She shrugs. “I’ve had some time to think things through. Madda’s skiff is in the estuary. Henry’s claimed it but, well, I have the key.” She digs it from her pocket and dangles it in front of me. “Not much good to him if he can’t start it, is it?”
“You know how to pilot a skiff?” I ask.
“I helped Madda run hers during herring season,” she says. “I think I can make do.”
“We might have to go out into the strait.”
“As long as we’ve got the fuel…”
“Oh.” I hadn’t considered that. It’s one thing to steal a skiff that’s rightly ours, but fuel’s something else. “Any way around that?”
“We could siphon some from the other boats,” she suggests.
“No way. We’ll have to figure something else out.”
We pack quickly. I have no idea how long we’ll be gone. All I know is that we’re going. The rest will fall into place. I stuff the pack with sweaters, blankets, jackets, Madda’s medicine kit (I’m sure I’ll need that), and whatever food we can find in the kitchen-mostly the dreaded smoked oolichan, but it’ll have to do.
“Does Ms. Adelaide know?” I ask Helen as I lock the door.
She’s about to answer when something out in the lane catches her attention. I swing around. Cedar. He’s standing at the gate, giving us a quizzical look. “Going somewhere?”
“We’re headed to the estuary.” Which is the truth. I don’t have to tell him what comes after that.
“Hmm,” he says. “That’s a pretty long way. I could take you down there in my boat.”
I cock an eyebrow at Helen, as if to say that would save a lot of time, but I’ll leave the decision up to her.
She bites her lip and considers. I do too. Is this a good idea? Cedar has never been a friend to either my brother or Bran. What if he wants to come along? How do I explain that away? Still, a whole day of travel shaved off…
Helen takes a deep breath and nods.
“You don’t have anything else to do?” I ask Cedar.
“Nope.” He nudges a stone with his foot. “Was just coming by to see how you were feeling, that’s all. So?”
“Sure,” I say as guilt gnaws at my gut. “That’ll be great.”
He takes the pack from me. “I meant your shoulder,” he says. “It’s better?”
“Getting there.”
An awkward silence settles over us as we set off. Helen glances at me from time to time, as if trying to gauge my feelings about Cedar. Hell, half the time I don’t know how I feel about him, and that makes me wonder if I’m using him right now. Still, he offered. He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t want to help, though it occurs to me that he never asked what we’re up to. Maybe, if he knew, he’d change his mind.
Cedar’s house is not far from town. It’s a neat blue salt-box with daisies growing up against it-definitely not what I’d imagined for him. A woman peers out the window at us, but Cedar doesn’t stop. He just picks up the pace and leads us down to the water’s edge, where his rowboat lies upside down on the shore. He flips it over, tosses the packs in, and pushes the boat out knee-deep. “Get in,” he says.
Helen takes the bow, leaving me to sit in the middle, closest to Cedar. He plunges the oars into the water and we’re away, shooting across the lake. “It’ll be a bit tricky once we get to the dam,” he says. “We’ll have to pull the boat out and portage to the river, but it’ll still save us some time.”
“What are you going to do once we get to the estuary?” I ask.
“Depends,” he says with a shrug. “You’ll have to get home somehow.”
“We might be gone for a couple of days,” Helen says.
Cedar nods, but, curiously, doesn’t ask where or why. He just keeps on rowing.
Once we’re across the lake and on shore, Cedar flips the rowboat over and heaves it onto his shoulders in one swift move. His head disappears into the ribs and when he talks, his voice sounds like it’s echoing through a tunnel. “To the west,” he says, picking his way up the beach. “There’s not much of a trail, so you’d better let me lead.”
Helen and I fall in behind the rowboat with legs. No-see-ums buzz around our heads as we hike through the dark, swampy forest. Corpse plants spring out of the loamy ground, their ghostly flowers a warning that we’re in strange territory now, and wandering too far from the path might lead us into a sinkhole full of mud.
After an hour of pushing through marsh, I hear the rush of the river. We’re soon back in the rowboat, speeding downstream. The boat glides past ancient granite outcrops that watch us pass until we reach a fork in the river. Cedar rows us up the smaller branch that leads to the wharf. Skiffs and war canoes bob on the ebbing tide. No one’s around. We paddle up to a dock and get out.
“Well,” Cedar says as he lifts his boat out of the water, “we’re here. Now what?”
“Now,” I say, “we steal a boat.”
Cedar laughs as Helen walks down the wharf and hops onto one of the skiffs. “This one’s Madda’s,” she says, grinning. “The tanks are full!”
“You’re serious,” Cedar says.
“Dead serious.” I meet his gaze. “But it’s not really stealing. Madda left the boat to us. Henry Crawford appropriated it, so really, he’s the thief.”
Cedar runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Helen, are you actually going along with this?”
Helen shrugs.
“Look,” I say. “You’ve got a couple of choices here. You can hightail it back and tell Henry, and by the time everyone gets here, we’ll be long gone. Or you can keep it to yourself and when we get back, well, we’ll do the explaining.”
“Or I could come with you.” He scratches his ear. “My mom saw us, remember? My dad’s in Henry’s pocket, and if he finds out that I was part of this… well, I’ll get a beating either way.” He smirks. “Might as well do something to deserve it.”
I find it incredible that anyone would beat Cedar- he’s the stockiest boy in the town-but I don’t say so. After all, Paul knocked out his tooth. He’s not invincible. “Don’t you want to know what it is we’re doing before you sign on?”
“I guess.”
Helen, standing where Cedar can’t see her, pretends to swoon. “We’re going to find Bran and Paul,” I say in my most matter-of-fact tone, even though I feel awful. Cedar would probably do anything I asked, beating or not.
Cedar’s gaze falls to his shoes. “I see.”
“We’d better get going,” Helen says. “We need to be out of the estuary before the tide changes.”
“Okay.” I step around Cedar, who’s still staring at his feet. “Coming?”
“Hell,” he mutters. “Why not? I’ve got nothing else to do.” He sighs. “Get onboard, Cass. I’ll cast off.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
She gives me a sidelong look. “Okay. We’ll have to go east a little ways first, because of the currents. Got to conserve fuel if we want to make it back. I don’t know what Henry will be more mad about-the boat or the gas.” She gives me a wicked smile. “Do you know how much the gas in this boat is worth?”
“Not more than Paul and Bran,” I tell her.
Her smile fades.
Gulls swoop down to keep pace with us as Helen turns the wheel. With the Island a shadow of blue far to our left, I begin to wonder if this is the stupidest idea I’ve ever come up with. I have no clue how many miles will we
