“Oh?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He looks thrilled—so thrilled in fact that my stomach plunges. “I can actually punch you now. Or stab you. You think about that before you move on my sister.”
Max drops her gaze to her bowl, biting back a smile. “You two are impossible.”
Nick brushes the exchange off with an evil grin. “According to Mabel’s map, the path will narrow soon, switching from soft soil to more exposed rock. And we’ll lose most of the tree cover halfway up.”
“What’s waiting for us at the top?” I ask.
“That’s where the rebel camp is.” He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Right across the border to the Summerlands. The Reds can’t cross into that territory to hunt us, not without starting a bigger war.”
Max’s expression turns serious. “But is it safe?”
“As safe as can be.”
The fire cracks softly between us.
“Then we climb,” Max says, her knee brushing mine.
“We climb,” I agree.
After a second refill of soup, I pace away from the fire.
Unfortunately, having a body again also means dealing with its quieter inconveniences, like the sudden and very human need to pee. I push through the low branches until the glow of the fire fades and Max’s and Nick’s voices are nothing but a murmur.
I draw in the damp hints of moss and riverstone clogging the air. The ground yields beneath the soles of my shoes. Soil compresses. Pine needles shift. I glance down at the faint impressions I’ve left behind.
Evidence of my existence.
Each step is a small declaration that I’m here. I head farther still, into the thicket, and stand in the dark a moment longer than necessary, listening to the night breathe. The strange, heady comfort of being bound to gravity again tickles along my spine.
After I rejoin the comfort of firelight, we chat for a few more minutes before Nick climbs to his feet.
“I’m going to bed.” He raises a brow at his twin. “And you should, too.”
The tent they packed has enough room for me, but there’ll be no way to talk to Max in such close quarters—not with her brother lying right beside us.
“In a minute,” Max answers. “Contrary to you… I didn’t spend all of last night reading,” she teases him.
He smiles at that and heads toward the tent.
The fire burns low, reduced to a steady glow and the occasional soft crack of sap in the wood. The cold night air slips beneath the flimsy fabric of my shirt, threads through the seams, and nips at my fingers and ears. Max shifts closer without looking at me, her shoulder touching mine, then her thigh. I open my arm, and she folds into me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
We go still for a breath. Alone at last.
“Nick is right. We should go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow,” Max says.
“I’m not tired.”
I’m a little sore from the walk, but the sensation is divine. It means I’m grounded enough in life to bear the brunt of a tiring day, and that’s exhilarating. My skin prickles with excitement. The few and far-between moments I managed to touch Max back at the house were nothing compared to the vividness of our embrace now. They were nothing compared to our walk here, or to the sensation of the sun caressing my skin.
I feel incredible, almost overstimulated, as we huddle together on the flat rock, our fronts warmed by the coals, our backs claimed by the night.
“You’re shaking,” I whisper, my mouth near her temple.
“So are you,” she breathes back. “You must be freezing without a jacket. I should ask Nick if he brought a spare?—”
I pull her tighter against my chest. “Let him sleep. As long as you’re near, I’m perfect.”
