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Moonless

Page 157

by Leah Ryan

Mel’s knife stops against the board. She pushes the cut roots into the pot and lowers it over the coals.

Kestria sits back against the cloak, and I wait until she reaches for me. She lays her fingers over my wrist.

Mel brings bread and cups, putting them where the children can reach without climbing.

She gives Kestria water first, then sets a cup beside my right hand. “Drink that. Both of you. You’ve walked far enough for today.”

I drink it. I’ve seen her swat Keer. I never thought I’d be afraid of a human I could carry under one arm.

Kestria drinks, and her brother lets go of the edge of the table.

Mel picks the knife back up. “And after that?”

Kestria lowers the cup. “He wouldn’t let me leave. You know that part.”

She says it plain. I’d rather that.

Mel doesn’t look up. “I do.”

Axan shifts his bad wrist in his lap. “We’d have found you sooner. Somebody dragged your scent halfway down the valley, and we followed it for days.”

“That was me.” Kestria doesn’t look at her brother. “I picked the last tree.”

Keer’s eye comes to me and stays there. He doesn’t ask. He can look all he likes, so I look back.

Kestria puts her cup down. “He took me fishing, Keer. I was terrible at it.”

“You caught one,” I tell her.

“Eventually.”

“You threw it at my head.”

Axan looks at her. “That sounds more familiar.”

“It was meant for his hands,” Kestria tells him.

I keep my ears still. “My nose interfered. So I’m told.”

She laughs and catches her ribs, still looking at me. I’d take the fish in the face again for that.

Mel points the knife at the bow beside our sack. “That’s yours?”

Kestria looks over at it. “He made it for me. I caught four fish with it before these two found me.”

Axan breaks a piece off the bread. “We heard about the fish.”

Kestria doesn’t let it go. “You left them in the dirt! You’re going to keep hearing about them.”

He puts the bread in his mouth. Keer reaches for a piece, but Eskan gets there first.

Mel turns the meat while Kestria tells her about cooking for herself and the herbs she found.

“And I’ve been living in his shirts.” Kestria pulls at the front of it. “I could fit Birdie in here with me.”

Mel looks at the cuff folded around her wrist, then at me. “Yes. I can see how that would be a problem.”

“They were what I had,” I tell her.