Chapter Sixteen

The little girl's eyes sparkled when they came upon the emerald green jewel. Even the chain glimmered, the pendant lying gracefully upon her mother's collarbone. "Your father gave it to me," her mother had explained when she'd asked. "It's how he asked me to marry him."

"Mama," the girl poked at the other side of the pendant as she read the letters carved into it. "What's Anya?"

Her mother laughed lightly. "That's me, silly! Just how you're Veia, I'm Anya and your daddy is Bell. Can you say that?" The little girl nodded, repeating the name. "You have to remember that for if you're ever in trouble. Can you promise me you'll try to remember?"

"Mm-hm."

"Good girl." She rustled her daughter's hair.

That same little girl ran into her house years later under the promise of one item to take with her to the orphanage. Her mother was gone, her father along with her, and even her little Juna had left her behind. She wiped her eyes, staying strong for her family, and grabbed the bright green necklace off her mother's bedside table. "I'll remember more than just your name," she pressed the jewel to her chest.

"I'll never forget."

"That's such a pretty necklace!" Lefeli squealed, clasping her hands together and doting over the pendant. "Did you say it was your mother's? Why isn't it with her?"

"She's dead," I ground through my teeth, "and it was stolen from my house back in Esterwilde. Why was it in your bag?"

Lefeli's gaze slid down to the sack in my fist and she cocked her head to the side. "That's Atlas' bag, not mine."

I furrowed my brows. That made no sense whatsoever—I had just seen Lefeli's belongings in it and I had never seen Atlas even touch it before. I held up the bag to see and my mouth dropped open.

It was Atlas' bag. It didn't even look similar to the bag in the pile up the mountain—leather instead of burlap, a satchel and not a sack—it was impossible for me to have accidentally grabbed the wrong bag. But then Lefeli hadn't seemed to recognize the necklace when I'd showed it to her, and now that I thought about it, the necklace was on the ground, not in Lefeli's bag, so it could have fallen out of another bag... and in order for me to accidentally switch Lefeli's bag with Atlas', they would've had to have been near each other, which could... mean...

I snapped my mouth shut, disbelief still pulsing through my mind. It couldn't be... but... I wound more scenarios through my head, connecting the dots as a panic formed in my throat. The more I thought, the more it made sense. It was likely he visited my house before Tremie's shop when he was searching for me, and travelers are always in need of money... I choked on my breath.

"Did Atlas steal my necklace?"

It came out so quiet I thought it was in my head, but Lefeli let out a small gasp. "Why would he want to steal something like that?" She whispered, shock in her features as she huddled closer like a secret was being held between us. "No offense, but it doesn't look like it would sell for much."

"No," I said, staring at the jewel cradled between my two hands, my mind still spinning frenetically. The bag hung like deadweight from my arm. "This necklace is actually an antique passed down from my father's family, inherited through several generations, which is why it meant so much to my mother. It's been taken care of so it looks only a little outdated, but if one has a good eye, they would realize this could probably be sold to buy a small estate."

Lefeli gawked at it, her eyes wide and twinkling. "I never would've thought..."

But, I thought, my chest aching at the thought, Atlas just might.

I looked up to see him a ways down the ravine talking with Evyne, and I suddenly became dizzy. It was him, and I hadn't even taken the time to think before falling headfirst into his charm and carefully scripted words.

How could I have been so careless?

By that night, we had collected all our belongings near a clearing and tied Birdy to a tree close by. At sunset, we'd managed to start a small fire and switch to less ragged clothes. Our other outfits hung from a line taking up half the space around the fire, and the four of us sat around the other half. I was dead silent and Lefeli cast me worried glances every few minutes. Thankfully, she hadn't mentioned the issue to anyone else, so I had time to think about the best course of action. Rather obsessively.

Should I address it with him out front? Should I just dismiss it? No, horrible idea. What if he stole something else? Was he planning to sell my necklace in Azareba? Why hadn't he already? Was Evyne in on it? How could she not be? I found myself staring at the back of Atlas' head as he gazed passively at the fire, his arm still cradled in the sling I had made him.

I couldn't let him come any closer to me than he already had. He was messing with my head and weakening my senses. That was why I was so unexplainably vulnerable around him, why my heart beat so fast and my thoughts spiraled in never-ending circles around him—he had probably done the same thing to multiple others with similar situations.

"I salvaged some bread from the cart." Evyne popped up from behind me and I jumped. Atlas glanced at me curiously. "There's still food left for almost a week, but our water jugs cracked, so we'll have to filter some from the river. Atlas can't do much now, either"—he opened his mouth indignantly, but shut it again with a grunt—"so Veia and I should set out in the morning for some food. Atlas and Lefeli can try to find a way to carry our things or pick through what to leave behind."

"Sounds good," Lefeli agreed. "But if we can't find something to carry our stuff in, me and Atlas can only go through our own bags to figure out what to leave behind."

"That's fine," I blurted, quicker than I had intended. Atlas raised his eyebrows.

I don't want him going through my stuff anyway.

I stood suddenly and muttered something about finding some more wood, then swiveled around and left the three of them staring. I heard someone say something as I crossed toward the river. I didn't know what.

Water soaked into my boots when I ran through a mud puddle, the tears in the leather seeping cold water to my stockings. I started into a sprint down the slope, dodging trees and slipping between stumps and bushes until I skidded to a stop at the loud, crashing river.

I stared at the black water, the frothing current creating a thick, heavy mist like a woolen veil draped over the riverside. I couldn't see to the other side and a series of shivers worked its way down to my toes. The ground beneath me clung to my boots and squashed under my weight and my hand went to my chest, my racing heartbeat an erratic indication of my frantic emotions.

I found a drier spot on the ground and sat, my hands supporting my chin, my sight still spinning in a dizzying, wobbling blur. Who were these people I had agreed to travel with? Lefeli, an immature, over-dramatic girl who acted ten years younger than her actual age—did I really know anything about her? Her interests, her pastimes? And Evyne. I knew nothing beyond the fact that her temper could tame a bear and she was the sister of Atlas.

And then there was Atlas. I had dared to think, if even for only a passing moment, that I might have had a friend in him—or even something more than that. I had nearly admitted to the odd way he made me act, and feel, and even yet at the way he always managed to find a way into my daydreams. I had let down my outermost barriers, inadvertently showing him more than I had intended at the mention of my family. But what did I really know about him? Did I know his history or his interests? What could I have possibly seen in him past his perfectly carved face and the warmth of his skin? Had it all been an illusion, those passing thoughts and wishes and faroff, hopeless dreams? Had I really been so naive as to trust a set of complete strangers? What would my mother think of me now?

"You must stay safe for me," her willowy voice echoed in the corners of my memory. "Always love your friends, and know well your enemies..."

I rested my head on my hands as I lay in the grass, listening to the ground and the insects and the frogs. When had it come to be that I depended on others to solve my problems?

"Remember us," my mother said somewhere past the roar of the river.

Even when I'd lived in the orphanage, I'd fended for myself, earning my own food and my own bed through hard work and dedication. I'd had to earn my stay in the orphanage, I'd had to earn my jobs in the town, and I'd had to earn my life in my small, meager cottage with my small, meager belongings and my small, meager grounds. For my whole life, I'd earned what I'd received. Why all of a sudden did I so heavily depend on the lives of others whom I barely knew?

"... know well your enemies..."

My eyes drifted closed with my mother's voice repeating like an automaton in the back of my mind. The sounds of the river dulled to a distant shush and I found myself remembering the embrace of my parents and doubting my many choices as I fell into a shivering, exhausted sleep.