“She’s happy to be here. She’s so happy to see you. She doesn’t even care that they’re going to kill us.”

Jamie stiffened under my arm. “They can’t! Not if Mel’s still alive!”

You’ve upset him, Melanie complained. You didn’t have to say that.

It won’t be any easier for him if he’s unprepared.

“They won’t believe that, Jamie,” I whispered. “They’ll think I’m lying to trick you. They’ll just want to kill me more if you tell them that. Only Seekers lie.”

The word made him shudder.

“But you’re not lying. I know it,” he said after a moment.

I shrugged.

“I won’t let them kill her.”

His voice, though quiet as a breath, was fierce with determination. I was paralyzed at the thought of him becoming more involved with this situation, with me. I thought of the barbarians he lived with. Would his age protect him from them if he tried to protect me? I doubted it. My thoughts scrambled, searching for some way to dissuade him without triggering his stubbornness.

Jamie spoke before I could say anything; he was suddenly calm, as if the answer was plain in front of him. “Jared will think of something. He always does.”

“Jared won’t believe you, either. He’ll be the angriest of them all.”

“Even if he doesn’t believe it, he’ll protect her. Just in case.”

“We’ll see,” I muttered. I’d find the perfect words later—the argument that would not sound like an argument.

Jamie was quiet, thinking. Eventually, his breathing got slower, and his mouth fell open. I waited until I was sure he was deeply under, and then I crawled over him and very carefully shifted him from the floor to the bed. He was heavier than before, but I managed. He didn’t wake.

I put Jared’s pillow back where it belonged, and then stretched out on the mat.

Well, I thought, I just hurled myself out of the frying pan. But I was too tired to care what this would mean tomorrow. Within seconds, I was unconscious.

When I woke, the crevices in the ceiling were bright with echoed sunlight, and someone was whistling.

The whistling stopped.

“Finally,” Jeb muttered when my eyes fluttered.

I rolled onto my side so that I could look at him; as I moved, Jamie’s hand slid from my arm. Sometime in the night he must have reached out to me—well, not to me, to his sister.

Jeb was leaning against the natural rock door frame, his arms folded across his chest. “Morning,” he said. “Get enough sleep?”

I stretched, decided that I felt acceptably rested, and then nodded.

“Oh, don’t give me the silent treatment again,” he complained, scowling.

“Sorry,” I murmured. “I slept well, thank you.”

Jamie stirred at the sound of my voice.

“Wanda?” he asked.