After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, she leans back against my chest. Her voice is much softer when she speaks again.
“I’m sorry. I’m having trouble with the wild sap.”
“I feel it, too,” I say with my anger subsiding. “I’m sorry I talked to you that way. I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s really hard to control sometimes.”
I tenderly grip her shoulders in my hands. “Don’t feel bad. We just have to stay aware of what it’s doing to us. If we pay attention, we can keep it in check.”
“Thanks, Chase,” she says softly. “Do you think you can help me clean up a little while I’m sitting up?”
“Sure thing.”
After making sure she can stay upright on her own, I rinse out an empty canister in the fall and fill it with water. She sits perfectly still while I wash her legs, arms, and face. I pour another canister of water over her head and comb my fingers through her hair. It takes two more refills before the knots, sap, and dried blood are all washed away. Just like in the Delta, her hair dries in a few seconds.
I help her lie down on her back again. As I adjust the pillow under her head, she asks me to spread sap on her injured shoulder and ribs. I rub it on her shoulder first and then reach my hand under her shirt. While lightly gliding my fingertips over her ribcage, the side of my hand accidentally grazes the underside of her breast. The sensation triggers a momentary flutter in my stomach.
“It feels good when you rub sap on me,” she says.
I stop my hand on the firm muscles of her stomach. “I’m glad it helps.”
“Will you hold me while I fall asleep?” she asks quietly. “It helps me feel safe.”
I pull my hand out from under her shirt and set the canister aside. Facing her, I stretch out on the ground with my head resting on one of my arms. After I drape the other arm over her body, she slips her hand inside mine.
“What happened to your shirt?” she asks.
“It’s your pillow,” I answer. “It’s all I had to support your neck.”
“I’m sorry I’m putting you through so much,” she whispers.
“Don’t beat yourself up. This could have happened to anyone.”
“But all I do is drink sap and sleep,” she replies.
“That’s what you need to heal.”
She caresses my hand with her fingertips. “You’re taking such good care of me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I’ll never let anything bad happen to you,” I say. “After you’re asleep, I’ll go get more sap. I promise I won’t be gone long and I’ll come straight back if Darkness falls.”
“Thank you.”
Her breathing gradually lightens and her hand goes limp in mine. I stay beside her for another few minutes to make sure she’s in a deep sleep. After drinking an entire flask of sap, I leave the cavern.
Under idle clouds, I sail through the valleys and hills to the transport. The first thing I see when I stop is my spear lying in the dirt at the bottom of the wash. I snatch it from the ground, refill the canisters and flasks, and then climb the steep slope to the top of the hill. It’s the highest peak for hundreds of miles around me.
Turning in a circle, I look for any motion in the bleak wasteland. Far to the northeast—at least five hundred miles away in a direct line between me and the Delta—a shape of light gleams over a hill. A few moments later, another one shoots across the trail of the first. The Murkovin must still be searching the Barrens for us.
“Stupid fuckers,” I mumble. “You’re looking in the wrong place.”
While the two Murkovin crisscross in the distance, I sit down on a large rock. The people in the Delta must think that Tela and I are dead. I wonder if they’ll even care. It took them a long time to pretend as though they accept me, but I still get sideways glances and voices laced with distrust. They’ll just write us off as casualties of the eternal struggle for balance, bloody road-kill on the ambiguous path of the self-righteous.
Sash is probably using the same kind of philosophical bullshit they all drown themselves in to put me behind her. She already tried to betray me once, and now she can do whatever she wants to with our daughter. If I make it back to the Delta, one thing is for certain. Things are going to change.
But I’m not even sure I want to go back. Life in the Barrens seems simple and uncomplicated. I have no responsibilities other than to take care of myself and help Tela get better. My needs are what count in the Barrens, not some random purpose for the good of Krymzyn assigned to me by a goddamn Tree.
With the transport nearby, I have all the sap I want for the time being. I’m sure I can bind a tree the same way the Murkovin did and drain every drop. Maybe Tela will also want to stay in the Barrens. Unlike Sash, she appreciates everything I do for her and the sacrifices I make.
Once Tela has finished healing, we can tie up a few trees, kill any Murkovin in the area, and have an endless supply of sap. This part of the Barrens can be our own private kingdom, the two of us in complete control. I could even sneak into the Delta, grab Aven, and bring her back here to live with Tela and me. Aven adores Tela.
The little cavern filled with purple light can be our home. We could use thread from the tree I saw to make some fabric, and use the fabric to make a couple of beds stuffed with leaves. After Aven is asleep at the end of each morrow, Tela and I can take our clothes off, wash each other’s bodies in the fall, lay down in
