Maren Goldweaver's Arc

Chapter 34 of 42

Maren woke on the floor. The cot had been too narrow for both of them, and at some point in the night they had slid down without waking. Her head lay on Miller's chest. Her arm crossed his stomach. His hand rested at the small of her back. Gray light came under the tent flap. Somewhere in the camp a pot banged against a stone. She did not move for a moment. She listened to him breathe. Then she sat up. "The date is nine days out," she said. "The place I don't know. I read it once. I have to trust I read it right." Miller opened his eyes. "Say it back." She said the date. She said the place. Both came clean. "Again," he said. She said them again. Same words. Same order. "Then we go," he said. "Nothing on paper. Nothing on you. If they stop us and search, there's nothing to find." "Why our name," she said. "Why in the middle of Delia's file. It wasn't the top page. It wasn't marked. It was buried." "Someone put it where it wouldn't be looked for." "Then the place matters. The date matters. We go and we see." She pulled her braids over her shoulders and worked them tighter. The gold at her wrist caught the light. She stood. Gisela was outside the med tent with Kato. He sat up against a post, color back in his face. Gisela looked at Maren's face and knew. "Where," Gisela said. "East. Nine days out. I'll tell you the rest when we're clear of the camp." Kato nodded once. "I can walk by tomorrow." "Then walk by tomorrow." She found Vera at the fire. Delia stood at Vera's shoulder now, the file gone from her arms. Whatever price had been set, it had been paid between them. "We're leaving at midday," Maren said. "Thank you for the shelter." Vera looked at her a long moment. "You don't tell me where." "No." "Good." Vera's eyes moved to Topper, sitting by the wood pile. "He stays. He works my manifests. That was the trade." "He stays," Maren said. "The cub stays too. You knew that." "I knew that." Vera gave a short nod. Not friendship. Not enemy either. Topper heard his name and looked up. He opened his mouth to say something and Miller looked at him and he shut it. By midday Maren, Miller, Gisela, and Kato were at the tree line with what the camp had spared them. Bread. Water. A blade each. The date sat in Maren's head like a stone she could not drop. The place sat beside it. She had not written a word. She stepped into the trees and the others followed.