He cast about as they walked, looking for a likely campsite. After they had walked another fifteen or twenty minutes, he found a tangle of fallen trees that formed a makeshift shelter on three sides. While it would not conceal them entirely, it would give them some protection. He didn’t really think there was anything in these funereal woods that would cause them problems—or even bother to show itself—but there was no point in taking chances.
Placing Phryne inside the weave of limbs and trunks, he found several loose branches not far away and dragged them over to close off the entry, as well. When he was almost done, he stepped inside the shelter with her and dragged the last branch into place, sealing them off.
“Now we should be safe,” he declared, giving her his most reassuring smile.
“We’d better be,” she replied, giving him a look. “Because now we’re trapped in here.”
She sat back against the heavy branches, watching for his reaction. Then, seeing his confusion, she laughed. “Don’t look so serious, Pan. It’s all right. I know you did it to keep us safe. Come here. Sit with me.”
He moved over and leaned back against the branches next to her. He could feel the heat of her shoulder and arm press up against him, and he felt her looking at him.
“Did you ever imagine that your life would change all at once like this?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “I didn’t think it would ever change. I thought it was all settled. I would be a Tracker, working with Prue, for as long as I lived. I guess I still see things that way, even though I know they aren’t.”
“Well, think about it. You didn’t want it to change. You didn’t ask for it to change; it just happened. No one asked you what you wanted. No one asked me, either. We’re here, sitting together in this mass of brambles and branches, because of other people’s actions rather than our own.”
He thought about it, glancing over at her now. “We could have refused to do what was asked of us. Me, more easily than you, I guess. But we could have said no to what we saw happening. We could have left it to someone else.”
“Not and be the people we are. But I just think it’s so odd. I had my life planned out, too. I wasn’t going to be anything other than what I was—not for a very long time— because my father was going to live out his life. It would be years before anyone came to me and said it was time for me to be Queen.” She laughed softly. “Even saying it sounds odd. I never thought of myself that way. I never wanted it. I wanted something …”
She paused a long time. “Just something different, I guess.”
“But your father must have spoken about it with you. He must have told you that you’d be ruler of the Elves after him.”
She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “We never talked about it.
We never talked about much of anything after my mother died. He just went away from me. In his head, anyway. He left, and I was mostly alone after that, and the idea of being Queen was never in my thoughts. Even after Isoeld became his wife, it was never there. Not like I’m sure it was in hers.” She paused. “I was stupid!”
“I don’t think so. I think you were just being yourself. I would have done the same thing. Anyone would have.”
She looked up at him, tears in her blue eyes. “Sometimes, you say just the right thing, Panterra Qu.”
They rifled through his backpack, pulling out what little was left of their food, which was pretty much a reprise of the meal they had eaten earlier. They still had some water, so they were able to make do for the moment. But Pan knew they would have to find more of both soon, and that might not be easy outside the familiar confines of the valley. The old world had been poisoned and depleted in so many ways that it was impossible to guess at what might be safe to eat and drink.
As they consumed their meal, he found himself studying her between bites, trying to do so without drawing her attention. He liked how she looked, how everything about her seemed just right. Her chestnut hair, blue eyes, the slant of her brows and narrow cheekbones, the upsweep of her Elven ears, the slender parts that were smooth and soft and still so strong—everything that had always been there and to which he had paid so little attention. Or which he had failed to look at in quite the same way, he amended.
After all, he had found her intriguing right from the first, when she had walked with him during their climb out of Arborlon to Aphalion Pass, asking him questions, teasing him slyly, showing so much interest. Then, he hadn’t given it a lot of thought. Now he couldn’t seem to give it enough.
When they had finished eating and had cleaned up their little den, they leaned back once more against the tree limbs and stared out at the darkness. It was so deep and black they could see almost nothing beyond the branches that enclosed them.
“I would like to see more of our new world,” she told him after they had been silent for a time. “I know it’s dangerous and unfamiliar, but I want to know about it.”
“I think you might get your chance,” he replied.