She takes a step closer to him and pokes him right in the chest. “It’s a shame he didn’t have a knife in his hand.”
He inhales like he’s going to spew venom, but I have no desire to see them start shooting at each other again, so I step forward and put a hand on Rocco’s arm.
“I think we can all appreciate that this was a misunderstanding,”I say. I look at the woman, whose skin seems to have paled further. “What’s your name? I have supplies. I can treat your arm. There’s a lot of blood. That needs stitching.”
“Blood?” The woman blinks at me, then turns to look. “It just stings a little—”
Her voice breaks off as she sees all the blood, which has slowed, but now coats the back side of her arm and drips onto her skirts. The skin is torn down to her elbow, a bit of muscle showing.
“Oh,” she says, quite simply. Then her skin slips from light brown to ashen gray, and her knees buckle.
I rush forward to catch her, but Rocco is quicker, and he looks aggrieved—but he eases her into his arms. Her head lolls to the side, falling against his neck.
He rolls his eyes and blows a tuft of her hair away from his face. “As I said, Miss Tessa. Trouble knew where to find us.”
“I know,” I sigh. “That’s why I brought bandages. Come on.”
For as much blood as there is, the wound actually isn’t very big, and I’m able to get four stitches in place before the woman starts to come around. She shot a bolt into our pack, but it didn’t pierce anything essential. Rocco pulled it free, then reclaimed all of the bolts he shot, and now he stands over us, looking out into the trees.
“Come on, boy,” he calls. His voice has lost most of its edge. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
Rustling sounds from among the trees, but Ellmo doesn’t appear.
I tip some water from a canteen onto a twist of muslin and begin to wipe the worst of the blood from the woman’s arm. “I’m glad you didn’t shoot him,” I say.
“I’m not going to shoot a child for throwingrocksat me, Miss Tessa.” He looks out into the woods again. “Come on,” he calls again. “Your mother will likely be worried if you aren’t here when she wakes.”
I wet another piece of muslin and hold it out to him. “Here. You have some blood on your forehead. How’s your other wound?”
“It’s fine,” he says dismissively. But he takes the muslin and wipes at his face.
More leaves rustle, but Ellmo remains hidden.
“Maybe I should whistle for you like a dog,” Rocco calls.
“Maybe I should whistle foryoulike a dog,” the boy calls back, but he sounds closer than I expected.
I wet another fold of muslin and tap it against the woman’s forehead. “What’s your mother’s name?” I call. “Do you want to come help me wake her up?”
This silence is a little more pointed, and after a minute, the boy pops out from behind a tree off to my right. “Her name is Olive, but everyone used to call her Livvy.”
Used to?I think. But I pat the woman’s face again with the damp muslin. “Olive?” I say. “Olive, wake up.”
Her eyelids flutter. She lifts a hand to her head.
The boy comes a little closer, sneaking through the underbrush. “Mama?”
The woman’s eyes open, snapping between me and Rocco at once. “Ellmo?” she says, trying to shove herself upright. “Where’s Ellmo?”
“He’s fine,” I say. “Go slow.”
She ignores me and sits up too fast—but as soon as she sees her son between the trees, she heaves a breath of relief. She looks down at her arm and then at me. “Thank you.” She flexes her elbow, thenwinces. “I’m sorry I shot at you. When I saw the boat—I worried it was a scouting boat since you were on this side of the island. I thought Oren’s people had found their way to Fairde again.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should have thought. We didn’t mean to scare you.” I pause. “I’m Tessa Cade, and this is Erik Rocco. Like I said, we were on the ship from Kandala. Who are Lina and Mouse?”
“Some of Oren Crane’s worst henchmen. She’s vicious. I’ve seen her cut people apart. Mouse just does what he’s told—and he’s big enough to do a lot of bad things.” She shudders. “I hadn’t heard that Galen had returned, but we don’t get many visitors out here. Ever since . . .” Her voice trails off, and she glances at her son. “Well, it’s been a few years now. But we keep to ourselves.”
Ever since.I want to ask what, but I can guess. Our empty house is proof that something terrible happened on this side of the island.
