“Is it enough to risk using what little fuel we have?” Ronan challenges, and I roll my eyes.

  “If you’d let me finish, I wasn’t done. Besides the dried goods, there are greenhouses. There used to be a ton of small ones in the camp… a dozen or more. But they ended up building bigger ones that could hold larger plants, and several of the smaller ones were disassembled and stored. The parts should still be there.”

  Ronan is skeptical as he pulls his lips back, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Could you grow enough food in a single greenhouse to support the village?”

  “For this many people? Yes. We can supplement what we have in dry stores and cans. Next year we’ll expand the garden and be better prepared, but this will get us by.”

  “How do you plan on moving it?” He gestures towards the metal garage that houses our two vehicles. The SUV runs, but the damage from Elas and August’s adventures to Ljómur is significant. The van is in excellent shape, though the engine isn’t as powerful. It doesn’t drive as fast, and we have to be cautious on rough terrain.

  “There were a few vehicles at the camp that might still run, and at least one truck. If we can’t get it to start, we’ll have to strap it to the top of whichever vehicle we take and hope for the best.”

  Ronan deadpans me with that damn arched brow. “You want to tie a greenhouse on top of a van?”

  “A disassembled greenhouse, yes. That’s a very important piece of information you’re neglecting to mention.”

  Elas hums, deep in thought and ignoring our bickering. “Lillith is supposedly a decent mechanic. She talks about working on vehicles back on base. If the truck isn’t running, she might be able to fix it.”

  “There are too many ‘mights’ and ‘maybes’ in this plan to make it a good one. You’re encouraging this?” Ronan asks Elas while gesturing at me. All of me, just the complete package, like he so often does.

  Elas shrugs again and pats his stomach. “I can read between the lines about who the large appetites are,” he says, tossing me a wink as Ronan scoffs. “Building up supplies for the village is never a bad thing, Ronan. I’m surprised you’re against this.”

  “Well, he obviously can’t go by himself,” Ronan snaps, flinging a hand in my direction.

  “Aw, are you worried about me?” His eyes narrow to dangerous little slits as he glares at me for an uncomfortable amount of time.

  “It’s not just you. Elas has apparently volunteered Lillith, which means Taryn will want to tag along as well.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” I say, pushing a hand through my hair and grimacing at the resistance of the knots in my damp, filthy curls. “She’s familiar with the camp.”

  “I’m not sending two humans out there with only one person to protect them.”

  “Okay, first, Taryn and I both know how to fight. We don’t need protection.” His mouth opens like he’s going to argue, but I talk faster and add another crease to his ever-wrinkling forehead as my fuse gets shorter. “Second—and this one is very important, Ronan, so listen closely—you aren’t sending anyone anywhere. You don’t rule over the people here. If I want to go to the camp, I’ll fucking go.”

  “And take my van?” He inches closer, and I jut my chin into the air as I match his movement.

  “Your stolen van, running on my fuel! Which, might I add, you were also trying to steal!”

  “You know what?” Our noses are almost touching, and the black in his eyes expands. “You should go back. Run away and crawl into your little rat hole and just stay there, see if I—”

  “Enough!” Elas grabs us both by the scruff of our necks, like we’re no better than scolded children. He yanks us apart as if we weigh nothing, and really, the surprised, high-pitched yelp that follows could’ve come from either of us.

  I’ll never admit to it.

  “This was funny at first,” Elas growls, “but you two are a couple of turkeys out here, puffing your chests out to see who can be the biggest.”

  “We know who’s biggest,” Ronan snarls, but quiets when Elas throws him a snarl of his own.

  “Ronan, you know I love you, but I’m with Reyes on this one. You aren’t the lord reigning over his subjects here. If he wants to take a trip, he has every right, and if others want to join him, that’s their decision. Not yours.”

  They glare at each other for another long minute before Ronan’s shoulder slump, and Elas finally releases us both. Ronan pushes his fingers through his hair, but the motion is helpless, not angry. “They feel like my responsibility,” he says after a pause.

  “Everyone knows what you’ve done for us here,” I say cautiously, and when his eyes meet mine, the anger has dissipated. “What you do. Without you and Cameron, none of us would be here now. But this has to be a democracy. You can’t take away people’s choices and expect things to work, or you risk turning this place into the same one you left. You’re a good guy, Ronan. Don’t let your fear change that.”

  The rising indignation at my words fizzles out, and Ronan seems to deflate as Elas watches. He’s cautious, ready to jump in and pull his best friend off me if needed. Ronan’s hand shoots up to scrub over his face, and he groans a quiet curse into his palm. “Is that what you think I’m doing here?”

  “No,” I insist, and he drops his hands with a deep breath. “No. We all see how much you care, even if you’ll never admit it to some of us.” A tiny grin lifts the corner of his mouth, and Elas chuckles. “And I get it. Cameron is here, and his safety is your biggest concern. This whole fight wasn’t about my leaving. It was about what happens if someone sees me and follows me back.”

  Ronan slumps against the tree behind him and tilts his face up towards the sky. He looks so vulnerable in that moment, with his eyes closed and the stress lines in his forehead erased by the glow of the afternoon sun. “He lost everything at this very village because someone was careless. It was sheer luck that he wasn’t here when we attacked. If someone were to discover this place, and it were to happen again? If I couldn’t protect him?” His voice is thick with emotion so potent it causes my throat to swell. “I can’t lose him.”

  “I’ll be careful. You aren’t the only one with something to lose here, Ronan.” His eyes snap to mine, and I silently challenge him to object, but after a stretch he nods again. He says nothing, never offers his approval or acceptance of my plan, but his silent concession is enough.

  Nyx

  Boomerang’s ears lift a split second before mine, and the crunch of grass tells me who approaches. Ronan’s cadence is swift and confident, while Elas’s is meandering, like he’s never in a hurry. This one is cautious and careful. Sweet smells chase his presence like they so often do—a touch of honey and this magical peanut butter he likes to feed me.

  My katsurrel.

  “Nyx?” Reyes calls, and I sit tall from where I’m reclining on the sunbaked rocks to watch as he walks closer. His damp curls have created a ring of wet fabric around the collar of his shirt, and his mouth curves into a smile when he spots me.

  Something has changed between us. The barrier that used to guard my heart, that kept me from giving in to these feelings, was cracked at my confession of wanting to know him… of wanting him to know me. But when I acted on it by going to him? It was obliterated, and now I don't know what to do with everything I feel.

  Twice more we’ve gone to collect the eggs, and it’s comfortable. I’ve always been nervous around others, but not Reyes. He feels safe. After we get back from our walks, I’m too scared to ask him to stay. I want him to, though. My heart has always beat harder when he’s near, but now, it knocks against my chest until I’m dizzy.

  Is this ridiculous?

  He told me he thinks I am beautiful. Could he ever find me as captivating as I find him?

  “There you are,” he whispers, and a rush of emotion washes over me at those three words. They speak of this familiarity—the comfort his nearness has always brought me, even before I knew him.

  Part of me feels like I’ve known him my whole life.

  “Hi,” I whisper back, and his smile turns radiant.

  “Are you hungry? There were only a couple of muffins left, so I grabbed two before Elas or Lillith raided the kitchen.” I nod and pat the rock beside me. He comes closer, smelling like delicious food and clean soap, along with something deeper and uniquely him, like the scent of the air after a heavy rain.

  “This is for you,” he says as he hands me a muffin, and I accept it with a quiet thanks. I take a big bite, closing my eyes as the flavors dance over my tongue. A lifetime of bland food means my taste buds are more sensitive, and I enjoy every new delicious thing he brings me. Even if I didn’t like it, I would pretend I did just to make him happy. He is so proud to make something that brings me this much pleasure, and in return, I am proud to cause his smile.

  But this recipe is my favorite, and there’s nothing fake about my joy. He chuckles, and when I open one eye, he’s eating his muffin and staring off into the trees.

  We eat in relative silence, but he shows his nerves in subtle ways. Reyes and I often sit without speaking, but it’s never uneasy like this. His shoulders are stiff, and his fingers tighten and loosen as they fidget with his shorts. Eye contact is fleeting, and he glances away quickly when it happens. I wonder if I’ve done something to upset him… unknowingly crossed a line, or made a mistake that I don’t understand.

  I wonder if I’ve gotten it all wrong.

  He takes the last bite of his food and dusts the crumbs from his hands, still with that uncertainty about him. I’m gathering my courage, convincing myself to ask, when he turns to me.

  “Do you want to take a walk?” he asks, and I try again to decipher his guardedness. When I can’t find any answers in his expression, I give in and agree with a nod.

  We move from the rocks to the small pathway, where our frequent trips out here have created an opening in the plants. Soon we’re past the higher traffic areas, and the underbrush becomes lush. We have to dodge the twisted roots that poke from the ground and weave between dense tree trunks. The trickle of the creek fades, and the birds grow louder.

  It’s clear Reyes wants to say something. He bites his lip and takes deep breaths as if he’s preparing to speak, but never does. As we get deeper into the forest with no set destination, a star-shaped leaf catches my eye on the ground.

  “Maple,” he says as I pick it up and twirl it in my fingers. He watches me with a smile, but there’s still so much conflict in his eyes. He gestures up at the canopy of leaves, then walks over and pats a gnarled trunk. “The name of the tree. We should come out one day and mark them so we can tap them.”

  “Tap?” I ask as I trace my fingers along the deep ridges of the bark.

  Reyes chuckles, some of his tension dissipating as he grins at me. “They have a liquid inside them called sap, and it’s very sweet. If you cook it over the fire long enough, it turns into syrup like the bottles Cameron has locked away.”

  My eyes widen as I continue to pet the tree… the Maple. “There is sweet inside?”

  “There is. One day we’ll bring some rope and mark the maples we find. If it gets cold enough to tap them this year, we can do it together.”

  “I like together,” I say, then blush and duck my head as I sense his eyes on me.

  “I like together, too, Nyx.”

  Avoiding his gaze, I wander a few steps deeper into the trees and crouch beside a green leafy plant. A deep burgundy flower blooms from its center, and I run my fingers over the petals. “What is this one?”

  Footsteps approach, and Reyes squats so close, our knees nearly touch. “Trilium,” he answers, then smiles as I test the word out loud. “Some of them have white or yellow flowers, too, but this color is my favorite.”

  It’s my favorite, too. The color reminds me of the sunlight shining through his dark curls, and that’s what drew me to this flower. I want to tell him that, and let him know how often I think of him. But my words refuse to work right now, and my mind is too cloudy to share this secret. It seems like it needs to be shared, because I think it would make him happy.

  In the end, I only nod.

  Soon enough, Reyes stands and puts more distance between us, and I want to say something about that, too. Ask him not to go, and tell him I like it when he’s closer. That I’m empty when he’s too far.

  But I can’t.

  So I don’t.

  We continue to walk through the woods, and he shows me Oak and Tulip Poplar, and Black-Eyed-Susan in a sunny opening. He shares every name he knows, and even stops me from touching an Ivy he says will hurt me. The vibrant green, three-pronged leaves flutter in the wind. They don’t look so dangerous to me, but I allow him to steer me away.

  I tell him how Birch reminds me of the Aadlan trees I climbed as a child, with their silvery smooth bark, and how Fern is like the Eivlonna that chased the riverbanks. He listens, rapt, and asks me questions that prove what he said to me weeks ago.

  My words are important to him.

  We’ve been climbing in elevation as we walk, but I don’t realize how far we’ve gone until we step out onto a rocky overlook. It balconies a ridged valley, and the trees are endless on the horizon. The sun’s rays are harsh, but a heavy breeze surges from the vale and blows over my skin. Leaves flutter and the wind whispers as it cuts through the forest. My ears twitch at the faint rush of water—a finger of the creek, perhaps, or a small waterfall within these hills.

  Reyes takes a seat on the rocks, and I follow, perching on a flat surface nearby. “Do you think anyone has ever sat here before?” His quiet question breaks the silence, and I glance over to find him staring off into the distance. “It’s strange to think about, isn’t it? The difference between the world a hundred years ago and now. My ancestors could’ve hiked in these same hills. They could’ve sat right here with the same breeze blowing through these same trees, but everything is so different.”

  “Life changes. We cannot stop it, even if we want to.” His focused attention turns to me, and it’s my turn to gaze off into the distance. If I’m looking at him, I won’t be able to say what I want to say. “My life is three worlds. The before that I barely remember. My life… there.” A deep sorrow fills his eyes as I meet them for a fleeting second. “And here, with you.” He swallows, his fingers flexing against his shorts, but he doesn’t need words to show me he understands. The churning in my stomach makes me hesitate, but I push through, drawing my bravery from the open world surrounding us. “I think… everything else wasn’t real. But this is… you are real. Life starts now.”

  “Your past doesn’t have to be real if you don’t want it to be, Nyx.”

  “I don’t,” I whisper, closing my eyes against the sun. “I wish I could pretend it never happened.”

  Reyes pauses for a moment, his voice thick as he says, “If only I could do that for you. Take away the memories of everything that hurt you.” He shifts, and I open my eyes to stare at the stretch of rock between us, where his hand inches closer to mine. “But only you get to decide when your life begins, Nyx. Don’t give them that power.”

  “I do not even remember my birthday.”

  “Then we’ll give you a new one. We’ll figure out the date they freed you from that cage, or if you don’t want that day, we’ll make one up. Any day you want. That will be your birthday.”

  “Okay,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. “You will be with me for my birthday?”

  “Of course I will be,” he breathes, and my chest feels like it might split open wide with the way my heart pounds.

  “What will we do?”

  Reyes’s laugh is choked, and another of these tiny smiles tugs at my lips. The first time I felt one, I didn’t understand what it was. Muscles that had been dormant for decades were confused at the slivers of happiness, but I welcomed it all the same. “We’ll eat cake, obviously.”

  “My peanut butter cakes?” I ask, wiggling my feet against the mossy stone.

  “Oh, no. We’ll make something even better. It’ll be so sweet, your teeth will hurt from the sugar and your stomach will ache later.”

  I wrinkle my nose as he chuckles. “That sounds awful.”

  “It does, but I promise you, it’ll be amazing.”

  “If you promise, it must be true.” I peek at him to find him like me, with his eyes closed and face towards the sun, but there’s peace in his expression. We fall into another comfortable silence that isn’t quite as oppressive.

  A thought that has plagued my mind for weeks emerges, and this time, I give it a voice. “Are the others frustrated with me?”

  “What?” Reyes asks, sitting up and leaning forward until his shadow covers me. The sun makes a halo around him and darkens his face, but as I squint, I can see his confusion. “Why would they be?”

  “Everyone waits on me… to take them to the rifts. They do nothing because of me. It is my fault we stand still.”

  “That isn’t true,” he argues. “Think about everything that’s happening in the village right now. Harvesting, and repairing houses, and making this place a functional home again.”

  “But I promised.”

  “You can keep that promise when you’re ready, and not a moment before.”

  “I wish I was not so scared,” I whisper, and Reyes’s face contorts as his eyes turn sad. If the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t have these hesitations. Wouldn’t wake up at night terrified at the mere thought of leaving this place. A lifetime spent in a cage means I’ve become comfortable standing still, being stagnant. In its own way, the village is its own special sort of cage. It may not be made of iron bars, but it holds me regardless. “The world is so big.”

  “It is,” Reyes agrees, absently tracing his fingertips over the rock. “During those years I was alone in my camp, it felt like the world was limited to that place. Like it was no bigger than the walls that surrounded it, and life beyond just didn’t exist. Once I left, I felt like one of those helpless dandelion seeds in the wind.”