The three women looked up from their food, Lyndal’s eyes narrowing.
‘The forest will be cleared out by now. You have to go early if you stand a chance of finding any.’
Blake was backing out of the room. ‘Can’t hurt to check.’
She did not wait around for a reply. Turning, she walked into the shop and snatched Eda’s wet cloak off the stand by the door, swinging it over her shoulders as she stepped out into the drizzle. She tugged up the hood and headed for the forest.
When she reached the trees, she moved from trunk to trunk, looking for the wood shavings Harlan had shown her the first day they met. She crouched when she finally found some, trailing a finger up to the hole in the trunk. Pulling out her dagger, she began carving into the wood until she glimpsed a fat white grub. She stared at it for the longest time, hunger wrestling with her mind.
Hunger won.
Blake fetched it out with the tip of her knife and held it in her damp open palm. She watched it writhe for a moment, then, closing her eyes, dropped it into her mouth. She chewed as fast as she could, nauseated by the pop and crunch, then surprised by the slightly sweet taste. She swallowed. It was no replacement for eggs, but it was better than the persistent hunger that had shadowed her for weeks.
With a resigned exhale, she rose and continued her hunt.
Chapter 12
Harlan had just returned from the port borough when he spotted Lyndal leaning against the wall ten feet from the entrance. She straightened when she saw him and raised her hand in a small wave. More of a beckoning than a greeting. He made his way over.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, stopping in front of her. His first thought was Blake. Maybe someone had stolen her eggs on the walk home. Maybe that someone had hurt her. She probably tried to fight them off instead of just surrendering the eggs, believing her knife-throwing skills would save her somehow. ‘Where’s Blake?’
Lyndal’s eyebrows rose. ‘Oh. She went to the forest. Something about mushrooms.’
He relaxed.
‘Quick question,’ she said, finding a smile. ‘This might sound strange, but did you buy Blake nuts at the market this morning?’
His brow pinched. ‘What? No. I bought her eggs.’ He realised why she had asked that. ‘She tell you I did?’
A nod.
‘She didn’t eat any of the eggs, did she?’
She sighed. ‘No, and she ran away before I figured it out.’
Harlan walked off, and Lyndal hurried after him.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked.
‘To strangle your sister.’
Lyndal had to jog to keep up. ‘I’m going to assume you’re joking.’
‘She’s like a child in need of constant adult supervision, and somehow that’s fallen to me.’
It was clear Blake was trying to step up as the provider of the household now that her brother was gone. And her uncle was as useless as a glass hammer.
Lyndal gave up her chase, stopping in the middle of the road. ‘I saved her some of my egg. Tell her that—if you find her.’
He would find her. He did not have a choice. Left to her own devices, she would likely starve to death.
Harlan headed straight for the forest. It was a sizeable area, but his tracking skills were sharp enough to pick up her movements. He followed them, soundless, until he spotted Blake crouched in front of a tree, carving into the trunk. He remained hidden for a moment, watching as she pulled an aureate grub out with her knife and tossed it into her mouth. She closed her eyes and chewed, swallowing quickly, then turned, back sliding down the tree. Her facade was down. She looked exhausted, depleted—and still beautiful. Her eyes closed as she leaned her head back.
Harlan stepped out from his hiding place and walked over to her. He was about to speak when Blake sprang to her feet with surprising agility, a knife pointed at his face. He caught her wrist. Normally, anyone who pointed a weapon at him would be disarmed and lying face down in the mud a beat later, but he let her go the second she relaxed her arm.
‘You scared me,’ she said, lowering the knife. ‘What are you doing out here?’
‘Why didn’t you eat the egg?’
