High Flyer - Michelle Diener Page 0,73

up, but there was nothing in the sky above.

That was really strange.

“We usually catch drenma, and there's plenty of them where our base is, but it's been slim pickings here. No water birds either, which is what we usually use as a stopgap between getting a medium sized drenma.” She leaned against the table, watching him cut up the fruit, bread and cheese into smaller, bite-sized pieces.

It was the shield around the camp, Iver realized. The animals and birds must be able to sense it, somehow, and it kept them away. If Jake did manage to find the engine and escape with it, that was at least one indicator the VSC could use to find any shielded bases he might set up.

A shout from the ruins had everyone turning in that direction, and Barre stepped out of the arched stone and waved.

Craven appeared from a building and walked over to him.

Iver watched them confer, heads together, and then Craven ran to the wall, hopped over it, and disappeared. Off to tell Jake the news.

“That's bullshit. They haven't found it.” Baxter lifted a cup to his lips with shaking hands, and then turned away from the ruins altogether.

“How do you know?” Tillis challenged.

“Because I've been looking for six months, and I haven't found it yet. You telling me you lot are just going to walk in and discover it in a few hours?”

“Maybe we have something you don't have.” Brynja jutted out a hip.

“Yeah? What?”

She smirked, then turned her attention back to the ruin.

Iver sat up a little straighter as he smoothed his hand over Hana's tangle of wild hair.

He was suddenly sure they did have a way to find it. Brynja looked too smug.

This wasn't just a fishing expedition. Jake hadn't come in on the hope Bret and his people had found something. He had come to take it, whether they'd found it or not.

Hana twisted her head to look at him, and he pushed her plate toward her.

“What do you have that they don't?” he asked Lia, as Hana propped up her head on her hand and took a small piece of fruit delicately between two fingers.

He gave a grunt of approval when she swallowed it and reached for another.

When he looked back at Lia, she was shaking her head. She turned away from him, so as not to meet his gaze.

Hana straightened a little, her gaze on his face.

“All right?” he mouth at her.

She nodded, closed her eyes for a moment, and then pushed slowly to her feet. “Can I have a shower?”

Lia spun back. “What?”

“I think a shower will help me, and some clean water on my foot wouldn't be a bad thing. Can I have one?”

“He can't go with her,” Brynja said, pointing at Iver.

“Who will help her, then?” Iver asked.

“I will.” Lia nodded toward one of the huts, and Hana slid out from the bench, her balance a little off. She glanced over at him, gave him a nod of reassurance, and then hobbled away.

Iver watched her until she disappeared into the hut.

“You left her before. When she got trapped. But seeing you now, the way you look at her, I don't understand why you did.” Brynja was staring at him, arms folded across her chest. “Didn't you realize what had happened to her?”

“Does it matter?” Iver answered.

“I suppose not.” Brynja stared at him a few moments more. “She's too injured to run, and I don't think you'll leave her again.”

As she turned away, Iver's gaze went back to the hut.

It should have dismayed him that Brynja had read him so well, but lucky for him, Hana was not too injured to run. Brynja was right about one thing, though. He wouldn't be leaving her behind again.

Jake had come back from wherever he'd been when Hana emerged from the hut. He and Craven were standing in front of the ruin, talking quietly.

Hana limped her way back to the table where Iver sat waiting, feeling fresh and clean for the first time in days.

She still felt the throb of the shield engine, but somehow, fresh clothes and a shower made all the difference.

She could think clearly again.

“You don't look much better.” Bret commented, a sneer on his face.

His gaze kept going to Craven and Jake, and she saw his hands were trembling as he straightened them, then fisted them, over and over.

Craven's people didn't look much happier, even though theoretically they should have been overjoyed. They had taken the camp and they seemed to have found