“Here,” I murmured as I re-emerged from the semi-dark canopy. I dropped a handmade bag, stuffed full of nuts and acorn bread, at his feet. “There’s a small stream just through this clearing. Walk through there,” I said, pointing. “You can’t miss it.”
His children fell on the bag immediately, stuffing bits of bread into their mouths while cracking walnuts.
“Thank you,” Jake said, pressing his hand to his heart.
“I don’t have enough food stored up to feed everyone,” I warned.
“Teach me,” he said, holding eye contact.
In the face of his determination to survive, I could do nothing except agree. I nodded. “Find somewhere to sleep tonight,” I said and turned to leave.
“Take us with you!” the woman screamed.
I dropped to my stomach, arms and legs clinging to the branch in fear. After a few moments of desperately listening for the sounds of approaching slavers, I glared at the hysterical idiot. “Control yourself,” I hissed, anger making my thin veil of civilization disappear.
Jake moved to put a hand on the woman’s arm. “Tomorrow?” he asked, his eyes begging me to forgive her.
“I’ll find you,” I said and fled. It was winter—I had no idea how these people expected me to keep them alive with no food, but I decided to try.
In the morning, I traversed my treetop highway until I returned to the place they had been. I could track them easily from the trees, so I had no doubt the slavers would find it even easier to hunt them down.
“Lesson one,” I said, descending from my perch, my feet touching the ground for the first time in at least a week. “They can track you easily through the snow—cover your tracks.” I demonstrated as their eyes followed my every movement.
“Your clothes are funny,” the youngest boy said, plucking at my pants.
“I made them,” I said, more than a little uncomfortable with his proximity.
Jake pulled his son closer. “Do they keep you warm?”
“Very, but I keep moving most of the day—especially when it’s really cold,” I replied, fidgeting.
Luckily, they all appeared to be dressed for the weather—it had taken me months of trial and error to create the rough wool-like cloth I now wore as a sweater. I’d made it from strips of well-worn plant fibers and the threads of my old clothing. My pants were even more unique, fashioned from large chunks of tree bark and my original pants’ remains. I looked like a crazy, battle-ready forest nymph, and I knew it.
“Tell me about the war,” I said abruptly, wanting some give and take from our relationship.
“Well, after Tritan fell, we knew Elora was next. The Empire of Caledonia has been forcibly taking over countries for years now—we didn’t think they would come as far north as Tritan and Elora. We’re peaceful, developed countries, for God’s sake, and we’ve never had problems with the Caledonians before.” He paused to eat some dried berries from the fresh bag I had brought before continuing. “Tritan fell so quickly that we didn’t have a chance to help, but it gave us time to shore up our defenses.” He shrugged, a bitter pinch between his brows. “Didn’t make much of a difference. Their elites used your priestesses like supercharged batteries, and they’ve spent a good amount of time developing new weapons. They’re unstoppable.” When I grimaced, he apologized, though he couldn’t have known the cause of my discomfort. “We left before they took the capital, and we’ve been running ever since.”
“How long?” I asked.
“About a week.”
It was my turn to frown. Assuming the slavers would be busy rounding up the Elorans still within the city, we would have some time before they came searching for this ragged little family and others like them. Time enough to get them to safety if I were lucky and the weather held.
“So how about you?” he asked, taking another mouthful from his pile of food. “What’s your name? How long have you been in these woods?”
“I think that’s enough for today,” I said, standing abruptly. After so much time alone, I was extremely uncomfortable around others and had no desire to talk about my most horrific memories. I practically launched myself into the trees in my haste to get away from the offer of friendship in Jake’s eyes. Friends died, and I couldn’t afford the risk of caring for these people only to lose them to slavers or starvation.
Almost against my will, I found myself returning daily, hungry for the knowledge and companionship they offered. I brought them food every day, greatly depleting my stores until they figured out how to trap their own animals.
About a week after meeting them, I arrived in their camp just as Jake was gutting and cleaning a rabbit. My stomach lurched at the bloody sight, and I felt a little piece of my heart crumble in sadness at the waste of life. Though I couldn’t expect Jake to let his family starve to death, I was still repulsed by his actions.
“Join us for dinner,” he said gleefully, holding up the bloody, skinless carcass of the rabbit. I felt the blood drain from my face, and I took an involuntary step back.
“No, thank you,” I said in barely more than a whisper. Frowning upon seeing my reaction, he shook his head.
“You Tritans are soft-hearted, aren’t you?” he asked with a genuine smile.
“I tried to kill a rabbit once. Couldn’t do it,” I said, laughing nervously.
