Chapter Thirteen
CALEB AND I RODE THROUGH THE WOODS, WINDING IN AND out of trees. After the sighting of the troops the previous night, the oldest boys had been on watch all day, making sure the soldiers had left the area. No one spoke to me, no one dared look at me. It wasn’t until they’d discovered fresh tire tracks on the road leading away from the lake that the lockdown had ended. Caleb had appeared in our doorway while I was tending to Arden and invited me to hunt with him. I didn’t mind that I had to wear boy’s clothing—ripped cotton shorts and a loose shirt—or tie my hair back in disguise. I was just thankful to be out in the fresh air, away from that dank cave. Away from the underground lair and that animal, Leif.
When we reached a grassy clearing Caleb scanned the tree line, gazing down at the rocky shore. “Nothing there.” He turned the horse around. “We’ll have to find a lookout point.”
The sky was a deep orange with billowing clouds, their bellies traced with red. We’d tracked a wild boar across a field and into a quarry, until it was startled by a falling rock. Now we were on the lookout for deer. I slid back on the horse, trying to enjoy the freedom of being aboveground. But last night’s encounter still consumed my thoughts.
“Your friend Leif . . .” I began, trying to piece together Caleb’s relationship with him—how he could live and work, day in and day out, with such a brute. I’d met Caleb two days ago and he’d yet to do anything I could deem suspicious. He hadn’t left me at the river. He’d brought Arden and me breakfast and lunch, towels and fresh rainwater to bathe in. He’d even swept the room for us when we were sleeping. “He’s quite the charmer,” I finished, unable to hide the edge in my voice.
Caleb kept his eyes on the rocky cliff ahead of us, his sheath of arrows swinging on his shoulder. “I’m sorry he scared you last night. He was furious about the soldiers.” One hand moved over the horse’s neck, combing out the knots in her thick black mane. “He’s convinced you made up that story about the little girl. There’s no reasoning with him.”
“Why would I lie about that? I saw her,” I said to Caleb’s back. “I was alone out there, and he practically threatened me.”
Caleb shook his head as we climbed the side of the hill, the horse’s uneven steps pitching us from one side to another. He didn’t think I’d seen a little girl either, but he believed I’d seen someone. “Leif wasn’t always like that. He used to be”—Caleb paused, searching for the right word—“better.”
We ducked under a low branch. “That’s hard to imagine.” The leaves brushed over my spine as I ducked forward, careful to keep a space between us.
Caleb grew quiet. “Leif was funny, once,” he finally said. “Really funny. We’d spend all day deconstructing buildings, brick by brick, and loading the materials onto trucks to be hauled to the City of Sand. Leif used to make up these songs while we worked.” Caleb looked over his shoulder, his cheeks ruddy with a sudden smile.
“What songs? What are you laughing about?”
He turned back around. “You don’t want to know.”
“Try me.”
“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He cleared his throat in mock seriousness. “My,” he crooned, his voice completely out of tune, “balls are sweating, my balls are sweating, I can’t keep my balls from sweating, noooo, noooo, noooo!”
I leaned in, noticing the folds at the corner of his eyes and the faint brown spots that covered the top of his cheekbones. “Why is that funny? What are ‘balls’? Like the ball of your foot?”
Caleb pulled at the reins of the horse and fell forward, his back heaving up and down with laughter.
“What? What is it?” I asked.
It took a moment for him to compose himself. “It’s . . .” he said, his face crumpled. “Like these things that . . .” he paused, as if deep in thought, and then shook his head suddenly. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s just funny, Eve. Trust me.”
I wanted to press him until he answered the question, but something told me the joke would be better left unexplained.
The horse plodded up the rest of the hill and onto a landing. The lake stretched out before us, reflecting the tangerine sky. From up high we could see the field where we’d found the boar, patches of woods, and a rocky strip of beach.
“There they are,” Caleb said, pointing to the herd of deer drinking at the water’s edge. Even from the cliff I could make out their golden coats and the horns that reached toward the treetops.