The Knowledge of the Hidden

Chapter 9

I awake far too early, the bright morning light streaming through the thin tarp and leaves as if there is nothing there, and jump slightly as I look around. I don't remember falling asleep, but the last thing I do remember was laying on the stick structure, wrapped in blankets and shifting uncomfortably with my bag as a pillow. No one but Sienna and I were in the tent, and she was perched at the other edge, reading some book. Now, the structure is packed with people.

I am at the very edge, barely an inch away from rolling out onto the grass, and Sienna is beside me, curled in a tight ball and using her arm as a pillow. Beside her, four other girls now sleep, packed together like sardines, leaving Sienna and I with nearly half the structure to ourselves. I instantly feel embarrassed and slide from the shelter, shivering as the cold morning wind hits me. I slept in my clothes and jacket, but the temperature has dropped several degrees overnight.

I quietly slide my bag from the tent, careful not to disturb the others, and rifle through it for something warmer to wear. I find the light jacket and slip it under my heavy coat. It's not enough, but it will have to do.

The camp is dead quiet, and everyone but me appears to still be asleep. I'm used to black-out curtains and blinds, but I suppose mostly everyone here has had some experience sleeping past the morning sunrise. I walk aimlessly around, feeling intensely self-conscious and out of place. Minutes pass, and the sun creeps its way up the horizon, but there is still no sign of movement anywhere.

I wander to the edge of camp, to the river that Josh and I followed getting here. Seeing it brings a stab of loss, as I immediately desire to follow it back and am simultaneously reminded that I never can. Though I know for a fact that things were never good in Eximius, I find myself unable to remember why I left. I think of my family, of my warm bed. Everything had a purpose there, at least. Here, I just feel lost.

I know I should give it time: time to get to know the place and the people, but I have the greatest sense that time won't make me belong. I didn't belong in Eximius, either, but at least there I had running water and internet connection.

I sit down beside the creek facing the camp and hug my legs to my body. After what feels like hours, I see the first signs of movement. A couple people slowly begin to crawl from their tents, dress in plain sight (I turn my head away in surprise) and make their way towards the river. At first I think they are coming toward me, but they turn and go farther upstream. In the group there is an olive skinned boy about my age, a stern-looking woman probably in her late twenties, and an older guy with a curly mustache. They hold several large buckets each. When they get there, the youngest guy begins to dip them each into the river, setting them on the banks.

The oldest guy moves among them, holding his hand over the top of them. The water appears to boil, shaking the buckets and pouring steam from the top. After a moment, the guy moves onto the next and the women moves in, holding her own hand above them. I can't tell what she's doing, but the boiling instantly stops and the steam dissipates.

I watch them in curiosity, bending my neck to get a better look at what they are doing. I imagine that it must be powers of some sort, but even after everything I've seen I have a difficult time bringing my mind to accept that conclusion. I notice more movement in the camp, and see a handful of people moving toward the center canopy. Some are my age, some older, and some younger. I keep an eye on my shelter, watching for Sienna or the others, but so far none of them have moved.

After a several minutes I start to get antsy and decide to go back to the shelter. I'm worried that if I stay away, I'll miss whatever I'm supposed to be doing (which I have no clue what that is) and feel even more stupid than I already do. I get to my shelter just as Sienna emerges, yawning widely like she's barely slept. I glance at the sky. It can't be any earlier than nine or ten.