
It was time to put their plan into motion.
At Siffrin’s next turn – his came quicker and quicker, sometimes happening twice before Mirabelle and Isabeau were able to repeat theirs – he paused, lifting his head to look up at the King.
“Where are you from?”
All three members of their party, and the King, froze, turning to stare at Siffrin.
“Where. . . . . . Where I’m from. . . . . . ?” The King murmured in absolute confusion, slowly lowering his hands. They still couldn’t see his eyes or his face. “Oooooh. . . . . . Bright one. . . . . . If you’re asking, with such a look in your eye. . . . . . Do you remember, then? Can you see it? Can you picture it?”
Odile knew Siffrin couldn’t.
They had gone over this enough times to know that those tears in his eyes, the way they gripped their cloak and knees, shaking their head, was not faked. It was a dead end. Siffrin remembered nothing, and even if they did, even if there was a slip in whatever curse had sealed it away from even their own memory, even if he did remember. . .
They would forget again within fifteen seconds, reliably, the solid metal door slamming down and locking.
The King did not know this. They sobbed regardless. “Bright one. Bright one, please, you can’t. . . . . . You have to remember. . . . . . I know you can, we both can. . . . . . We’re the only ones present here who can!”
With the brief lapses in Siffrin’s memory, which he promptly shared with her, Odile likely had more information about the Country then he did.
The King didn’t need to know that.
“What. . . ?” Mirabelle whispered, wringing her hands together.
“Sif?” Isabeau pleaded. “Sif, are you okay?”
“Bright one. . . . . .” The King murmured, studying Siffrin intently. “. . . . . . No. You’re trying, I can tell. But the knowledge keeps escaping you, doesn’t it. . . . . . Slipping through your fingers. . . . . . It is the same for me.”
Siffrin sent a look of sheer panic over to Odile. She nodded encouragingly. They needed this.
“But we have to try to remember, bright one! I see flashes of it, of what was! The mountains! The sea! The lightless sand, dark like the night! Our country, bright one! Our country! Our home!”
Odile’s heart twisted. She saw Siffrin’s determined expression break with sorrow at the same moment, eyebrows softening with understanding.
Sometimes, she forgot that someone like Siffrin did not have a home to return to. Other times, it was so obvious.
“We have to say it!” The King pleaded. “We cannot let oblivion win! Our home! We can rebuild it together!”
And now it was just stalkery and a little bit predatory.
“Your power and mine! We just have to wish for it! We just have to ask!” The King leaned forward, hands slamming on the ground on either side of the party, and everyone jumped, startled by the sudden movement.
The King, however, made no move to attack them, leaning towards Siffrin as close as he could, voice echoing across the room like thunder. “WE JUST HAVE TO SAY ITS NAME!”
Siffrin breathed in, and out. They looked up at the King. Odile could see their hands tighten at their sides.
The King breathed in, just like them, but on his exhale, came a word Odile recognized, a distant memory from her past. Something she could not quite place but sounded
wrong
like nothing
she had ever heard
before
because she never heard it
at all
it was nothingness itself
the concept
put into oral form
finally
able to be voiced
yet never
grasped
and
siffrin
s c r e a m e d !
Mirabelle clamped her hands to her ears, barking out a short cry.
Isabeau pivoted on his heel, dashing straight for Siffrin. “Sif!”
The King trembled, his own scream dying in his throat as he trembled, shaking his head over and over, dragging his long locks along with him. “No, no, no. . . . .”
“W-what’s happening?!” Mirabelle cried, twisting towards Siffrin, arms stretching out towards him, ready to catch him in case he fell.
Odile knew he wouldn’t. Siffrin was stronger than that.
“Siffrin is going to end this nightmare!” Odile explained hastily, taking a sharp step forward. Isabeau, Mirabelle, and Bonnie all froze, heads snapping to face her. She curled her hand tight, holding herself tall to establish her authority over the younger group. “Believe me, this is the only way.”
“B-but—!” Bonnie cried as Sifrin clawed at their own ears. “It’s hurting them!”
“Sif!” Isabeau cried again, hands reaching out for Siffrin, but predictably did not make contact.
“It’s only temporary pain!” Odile shouted, trying to reel back in her control of the situation. “We are going to win this!”
Siffrin’s wild eye swept towards Odile. It must be more painful than either of them predicted, if the regretful, terrified look in his eye was anything to go by.
But they couldn’t stop now. Odile didn’t know why he would want to. This was the only way. This was it. She gestured him on.
Siffrin visibly swallowed, looking back up at the King.
“Bright one, please, please!” The King begged, pulling himself back so he would have room to clasp his hands together.
Siffrin inhaled.
Odile moved to cover her ears, not wanting to hear the nothingness she had heard before but she wasn’t
quite fast enough
if a tree falls
and there is no one around
does it even
make
a sound
what
a
conundrum
if an entire country
disappears
from hearts and memories
did it ever exist
are the remnants
people
or ghosts?
the name
is a ghost of a word
so they
must be
ghosts of people too
nothing makes
sense
anymore
siffrin coughs
and out of the
abundance of the heart
the mouth speaks
and its shade is
What?!
No, what?!
Odile broke into a run, reaching out for Siffrin, hastening to attempt to stop the quell of liquid leak, leak, leaking from his mouth.
She didn’t know what it was, not from a glance, but with the metallic stench in the air, something she had not smelled so starkly since Siffrin lost their eye. Blood. Whatever this shade was, whatever made it appear, it was Siffrin’s blood.
“What–?” Isabeau choked. “What is that?”
“It smells–?” Mirabelle began, hands reaching up to clamp over her mouth.
“No!” The King sobbed above them.
Odile wasn’t sure why she ever thought Siffrin smelled like metal when instead, they were starting to smell like sugar, sickeningly sweet and terrible. No, it still smelled like metal. Like a pot, filled with sugar water, set to boil or simmer but ignored for too long. The metal was melting, the sugar was burning.
“Bright one,” the King wails, “I– Almost heard it, I. . . . . . ! Please, again! Once again, we have to try. . . . . . Together!”
Right, of course, this is what it all came to. They were supposed to say it as one already. It would break the curse, Odile was certain of it. They had just been out of sync until now.
“No!” Isabeau spits, whirling around to face the King, papier-mâché gloves tightening impossibly much as he lifted them up to his jaw, preparing to launch another Paper attack. “We have to stop the King! I don’t care what you think this is going to do, M’dame! It’s killing Siffrin!”
“It’s not!” Odile spat back, barely managing to catch Siffrin as they stumbled, falling backward. She grabbed him, helped him onto the ground, something horrible twisting in her gut. She thought he wouldn’t fall.
More painful than either of them imagined. It was just getting worse, wasn’t it?
“Frin!” Bonnie wailed, appearing at her side, pulling off their hat and yanking tonic after tonic from their hat, shaking hands holding each one as they searched the labels in a haze. Normally Bonnie could tell on sight which tonic was which.
Odile could see the tears on their face, obscuring their perception.
Of course this would be hard on them. But it was important, it would be worth it–!
“Siffrin!” Mirabelle sobbed, hands full of Healing Craft extending towards Siffrin, hovering over their chest as they coughed up another gob of the blood. “I’m here, we’re here! Wh-whatever the King is telling you to say–!”
A single tear rolled down Siffrin’s chest.
The King and Siffrin inhaled as one, and Odile could hear it – could not hear it, really, but knew, deep in her heart – as they spoke as
o n e ! ! !
something
visceral
climbed the walls
and filled odile’s ears and head
nothing
was okay anymore
beneath
her hands
a real person
not a ghost
nono
not
a ghost
a real person
shuddered at
the force
of nothingness
she could not
stop it
she could not
cure it
she could only
listen
as
they were
pu l l e d a p a r t
Siffrin did not stop screaming.
Blood filled their mouth, overflowed, spilling out from the corners of their mouths and down their cheeks, a horrible gurgling noise bursting out of them.
Bonnie twisted around so they wouldn’t see, covering their ears, shaking in their crouched position, screaming almost as loudly.
Mirabelle wept as she tried to project more Healing Craft into him, fingers trembling from the force of it. “I’m here!” she cried, words barely able to be heard over the wails. “Siffrin, hold on I’m g o i ng t o f i x i t !”
Odile could see the exact minute
— siffrin stopped breathing
— the light went out in siffrin’s eyes
— she felt the heartbeat flutter out beneath her hands
The world
was
b r o k e
< < < < < > < > < >
Like clockwork, Odile blinked her eyes open to face the store shelf.
She had two thoughts, just as awful as the other.
First, Loop was right, that was not a risk she should have made, should have been willing to make!
Two. It had killed Siffrin! It killed him and it was her fault! She would’ve lost him forever and it was her fault!
Maybe, in the end, they were the same thought, because if it had worked, she would’ve lost Siffrin! They would still be dead right now, she wouldn’t have looped! They would’ve gotten the Country back, would’ve escaped from the loops, and Siffrin would never have been able to escape with her or go home!
She had been so bent on her own survival that Siffrin had–
Siffrin had almost–
Odile felt sick. She needed to make sure he was okay.
Logically, the loops had never carried over anything that wasn’t equipment. Siffrin would respawn, fully fine, waking up sleepily from what must feel like a nightmare–
Except all she could think of was Loop’s words. That Siffrin was nothing more than a tool to her, and she felt sick!
What if this was it? What if Siffrin was dead and she’d never see him agian? She couldn’t have that, she couldn’t live with that, she didn’t want–!
Odile left the shop at a run.
Mirabelle smiled at her, innocent, unknowing, as she passed her on the bridge. “Oh, Madame Odile– What’s wrong?! Where are you going–?!”
“I’ll wake Siffrin, Mirabelle!” Odile yelled over her shoulder. She would deal with Mirabelle’s confusion later, she’d explain it somehow.
But whatever state Siffrin was in, she didn’t want Mirabelle to see it. She wanted to be the first on the scene, to be able to see what happened, and be able to tally up the damage. She had to fix this, because nobody else would understand–!
Siffrin was already standing by the time she burst into the field.
They turned towards her, slow and measured, single eye finding her.
“Siffrin,” Odile gasped, relieved.
“Odile.” Siffrin said, staring at her. They didn’t sound angry or scared or any emotion Odile thought they would have. “We’re still looping.”
Odile swallowed. Thank the Expressions for that. “Indeed we are, Siffrin.”
“I’m sorry,” Siffrin said, still in that awful, dull tone. “You shouldn’t be stuck here.”
“No. We should not be.” Odile agreed, wishing Siffrin liked being touched so that she could hug him.
All she could think of was that not-quite shade dripping from his mouth, the smell of sharp iron heavy in the air like Damocles’ horrendous sword. She wanted to know he was alive. To feel his skin, hear his heartbeat, and know.
She didn’t like touch herself, but it was something she felt like she needed. Emotions were funny and awful that way.
She satisfied herself by only looking. “Are you alright, Siffrin?”
Siffrin tilted their head, so slight she almost didn’t see it. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Why–” Odile wasn’t proud of the way she spluttered, staring at Siffrin in horror. “Why wouldn’t you be?! You just died!”
“Yeah. . .” Siffrin said slowly. “But I knew the risk. Really I should be asking you if you’re okay, because you– you were so hopeful! You wanted this to be it! But it wasn’t! It wasn’t, and–!”
There was the crack of emotion she was looking for, but it was fracturing into laughter as Siffrin lifted up their hand and scrubbed at their cheek, shaking their head wildly. “And you’re still h~e~r~e because I can’t even save you~you~youuu~!”
Oh, gems.
Gems–
They were pulling at their hair.
“Siffrin–” Odile reached out her arms for Siffrin, leaning in for that unwarranted hug, because something needed to break him out of his spiral and–
That tiny pinpicked eye landed on her again. Siffrin jolted, like a puppet on strings. They smiled at her, bitterly sweet, and clasped their hands together as they tilted their head. “Well!” They crooned, toxically sweet. “Now that that’s over, what other leads do we have, Researcher?”
What.
What.
Whatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhat?!
“Odile.” They corrected, horribly, eye darting to the side. “Odile. What. Other leads. Do we have?”
“We are talking about that later,” Odile decreed, voice coming out hoarser than she meant for it to. “But we– for now we just need to sit and. Think. I don’t know what. . . I don’t know what our next move should be.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Siffrin reassured, their tone horrible and wrong, smooth where it should most certainly be scared. “I’m here when you need me!”
. . .
Odile.
Did not know what to do with that. The words were wrong, grating on her ears. Siffrin was trying to be comforting, but when their voice joined with the King, something must have happened. Siffrin was physically fine, but mentally. . .
That was another story.
Horribly, through the twist in her heart, Odile had a feeling that this was distinctly her fault. Nothing broke the mind quite like betrayal from a friend, and from the way Siffrin was talking–
They hadn’t thought it would work. Why didn’t they speak up and tell her? Why hadn’t they–?
No, no, that was besides the point.
Siffrin was hurting, Siffrin was in pain, and Odile didn’t know how to help him.
She needed. . . to speak to Loop.