The Poison Season(51)

By the time she made it to the cottage, Leelo’s braid was unraveled, her hands and knees were bloodied from slipping so many times on her way out of the gorge, and her dress was filthy. She couldn’t go home like this, not without some sort of explanation for where she’d been.

She entered the cottage without knocking, her thoughts on all the different conundrums she found herself in.

Jaren glanced up from the book in his lap. The songbook, she saw as he closed it and set it aside. “Hello, Leelo,” he said. “You look like you’ve been on quite an adventure.” His smile faded when he noticed the blood on her. “Saints, are you hurt?”

She snorted and sat down on the floor. “No, just frustrated.” She explained about the cave and the boat, though she left out the part about the lilies, since that had nothing to do with him. She had betrayed Endla enough as it was. She didn’t need to add this to the list.

When she was finished, she waited for Jaren to digest everything. He managed to keep the disappointment he had to be feeling off his face, mostly. “I might be able to repair the boat, if I could get to it. But I’d still need an opportunity to move it to the shore.”

“The council members would wonder how it had gotten fixed, anyway.” Leelo absently untied the ribbon holding what was left of her braid, combing out her hair with her fingers. “I’m sorry. I was hoping to have better news.” She looked up to find Jaren watching her, and she dropped her hands to her lap, suddenly self-conscious.

He cleared his throat and looked away. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “We’ll think of something.”

It was kind of him to say “we” when Leelo knew it was all dependent on her. He couldn’t do anything from here.

“Oh, by the way.” Jaren pulled a piece of parchment off the makeshift table. “It turns out I’m not an artist or a musician. But here.” He handed her the parchment.

“These are instruments?” she asked, turning the paper this way and that because she wasn’t sure what was supposed to be the top.

“You have to imagine them made of wood and metal. And in three dimensions. And properly proportioned.”

She continued to stare at the drawing until he pulled it away from her.

“Okay, so this didn’t help at all. At least it gave me something to do.”

“Keep working on it,” Leelo said with a nod of encouragement.

Jaren brushed an invisible speck of dust off the drawing. “I was thinking—because aside from this masterpiece, I haven’t had anything else to do—about your brother.”

“Tate?” Leelo hadn’t mentioned him to Mama recently because it only seemed to make her sad. But it was nice to have someone to talk about him with. Even if it was an outsider.

“Maybe, if I get off of Endla, I could check on him for you? I could tell him that you’re okay, and I could make sure he’s doing well. I’d have to find him, of course, but it’s entirely possible he ended up in Bricklebury.”

Leelo’s heart stuttered in her chest. “You would do that for me?”

Jaren’s flush reached all the way to the tips of his ears. “Well, sure. It would be the least I could do, considering you saved my life.”

The last time he’d mentioned what she did, she insisted she wasn’t helping him for his sake, that she’d only done it for herself. But she couldn’t claim that was true anymore. She could have brought him supplies and left them outside his door. She didn’t need to bring him drawing supplies, of all things. Spending time with Jaren right now was a choice, not a necessity.

Guilt replaced the hope that had bloomed in her chest just moments ago.

“I should go. I need to clean myself up before I go home.”

“Could I... I don’t mean this to sound untoward, but could I go with you? I haven’t bathed in days and while I’ve become somewhat immune to my own aroma, I can’t imagine it’s particularly pleasant for you.”

Leelo smiled. She couldn’t smell him over her own odor. “Are you sure? I don’t think we’ll encounter anyone, but it could be dangerous.”

“I understand. But if I’m going to die anyway, I’d prefer to do it clean.”



Chapter Thirty


Jaren followed Leelo through the woods as quietly as he could, which was still nowhere near as quietly as Leelo. He was overjoyed at the prospect of washing up, even more so at the notion of cleaning his wound. His leg still hurt, but he’d checked the bandage earlier and hadn’t seen any redness creeping around the edges. That had to be a good sign.

The pond was more of a series of small spring-fed pools, the largest of which was only big enough for two or three people. Jaren walked to it as quickly as he could, already tearing off his filthy tunic and boots. It wasn’t until he was starting to pull off his breeches that he remembered Leelo was behind him. He turned to find her cheeks flaming, her eyes fixed firmly to the ground.

“I’m so sorry,” Jaren said. “I didn’t really think this through.”

She managed to drag her eyes up to his, though he noticed they lingered on his bare torso for just a moment. “I didn’t, either.”

“We can take turns,” Jaren said. “I won’t look. You have my word.”