Page 110 of Stormbreaker

“You?” he asks, quickly withdrawing his hand. “How does it make you feel?”

“Something like that, too,” I reply.

His gaze lifts to mine, and despite his claim that he didn’t want to talk about this, I get the sense that maybe he needs me as much as I need him right now.

We start moving again, emerging on the far side of the barrier and heading to the low stone sitting in the center. “Sometimes I wonder if someone left these here,” I say. “Some other Keeper who needed this spot, too.”

Rook glances around and then at me before he turns to the sky. We stand side by side, watching the small lilac bursts flashing in the distance.

We lean against the rocks, and Rook pulls something out of his pocket. It’s a tarnished metal circle with a lid, and he flips it open to reveal a glass face with a spinning dial underneath.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“A compass,” he answers. “You use it to tell what direction is north.”

He holds it out to show me, and I watch as it spins and then settles, pointing toward the Wastes. I remember that he has something similar tattooed on his arm.

“Is that how you got here?” I ask, and he nods.

“Partly, yeah.” He points to the sky, and I look up. “Also using the stars.”

“The stars?”

“It’s how they navigated the earth during the Warming Age before they had the right technology. And they used these.”

He holds up the compass and snaps it shut. “My dad got it off a scavenger a long time ago and gave it to me when he realized I was interested in stuff like this.”

“Stuff like this?” I ask. “You have those tattoos, too. They look like maps.”

He nods. “I’ve always been fascinated with . . . adventure, I guess you’d call it. With the places beyond that we lost.”

“Is that why you came here?”

He glances at me and then looks away. “In part.” He points to the sky. “You can’t see it because of the clouds, but if you look that way, you’d find the North Star, and there you’d find Ursa Major and Minor.”

“What are those?”

“Constellations. Basically, clusters of stars that ancient people believed were the manifestation of gods living in the sky.”

I blink up at the clouds. “Like pictures?”

“Not quite. They’re more abstract than that.”

“Do you have a favorite?”

He seems to consider the question. “Maybe Andromeda. Lately, I’ve become more interested in it.”

“Why?”

He shrugs and shakes his head. “I guess it reminds me of someone.”

I think again of some beautiful girl he left behind as sharp pins fill my stomach.

“That’s a pretty name. What does it look like?”

“I’ll show you a picture sometime.”

“Okay,” I say as I follow the direction of his distant stare, wondering what’s on his mind.