The morning sun has just barely risen when my eyes ease open. Everything is still, save for the dust motes floating gently through the air. I pull the blanket up to my chin, snuggling deeper into Luke's bedroll. It smells like woodsmoke and some other calming scent I can't put my finger on. I wonder if this is what Luke smells like. It's not like I've been close enough to get a good whiff of him, but if it is, now the scent is buried in my hair. That thought makes me bite back a grin.
I yawn. There is a peace in the air that I never want to disturb. Unfortunately, I have to pee really bad.
When I sit up, my eyes immediately notice that something important is missing. My bedroll is packed away near my bag, and Luke is nowhere to be found.
Silently, I slip out of bed to relieve myself.
Venturing a single step outside, my eyes roam the surrounding trees in search for Luke. Panic creeps its way up my throat. I hate the idea of being out here alone. What if something happened to Luke? I'm not looking forward to being stranded in the middle of nowheresville with hungry wolves.
It's not long before Luke walks out of the brush, and my relief dissolves my anxious nerves. I let my eyes follow his approaching form, tall and golden in the dawn, and gawk at something furry he carries in the crook of his arm. When he finally notices me watching from the doorway, he freezes.
"You're awake," Luke says to me, shifting so that the small animal is facing away from me. "You should start packing your things so we can make good time today."
I nod and peer around him to see what he's found. My eyes widen at the bright red blood dripping off two large ears. I gasp, my hand flying to cover my mouth.
He purses his lips, sighing through his nose. "We may have not had another opportunity for fresh meat. I was going to skin and roast it before you woke up." He shifts, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry you have to see it."
My heart breaks for the tender creature, its life cut short, but Luke is right. It will take days to get to Perseca, and our food supply will not last that long.
Still, the sight of the dead rabbit places a stone in my stomach. I imagine Luke's muscular arms pulling the bowstring taught. The arrow silent and deadly. That rabbit never seeing death's rapid approach.
Is this what Rhett had been trained to do as a Hunter? To kill quickly and quietly to provide food to the citizens of Herald?
"I'll go pack now," I stammer, embarrassed for my outward shock. Luke must think I'm a pansy. I know it was necessary, but I'm not exactly accustomed to seeing dead, bleeding animals first thing in the morning. I slip back inside the little house and pack my things. Luke does not follow me in. I can only assume he's cleaning the rabbit.
A short while later, he enters, making a beeline to the wash basin. I don't look, not wanting to see the blood on his hands, so I work on folding Luke's bedroll neatly, securing it with the fabric ties. I access the room, ensuring that nothing will be left forgotten.
After a moment of hearing Luke fiddling around in front of the fireplace, I get curious. Slowly walking up behind him, I peer over his shoulder to see raw meat on a skewer in each of his hands. Luke has rekindled the flames and is roasting the rabbit quarters over the fire.
"The meat is tough this way, but it's the fastest," Luke explains, sensing my presence behind him. It is so like the Outlander in him to view the food as nutrition alone instead of valuing it for the taste. Luke is all survival.
"I can help," I say timidly, reaching for the other two skewers beside him. I bring them to the fire, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Luke. The fabric of his sleeve rubs my bare skin just above my elbow, and my skin tingles at the soft brush.
We watch as the edges of the meat brown. I rotate them every few minutes until Luke tells me to stop, then he slides the pieces off the skewer and wraps them up, storing them in his pack. With that done, we are ready to depart. With a final look back at the little stone house we spent the night in, I follow Luke into the forest.
The sun is unrelenting today. We walk for the first few hours with no problem, but as the sun rises higher, the heat intensifies. By the time we stop to eat lunch, I've never been so uncomfortable in my life. Every part of me is drenched in sweat. I ache all over, probably a combination of walking nonstop and only the thin bedroll separating me from sleeping on the hard ground. I developed another blister, too.
Sitting back against a tree, I stretch my limbs out, hoping to ease some of my knotted muscles. Luke says we should save the rabbit for dinner because it would make a heavier meal, so I wolf down my nuts and berries in the shade. The reprieve is short, and soon we're off trekking through the woods again.
As the afternoon wears on, a small frown plants itself on my face when I discover my water canteen only has a small fraction of its original contents left.
"Don't worry too much about the water," Luke pipes from beside me. I start, not realizing he was watching me. "We should be coming up on a stream to replenish our canteens soon."
It's odd. Yesterday, I had to drag words out of him. Today he offers them freely, speaking to me out of his own free will. I don't even have to ask questions.
I enjoy his willingness to talk to me. Plus, if I had to endure the silence between us for the days to come, I surely would have gone mental.
"How much longer is it to Perseca?" I query. What I really want to know is how many nights I'll have to spend in the Outlands. With many things about the Outlands uncertain, I've learned the nights are much more treacherous than the days.
"Six days, if we keep making good time," he answers. He looks at me, debating internally for a moment. "You've been doing well, keeping pace," he says approvingly. My heart swells with pride at his comment. It almost makes the pain worth it.
"Does that mean you'd be willing to take a break?" I venture, a small grin on my face. He chuckles and stops walking. I do a little dance.
"We still have a few hours left to walk before the day is done, so don't get too excited," he chides, but I'm too ecstatic about sitting down to even think about the miles we still have to walk.
"What exactly is in Perseca?" I ask, dropping down to the ground. I'm careful not to sit in the sticky burrs again. "The Summus mentioned studying. It is like a school?"
Luke sits beside me, fidgeting with a piece of tree bark on the ground. I watch as his long fingers crumble the rough, dried-out bark with a satisfying crunch.
"No, it's not a school anymore, but there are people there who study Skinwalkers and help us try to fight them," he replies. "I've been a few times, bringing news to and from my father."
"It doesn't sound like many people go out that way," I add.
"No, not by choice." As if sensing the question on my lips, he continues. "It's where they originated. The Skinwalkers."
I stifle a gasp. Surely it's a dangerous place if it bore the Summus' mortal enemies. In turn, that would be the best place strategically to learn about their motives for attacking. The violence I've been told they're capable of is inhumane; what kind of war methods will I be researching when I arrive?
I'm pulled out of my thoughts by a feather-light touch on my ankle. I look down to see Luke's fingers angling my foot so that he can see my heel red and blistered from where the back of my shoe has rubbed up against it constantly. His lips are pressed into a thin line as he assesses. It is bright red surrounded by the gritty dirt of travel. Embarrassed, I pull my foot away.
"It's fine, I've had blisters before," I speak into the silence.
"We still have days to walk. Those are going to rupture, and hurt worse," Luke says with a stern look. He stands and offers me his hand. I hesitate only for a fraction of a second before slipping my hand into his larger one, letting him pull me up.
"I will fix this," he says to me. His eyes are vibrantly green, blazing with determination. I'm hardly breathing under his intense gaze, keenly aware of his calloused fingers still wrapped around mine. As if realizing the same thing, he drops my hand gently and turns back to the forest.
We start walking again, his strides purposeful and swift.
"It should be around here somewhere," he mumbles. Curious as to what he's looking for, I stay on his heels. When he abruptly stops, my feet go out from under me, slipping on fallen leaves while trying to stop myself from crashing into his back. Luckily, I regain my balance before I hit the ground.
Oblivious to my near-fall, he stands still as the trees, eyes closed, listening. Not wanting to add any noise pollution, I copy him. Planting my feet and closing my eyes, I listen.
At first, I can't hear anything over the sound of my own breathing, heavy from the brisk pace Luke set. Gradually, I take in deeper breaths, forcing myself to slow down. Eventually, I begin to hear the leaves rusting in the trees. There are distant bird calls echoing through the air. Then I hear something I don't expect. The sound of running water.
I open my eyes to find Luke grinning at me, and I can't help but smile back. He jerks his head in the direction of the flowing sound and takes my hand, pulling me along through the brush. His excitement is contagious and I laugh as we bounce through the forest. It's not long before we break through the trees and come upon a rushing stream, sparkling and clear in the mid-afternoon sun.
I immediately divest myself of my pack and bedroll, tossing them and my shoes on the bank of the stream before stepping in. The cool water flows around my ankles, and it's immediately relieving. I giggle, wiggling my toes underwater when tiny silver fish begin to nibble at them.
"Ticklish?" Luke asks, reaching down to fill his canteen with the cool liquid. After he's done, he grabs my canteen from my things and fills it as well, then hands it to me to drink. I gulp down my fill and reach back down to fill it to the brim once again.
"Thank you," I sigh, fully sated. Taking a seat on the bank, stretching out so my feet are still in the stream, I work on scrubbing the filth from my legs and arms. The caked-on dirt and grime turns to muddy rivulets as it is washed clean back into the stream.
Drawing my feet from the soothing water, I reach for my pack to procure the first aid kit Coen gifted me, but Luke crouches down and stops me, taking it instead.
"Let me," he insists. I am too baffled to refuse. Luke takes my gaping silence as consent and opens the first aid kit before me.
Inside, we find gauze, various bandages, and the salve Luke spread on my cuts yesterday, which look much better now. After letting my feet air-dry, he takes some of the salve and rubs it gently over the blisters. One of them has ripped open, and he is sure to use special care with that one. Next, he places a bandage on each of them, and I am thankful for their protective padding.
Reluctant to put my shoes back on, I lay back on the grass. If I were in Herald, I would love to just relax and watch the clouds pass by. Instead, I'm in the Outlands in the middle of the humid forest with the sun in my eyes. I fling an arm over my forehead, closing my eyes for a brief moment of peace. To be so still and quiet like this is a luxury I've never had in Herald. We were always on the go, never having the time to slow down and just listen to the birdsong and feel the sun on my skin. I feel like my body is sinking into the earth one breath at a time. After a few minutes, I hear Luke rustling the grass beside my ear. He chuckles.
"You're not going to fall asleep on me, are you?" he jokes. I sigh and sit up. "As much as I would like to let you rest, we have to get going." The tone of his voice tells me he means it, and I warm at the thought.
Refreshed and patched up, we pick up a pace that more than makes up for our little detour, not stopping until the sun is just above the horizon.
Luke and I come up to what once was a wooden shelter reminiscent of a log cabin, but the walls have since fallen onto itself, its roof leaning down to the ground, creating a strange sort of lean-to.
Luke's face crumples in the blink of an eye. The surprise in his wide eyes quickly turns into frustration, then something on the verge of panic. Then it hits me: this was supposed to be our shelter for the night.
I can feel the tension rolling off of Luke so thick, I could collect some and preserve it like a jar of Vera's blackberry jam. At a loss, he runs his palm across his sweaty brow and into his hair, the moisture giving it a slicked-back look.
If Luke is worried, then I'm on the verge of an anxiety attack.
"We can just find another place to sleep, right?" I query weakly. In no way am I okay with the thought of spending the night out in the open.
Luke shakes his head once, massaging his temple. "Nothing for another few hours walk. And we are absolutely not moving through the forest in the dark."
Out of the forest behind us is heard an eerie hoot, as if mocking us in our predicament. The owl's call raises goosebumps along my arms.
With the sun inching lower and lower below the horizon, our options dwindle with the light. There's an aching in my chest that is making it hard for me to breathe. I tuck my arms around my stomach and sit down near the ruined structure, not trusting myself to stay steady on my feet. My hands shake uncontrollably, and I tuck them in my armpits and focus on breathing.
Another owl's cry echoes through the trees, and for the first time since after Rhett was taken, the fear gripping my heart explodes into a living nightmare.