“What of you? Will you wake me—”
“Don’t concern yourself,” he instructed as he settled his back against the cave wall.
It hadn’t been precisely the answer I was seeking. It was an assurance, however, and even though I told myself I should be careful not to place my utter and complete trust in him, I dozed off.
I woke with a start, sensing hours had passed. I rubbed at my cheek, feeling disoriented. He had let me sleep. The rain had stopped. There was a freshness to the air, as though the rain had washed the world clean. Impossible, I knew, but I allowed myself to enjoy the scent for a moment.
Clutching the blanket to my chest, I strained my ears for evidence of Fowler. I heard nothing. There was no sign of him. Perhaps he had not left me to sleep. Perhaps he had just left me.
For a moment, the possibility went down my throat in a bitter swallow. I sat up, lifting my head off my pack, which I had used as a pillow, pebbles and bits of rock sticking to my palms as I pushed myself up. Cool air wafted over my bare skin and I recalled that my clothes were spread all around me, drying.
I brushed my hands off on my blanket. A bigger rock slid and rolled somewhere to my left. A booted foot scratched against the cave floor and I turned in that direction.
“Afraid I left you?”
I breathed a little easier, relieved at his return. “I suppose I should wonder at that. You haven’t made any effort to hide just how much you resent my company.”
“I gave my word.”
“That’s right. Your word.” As though that should mean something to me. It had been enough for Sivo, but then in Sivo’s mind there had not been much of an alternative.
“Let’s move. You can eat as we walk.”
“Could you turn around so that I can dress myself, please?”
He gave a snort, but obliged. I dressed quickly. My clothes were mostly dry and I knew I must have slept a long while.
I put away my bedding and then fished from my pack the last of Perla’s flaky biscuits. Setting off after him, I chewed slowly, wanting this last tangible item from Perla to last. I would never have another one. I swiftly pushed away the stab of pain that thought triggered.
I wasn’t certain if Fowler had slept at all. His voice sounded rusty with weariness. “Did you stand watch all night?” I asked.
He ignored the question.
“Fowler?” I pressed.
“Don’t worry about me.”
“Oh. You needn’t sleep like the rest of us? Is that it?”
“I can look after myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”
“I see. I’m not to express concern for your well-being, but if you should collapse, I shouldn’t worry?” We were in this together and I wanted him to admit it. Perhaps then I wouldn’t feel so alone beside him.
He grunted, the only acknowledgment that I might have made a valid point.
“Then I do have a stake in your well-being, after all.”
“Very well. I’ll abide your opinions.”
At that, I laughed softly. “Good to know considering we will be travel companions for the next several months.”
“This goes both ways, you know. You must endure my opinions, too.”
“Indeed. Have you any opinions?” I struggled to lift my legs high out of the bog-like ground. “You of so few words?”
“I do.”
“Feel free to share.”
He stopped and faced me, his voice biting. “You fail to realize the dangerous nature of our journey.”
“I’m perfectly aware of the dangers.”
“And yet you insist on trying to make conversation and interacting with me as though you wish to be my friend.”
He uttered “friend” as though it were a dirty word.
I exhaled a breath, heat crawling up my neck because he sensed that need in me and he viewed it as a weakness. “What’s wrong with being friends? We will be together for a long time—”
“We are not friends. I had friends once. Family. They are all dead.”
I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “And you haven’t the desire for any more?”
“I haven’t anything in me at all. No room for anyone. Including you.”
His words struck like one of his well-aimed arrows. I forced my hands to remain at my sides even though I wanted to rub at my chest where I felt the sting the greatest, directly over my heart.
“I understand.” Nodding, I strode ahead of him.
He stayed behind me for a short time before eventually reclaiming the lead.
The chirp of bats drifted overhead, moving as one in a great cloud. I froze and listened. I knew we were too large a target for them. They were hunting smaller prey—rabbits and rodents. I still didn’t relish a run-in with the creatures. I shivered at the sound of them, their leathery wings flapping on the wind, their heavy weight as they landed on the brittle, creaking limbs of nearby trees.
Fowler stopped beside me. “Don’t worry. They don’t attack humans. If we leave them alone, they’ll ignore us.”