The Host (The Host #1)(59)

It was hard—he didn’t make much noise and he didn’t guide me, so I had to walk with one hand in front of my face and one hand on the wall, trying not to run into the rock. I fell twice on the uneven floor. Though he did not help me, he did wait till he could hear that I was on my feet again to continue. Once, hurrying through a straighter section of the tube, I got too close and my searching hand touched his back, traced across the shape of his shoulders, before I realized that I hadn’t reached another wall. He jumped ahead, jerking out from under my fingers with an angry hiss.

“Sorry,” I whispered, feeling my cheeks turn warm in the darkness.

He didn’t respond, but sped his pace so that following was even more difficult.

I was confused when, finally, some light appeared ahead of me. Had we taken a different route? This was not the white brilliance of the biggest cavern. It was muted, pale and silvery. But the narrow crevice we’d had to pass through seemed the same.… It wasn’t until I was inside the giant, echoing space that I realized what caused the difference.

It was nighttime; the light that shone dimly from above mimicked the light of the moon rather than the sun. I used the less-blinding illumination to examine the ceiling, trying to ferret out its secret. High, so very high above me, a hundred tiny moons shone their diluted light toward the dim, distant floor. The little moons were scattered in patternless clusters, some farther away than others. I shook my head. Even though I could look directly at the light now, I still didn’t understand it.

“C’mon,” Jared ordered angrily from several paces ahead.

I flinched and hurried to follow. I was sorry I’d let my attention wander. I could see how much it irritated him to have to speak to me.

I didn’t expect the help of a flashlight when we reached the room with the rivers, and I didn’t receive it. It was dimly lit now, too, like the big cave, but with only twenty-odd miniature moons here. Jared clenched his jaw and stared at the ceiling while I walked hesitantly into the room with the inky pool. I guessed that if I stumbled into the fierce underground hot spring and disappeared, Jared would probably see it as a kind intervention of fate.

I think he would be sad, Melanie disagreed as I edged my way around the black bathing room, hugging the wall. If we fell.

I doubt it. He might be reminded of the pain of losing you the first time, but he would be happy if I disappeared.

Because he doesn’t know you, Melanie whispered, and then faded away as if she were suddenly exhausted.

I stood frozen where I was, surprised. I wasn’t sure, but it felt as though Melanie had just given me a compliment.

“Move it,” Jared barked from the other room.

I hurried as fast as the darkness and my fear would allow.

When we returned, Jeb was waiting by the blue lamp; at his feet were two lumpy cylinders and two uneven rectangles. I hadn’t noticed them before. Perhaps he’d gone to get them while we were away.

“Are you sleeping here tonight or am I?” Jeb asked Jared in a casual tone.

Jared looked at the shapes by Jeb’s feet.

“I am,” he answered curtly. “And I only need one bedroll.”

Jeb raised a thick eyebrow.

“It’s not one of us, Jeb. You left this on me—so butt out.”

“She’s not an animal, either, kid. And you wouldn’t treat a dog this way.”

Jared didn’t answer. His teeth ground together.

“Never figured you for a cruel man,” Jeb said softly. But he picked up one of the cylinders, put his arm through a strap, and slung it over his shoulder, then stuffed one rectangle—a pillow—under his arm.

“Sorry, honey,” he said as he passed me, patting my shoulder.

“Cut that out!” Jared growled.

Jeb shrugged and ambled away. Before he was out of sight, I hurried to disappear into my cell; I hid in its darkest reaches, coiling myself into a tight ball that I hoped was too small to see.

Instead of lurking silently and invisibly in the outside tunnel, Jared spread his bedroll directly in front of the mouth of my prison. He plumped his pillow a few times, possibly trying to rub it in that he had one. He lay down on the mat and crossed his arms over his chest. That was the piece of him that I could see through the hole—just his crossed arms and half of his stomach.

His skin was that same dark gold tan that had haunted my dreams for the last half year. It was very strange to have that piece of my dream in solid reality not five feet from me. Surreal.

“You won’t be able to sneak past me,” he warned. His voice was softer than before—sleepy. “If you try…” He yawned. “I will kill you.”

I didn’t respond. The warning struck me as a bit of an insult. Why would I try to sneak past him? Where would I go? Into the hands of the barbarians out there waiting for me, all of them wishing that I would make exactly that kind of stupid attempt? Or, supposing I could somehow sneak past them, back out into the desert that had nearly baked me to death the last time I’d tried to cross it? I wondered what he thought me capable of. What plan did he think I was hatching to overthrow their little world? Did I really seem so powerful? Wasn’t it clear how pathetically defenseless I was?

I could tell when he was deeply asleep because he started twitching the way Melanie remembered he occasionally did. He only slept so restlessly when he was upset. I watched his fingers clench and unclench, and I wondered if he was dreaming that they were wrapped around my neck.