From the way she is frowning, whatever she intends to say next cannot be good.
Foolish mouth. Now I have made things awkward. I need to fix this.
“We should seek shelter before the night finds us.”
She lifts her gaze toward the gray clouds swallowing the sky above.
“Darkness will come quicker than in your world,” I add. She is used to Seelie sunlight that never seems to go away.
With a nod, she rises and crosses the stones to where her garments wait, while I pick at what is left of the fish, filling my belly with cold meat.
She returns a moment later carrying both garments, along with her mud-caked slippers. “My clothes are still damp.”
This is what I was afraid of. “When we make camp, we can hang them over the fire. Until then, you may wear mine.” If only I had a shirt to offer as well. This would be only the second good reason to wear one.
“What will you wear?”
“The air does not bother me.” The only cold I feel is that which lives inside a lonely heart.
My trousers are far too large, but with the belt high on her waist, Nia is able to keep them up well enough to traverse the shore. Although my hunger is far from satiated, it would be unwise to waste time trying to catch another fish. We will remain close to the river so that I can return for more once we find somewhere safe to spend this night.
Luck is upon us, and we find a space beneath an overhanging rock that is not far from where we ate. When it is time to build a fire, Nia asks to help. The determined set of her shoulders makes me think this is important to her, so I teach her once more how to coax the fire into existence. By the time she succeeds, darkness has fallen.
She sits close to me, her thigh and arm pressed against mine. The crackle and pop of fire fills our silence, orange flames licking at the dark. Nia’s head falls onto my shoulder, her breathsdeepening with sleep. I settle my back against the hard stone and let myself pretend that she is mine.
26
“Don’t give out. Give in.”
— Author Unknown
Iwake to the smell of smoke, the sound of a crackling fire, the feel of my shift draped across my bare arms, and the sight of Maddox cooking two more fish.
The way he’s used the slate as a cooking pan of sorts is genius; I certainly wouldn’t have thought of that.
His head snaps up, and his lips form a smile. “Good morning, Nia Quill. How did you sleep?”
“Surprisingly well.” All things considered. “You?”
“It was a good night.”
My shift slips to my lap when I sit up and stretch my arms above my head. This new angle affords me an unobstructed view of the ground where he crouches...and the leather rucksack sitting next to him.
“Is that . . . ?”
The skin around his eyes crinkles when his smile widens. “My rucksack. Yes. I found it this morning, hooked on a limb upriver. It must have fallen when we did.”
“I can’t believe you found it.”
“Our luck is changing, Nia Quill.”
Thank heavens for that. We’re in dire need of some good luck. I roll to my feet and join him by the fire. When we settle in for breakfast, I discover the fish has been pleasantly seasoned with a mix of pepper and spices. “This is really good.”
“It pleases me to know you like it.” From his rucksack, he withdraws a large canteen filled with water.
Our luck is changing, indeed.
I drink my fill, and he has a few sips without me having to prompt him.
