HAVEN ✓

Sixteen

Especially when this particular Outlander finally turns his attention to me. I nearly shudder beneath the cold, emotionless gaze he bestows upon me, so different from the frustration and annoyance he showed during our first meeting.

"It's time."

These are the only two words he graces me with before turning toward the door.

Not one for goodbyes, I assume, judging by personal experience.

Embodying the complete opposite, I fling my arms around Sol. I squeeze her with all the strength I can muster, trying my hardest to put all of my affection and gratitude in the hug. You never know when life will separate you from those you care about. Sometimes permanently.

Coen wishes me luck, and when Clive ruffles my hair, it reminds me of Miles. I miss him. I wonder how he's holding up, if his wounds are healing okay. I hope he isn't worrying about me too much, but I know he is.

With a final wave, I follow Luke. He's several paces ahead of me, and I realize that he has no intention of waiting up for me. I rush to catch up with his quick gait.

It's mid-morning by the time we're navigating the forest surrounding Keir. Even under the shaded canopy, the summer heat is unforgiving. We've been walking for nearly twenty minutes and I'm already drenched in sweat. If it wasn't for the humidity, I don't think I would be this uncomfortable.

I remember Sol's advice from before and cover the back of my neck to save it from sunburn. From my viewpoint, I can see the tanned skin exposed above Luke's collar. I gather that he doesn't burn often, with such dark pigment to protect him from ultraviolet light.

Luke navigates the trees a few steps in front of me. He walks, I follow. Nothing is said. When I'm not watching the ground to make sure I don't trip on the copious undergrowth, my eyes are glued to his back. A bow and quiver is slung across it, the striped feather fletching catching my eye. Did he make them himself? And what of the bird? Did he hunt the fowl for dinner, and pluck its feathers to make for hunting more?

I have little trouble imagining him crafting the materials by hand as I have yet to meet an Outlander who doesn't take advantage of the natural resources.

We continue this way for the better part of an hour, until my curiosity gets the best of me. That, and the thought of spending this entire journey in silence.

"What kind of bird was it?" I ask, interrupting the silence between us. After the words are out of my mouth, I realize how out-of-context the question is, and I mentally slap myself. "The feathers. On your arrows," I clarify, blushing.

For the next few seconds, only the crunch, crunch of our footsteps are heard. Just when I begin to think he won't reply, he does.

"Turkey."

Oh-kay. So what if he doesn't want to elaborate? He at least answered my question, which is more than I expected in the first place.

Still, I feel uncomfortable with the silence between us. With Sol, we shared a companionable silence, both of us were comfortable in each other's presence. All Luke and I are sharing right now is awkwardness. It's like wearing shoes on the wrong feet.

"I haven't officially introduced myself," I stammer, attempting to fill the lull.

Wow, I must be desperate. Especially to pull that dumb line out of some dusty corner of my stupid brain. Nice going, Sophie.

"I know who you are," Luke all but grunts, clearly unamused with my attempt at conversation.

Yeah, well this isn't fun for me either, buddy!

Giving up for the time being, I resign myself to the robotic motions of trekking through the woods. Left foot, step. Right foot, step. Why can't there be an easy, clear path like the one I took to Keir? Then I wouldn't be swatting ferns and other underbrush away from my face just to see the ground.

There are countless things to trip over: tree roots, small plants, and vines, the latter of which happen to be the worst. More vines have looped themselves around the toe of my shoes than all the rest combined. The harmless-looking little leafy vines have stems of steel to trip me up and make me eat dirt.

All this high-stepping makes my thigh muscles burn, and the pace Luke sets doesn't help. I'd rather eat dirt every day for the rest of my life than ask him to slow down. After the millionth time I stumble, Luke stops.

He turns and looks at me like I've just stolen his favorite toy.

"Could you be any louder?" he barks.

"Excuse me?" I haven't said anything in the past hour!

"Look, when you take a step, try and roll your foot from heel to toe," he instructs. "Maybe then you won't sound like a stampeding elephant."

Oh no he did not.

"You can't just go around comparing people to elephants." I cross my arms, appropriating a defensive posture. This man was getting on my nerves. "That's not nice."

"I don't have to be nice, princess." Oh, how I hate that eight-letter word.

Why am I putting up with this again?

Oh yeah. To free Markee.

Sol was right: this will be a dangerous journey. We may kill each other before we make it to the end.