“She made an awful mess,” the little girl said, peeking around her brother. One thumb was shoved into her mouth, so the words were a little garbled.
Venn gave her a gentle smile. “Infants do that sometimes. My baby sister once made such a mess, we had to wash all of her clothes and bedding as well. And it smelledterrible.”
The little girl giggled.
Finn’s blade wavered.
Venn focused back on the boy, and he softened his voice. “You’re taking care of them. And that’s admirable. But sometimes, we need help. And I can help you, Finn. I can help them.”
The boy’s expression didn’t change, so Venn tried another tactic. “I’m not traveling alone. I have a friend with me. Her name is Vera. Would you feel better if she was here, too? She’s very kind, and she can tell you that I’m not as scary as I look.”
“You don’t look scary,” the little girl told him.
The corner of Venn’s mouth lifted. “Oh, good.”
The baby choked, and Venn and Finn both tensed. But her crying continued without another hitch. The sound was desperate. Heartbreaking.
Venn’s voice gentled even further. “Finn, where’s your mother? Your baby sister needs to eat.”
The boy’s knuckles went white around the knife.
It was the little girl who answered, her voice far too solemn for one so young. “Mama’s over there,” she said, pointing.
Venn followed her finger, and his stomach dropped as he spotted the wrapped body through the trees. It was some distance away, which was how he’d missed it initially. Laid out by other rocks, the gray blanket had blended in.
“Finn’s trying to dig a hole,” the girl continued. “But the ground is very hard, and he only has a rock—”
“Shh!” Finn hissed. “Don’t say anything else.”
Venn spotted the blisters on Finn’s hands now. The cuts and scrapes. A boy too young to be on his own, trying to dig a grave for his dead mother. A boy who was protecting his sisters, when he also needed protection.
Fates.
Venn’s jaw was hard as stone, and his heart cracked. He tried to keep his expression from showing his reaction, though. He didn’t want to scare them. “I’m going to ask you a question,” he said softly. “And I want you to really think about your answer. I’m not going to ask if youneedhelp. I’m going to ask if youwantit. Don’t answer me right away. Take a moment. Think about it. And then answer me.” He paused, then looked Finn in the eye. “Do you want help?”
The boy said nothing, and even the little girl stayed quiet.
Then the blade faltered in the boy’s hand. He swallowed hard, and shot a look toward his baby sister who was still crying, then at his little sister he still gripped so tightly. Finally, his gaze darted to his mother’s body.
When he looked back to Venn, there were tears in his eyes. “Yes,” he whispered, his breath hitching. “Please help us.”
Venn loosed a slow breath. Thank the fates the boy had asked. He wouldn’t have left these children alone, no matter Finn’s answer, but it was much easier this way. “I’ll help you,” he promised. He glanced over the camp once more. “Your father isn’t here, is he Finn?”
The boy’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “No. We’re alone.”
The terror that edged those words brought out every protective instinct Venn had. He pressed his lips into a firm line. “You’re not alone anymore.”
Finn’s hand clenched around the dagger, and then he finally lowered the knife.
Vera hadn’t stayed with the horse. She’d crept up on them at some point, though—thankfully—she’d hung back until Finn’s knife had lowered. Then, when Venn said he was going to get his friend, she stepped into the clearing.
Venn didn’t scold her for following him; he was just grateful she was here.
She smiled at the children as she came to stand by Venn. “My name is Vera. And you’ve already met Venn. What are your names?”
Venn would have bet anything that Vera had been hiding in the trees long enough to have heard Finn’s name, but the boy cleared his throat. “I’m Finn. This is Sarah.”
The little girl waved shyly, a thumb still in her mouth.
