“The men hardly provide us with anything. We are making use of the skins of what Araelya and Elena catch, but they often catch smaller animals, leaving us with little. And even once we amass enough furs and skins, Elena says it’s important to show them we have culture.”
She snorts derisively. “I’m sure culture will make us look reaaaaal strong.”
Ignoring her jab, I grab a set of clothes from the longhouse and take her to the cave. When she sees no one is inside, her demeanor changes, her shoulders slumping, her face tilted forward, toward the ground.
It’s all a show. Her confidence. Her better-than-thou attitude. Perhaps he’s always been afraid of appearing weak.
“It’s hard to believe that places like this exist in Melgrim,” she whispers, taking in the colorful orbs floating near the water.
“Were there other such places where you went?”
She looks over at me; her face stricken. “Trust me, you don’t want to know what’s out there.”
Her words send a chill up my spine, though I don’t know why I should be surprised. Melgrim is brutal, with only a handful of men to tame the wilds.
Amber winces as she undresses. I move to help her, but she jerks away, eyeing me with distaste.
She really is the worst.
And yet I need her.
She sheds her clothes and I notice she has marks and cuts all over her flesh that weren’t there before she took off.
“Those look painful,” I say.
She frowns. “I hardly feel them now. It’s not that they’re numb. I just feel so much everywhere, the pain gets lost…”
I slip out of my clothes, and we get into the water. Admittedly, the warmth helps me calm, and I feel my heart return to normal for the first time since Ramsey stormed into the hut.
Amber takes a bar of soap on the stone lip circling the water, and presses it to her skin.
I try to think of something to say to help form a greater kinship, hoping to form a truce of sorts and learn more about Ramsey, but I know little of how to speak to someone like her.
“How is the longhouse?” she asks. “I worry it will be too muggy at night.”
“I suppose it’s fine.”
“Is it comfortable? Is there room enough for us all without tripping over each other?”
“I don’t know.”
Her head tilts to the side in confusion, her mouth falling open as she stumbles upon an unlikely thought. “Are you staying with one of the men?”
My cheeks flush with color. “Yes, but not for the reason you might think. My weaves take up so much space that I was put in Ramsey’s hut.”
Her eyes bulge. “No…”
“He’d gone off looking for you, and Dogan took me there.”
She stares at me, her expression a mixture of shock and horror.
“Was he ornery out there in the greater mainland?” I ask, hoping she’ll be forthcoming.
“He was stubborn, angry, grumpy, ill-tempered, and just plain mean.”
“Was there a time when he wasn’t?”
She sighs. “At first, we talked a little, but his expectations of strength far exceed what any Penticari woman is capable of.”
