The fire was small, and by dawn they were both shivering. Mara warmed a pot of fir needle tea. They ate smoked bear in silence, ripping the tough meat, picking the tendons from their fuzzy teeth. There was mist on the river, and the sky was broad and white.

When they had eaten, they walked, scrambling along the bank as the sun rose high. Mara’s muscles felt like loose string. Her feet swollen and raw, like they’d been soaked in acid. She took her mind from her body, removed the burden of choice, and watched her legs take one impossible step after another.

At midday they stopped to rest. It was a false rest, a rest that offered no respite, just left them to linger in the same pulsing exhaustion. Mara lay on her back, and she wasn’t sure how she would roll to her side, let alone sit up again. Let alone stand.

Ashley lay on the dirt beside her. She’d pulled her hair over her face like a curtain, blocking the sun, blocking everything. Her hair was snarled in thick knots.

“If we don’t find him . . .” said Mara.

“Yeah?”

But there was no end to the sentence. If they didn’t find Bullfrog, they would continue on without him. It seemed horrible to say this and horrible not to.

Mara was tired of waiting for the worst, tired of pretending the worst wouldn’t happen. Maybe they’d never see Bullfrog again. Maybe they’d find him in the river, facedown. His tunic rippling in the current. They would pull him ashore, and bury him, and then they would keep walking.

No, they couldn’t bury him. They were too weak. They would take his belongings and cover him with leaves.

“We’ll find him,” said Ashley. “He knows where we are, and he won’t get hurt. He knows how to walk in the woods.”

“Nobody knows how to walk in the woods,” Mara said. “Not like this. This isn’t normal walking.”

“It basically is,” Ashley said. And then she said, “Mara?”

“What?”

But she didn’t answer.

28

Mara,” said Ashley.

“Yes?”

“Do you want to give up?”

“Do you?”

“It seems so easy to just . . . you know. Not get up again.”

“Don’t think about it. Just rest for now.”

“What if we don’t find him?” said Ashley.

“You’re the one who said we would.”

“But what if?”

“Then we’ll keep going,” said Mara. “We have food. We’ll get ourselves out, you and me, and then we’ll send other people to look for him.”

“Mara.”

“Just rest.”

Mara wondered if they should go back to their old camp. Maybe they shouldn’t have burned the shelter. Maybe they needed it more than Kyle did. They could have dragged his body out.

They walked again, endless. The river flattened, and the banks grew wider. The current ran south. One of Mara’s sandals broke, and she carried it in her hand, limping. The forest was mostly birch now, leaves flickering in the breeze.