“Nothing,” she says.
We left the Delta early in the morrow, long before the other children at Home were awake, and headed straight to the area on the map that Aven had shown to us. The problem is, when pointing at the map, the tip of my daughter’s finger equates to millions of square miles. Sash tried to approximate the center of that point, and that’s where we started the search. The entire morrow has been spent working our way through an outward spiral with stops only a few hundred miles apart. Most of the Delta has probably gone to sleep by now. We appear to have hit another dead end.
“Maybe Aven was wrong,” I say to Sash. “Maybe she just wanted to feel like she was helping.”
“I don’t think so,” she replies.
“Even if she can hear the trees, how would they know where Tela is?”
“I don’t know,” she answers. “Maybe the trees out here can sense Tela and communicate with the other trees across the wasteland. Maybe the trees in the Delta can hear the trees in the Barrens. Maybe the trees in the Delta somehow told Aven what they heard. I don’t know how Aven could know, but I believe our daughter.”
Looking down at the ground, I rearrange a few rocks with the tip of my boot. I was so excited the night before that I could barely sleep. But as the morrow has worn on, my initial excitement has withered away. I have the same sinking feeling that I had after getting my hopes up from Angelicusepte’s information, only to see it lead to nothing.
“Let’s go a little farther out before returning to the Delta,” Sash says.
“Sure,” I mumble.
Once Maya is on my back, we curve a few hundred miles to the northeast. We stop on top of a particularly steep, rocky hill with large boulders strewn across its slopes. Maya slides to the ground, finds a spot on the dirt, and rests on all fours. After a few minutes pass, she scratches the dirt with her fingernails and shakes her head.
“This hill is a good landmark to remember for the next time we come out,” I say to Sash. “We should head back to the Delta. I think we’re all exhausted.”
Slowly turning in a circle, Sash surveys the weary hills. When she comes to a stop, she focuses her eyes on Maya. Despite Sash’s confidence in what Aven told us, I know she must be feeling the same frustration that I am.
“Let’s go,” Sash says to Maya. “It’s late.”
I reach a hand down and gently grip Maya’s arm. As I pull her to her feet, she jerks her arm away and throws herself to the ground.
“Wait!” Maya shouts.
She squeezes her eyes shut and clenches her jaw. Not a single muscle in her body twitches while she concentrates on whatever she sensed.
“I feel someone familiar,” Maya says, aiming her face towards the east. “That way.”
“Do you think it’s Tela?” Sash asks.
“It has to be,” she answers. “It’s far away and very weak, but I never sense the Murkovin.”
“Let’s head east,” Sash says.
My heart suddenly races with new hope. I lift Maya from the ground and swing her onto my back. We don’t even bother to strap her into the harness. She fastens her hands around my chest and I loop an arm under her leg. With my spear in the grip of my other hand, I bound down the hill behind Sash.
When we reach the bottom of the slope, we sprint towards the east and jolt into our blends. Since we don’t plan on going very far, we keep our traveling speed as slow as we can while also trying to stay out of sight. Nervous anticipation makes it seem like hours go by, but no more than a couple of minutes pass before Sash exits the beams. I coast to a stop beside her in a gully at the base of a large hill.
As we climb the slope, we scrutinize the surrounding terrain for any sign of Murkovin. Before we reach the top, Sash motions for me to let Maya off my back. Once she’s on the ground, the three of us crawl towards the crest and stop a few feet before reaching the peak. Sandwiched in between Sash and me, Maya lies flat on her stomach with her hands pressed to the rocky dirt.
“I feel her,” Maya whispers. “She’s close.”
“What do you feel?” Sash asks quietly.
“I feel sadness and . . .” Maya pauses and closes her eyes. “And something else. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s strong.”
“Are you sure it’s Tela?” I ask.
Maya shudders as though she’s in pain and then blinks her eyes open.
“What’s the matter?” Sash asks.
“It is Tela,” Maya answers. “She feels awful. She’s ashamed and hopeless and wants to die.”
“We won’t let that happen,” Sash tells her. “Both of you stay here.”
Sash scoots up to the ridge and peeks over the top. Her eyes slowly roam across the terrain in front of her but soon stop on something. She squints at the distance for several moments and then eases her body back down the slope to Maya’s side.
“What did you see?” I ask.
“Glints of light. They were reflections from steel, probably spears. They were about three miles from here and a mile apart. I think two Murkovin are keeping watch from separate hilltops.”
“Maybe they’re holding Tela captive,” I say.
“It’s possible. Let’s get back down to the gully. Make sure to stay out of sight.”
Sliding backwards on our bellies, we descend the slope. About a third of the way down, we rise to our feet and make our way to the ravine. Sash takes a quick drink of sap from her flask.
“Take Maya back to the Delta,” she says, returning the flask to her belt. “Don’t stop, don’t look back, and go as fast as you can. We don’t know how many Murkovin might be in this area, so you need to get her
