Light in Dark Places

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Benedict finds Joan through a series of echoes. It's like he knows where to find her because she's going to be sitting where she always goes when she needs to be alone; never mind the fact that this is her first day at school so she doesn't have an "always" and Benedict doesn't know her well enough even if she did. Somehow, he finds her anyway, sitting behind a building facing the training yard, drinking a protein drink. Alone.

"Joan?"

When she looks at him it's like she can't believe he's here, can't believe that anyone would come for her, like she's going to cry at any moment, and Benedict is glad a thousand times over that he found the courage to go to her. (How easy, he thinks, how easy it is to try and be a good friend. Do it all the time, what were you so worried about?)

"I'm sorry," he says, realizing belatedly that he should apologize. There is an echo all around him that isn't quite definable but creates this strong feeling that he shouldn't have left her behind. (You should never leave her behind, the two of you are allies, comrades, united by Misery.)

"It's—OK," she says. "It's not like you had to—and I mean, I wouldn't want to sit with me, if I was me—"

"Wow, you're kind of pathetic."

Both Benedict and Joan jump as Schwartz rounds the corner. The lizard girl crosses her arms looking down at Joan where she sits. "You come here? I can literally name two dozen people who would kill their own mothers for the chance to sit with you during lunch."

"What? I'm not—"

"So you just don't realize," Schwartz cuts in. "You're the Mountain King's little sister. Get it?"

Joan falls silent as she processes this information. It seem like maybe she hadn't gotten it.

Joan stands up, probably tired of looking up at Schwartz, and self-consciously brushes the dirt off her pants. "I was also Miserable for seven years."

Schwartz studies her, arms still crossed, face unreadable, for about a minute before she finally throws her hands up in the air, "Fine, Ashes, you two are pathetic. Come with me, we're getting lunch."

"What?" Joan says.

"I said we're eating lunch, we're friends now, you're part of my crew, come on," she grabs Joan by the shirt and turns around, pulling her with her. She grabs Benedict by his arm and pulls him along too. "Ashes, you guys are useless."

*

"Oh, so, we're doing this now," Jude says when Schwartz rounds the corner, still leading the two of them.

"Yes, these guys are ours now; I've made an executive decision." Schwartz finally releases the both of them. Benedict and Joan share a look of mutual awkwardness.

"Schwartz, what part of Miserable do you not understand?" Jude says.

"She is a mystery," Connie says dreamily shuffling her cards some more. "She is mystery and she has no future."

There's a beat of silence and then Joan says, "Well, that's creepy." She turns around, as if to head back to her spot behind the building, but Benedict catches her arm.

"She's...harmless...probably," Benedict says.

"Ashes, this is dumb, Schwartz. Ten to one she's not even going to be in the Special Course a week from now," Jude says, jerking his thumb at Joan.

"You don't know that," Joan says, flushing, which Benedict thinks is a strange reaction.

"Ignoring the fact that you're the Mountain King's sister—you're not even a monster kid."

"That's not what that girl said," Joan bites out.

"We don't listen to what Gwen says," Schwartz says.

"Oh, so you're just like us, then?" Jude mocks.

Benedict once again wishes he had his hoodie, or failing that, wishes desperately that he was a turtle, and had a built in place he could retreat to when things got too tense.

Joan isn't backing down, which immediately impresses the hell out of Benedict. Even more so because he knows she is not someone like Schwartz, who oozes confidence. "Look," Joan says, "Either I'm too much of a monster, or I'm not monster enough. Make up your minds."

"If you're just like us, why don't you shake my hand? Show us all what a pal you are." Jude holds out a hand with a smirk on his face. Benedict looks at the saguaro needles and winces.

Marco laughs and even Schwartz snorts and rolls her eyes. Connie doesn't do anything but stare silently at the proceedings, but Benedict can't actually tell if she's actually watching anything.

Abruptly, the laughter stops. Joan holds out her hand in front of Jude. Jude stares at her, and stares at the hand. Then, as if they were playing some kind of polite social chicken, he takes her hand in his and grips.

Benedict can see Joan wince—everyone can see Joan wince. She doesn't cry out, though, and Benedict watches Jude add pressure—not like he is purposefully creating extra pain, but shaking her hand with a firm grim, the way anyone would.

"You're not really proving anything," Jude says.

"I'm not trying to prove anything," Joan replies.

The bell rings before there can be any further discussion about it. Benedict has never been so relieved to have class start again.

*

Agatha stares out the window, waiting. Her arms are folded— it's a gesture of prayer, but most people wouldn't know that. Her parents taught her to fold her arms when they were in public, as a way of compromising. As a way, Agatha came to realize later, to not stand out. Her arms are folded, but she's not exactly praying. She's staring across the way, where somewhere not too far from here is the quarantine her mother is in. The rest of her family were scattered across Numeh, although some of her siblings were able to escape to a different region when Mathiessen started locking up any practitioners of the old religions, regardless of sect, just a little bit after he started locking up everyone else.

Rebecca Jaine must be worried, not knowing what happened to her eldest daughter, but assuming that she was being moved to her demise. People who ended up "helping" Mathiessen didn't usually last long. Agatha wishes there was a way to tell her mother that she was alive and going to the desert.

"What are you doing?" Farah asks under her breath. "You better pay attention or the guards will take you to help Mathiessen."

"He's coming," Agatha murmurs. "He's coming here now, so you shouldn't stand next to me, otherwise he'll take you too." At Farah's surprised but then concerned look Agatha just shakes her head. "I'll be fine, so don't try to help me."

Agatha isn't sure what people think of her here— if they think she's some kind of prophet or oracle or what— but like Mathiessen, they've started to assume she has some access to knowledge and trust her at her word.

A jaunty whistle is the only warning sign, preceding the burst through the doors that causes all the helpers to jump. "You, young lady, come with me," Mathiessen booms, pointing at Agatha and beckoning. Agatha moves, thinking a lot about the point of that finger. Or maybe it was the smile that came with it. There was something about the way Mathiessen pointed that made it seem like he felt he was bestowing a favor on you with his attention.

"Guess who called me up today?" Mathiessen beams, looking healthier than Agatha had ever seen him.

She supposes this is one of those times when he doesn't actually want her to guess.

"Clemente Fucking Hernandez gave me a call. The godsdamn Thunder King." He chuckles, clearly giddy with delight. "I'm going to Sahuaro. And you're coming with me, little lady. We're going to have such a grand time."