She was outside.She wasoutside, and there were deer and foxes and magpies and rabbits, and the sky was endless and bonnie, and yes, she'd been kidnapped, and yes, Mollie was dead, and yes, everything was terrible and uncertain and frightening.
But God,oh God, she was outside.
6
"How long has it been?"
Maia askedafter what couldn't have been more than thirty seconds.
"Thirty seconds."
"Oh."A pause. "And now?"
"Thirty-five seconds."
Maia squirmed slightly against him."This is harder than I thought."
"That'sbecause ye never stop talkin'," Ewan muttered.
"I'm talkin'now because I'm askin' about the time, which is different from talkin' about things I see, so really this doesnae count against me eight minutes."
"It counts."
"But."
"It counts, lass. Every. Word."
Another pause.Ewan could practically feel her vibrating with the effort of staying quiet.
"What if I see somethin'really excitin'?" she asked.
"Then ye stay silent and point."
"But what ifye daenae see where I'm pointin' and ye miss it entirely, and then later I'll have to describe it anyway, which means I've wasted me silence for nothin'?"
"Seven and a half minutes left."
Maia made a small,frustrated sound but finally went quiet.
Ewan countedthe seconds in his head, how long she could stay quiet. One. Two. Three. Four.
"Is it seven minutes yet?"
Just four seconds.She can stay quiet for just four seconds.
"Nay."
"How much longer?"
"Longer than itwas five seconds ago when ye asked."
"This is so annoyin'.”And she fell silent again.
Ewan had always preferred silence.
Silence was safe.Predictable. It didn't demand responses or force unwanted emotions to the surface. His father had been a man of violent words, and his mother had wielded her tongue like a weapon, so Ewan had learned early that the less he spoke, the less ammunition he gave them.
Silence had become his armor,and he wore it well.
