The Unready Queen, стр. 9

“I know.” Evie kicked a dirt clod. “Rosalie Richmond kept calling me gnome and everybody was laughing. It was just like my old school all over again. So I was hiding.” She scooted closer along the bricks. “But then you came to talk to me—even though I told you not to. Because you didn’t understand.”

“Rosalie’s a jerk to everyone.”

“That’s what you said then, too. She made me feel like nobody. But you made me feel like . . . somebody again.”

Tinn raised his chin. “Everybody’s somebody.”

“And you also told me I was lucky. I’ve been called a lot of things, but I think you’re the first person to call me lucky. You said that when people call me names, at least I know it isn’t true. You said at least I know who I really am.”

Tinn nodded. He remembered stumbling over his words a lot more than that when he said it, but he was glad it had gotten through.

“And then you told me about . . . the stories.”

Tinn cringed. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut. You were the only kid who didn’t call me and Cole goblin.”

“I’m glad you told me,” she said. “Sometimes you gotta toss the egg and trust the other person is gonna do their best to catch it.”

“We lost at egg toss,” Tinn reminded her.

“No,” said Evie, “we didn’t.”

They stared at their own feet for several moments.

“I saw it,” Evie said at last. “Your hand.”

Tinn felt all sweaty in spite of the cold bricks on his back.

“Is it . . . magic?” she asked.

“I guess?” Tinn closed his eyes and let the back of his head clunk against the wall. “Yeah. It is.”

“So, it’s you, then? You’re the one who . . . you’re the . . . the G word?”

Tinn nodded wretchedly.

“Can I see it?”

Tinn opened his eyes a crack to peek at Evie. She had gotten even closer. She didn’t look particularly horrified or disgusted.

Slowly, he raised his hands.

“That’s so neat,” she said, leaning in closer. Then she caught herself. “I mean, not neat. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s weird,” said Tinn.

Evie held his ink-black hand in hers. “Yeah,” she said. “It is weird.” Her fingers laced between his.

The paper butterfly in Tinn’s stomach burst into flames.

They sat behind the school, hand in hand, staring at the back of the dusty storage shed and saying nothing for a long time. Evie finally broke the silence. “My dad got a new job.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s working for Mr. Hill. They keep going out really early and taking samples.”

“Samples of what?”

“I dunno. Dirt and rocks and stuff. It all seems pretty dumb. It’s nice to see Dad excited, though. He’s been all mopey and grumpy since he got fired. He and Mom keep fighting, too. She said she needed to go help my aunt in Glanville for a little while, but it’s obvious she just wanted to get away.”

Tinn nodded. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Things are getting better, at least. And hanging out with Uncle Jim has been fun. He doesn’t baby me as much as everybody else does.”

“I still can’t believe you’re related to Old Jim. Is the inside of his house full of creepy traps and animal heads and things?”

“Yes. It’s amazing.”

“I knew it.”

Tinn’s heart had gradually ceased pounding against his chest, and his head wasn’t spinning anymore.

“Hey,” said Evie. “Your hand.”

Tinn looked down. “Huh.” The usual color had returned to his skin, with the exception of a small, smeary ink stain across two fingers. He rubbed his palm and flexed his fingers experimentally. They felt normal.

“Can you change like that on purpose?” Evie asked.

“No. Well, sometimes. Not very well. I’m learning. It’s all really new. I guess I just got a little anxious in there.”

“Think you can make it to the end of class without freaking out again? If you want, I can tell everybody that you just barfed all over yourself and it was completely disgusting and embarrassing and you ran home mortified.”

“That’s really nice of you,” said Tinn. “I think I’ll be okay, though. I just need to stay calm.”

“TINN!”

Evie and Tinn both jumped as a third face inserted itself into the gap between the buildings. The owner of the face wore an expansive smile, a smudge of dirt on her chin, and a mess of dark curls atop her head.

“Fable?” Tinn said. “How? What are you—”

“Oh my gosh, Tinn!” Fable said, bobbing up and down on her heels in her excitement. “Human places are a-MAZ-ing. There’s a house up the road for horses, and I saw a door with a fancy, stripy pole that turned out to be a whole room for cutting hair. Isn’t that funny? There’s even a tiny little building just for pooping! Wanna see?”

“Um.”

“Ooh! Is this your friend?” Fable directed her wide eyes to Evie. “You’re pretty! My name’s Fable. I’m Tinn’s friend, too. Best friends. Forever. What’s your name? Hey—we’re both wearing dresses! That’s fun! Tinn’s mom sewed mine. Does your dress have the buttons in the back? Annie says they’re kept back there because it looks nicer, but I wish they were in front because I like to look at the buttons. Mine’s also got a bow on it that isn’t even tied to anything. See? It just sits there.” She turned and shuffled herself backward between the buildings to show off her bow.

“I’m Evie,” said Evie. “Your dress is beautiful.”

“Fable,” Tinn managed finally, “what are you doing here? I mean. It’s great to see you. But does your mom know you’re in Endsborough? Is she . . . here?”

“Blurg. No. She dropped me off at your house again, but there was nobody home, so I came to find you.”

“Well, yeah. It’s a weekday. We’re in school.”

“This is school?” Fable looked dubiously at the dusty walls. “I thought school would be bigger.”

“Well, no. I mean—school is inside. We’re supposed to be in there right now.”

“Oh my gosh. Yes,” said Fable. “That sounds amazing. Let’s do school!”

And without any further discussion, she whipped open the back door and strode inside the schoolhouse.

Tinn opened his mouth and shut it again.

“She seems nice,” said Evie.