the deck of her houseboat. She was hanging T-shirts over the side, fixing them on a few old nails. Her curly black hair had grown down her back, and she looked plumper, less muscular, than she had before.
“Party tonight at Sappho’s?” I yelled to her, hoping she heard the smile in my voice. I gestured to the girls behind me, the six horses continuing down the path.
Quinn looked up, her head tilted to one side, smirking. She went down the back of the boat and appeared on the dock, her steps hurried as she came toward us. I dismounted, letting her squeeze me to her in one of her breathless, all-consuming hugs. Her hair smelled of saltwater, a few coarse curls tickling my neck.
She pulled back, her eyes scanning the girls behind me. “Where’s Arden?” she asked. “We thought she was with you.”
“I haven’t seen her in more than three months.” I lowered my voice as I spoke. “She’s gone back on the Trail. She went to the siege with some of the boys from the dugout.”
Quinn’s brows knitted together. “She hasn’t been here.”
“And you didn’t hear anything about her? No messages? I thought she might still be inside the City.”
“I’ll fill you in later on what’s happening in the City,” she whispered, looking over my shoulder at some of the younger girls. “We’ve heard some things that worried us.”
Before I could say anything else I heard the soft padding of feet on pavement, and Lilac rounded the corner, her hair tied back in braids. She was holding a doll by its arm, its painted features worn off. “Mom, it’s Eve,” she yelled over her shoulder. “She has horses!”
The mare started backward but I grabbed the reins, waiting until she calmed. The girls had already dismounted behind me, some hitching the horses to trees, others unloading the sacks and giving the animals the last of the food and water. Beatrice had Benny and Silas beside her, one hand resting on each of them as Maeve came toward us.
“You’re back,” she called out. There was no feeling in her voice—no surprise, no hint of anger or confusion. She hugged her worn jean jacket to her body, steeling herself against the wind that whipped off the bay. “And I see you’re not alone.” Her eyes settled on Benny and Silas.
All the nervousness I had felt about seeing her again was gone. So much had changed in the past months. We were both traitors now, according to my father. She had harbored escapees from the Schools. We could both be hanged. I tried to remind myself of that as she kept staring at the two boys. “They have nowhere else to go,” I said. “I won’t leave them.”
“You know we have rules.”
“For men—there were never supposed to be men here,” I insisted. “They’re barely eight years old. What’s going to happen to them in the wild?”
Beatrice held them tighter. “I can be responsible for them. And when they’re of age we can revisit the conversation.”
“I don’t know you,” Maeve said, scanning Beatrice’s face. “Why would that mean anything to me?”
Behind her, a few women came out of their houses, some peering through the front windows of abandoned stores. “You shouldn’t have left without telling us,” Maeve went on, now directing the comment at me. “We weren’t certain at first if you’d been taken or if you’d gone on your own. Some of the women were worried.”
“I wasn’t in a position to tell you I was leaving,” I said.
Maeve narrowed her eyes, sensing there was more to the statement. Her eyes went from Benny back to Silas, until finally she spoke. “They can stay for now, but you’re responsible for them.” Then she gestured over her shoulder, to the path that led to her house. “We’ll set you up in the house beside mine. I’ll be able to take care of you there.”
Take care of you. I nearly laughed at the words. Bette and Kit picked up a few of the bags and started forward, but I directed them to stop. “We’ll stay with Quinn for now, until we can get something more permanent set up. Thank you, though, for your generosity.” I smiled—a tight, unflinching smile—and turned back to the dock.
Quinn gave me a puzzled look. I ignored it, knowing I’d have to explain later. Instead I helped the rest of the girls down toward the boat, making sure they tied their horses far enough into the woods that they couldn’t be seen