“You’re sicker than I thought,” I say.
“Come with me,” he says. “I’ll take you to our people. I’ll negotiate our release and ensure that we are safely taken to wherever we decide to go after this. You can trust me, Juneau. You’re like a daughter to me. I only want the best for you and the clan.”
I tuck my head down into my arms and try to think. He’s not telling me the whole truth. That’s clear. But a lot of what he said made sense. Although he acted behind the backs of the elders, he believed he was doing it for the good of the clan.
I look back up at Whit, and he gives me that smile. His Juneau smile, the one he’s been giving me since I was five years old, the one that tells me how important I am to him. And I know that I can’t make this decision alone. I can’t trust myself to be level-headed when it comes to Whit.
“Miles,” I say. “Do you think I should go with Whit?”
Miles meets my eyes. “Absolutely,” he says, and looks from me to Whit, “. . . not.”
24
MILES
WHIT MAKES AN UNHAPPY HARRUMPHING NOISE, but I keep my eyes on Juneau.
“There’s no way you should go with this guy,” I insist. “He’s lying.”
“When did you start taking advice from teenage boys—” Whit begins, but I cut him off.
“I overheard my dad saying that you were the key to the drug, Juneau. That there would be no deal without you. I don’t understand why, but I don’t think Whit was just trying to make sure you weren’t left behind. I think he needs you.”
Juneau looks at Whit, and I spot sweat gathering along his hairline. “Juneau,” he says, “this can all be over tonight. I can conclude the deal with Avery and get your clan out of there by morning. Just come with me.”
Your clan? I think. I glance at Juneau to see if she heard it, too.
She sits, watching him, as he gets more and more nervous. “You got what you wanted, Whit. I’m here now. You know I’m safe. I’ll wait here while you do your deal with Avery. Once the clan is released, you can come back and get me. I promise not to budge.”
“I can’t just leave you here,” says Whit, looking fiercely uncomfortable now.
“Yes you can,” says Juneau. She stands up, and reaches down to pick up the crossbow. She holds it loosely by her side as she indicates with a gesture that Whit should stand. And I know that this is a rare moment. That there has been a sea change. Juneau is no longer his student. She just took her last step out from under his control, and is now wholly and completely on her own. She heard Whit out and decided not to side with him. This is huge.
“You just go on ahead,” Juneau urges when she sees he’s not leaving without her.
“I understand your decision,” Whit says finally, shoulders slumped in defeat. “But if you change your mind, just come on down to the ranch. I’ll make sure the guards know you are to be shown safely to me.”
“I thought they didn’t know I was here,” Juneau says.
“They don’t,” Whit responds quickly. “But I’ll tell them that if you happen to show up, you are to be brought to me unharmed.”
“Well, that’s sure generous of you,” Juneau says, and her face is devoid of expression, sarcastic or otherwise, as she raises the crossbow to eye level, aiming it straight at him. “Go,” she commands. Whit’s shocked expression says it all: He sees he’s lost her. He turns to leave the clearing. Juneau waits, holding her pose, until he disappears into the trees. She lowers the crossbow to her side and with a look of emptiness holds out her hand to me.
“Don’t you think he’ll come back with guards?” I ask. “If they’re not already surrounding us, waiting for a sign from him.” I take her hand and pull her closer.
She shakes her head. “No, if he wanted to take us by force, he would have sent guards to seize us instead of coming himself. I don’t know why, but he wants me to come willingly—to cooperate.”
“So you believe him about just wanting to protect you?” I ask incredulously.
“Honestly, Miles, I don’t know what to believe anymore. Part of what Whit said rang true. And then other parts he’s talked himself into believing are true, even if they aren’t.”
“And then there are the flat-out lies,” I add.
Juneau nods worriedly and slings the crossbow over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” I ask.
“We’re leaving the fire and setting up camp further on,” she says.
“I thought you said Whit wouldn’t send guards after us.”
“No, but someone could have followed him,” she says. “Or, if they suspect he met with me, they could easily track his footprints back here. It would be foolish for us to stay.”