I grimaced. “Camilla, what were you reading?”
“Oh, I’ll show you. But I wasn’t really reading it—and no, Resse, I’m not illiterate! It’s just in a different language. I was looking at all the symbols.” She grabbed my hand and led me to the book she’d been flipping through. It was, indeed, written in another language—it looked like the language you’d see old scrolls in, like the ones framed behind glass in the academy.
“That’s odd,” I said. “I wonder where it’s from.”
“I don’t know, but it should be in Script.”
I looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“How do they expect us to read it, if they write it in weird symbols like that?”
“They didn’t expect us to read it.”
“Then why bother writing it if no one’s going to read it?”
Resse pressed his hand against his face. “Gods, Camilla, you and Vane are going to make him think all of us are either stupid or crazy. You don’t think I’m that way, do you Isore?”
I shook my head.
“What? So I am?” Camilla demanded, hands on her hips.
“I didn’t say that!” I said. Gods, these kids were crazy!
She laughed and flicked a hand at me. “Oh, I know, I’m just giving you a hard time.”
“How old are you guys?” I asked.
“Why? You think we act like little kids?” asked Camilla, her eyes narrowing.
“You got to try and find insult in everything, huh?” Resse said. “I’m thirteen. Two more years for me. She’s twelve.”
“I can tell him my age!”
“I’m twelve also,” I said. “What about Vane?”
“He’s. . .uh, I don’t even know. How old is Vane?” Resse asked Camilla.
“Now you want my opinion?”
“Hence why I asked you.”
“You’re an ass, Resse. They should have named you Rasse, for rat’s ass.”
“There’s an –e at the end of my name, if you’ve forgotten.”
“It’s all right,” I said, fighting back a sigh, “I don’t care that much."
Yay! Great job Kosse! 