Though she’d been in camp for nearly two weeks, it was still very much a mystery to her. And the only way to unlock a mystery was to start.

Avoiding the gathering in the center and Pine’s intense gaze, Caledonia directed her steps toward the treeless rise along the fourth side of camp. Her body was stronger than it had been, but even so it was challenging to walk at a moderate pace. The last time she’d suffered such an injury—also at Lir’s hands—she’d been alone with Pisces, and while the girl had salvaged a few of the medical essentials from the husk of the Ghost, she’d healed without the benefit of a nanopatch. By comparison, this was practically painless. Still, she needed her body to recover quickly. Every day that passed here was another day between herself and her crew.

The air was brisk and clear, the sun stood boldly in a bright blue sky, and she thought if only she could find the ocean, she wouldn’t feel so trapped. Just as she reached the base of the sloping hill, a figure appeared at the edge of her vision, stalking her every step. Without turning, she knew it was Pine. Even his silhouette had a brooding air about it.

She might not be a prisoner, but neither was she trusted. She ground her teeth and pushed onward, climbing the hill while Pine remained at the edges of her awareness, matching her step for step. It didn’t matter if she picked up her pace or slowed down, Pine stayed level with her. What did he think she was going to do? Run? Light a signal fire for the next passing ship?

Mid-stride, Caledonia pivoted and charted a path across the field directly toward him. If he was going to irritate her, she was going to return the favor.

At her approach, Pine paused. He turned to face her but made no move to meet her halfway. He waited until she came to him.

Caledonia knew it was a power play, and she didn’t care. She closed the distance between them and announced, “If you’re going to follow me, Pine, you might as well be useful.”

Pine remained infuriatingly still. He was as unconcerned with Caledonia as she was concerned with him. He held his arms behind his back, confident and assured, and he took a single step toward her. That step put him closer to her than an arm’s reach. Though not as broad or tall as Sledge, he held himself in a way that bristled with a quiet kind of power.

“I am not interested in being useful to you, Caledonia.”

Caledonia forced herself not to back away, but to tilt her head and look directly into his eyes. “Sledge gave me permission to roam,” she stated.