Dani leaned forward and rotated the meat.
The silence wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was prolonged. The rain coming down on the awning and the whipping about of tree branches produced enough noise to let the silence stretch without seeming anti-social, but Lynn’s time to prove herself was ticking away. She searched for a topic. “You said ‘most likely.’” She glanced to the side.
Dani turned her head toward her and frowned. “Most likely?”
“That your parents were ‘most likely’ dead.”
“Ah.” Dani turned her head back.
Sure, remind her of her dead parents! Great strategy to show you’re not an asshole. She got ready to apologize.
“My father is dead. We were attacked on the road. He told me to run, and I did. They hung him.” Dani plucked at her blanket. “I found him the next day.”
Lynn swallowed. “I’m really sorry.”
Dani shrugged. “Me too.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen. We’d just left New Town. Have you heard of it?” She looked up to check.
Lynn nodded. “Yeah. Biggest newly established city anywhere, as far as everyone I’ve ever met knows.”
“It’s a shit hole. We escaped when—” She licked her lips. “Never mind. We left.”
Lynn didn’t probe further. “And your mom?”
“She was alive five years ago, but five years is a long time. I assume she’s dead.”
“You got separated?”
“I guess you could say that.” Dani’s jaw set.
Back away slowly. “My mom died when I was three. My dad when I was six.” Lynn didn’t like to talk about it, but Dani had shared first, so it was only right that she told her story as well. She stirred the broth in both tins. “The building we were sleeping in collapsed around us. It killed almost everyone in the group, including my dad.” The memories swirled up.
Dani was watching her again. “And your mom?”
“Died while giving birth to my baby brother.” Lynn adjusted her coat to busy her hands—and mind.
“Did he—?”
Lynn shook her head.
“I’m sorry.” She sounded genuinely upset.
Lynn sighed. “That’s how it goes.”
Dani nodded slowly. “Yeah. It is.” She rotated the meat again.
Lynn needed a few seconds to steel herself before she could go on, but she was determined to give Dani a chance to get to know her.
The rain that pelted down covered the silence.
“The woman who stepped up to care for me—Anna—took me to a nearby settlement after it happened. Predators got her. After that, the group took care of me as best they could. There was an old woman in the camp Anna took me to. Everyone called her Old Lady Senna. In hindsight she probably wasn’t that old—late fifties, maybe—but she had all these scars from a bear attack that had left her crippled. She could make anything out of bamboo and reed.” Lynn smiled at the memory. Her fingers remembered too: they worked together to weave the air. She watched them as if they were separate from her.
Dani glanced at them too.
“Old Lady Senna used to make these beautiful pieces of art as if it was nothing. Mostly little animals like swans, bears, and wolves. The group had a few kids, and we used to play with the animals she made. I carried one of her little creations around with me for a long time, until it crumbled. I can’t make them like she did, but she taught me a lot. Honestly, it’s the only relatively useful thing I can do besides hunt and scavenge. I can make snares, bowls, baskets, bags, fishing pods, anything that involves weaving. If I have the right materials, I can weave them tight enough to hold water.” She looked up and smiled at Dani.
“She gave me something to do, and it saved my life more times than I can count. Weaving allowed me to carry water, catch food, or make something to trade in exchange for a night spent in safety. I owe her a lot.”
Dani examined her, then smiled.
Lynn wondered what she was thinking and felt oddly vulnerable. She didn’t like to share things about herself—especially not things that she held dear. These good memories were sacred. If they became tainted somehow, she’d have nothing to fall back on during the times when the weight of the world felt crushing. “She died when I was twelve, and I’ve been making my own way through since.”
“You’re still alive, so you’re doing something right.” Dani’s tone was soft.
Lynn shrugged. “I guess. I don’t think there is much of an alternative, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” The way Dani looked at her made Lynn feel as if she was missing a glaringly obvious alternative that escaped her.
“Um, I think the meat’s about done.”
“Yeah, I think so too. Plate?” Dani looked around for her backpack.
“I’ll get mine. We can share.” Before Dani could protest, she got up and walked past a noisily chewing Skeever to her pack.
When Lynn returned with the plate, Dani pushed the meat off the sticks.
Lynn glanced out into the rain. “Do you want to go inside?”
“Let’s eat here.”
“Okay. We’ll do that.” Lynn reached out to take a piece of goose meat, then realized it was rude to help herself first and pushed the plate toward Dani instead.
Dani snorted. “Overdoing it.” She smiled a little, so Lynn was okay with the jab.
“Since I’m on a deadline, I figured I’d go the extra mile.” She showed her teeth in a grin.
Dani laughed, a short little bark that ended in a nasal snort.
Lynn’s gut fluttered upon hearing it. She looked down to the plate so she could select a piece equal in size to the one Dani had taken. It was dark meat, tough, and a little bitter. The complex layers of flavors made her hum. “Perfect.”
Dani smiled in response and chewed with her eyes closed.
The second the first bite hit her stomach, Lynn realized how hungry she’d been. It rumbled for more, and Lynn filled it with her fair share of the meat. Then she fed it a large bowl of broth to boot. Afterward, while Dani prepared their bed for the night out of their combined blankets, she sat and added the brittle remains of a side table to the fire.
When Dani said something over the unrelenting rain, Lynn checked to see if she was addressing her.
Dani sat on the bed and spoke to Skeever, who’d come to join her. She stroked his back and scratched him under his jaw until he rolled over so she could rub his chest and belly.
Lynn smiled.
Dani’s hair tumbled when she leaned in to rub her face against his fur.
Skeever kicked with his hind leg in a way Lynn had come to recognize as extreme happiness.
She turned away to let the two bond again after their troubled reunion. She really hoped—for his sake as well as her own—that this night wouldn’t be the only one they’d get to spend with Dani. Even with the tension, it felt good to get a chance to prove herself.
CHAPTER 11
THERE WAS ONLY SO MUCH one could do to prove their worth during the night, when both parties had to sleep. While Dani slept, Lynn kept the fire going with more ancient furniture and watched out for danger. For most of her shift, the rain plummeted down, and unsurprisingly not a single animal had come close to their shelter. The rain had ended now, but Lynn hadn’t seen more than a couple of bats and a troop of monkeys with large eyes that reflected the light of the fire.
She was tired. Her legs ached, and her back felt uncomfortably stiff. Even with small bouts of jumping jacks and short walks around the crumbling fountain in the front yard, she was feeling the aftereffects of yesterday’s hard push. The bite on her arm stung, and she’d spent almost an hour pushing pus and grime out of the punctures and patching up her arm with fresh ointment and bandages.