“My point is,” Harlee resolutely continues, “we could spend the next few days setting up a proper bedroom for Lydia. She could have her own space. Then maybe?—”
I step through the doorway.
“You can’t go after her!” Harlee makes as if to follow, glances at herself under her new blanket and changes her mind.
“Of course I can.”
Lydia already has a head start. I do not know exactly when she left, but it could have been hours ago.
“She doesn’t want you to follow her. Her note said she needs space.”
I dismiss her words. “I am going.”
“No.” This time Harlee does stand, more securely wrapping the blanket around herself. She looks ready to follow me all the way back to my house.
While I could easily outpace her, if she decides to send Roan to follow me in her stead, I will be stuck with my brother and likely strangle the annoying shit.
“Lydia is not safe,” I argue.
“How?” Harlee sounds braver than I have ever heard her. “How isn’t Lydia safe?”
“She…she…” It is my turn to splutter. “She could get lost down there.”
“I’m pretty sure Lydia would’ve thought of that herself. She’ll have a plan. You can’t—and he’s gone.”
Her protests grow distant as I stride along the corridor leading back to my house. I listen for Roan’s footsteps, intending to fight my brother if need be, but he does not come after me, mayhaps because Harlee has finally accepted that I cannot be persuaded otherwise.
Lydia has left, and I fully intend to—what? I demand of myself.What am I going to do?Drag her back to my house?
My feet stumble. My resolve wanes.
I cannot do to her what John Smith did. If I were to drag her back, Lydia would spend the rest of her life fighting me, and I cannot bear the idea of causing her more hurt than I alreadyhave. She was brought to Ril II because of me. I will not be the one to force her to remain.
I can, however, follow at a discreet distance to ensure she remains safe. I was not lying when I said Lydia could become lost. There is a maze of caves below, and if smudged writing on cloth is her only means of recordkeeping, she is more than likely to lose her way.
I can keep her safe. Even if I cannot persuade her to stay with me.
Chapter Fifteen
Lydia
Running away takes a lot of work. Had I more time to plan, I might have been enjoying myself. Acting on the spur of the moment isn’t something I’m practiced at doing well, and I keep worrying I’ve forgotten something important.
I also haven’t gotten far for someone who’s been walking as fast as she can. I want to put a fair amount of distance between me and the others, in case someone decides to come after me. I don’t want them having an easy job finding me. But I’mstillin the brothers’ farm, traipsing from algae lake to algae lake, searching for a way to reach the unexplored section of the caves. The only tunnels that have been artificially widened by Killan’s family are the ones they use for the farm itself. And while I keep finding cracks in the rock wall through which I can glimpse brand-new caves, I can’t fit through any of them.
Hours must have passed, and I kept glancing over my shoulder, half expecting to see Killan stalking up behind me. If that were to happen…I admit to being afraid of how I’d react. Our kiss cemented in my consciousness exactly how physicallyattracted to him I am. It’s a fact now, not the mad ravings of my imagination, not an untested hypothesis.
Right when I’m on the verge of despairing that I’ll never get away, I finally find a natural tunnel that I can squeeze through. My duffle bag almost gets stuck, and I have to turn sideways, but I eventually make it through by holding my breath.
My mouth drops open. The natural cave is stunning.
It’s roughly half the size of a sports field, with stalactites clinging to the ceiling like icicles and stalagmites reaching out of the ground toward the cave roof. Some are as tall as me and twice as thick. Others are so spindly I’m sure they would break if I leaned my weight against them. In a few places, the stalactites are so long and the stalagmites so tall that they meet in the middle, creating elegant columns, like what you’d see on a holiday to Greece.
I dump my duffle bag on the ground. Maybe running away wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
At the center of the cave, where the floor dips lowest, is a small lake. More of a pond. What little light creeps through the crack from the farm cave into the natural cave is reflecting off the perfectly still and perfectly silent water, creating a halo that dances over the closest columns. Beyond that, the rock is so black, I can’t distinguish between what’s stone and what are shadows.
Which…makes me realize I did, in fact, forget something important. A torch.
