want me, too—I mean more than using me for one night–” he laughs at my protests and goes on, “I want to know it’s without any strings attached. I need to know you’re mine alone and nothing can keep us apart. And you can’t honestly tell me that right now. Not without going home first.”
He’s right, I can’t. I reach for his hand, a large lump in my throat. “What did I do to deserve you?”
He kisses me lightly. “Bad luck, I guess.”
We walk back to the shelter with our hands locked together, the sun patting our backs. He helps me pack my bag with my few belongings for the trip home. Home. I’ll be with Aloe and Eland again by the end of the day. They must have given up on me by now, unless Shrike told Aloe about the possibility of Koolkuna. I hope he did.
“I have something for you,” Peree says. He places a heavy object wrapped in cloth in my hand. A knife.
“Um . . . thanks. Is there some reason you think I’ll need this?” I ask.
“You never know.”
“Don’t you need it?”
“I can borrow one from Konol.”
I take it reluctantly. The overwhelming longing to stay—in Koolkuna, in safety, in Peree’s warm arms—threatens to overcome me again. I swallow hard and run my thumb along the blunt edge of the knife.
“Here, I have something else for you.” He walks behind me and puts something around my neck. I feel the weight of the little carved bird against my chest before my fingers confirm that’s what it is. The cord feels strange against my neck. I’ve never worn a necklace before, except the daisy chains Calli and I used to make when we were little.
“Show the bird to Shrike,” he says. “Tell him I trust you.”
“Come home soon and tell him yourself.”
“I will.”
I put my arms around him. “Promise?”
He kisses me one last time. A solid, upfront kind of kiss. “I promise.”
The sun is too hot as Kadee and I press through the thick forest. Insects hum, but I don’t hear a single bird. They must be holed up out of the heat, like any reasonable creatures would be. Sweat spreads under my pack, making my dress itchy and uncomfortable. I’m grateful for the shade of the trees. The heat would be unbearable without it.
We’re following the curve of the mountain ridge that contains the cave system. Kadee says if we keep it on our right, we’ll eventually get to our part of the forest. We’ve already been tramping for hours through the gnarled underbrush. I was holding her arm at first, but now the trees are too dense to walk side by side, so I walk behind her. She tries to warn me of obstacles on the ground like stumps and fallen branches, but there are too many. I’ve tripped several times and bounced off more than one tree. Vegetation yanks my hair and tries to snag my pack. I moved Peree’s knife from my pack to my pocket, to cut away the vines and brambles.
Kadee’s been quiet since we said our good-byes to the small party who saw us off from Koolkuna. Nerang gave me a small pouch of medicinal herbs for treating bruises and scrapes. “You’ll need these, I think,” he said cheerfully as he handed them over. Peree’s right—the man can be exasperatingly smug sometimes.
Peree promised to follow quickly, and Konol joked that he’d carry him back to get rid of him if he had to. A scuffle ensued, a sure sign of male friendship. Kora sniffled as she and Bega hugged me good-bye. I said I’d be with them again soon. I hope I told the truth.
Peree’s knife in my pocket and the bird nestled against my chest are the only physical reminders I carry of him. But I have memories, and the best of them were from last night: dancing and laughing with our friends, then kissing him in the long grass of the moonless clearing. I try not to think about how it could be like that every day—in Koolkuna.
I push a branch out of my way. It slips out of my hand and grazes the side of my face. Kadee checks on me, and I assure her I’m fine for the forty-second time today. An insect buzzes closer to investigate my stinging cheek; I must be bleeding.
Soon after we started out, I asked Kadee how she was feeling about going home.
“Nervous, excited, worried. Mostly nervous, I think,” she said.
“What