By the time we reach the far side of the ridge, they’ve loaded the boat and pushed it out from shore. Roon stands in the surf, holding the kayak steady while my sister ties herself into the front seat.
If I’d hoped I was wrong about what they were doing, it can’t be denied once Roon sees us coming. He yells to Lees to hurry as he pushes the double kayak out into deeper water. Waves crash, swallowing his voice. Lees is still tying the sash at her waist when he hops onto the deck and slides his feet into the rear seat.
“Roon, stop!” Kol’s voice bursts from his throat as he hobbles up behind me. But Roon turns away from his brother, moving faster.
“You can’t make us stay,” he calls.
But Kol can. He has already clambered down the face of the ridge to the water’s edge and is splashing into the sea. And though Kol is clearly limping on his left leg, he hardly slows. The pain in his knee must be terrible, but the threat of his brother getting away is even worse.
“Stop now!” he yells. One final warning.
Then he is there, right beside Roon, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him from the boat. Kol’s knee buckles, but he rights himself before he falls. Roon pushes hard against Kol, but it’s futile. Despite his injury, despite his pain, Kol is determined to stop his brother. I watch as Roon slides from the kayak and tumbles headfirst into the sea.
The boat rocks hard. Lees shrieks. Sun glints off the paddle in her hand, its wood bleached white from wear.
Roon rights himself, whipping his wet hair from his face, spraying Kol with icy water. For a moment, as he stands facing his brother in the shallows, his fists balled, I wonder if he will try to strike him. If he’s thinking of it, Kol doesn’t wait for him to act. He grabs the kayak and walks away, pulling it to the base of the ridge, my sister still sitting in the front seat.
Scrambling down the rock face, I reach the spot where the boat bobs in the waves. Lees defiantly remains in the seat—still tied in—with no apparent plan to move. Roon, drenched through and shivering, stands in the water at her side. He glares at Kol as my sister glares at me—as if they hate us.
“You fools,” are the first words I say.
“Save yourself the trouble,” Lees says. “We don’t want your counsel. We won’t stay. You cannot force us—”
“It isn’t just me you’re defying—”
“I don’t care about Chev—”
“Do you care about the Divine? Check the position of the sun. It’s almost time for Arem’s funeral. The Manu will pass along this ridge in just a little while, carrying their High Elder to his grave.”
I notice Roon flinch, just a small buckle of the knees. Maybe it’s a reaction to what I said. Maybe it’s the icy water dripping from his hair, running down his neck and under the collar of his parka.
“How do you think the Divine would respond if Roon did not attend his father’s burial?” I continue. “How do you think she would reward such disrespect? Do you think she would bless the Manu—or the Olen either—if you two ran away at the time Roon should be the most faithful to his family and clan?”
Lees stares right through me, her eyes filling with rage, until the rage melts into tears. The back of a damp hand—bright red with cold—sweeps across her face, and sobs roll out of her. “I won’t stay. Let the Divine destroy me. I won’t stay to marry Morsk.”
Roon, still standing in ankle-deep surf, slides an arm around her shoulders and pulls her against him, and she drops her head to his chest. Her words are muffled by his parka as she chokes and coughs, “I won’t stay. I won’t stay.”
As angry as I am, I’m not immune to Lees’s tears. With each sob, my resolve weakens.
I want to tell her she won’t have to marry Morsk. I want to tell her we’ll change Chev’s mind, but I can’t promise that. My head echoes with Morsk’s words to me as he stood too close in the hut—with one word, you can save Lees. My eyes move to Kol but he is turned away.
“Roon,” I say, my tone changed—anger replaced by concern. “You should get up on land before you freeze.”
When he doesn’t move, doesn’t even shift his weight, Lees pulls away from him and starts to untie the sash. “She’s right,” she says, her voice steadying. She knows there is nothing to be gained with sobs. She wipes her eyes and unceremoniously climbs from the kayak, tugging Roon behind her when she scrambles onto the rocks.
The four of us sit looking out to sea, and no one speaks for a long time. I begin to worry about what might be happening back at camp. Urar will be preparing Arem’s body, rubbing it with red ocher. A stretcher would have already been fashioned of long shafts of bone or ivory, draped with a mammoth pelt to carry the body. People will be looking for Kol and Roon soon.
“Where were you running to?” I finally ask.
“I won’t say,” Lees answers. She tilts her chin up but keeps her eyes focused on the sea. “When we get our next chance, we’ll go, and I don’t want you to know where to look.” Her voice remains even and calm, but her words cut me like claws.
“You can’t do that,” I say. “You can’t . . .” My voice trails off. She can do whatever she wants, and I know I’m powerless to stop her.
“Don’t worry. We’re prepared.”
A wave comes in hard, jostling the kayak and freeing it from the rocks. The receding water pulls the boat out, and Kol splashes in and catches it before it can wash farther out to sea.
He reaches a hand into the front seat and pulls a pack out from beneath the deck. The size of it brushes me back—the size of a pack you might take on an extended hunting trip. “How long were you planning to stay away?” I ask, fear hushing my voice to a murmur.
“Forever,” Lees answers, and with that one word the fear flares and knocks the breath from me.
“You took everything you would need to survive?” Kol asks, his tone incredulous.
“We did—”
“Tools, pelts, weapons?”
“Yes—”
“Food?”
“Everything,” Roon says. “The pack on Lees’s back is full of food. Enough to hold us until we could hunt.”
“But where did you get it all?” I ask. I turn to my sister, looking at her with a new understanding. I have been underestimating her.
“Roon helps in the kitchen. He’s been stashing away whatever he can—”
“Before today? Before Chev’s announcement?”
“We had a plan.” She turns to me now, a hard edge of determination darkening her eyes, stealing their warmth. “I didn’t know what Chev would do when he found out about us, but I knew it wouldn’t be good.”
My thoughts snag on Lees’s words like a toe catching on a hidden root—I’m so taken by surprise I’ve no chance to keep myself from tumbling. I clutch at fragments of memories of Chev, grasping for something that will right me and set me back on my feet, but every thought that comes to mind sends me spiraling farther. He has never been particularly hard on Lees—no harder than he is on any of us—but she knows his priorities. What reason has he ever given her to trust that he would let her interests come before the clan’s?
But then, isn’t that what it means to be a strong High Elder? To put the interests of the clan first, no matter the sacrifice? I can’t say that Lees’s charge against Chev is wrong. But I can’t say that Chev is acting outside the code he’s set for himself.
But what is right? As Kol sets the pack of supplies at my feet, I turn that question in my mind. But I find no answer.
As we sit, I watch a group of gulls circle a rocky island far out in the water. I remember the shags I hunted this morning, the way they wouldn’t leave their young. How this instinct to protect was a weakness instead of a strength.
Images rise and fade in my mind—the rocky island, the swarm of birds, the broken skull, the blood dripping from the net. Instinct isn’t always best. Am I protecting Lees by forcing her to stay in camp, I wonder, or is this instinct a weakness in me, too?
I stare hard at the pack of supplies, imagining Roon readying everything he and Lees would need. They will run again. She said so herself. And when they do, they will be sure they can’t be found. I will lose my sister forever.
My eyes move from the pack to the boat to the paddles. I turn to Kol, who casts no shadow. The sun is directly overhead. It’s time for the burial of his father. There’s no more time to think, only time to act.
“I have an idea,” I say. “A way to keep Lees safe from Chev’s plans.”