WE BECOME THOUGHTLESS

twenty-five | games n tings

Alistair crossed his legs and peered down at the game in front of him. It was made up of misshapen pebbles as pieces, carved with unfamiliar symbols, and a piece of fabric with patterns drawn in charcoal over it, acting as some sort of board.

He took a sip of tea and placed his cup beside him. "So, how is this supposed to work?"

"Well," Cole began, and sorted the pebbles into two piles. "The only way to roll your pieces is by throwing them into the air and catching them with your knuckles – like this," he tossed a pebble up and turned his hand over, where it then fell against the flat of the back of his hand. The symbol looked slightly like a tree, albeit simplistic.

Alistair frowned. It had been a while since Cole began explaining, and he still didn't have a clue on how to play the stupid game. He missed cards – cards, of all things. The way the soldiers used to pass them around and place bets. It was a strange comfort, and he didn't know how it had been formed. He hated the army's soldiers.

"Okay," he nodded slowly. "What's the game called again?"

"Knogar," Cole supplied, although it was said in such a Welish way that Alistair knew he would butcher the word if he ever attempted to say it. "I would play this game a lot as a kid. Most of us did."

"I'm sorry, I still don't understand the rules."

Cole laughed softly as if he'd just been told a funny secret that Alistair wasn't supposed to know. Some inside joke that Alistair had no hope of getting. "That's the thing, I don't even know the rules. I think we go around saying we do, it's easy to win that way when you're making it up as you go, but really – it's a mystery."

"How could everyone possibly go about thinking they know about a game that they really know nothing about?" Alistair felt the beginnings of a smile pull at his lips. He couldn't help it.

"I think it was a good game once, but made by someone smarter than the rest of us. So we all just pretended to get it for the sake of our own pride," Cole tossed the pebbles up again, catching them on his knuckles. "You can feel the rules, sort of. It's a bit like searching around in the dark. But there is some structure to the chaos."

Alistair crossed his arms. "I suppose I'll give it a try, then. Pass me my pieces."

Cole was right, there was some structure to the chaos. Alistair couldn't tell whether he was cheating on not as he declared his own victory and placed his last pebble on the piece of unrolled fabric, where his pieces were all lined up like toy soldiers. But Cole looked as dismayed as Alistair looked triumphant, so he must've been doing something right.

"Hah!" He exclaimed, having his last sip of tea, which had gone cold and taken the flavour with it. It tasted like dust now. "This game really is fun! Better than cards."

"That's only because you're winning," Cole grumbled, and his remaining pieces dropped from his knuckles and onto the floor, the staccato sound of pebbles hitting wood ringing in the air. "Let's call it beginner's luck."

Alistair grinned and leaned back, arms behind him. Cole had been spending a concerning amount of time with him, and he still wasn't sure why. He could've been fighting with his people, hanging out with Emer and her buddies, doing anything other than staying cooped up in the mindrenderer's cottage. So why had he insisted on spending the day with him?

Shadows lengthened as evening drew in. Beams of paling sunlight slipped through the chimney, although Alistair soon realised that it wasn't a chimney at all, just a hole in the roof that let in light. This meant that the hut was usually hazy with smoke when the fire was lit.

His grin melted into a small smile. "Why are you here, Cole?"

Cole glanced up. He took his time as he placed the pebbles back into their bag, one at a time, and folded up the roll of fabric. The outline of his collarbone darkened as he sucked in a breath, exposed just above the neck of his shirt. "What do you mean?"