Seeker (Riders #2)(58)

Riot lifts off as soon as I cue him. We shoot after her, kicking up dead branches and vaulting over logs.

Daryn dismounts at the edge of the field. "Look." She strides up to a sheet of rough-edged paper nailed to one of the tree carcasses.

Tearing it free, she reads.





CHAPTER 21

DARYN

I read it twice.

As I'm finishing the second time, I can't stop myself from laughing, with this rising sun inside my heart.

"What is it?" Jode asks.

"It's  …  It's better if I just read it aloud." I lift the sheet and project my voice.

Jode, Gideon, Daryn, Marcus,

I knew you'd come get me, but I still can't believe you're really here!

It's too dangerous for me to tell you how to find me. Stay near the lake and I'll find you.

Do you know where the lake is? I marked the way, just to play with safety.

Thanks, you guys. I can't wait to see you and Shadow. I can't wait to go HOME!

-Bas

Gideon is the first to react. He jumps off Riot and reaches me in quick strides, peering at the paper. "It could be fake."

"It's not fake! It's from him."

He takes the paper and reads it. The grim expression on his face never changes.

He hands it to Jode, who reads it.

Jode hands it to Marcus, who reads it, too.

"Could be another relic," Jode says. "It could be just another false object."

"No! It's from him," I say. "That's from Sebastian. Look-he even wrote 'play with safety.' That's him. Only Bas would mangle that. He did it to prove to us it's him. I'm positive. This is how we find him. We go to this lake and we wait there. You guys  …  this is it."

Marcus and Gideon communicate in their silent language, but I know what they're worried about. I feel their skepticism. Jode's, too. They're on the verge of discussing ambushes and setups and a hundred other "what if" scenarios. But I'm not standing on the sidelines anymore. I'm not waiting for certainty to come through visions, or strategizing, or any other way. What kind of plan could ever feel solid here, in this utterly unreliable place?

Instinct. Faith. That's what I can count on. I don't know what will come of believing this letter. But I do know that I want to be the type of person who can believe in positive turns. Not everything has to be out to destroy us.

Like Isabel said, I'm trusting.

I take the paper from Marcus. "You guys don't have to go wait for him, but I am."

"Daryn, hold on."

"No, thanks." I keep walking. "I'm going. You can join me or not. Your choice."

As I walk to Shadow, I pray my momentum is enough to get them moving, to bring them with me.

It is.

Half an hour later, guided by the trail of broken branches Bas left to point the way, we find the lake.

We check the area, following the shoreline one way and then back the other, Jode never lowering his bow for more than seconds at a time. Apart from the begonias, which we're all becoming used to seeing, there's no sign of danger, or of Bas. We brush down the forest floor with branches to erase our tracks. Then we set up a campsite away from the banks.

By the time we finish it's growing dark, so Marcus and Jode gather wood to get a fire going. Gideon and I head to the lake for water.



       
         
       
        

We're quiet on the walk, but the silence isn't comfortable. We haven't really talked since we went through our ordeal-our joint nightmare. We should probably discuss it, but it's the last thing I want to do.

Gideon stakes his sword as we reach the gravelly shore. The lake is vast, the trees on the opposite shoreline miniature. The water shines dully under the starlight, like pewter, and whirls of fog curl across its surface. After so much time beneath the stifling green canopy, the view of the open water and of the stars blinking to life in the dusky sky fills my lungs with fresh hope.

"You think it's poisonous?" Gideon asks.

"The water? No. But just in case, you should probably drink it first."

Blue eyes slide over, and he smiles. "I wish you weren't kidding. Should we go together?"

"Sure."

We fill our canteens, count to three, and drink. It's delicious, cool water, and neither one of us dies.

"Well, that's a relief," he says.

"Yeah. But also oddly anticlimactic?"

"Right? Pretty small-time for this place. Wait  …  Oh no. Oh no." He drops to the gravel and bugs his eyes out, coughing and grabbing his throat comically. So I grab my stomach, and then do my poison death, shaking like a fish out of water.

We laugh for five minutes straight, unable to stop ourselves.