The knowledge spreads through me like ice, chilling my overheated muscles.
As a little girl my nightmares were about this very place. I dreamed that monsters and wolves and ghouls lived here. Bloodthirsty creatures that tore into flesh for no reason. Now I am older and I know better.
Monsters and ghouls don’t commit atrocities out here. People do.
“Does it feel like coming home?” I hear myself say. I don’t know what I want from Hayden’s response. Maybe some assurance that he’s as comfortable here as anywhere.
Hayden lifts an eyebrow. “If home is where a person finds sanctuary and peace, then this place has never been that to me.”
His tone is surprisingly somber. What was it like for him to look after two younger brothers out here? Did he worry about Hyde and Straggler constantly, like I worry about Clara?
He smiles at me suddenly. It’s a cover-up grin, like Clara’s sunbeam smile. Like he believes he said something he shouldn’t have.
“Drink,” he says, handing me a water skin.
“Thanks.” I take it. I finished mine an hour ago. The leather skin is warm and damp from his grip.
“Don’t worry about being out here. It’s not as bad as you think.”
I take a long drink and hand the skin back to him. “I can stomach anything except lies.”
“Fair enough. It is as bad. But we’ll be safe on this hill until the wind carries the smoke away.”
I consider our position and see that he’s right. Our hill is small, but we have a few oak trees here that will give us some cover, and an unobstructed view on every side. No one will sneak up on us without earning an arrow between the eyes.
My gaze strays west. Clara is out there, inside the cave on the edge of the coast. I wish I could see her. All I see are plumes of smoke interspersed with glowing spots, where the flames leap highest. The Aether rolls in waves across the sky, looking so alive, so vibrant, compared to the earth with its scorching skin.
I don’t know whether it’s the sight of this war between earth and sky or the cooling of my sodden clothes that chills me, but I begin to shiver.
“You want me to get a fire going?”
That makes me laugh. “Would you? That’d be great.” I can’t think of anything I’d like less than a fire. The smoke has gotten in my hair. It’s all I can taste. All I can feel, in the tightness of my lungs. I feel like I’ve bathed in smoke.
Hayden gazes across the distance. “The wind is dying down. The fires will burn out soon. We’ll be able to get back by morning at the latest.”
That sounds overly optimistic, but I don’t say anything.
Hayden finds a smooth rock to perch on. “Come on. There’s room for you.”
“I’m fine,” I say reflexively.
After pacing around for five minutes, I realize he’s chosen the only spot on this craggy hill that’s halfway comfortable, but I’ve already made up my mind.
I plop down on the dirt a few paces away from him. A sharp rock pokes into my backside. I am cold, tired, and wet—and I smell like a chimney—but that rock is what pushes a string of curses out of me.
“Everything all right?” Hayden asks.
I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.
“Wonderful. How’s your throne?”
“Couldn’t be better.” A pause. “You’d be more comfortable over here, Brooke. And warmer.”
“Warmer? You want me to warm up with you? Do you really think I’m that gullible?”
“I was trying to be practical, but suit yourself. I have to admit, though, I’m flattered you don’t trust yourself around me.”
I snort and pick up a pebble to throw at him. My arm stops mid-throw.
Because of the natural curve in the rock he’s chosen, Hayden is leaning back, half-reclined. It’s a casual, relaxed pose. Comfortable. And I suddenly don’t know why I’m here in the dirt, when I could be there.
I hop to my feet and stalk over to him. “I will punch you if you touch me,” I say, sitting beside him.