He acts one way, but says another, and I’m so confused. I don’t know whether to believe his words or his actions, and don’tunderstand why they don’t match. All I can think right now is maybe I don’t want to be mad anymore, and maybe he doesn’t either, but both of us are too stubborn to give in.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Time passes slowly as we sit in hiding, waiting for the Voyager to walk through the side of the cliff. My legs are stiff and I’m eager to get out of this place, not only to work the tension from my limbs, but also to end all the uninterrupted thinking.
Stewing in my thoughts hasn’t helped at all, and I feel even more confused than before.
Movement catches my eye, and I peer over the boulders toward the portal where a tall, shadowy figure appears. It can’t be Mara, and I’m almost relieved until my heart stutters.
Did Dane find the waters?
Weston stands silently from his position and strides across the beach, sword drawn as he slowly creeps toward the open sand. My breath catches in my throat and panic rises in my chest. What if that is Dane? Weston is going out to confront him, alone. What if Dane hurts him again?
My muscles seize as I hold myself back from storming out behind him, and instead I watch with bated breath as he slinks into position behind the Voyager.
Is this how Weston feels whenever I put myself at risk?
Sig and Stass both pull their scarves over their faces, and I follow suit. They slide out silently from behind the boulder, their movements small so as not to draw attention, but mine are not the same. I can’t pay attention to what I am doing. I can only watch Weston.
The figure takes slow steps down the beach, his shoulders slumped and head hung as he kicks the sand. My panic calms slightly when I watch his mannerisms. I know how Dane moves and the way he walks. This person can’t be Dane, which means it has to be someone else.
He must have been unworthy, too.
The rest of the Castaways are moving, creeping across the sand and slowly surrounding Weston and the figure from behind.
Weston levels his sword at the man’s back, and his voice rings out over the quiet beach.
“Stop where you are.”
The figure freezes in front of him before turning around quickly, his eyes drawn right to Weston’s blade. Everyone moves quickly after that, encircling the pair, just as they did with me, cutting off all pathways to escape. If he tries, he’s going to have to go through one of us.
I fall in next to Sig, not knowing if there’s something I should be doing. I was too focused on Weston holding me captive with my dagger to know what the rest of the crew did.
The Voyager looks up at Weston, and his eyes widen with fear.
Taril.
The last time I saw him, he was showing me to the cabin at camp, helping me prepare for the night that would change everything, the night they took Fin.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Weston says, but Taril doesn’t hear it. He’s too focused on everything else, frantically looking around at all of us, masked and surrounding him.
“You’re going to come with us now,” Weston says, and that catches Taril’s attention.
Taril’s gaze shifts back to Weston, then beyond again, moving from person to person. It’s easy to see the thoughts run through his head, assessing the threat and trying to decide what to do. The fingers on his hand twitch, as if he’s thinking about grabbing his blade and striking at Weston.
Instinct takes over, and I can’t stop myself. I can’t just stand here and watch Weston get attacked. He told us to let him handle whatever goes poorly, but all I can think about is Dane slicing him open and how, even through all the anger, I don’t want to watch him be hurt again. Especially if there’s something I can do about it.
“Taril, don’t!” I call out, charging forward from my spot in the circle and holding my hands out, my arms held up, showing him I’m not trying to attack him.
Taril pulls his gaze away from Weston and it falls on me, right as I pull the scarf down under my chin.
“Lennox?” he says, his eyes widening.
“It’s alright, Taril. Just listen to him. He’s telling the truth. We won’t hurt you.”
Weston’s eyes sear the side of my face as I stand next to him, but I refuse to look over, keeping my focus on Taril.
“Are you trying to trick me?” Taril asks, directing his question at me.
