I See Fire | Wattys 2021/22 Shortlist | ✔

Chapter Five

Grifo zigzagged across our trail as Jem and I struck out towards the smoke. It would be a full day's hike, so we matched our paces and settled into a comfortable walk. Traveling with Jem was one thing that made me glad I was a head taller than either of my parents. Jem shared my lanky build, but he had inherited his father's height.

I kept my gaze forward, somehow even more aware of him beside me than I had been last time we'd scouted together. His dance request last night had upset my carefully stamped-out feelings, and I couldn't help but resent him for it. If there was one blessing in all this, it was the fact that we'd gotten past the moony-eyed teenage romance stage when we'd last dated properly, leaving the comfort of a long-term relationship in its stead.

Being with Jem was like slipping into a jacket worn to a perfect fit by years of familiarity. We had fought and made up time and time over; we knew how to talk and how to forgive. We knew each other's quirks and patterns inside out. He knew exactly how long I could go without food before I got cranky; I knew exactly how hot he liked his soup or tea. I knew he had a secret, irrational fear of ladybugs—he said they bit him—and he knew just how bad a shot I was with a bow and arrow. It was why I only ever hunted with a knife, trap, or sling.

We balanced each other. I acted fast; he thought things out. I could talk with Emma when she was moody or upset. He could do the same with anyone when I was too angry to do anything but keep my mouth shut. He could cook; I could trap. I could sew; he could scout. Technically we both had all those skills, but we'd taken to dividing duties according to our strengths after so many years of working as a team.

We stopped for lunch when our stomachs told us it was lunchtime. Jem had the food halfway out when Grifo's tail started wagging. Jem rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. Neither of us had noticed.

"You can come out now," I said.

There was silence from the desert. I whacked Grifo's rear end, and he zoomed around a clump of brush. Emma squealed as she was ejected. Grifo grabbed her hat from the ground and held it, wagging, until she took it back from him.

"Do Rodolfo and Elías know you're here?" I said.

Her jaw jutted. "I left them a note. And I brought my own food."

"Emma, this isn't just a scouting trip. You should have stayed in the village."

"It was Fuego, right? That smoke?"

Jem's eyes met mine. We didn't know how much Emma had seen, and if she'd been following us undetected since the village, we didn't know how much she had heard, either.

"Look," I said. "This is going to be riskier than most of our scouting trips, and it'll fall on our heads if something happens to you. Take Grifo and go back to the village."

She sat down and crossed her arms. "I'm not a kid anymore."

"You're fourteen."

"Fifteen." She yanked on the string at her throat. Her Grillo Negro pendant clacked against the golden, turquoise-studded one she had been wearing when Elías found her as a baby. "And you don't want to send me alone with Grifo. There are coywolves around."

"I didn't see any tracks," said Jem.

Emma pointed east. "They're over that way, but they come here if they smell something. It's a full pack. Eight of them, and pups."

Jem looked skeptical. If there were ever coywolf dens around the village, he found them.

"That's why you never catch antelope here," said Emma. She dropped her pendants back under her jacket. "They're too scared. So, are you letting me come?"