Page 37 of Waysider
The next stairwell was so swollen with shadows, the high walls on either side blocking out any possible light, that Cass had to feel her way up. She skimmed her fingertips along the hard surfaces on either side of her, struggling to hear past the sound of her thunderous heartbeat. An open doorway awaited at the top, but all Cass could see was soft moonbeams.
It felt like an hour had passed by the time she reached the attic.
The huge room, with its slanted ceilings and wooden floors, was completely empty except for one thing—a chalkboard. Written across the board was a single sentence, the handwriting done in elegant, white lines.
What is my name?
Cass frowned again, casting another glance around the moonlit space, but nothing moved. She also didn’t hear anything. Either her abilities were weakening, like Crane had said they would, or there were no revenants in this room.
The silence crawled beneath her skin like beetles under the floorboards. After another moment, Cass swung away and started toward the stairwell, fighting not to run. She couldn’t deny the sense of relief rushing through her. Maybe the next riddle would be a dead end, too. And if she finished the scavenger hunt without interacting with a single revenant, no one could say she hadn’t tried, right?
A sound made Cass halt so abruptly that her sneaker squeaked.
It was a soft… clicking. Or scraping. For an instant, Cass didn’t want to turn around and find out. Then she had to, because not knowing was worse. Cass spun toward the sound, her hands rising defensively, ready for a revenant to be coming right at her.
Letters were appearing on the chalkboard.
But there was still no one else in the room.
Seconds later, the chalk landed back on the narrow ledge along the bottom of the board, and it didn’t move again. It felt like Cass’s heart rammed up into her throat, and her muscles locked into place. She didn’t breathe as she read the words. Do you always give up so easily?
Cass’s entire body was screaming. Give up? What did that mean?
The scavenger hunt, she remembered in a rush. The revenant was talking about the scavenger hunt. But right now, she could barely think past the roaring terror, much less even remember the damn riddle. Trying to scrape her mind back together, Cass looked down. The paper in her hand was quivering, and she had to scan it twice to make sense of the letters. A place of the discarded and the unclaimed, here you will find a chalkboard and a name.
Cass raised her gaze back to the sentence still written at the top of the board. Understanding raced through her. This was the “item” she was supposed to get. The revenant’s name. Could it really be that simple? Was she just supposed to… ask for it? It seemed to go against the school’s rule about acknowledging revenants, but maybe this was an exception.
Okay, then. Here went nothing. Cass gathered breath into her lungs, trying to suck in some courage along with it.
“What… what is your name?” she asked, wincing at the waver in her voice. You sound like an idiot, she thought.
Apparently the revenant agreed, because the chalk didn’t move. Several seconds passed. Then a minute.
What if it hadn’t heard her? Cass wondered suddenly. Her eyes flicked down at the chalk. Maybe that was the only way this revenant could communicate.
A furious curse rose in her throat and lodged there. Cass would have a word or two for Tammy the next time they saw each other—this was not easy, in any shape or form, and Cass was officially dreading the other eleven riddles if this was supposed to be the best one.
She stood there for another full minute, maybe longer, before Cass finally mustered the guts to move. She forced herself to walk toward the board, and every muscle in her body was rigid, as if she’d turned to ice. Some of the floorboards creaked beneath her, and Cass could hear her ragged breath in her ears. Her eyes kept darting around, half-expecting to see a shimmer of movement or a dark, hulking shape in the dim corners of the attic. But she reached the board without incident, untouched. Cass’s breathing was still shallow as she picked up the piece of chalk, petrified that she’d feel ghostly fingers. What if the revenant wanted to hurt her? It could be standing right next to her, wearing a hideous leer. Maybe it would snap her neck, or bite her, or—
Cass’s grip tightened on the chalk so hard that she felt her fingers shake. She took another long, steadying breath, then stretched her arm upward. She felt the scrape of the chalk in her fingertips as she wrote.
What is your name?
The second she was done, Cass hastily set the chalk down and stepped back. Compared to the graceful loops of the revenant’s letters, her handwriting looked like a child’s. As she waited, everything inside Cass kept urging her to run. She hated being this close to a revenant, even if she couldn’t see it. Especially if she couldn’t see it. But Cass stayed where she was. She watched the chalk scratch and click across the dusty green surface of the board, and there was no one to hold it, no one to write the words appearing in front of her.
As if I’d make it that easy for you.
A whisper of irritation slid through her veins. After the revenant was finished, Cass picked the piece of chalk back up. She had a riddle to solve and a cash prize to collect, she reminded herself. Beneath the two sentences they’d written, Cass added a third. Were you a student here?
The response came in seconds. Yes. Who are you?
“Oh, you get to ask for my name, but I don’t get to know yours?” Cass muttered. She picked the chalk back up.
You first, she wrote.
Nice try, came the reply.
Cass huffed. This ghost was starting to piss her off. She snatched the chalk off the thin ledge again, and her handwriting became even sloppier. Eat shit and die. Again.
