Not far from where Seeri and I stand I see Morsk, Lees, and Noni. Their backs are to us, and they are watching Black Dog. I stop and watch him, too. He is running along the edge of the cliff.
And I know that below that cliff is a beach. A beach that holds our tent, our food, and just a bit farther away, on the beach facing east . . .
Boats.
TWENTY-TWO
Kol lies on the ground, but he does not lie still. He tosses restlessly, like a dreamer caught in a nightmare. Every part of his body is in motion except for his left leg.
From just beyond the edge of this clump of trees, Black Dog howls. I crouch down and slide toward the sound, Lees’s spear balanced on my shoulder. Black Dog howls once more and I am up, running toward the sound.
I see her even before I reach the edge of this meager stand of stunted trees. She lies on her back beside a clump of plants with deeply serrated leaves. Feverweed. Handfuls of stalks yanked straight from the dirt litter the trampled grass. Noni lies still, a dart sticking out of her neck. Black Dog runs in circles around her until he hears my foot on the ground.
I drop down, crawling on hands and knees to the edge of the trees. Noni looks at me, moving just her eyes. She is alert—alert enough to know she is in danger. My gaze sweeps the open space around her, but I see no one. Where did her attackers come from, I wonder, and where did they go? Are they hiding, waiting for me to come out into the open? It doesn’t matter; I have to go to her. With the spear balanced on one shoulder, I slink across the ground to her side.
Blood runs from both wounds in her throat—where the dart went in and where the tip came out. She is bleeding hard. “I had some,” she says, and her chest rises and falls like the sea in a storm. “I dropped it—”
“Shush,” I say. I gather the plants that are scattered on the ground. “I’ve got it.” I scoop her into my arms—she is so light—but I’m exhausted. My steps are slow, and with each one I turn and look over both shoulders.
“I didn’t see anyone,” Noni says. Her voice gurgles, like she’s underwater. As I carry her, Black Dog runs in front, but then stops and lifts his head. He sniffs the air. I hesitate, wondering if he smells the scent of the person who attacked Noni. I don’t move until the dog runs again, returning to Kol’s side.
I lay Noni beside him on the mossy soil. When I brush my fingers across Kol’s forehead, they burn. His fever must be rising. His body has gone still. I think maybe he’s fallen back to sleep, or whatever approximation of sleep his high fever will allow.
I check Noni’s wounds. “I’m going to leave the dart in place,” I say. “It will bleed less.”
“Pack the feverweed all around it.” Even with blood running from an open wound, she still wants to tell me how to use the plant. I’m happy for it—she is still awake, and I so desperately want her to stay that way. “I promise you it will stop the bleeding.” I follow her instructions, hoping these leaves will do even a fraction of what she claims they will. “But give some to Kol. That’s why I went out there. To get it for him.”
Noni tells me to wad up a few leaves and press them between Kol’s teeth. I whisper to him, telling him to bite down on it, and though his eyes stay pressed shut, he does as I say. I ration the remaining supply of leaves, setting some aside to dress Noni’s wound again later.
I listen for any sound that might suggest someone is nearby, planning to attack. I hear nothing but waves below the cliff and the wind rustling the leaves. “The person who did this—you saw nothing at all? You didn’t hear a voice?”
“Nothing.” She sighs, but pain tears at the edges of the sound. Her breath rattles, and when it stops, something else rattles, too. A crunch, like a foot on the ground. Noni’s eyes move to my face. Her head nods. She’s heard it, too. I pick up the spear, stretch to my full height, and turn in place, searching for any movement beyond the trees.
I pause, holding still and silent, and listen again. My attention catches on another rustling sound, like footsteps coming through the trees. Noni looks up too, and this time, so does Black Dog.
My imagination might play tricks on me—Noni’s might play tricks on her—but I trust the dog’s senses. Lees’s spear rolls in my hand, my grip ready, as I turn in the direction of the sound.
I see nothing . . . nothing . . . until all at once a dark shape is hurtling toward me. . . . A person running, a spear raised over her shoulder. In the pale light of the dying day, I see her face. Anki. She slows, and I see her eyes. Her gaze locks on my face as she cocks her arm back at the elbow and throws.
But her aim is compromised. The clutter of trees and the tricks of the shadows confuse her throw, and her spear bounces off the bent branch of a poplar that twists up through the shade. I don’t know what other weapons she might have, but I know I need to retrieve that spear before she does. I take off toward the place where it lies, not far beyond the circle of ground where Black Dog keeps watch over Noni and Kol.
I tear over the ground, Anki running hard from the other direction. I am so close, much closer than she is. I reach the spear, trading Lees’s to my other hand in favor of this larger, fiercer weapon. My feet plant, my arm rises over my shoulder, and I measure my aim.
A violent shudder tears through me, as if my will has torn in two. I ready myself to take a life—something that feels so wrong—while I revel in the privilege of ending the person who ended Chev. The two sides of my heart struggle, wrestling inside me, right up until Anki stops. She pulls a long flint blade from her belt. Black Dog appears at my heels, growling through bared teeth, and Anki aims the knife at the dog. The memory of Chev’s knife clutched in that same hand rushes back, and my resolve hardens.
The spear flies from my hand and finds its home, deep in Anki’s thigh. I know at the moment the spear pierces the hide of her pants that I’ve hit the mark I sought. Blood runs, pulsing, over her knee and down her calf. Thick, heavy blood, so dark it’s almost black. It won’t take long until she has nothing left to bleed.
Still she struggles forward, her face a knot of concentration and rage. “You may think that you will win. That I will die and you will have beaten me.” She takes a few stumbling steps, and my eyes move to Noni, vulnerable on the ground.
Black Dog watches, sniffing the air, as if he recognizes the scent of Anki’s blood.