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A few days later, the sun was bright, the sky clear, and Rue was determined to catch a fish for today’s meals. The lake had been choppy again last night, which meant she might find some treasures washed up on the island, and now that the waves were calm, the fish would return to the shallows.
She slung her net over her shoulder, collected from the haven last night and hidden a ten-minute walk from the burrow. She didn’t want to waste any time today, since she couldn’t guarantee the net would snare anything, and this way she could head straight to the shore. She still carried her bow, just in case she saw anything easy to catch, but she doubted she would need it today.
She took the last few steps through the undergrowth and out onto the smooth, fist-sized pebbles of the beach. As expected, the rocks were littered with bits of detritus leftover from the stormy conditions, and Rue gave them a cursory glance as she made her way to a mostly still pool to deploy her net.
Once the net was in place, she began picking over the debris. There were a number of tools, not that she really knew what they were supposed to be used for or who had crafted them, but she gathered them nonetheless, tucking them into her bag to examine and puzzle over later.
Something shiny caught her eye, and she hurried toward it, digging in the sand to reveal something smooth and silvery. Occasionally she’d find these metal bits, shining like fish scales in the ground, but this one was different. It was small, no bigger than a thumbnail, and seemed to be two flat discs held together by a metal pin and coil.
But most startling of all, it was engraved with a symbol that matched the tiny pendant on her bracelet, a symbol that looked a lot like a bee in flight.
She held up her wrist, looking back and forth between the bee-shaped symbol on the metal piece and the same symbol carved into a piece of bone, strung onto her bracelet. Mother said it had been around Rue’s neck when she’d rescued her, and as she’d grown, Rue had transformed the tiny necklace into a bracelet. While once Mother had even shown Rue the clothes baby Rue had worn, the pendant was all she’d allowed Rue to keep over the years—the only hint of the life she’d had before.
Until now. Now, with a shining silver pendant from the beach. But why were the discs stuck together like that?
Rue pushed her fingernail in the crack between the discs, forcing them apart. Drops of salty lake water dripped out as the pendant opened like a flower, revealing colorful bits of art that looked...
Like Rue?
She gasped and pulled the colored pictures closer to her, studying these creatures who were almost hairless like her, who shared the delicate bone structure and slim frames.
Could this be who was across the water? And if so, did that mean she belonged... there?
Rue closed the leaves of the pendant with a snap, tucking it into a smaller pocket of her reed bag. If the waves had washed this little piece of another world ashore, what else might be here for her to discover?
Her heart fluttered like hummingbird wings, and she practically floated across the ground, head ducked as she searched for any other hints of this other life, this other place with people like her. Really like her, not just the same species.
A scuffing and clicking of rocks on rocks rang across the shore. She snapped her head up, but she was only fast enough to see the branches of the low blackberry bushes, not yet in bloom, shiver.
Eyes locked on the waving bushes, Rue crouched to place her pickings back on the beach, as silently as possible, then stood and pulled her bow from over her shoulder. Just as silently, she withdrew an arrow from her quiver, nocked it, and approached slowly. She kept the arrow pointed in front of her, ready to protect her at a moment’s notice. It wouldn’t be the first time something dangerous had washed ashore, and she wasn’t about to take any chances.
She peered through the gaps in the branches, but it was hard to make out exactly what was hidden within. Something moving, something big, red and white and unnatural to Rue’s woods.
A twig snapped under her next step, and whatever was in the bushes froze for a moment. The forest, the shore, all fell still. Rue held her breath, pulling the bowstring taut.
Whatever it was rushed out of its hiding place, pummeling into her. The arrow flew wild, launching into the air with the twang of the string and a whoosh against the air, and then Rue was pinned to the stones of the beach.
By a man. Like the fisherman. Like how many others who had washed up here over the years. For once, she had found him before the family. She might be able to save him.
Her heart somersaulted. Unless he killed her first.
He released a jumbled string of words she couldn’t understand, his face earnest. She held her breath, pulling at her wrists, trying to free herself from his pin.
But he was young and strong, much stronger than she was. His face was pale and unlined from age or sun, his hair shorn close to his head and across the bottom of his face. Despite the bruises and cuts from his wreck and the crazed look in his eye, she still couldn’t shake him.
“Let me go,” Rue said, her voice low. “You have to leave!”
The man stared at her and blinked, then jumped back as if Rue had turned into a snake and bitten him. He said something else she couldn’t understand, his voice confused and strained. She climbed to her feet cautiously, picking up her bow and scattered arrows without taking her eyes from him. She tried nodding her head toward the lake, as if he’d jump in and swim the enormous distance to some other land, but he simply continued staring at her.
Rue tried again. “If you don’t leave, my family is going to find you. You don’t want them to find you.”
He said something else, and she grunted in frustration, kicking a rock toward the waves. She danced in place for a moment. What more could she do? He obviously couldn’t understand her, and she couldn’t understand him.
So how could she convince him to leave? At least the others she’d managed to save over the years had found the talking boxes or rafts and left quickly.
This man had to be stupid.
She huffed in irritation, coming to the only decision she could think of. She grabbed his wrist, flinching at first when he tried to pull away, but it was this or another meal of a fisherman for the family. If he wouldn’t take a hint and leave, she’d have to hide him. And there was only one place for that.
She slung her bow across her body and pulled him toward the shore and the rock path to the haven. The waves were calm, and she released his wrist to climb onto the first rock. Then, she turned slightly, holding her hand out toward him. He hesitated, then took it, allowing her to pull him up.
She eyed him again. He was well-fed, athletic-looking. He should be able to follow her.
Rue spun on the balls of her feet and leapt to the next rock, turning again to wave at him to follow. He rose from his crouch, leaping gracefully across the space between the boulders. Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as she thought.
One leap at a time, they made their way toward the caves and then landed easily in the sand. Rue glanced into the cave, then at him, feeling a wave of trepidation at sharing her secret safe house, even to save someone’s life. No one had ever been there but her.
He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to direct him, though he still stood back far enough that she couldn’t grab his wrist again.
That was just fine. She didn’t want to give him the chance to come at her again, either.
A crash sounded far off in the woods, then another, closer. A roar she knew too well as Grun’s. He was hunting, which meant he could show up at any moment.
Rue took a deep breath of the cool, damp air. There was no other choice, then. It was share her haven or watch the stranger die.
She nodded to herself, then turned down the corridor. She walked awkwardly, afraid to keep her back to him for even a few seconds. Her heart pounded in her ribs, hard and fast, like his initial attack had been, and butterflies fluttered in her gut. Every step told her this was a mistake, that she shouldn’t trust him, had no reason to trust him, even as she fought to save his life.
They rounded the final bend, and Rue let the comfortable embrace of her haven engulf her. She turned back to him, watching his face as he took in his new surroundings.
The man stared around the room, a look of wonder and more of that confusion across his face, as clear as her brothers’ anger or Grun’s savage brutality. She followed his gaze from her mushroom crops to her drying herbs and flowers to her firepit and crafts. She had maybe twenty different projects in various stages of completion around the room, some for survival and some for the pure joy of creation, and each one carried her fingerprints. Pride swelled in her chest, and she caught her breath.
She had expected to feel the dread, the fear—not pride—at sharing her world. Not even the family knew this side of her. They would never have allowed it.
The man began walking around the room, touching one piece of work after another, and the pride evaporated as she chased him about, replacing the pieces he picked up and taking delicate items from his hands.
Finally, she threw her arms over her head in frustration and let loose a roar that rivaled Mother’s, only not quite so loud and fearsome.
The man paused in his scouring of the room, turning his eyes back to her questioningly. He said something yet again, but Rue only growled again, slapping the wall next to her. If only she could understand him!
She threw herself down on her nest of grass and began building a fire, busying her hands to distract herself.
The man crouched down on the other side of her firepit, eyes earnest, boring into her. He tapped his chest. “Henry.” Then he gestured toward her.
She glanced down at his hand, then back up at his eyes. They were an intense green that rivaled the brightest summer leaves and filled her with as much warmth as springtime. Those eyes... they weren’t cruel or cold like the family’s. They were deep and intelligent, intense but... caring?
He tapped his chest again. “Henry.” And gestured to her.
Was that what he called himself?
She tapped her own chest hesitantly. “Rue?”
Henry smiled and tapped his chest yet again. “Henry.” He pointed to her. “Rue.” And nodded his head.
Rue found herself smiling back and repeating his gestures. “Rue. Henry.”
Maybe she couldn’t understand everything he said, but at least she knew his name.
