I thought Joe would still be here, she adds.

“Joe was with you?” I ask.

She nods. But something happened just before I got into your world, and I lost hold of him.

“But he’s okay?”

I can’t imagine losing anybody else.

It’s Joe—what could happen to him? But I thought he’d be waiting . . .

She’s still looking around, still trying to get some scent from the air.

“What is it?” I ask. “What are you looking for?”

I’m not sure. It felt like something crossed over with us, but it’s gone now. I can’t sense it anymore.

I swallow nervously, remembering what I’d heard just as we were leaving.

“Did it feel like . . . my brother?” I ask.

No. It was more . . . gentle.

She gives herself a shake, as though to wake herself up.

We should get down from this mesa, she adds, and see if we can find out what happened to Joe. Once we get to the bottom, I can take us more quickly to where you can rest and have a drink.

Why can’t you do it right away? Lizzie asks.

I want to check for signs of Joe on the path first.

She starts to trot down what appears to be a faint trail of some kind, coming back when she realizes that we aren’t keeping up.

Are you all right? she asks. Were either of you injured in that other world?

We shake our heads.

“We’re just little kids,” I say. “Physically, I mean. We can’t go as fast as you in this heat.”

The pail with Geordie’s remains is totally weighing me down as well, but I don’t want to bring that up and have another discussion about how I should just leave it behind.

I’ll take it slower, Honey says.

Lizzie falls in behind her and I take up the rear, switching the pail’s weight from one hand to the other. It’s so dry and hot here. I was already tired from all we had to go through with Del, and I’m thirsty now, as well. Lizzie must be, too. That makes me worry about how she’ll even be able to take a drink.

I’ve been staring at my feet, being careful of where I step. Looking up, I see that I’ve fallen behind, so I try to pick up my pace. That’s when I trip and lose my balance. I try to hold on to the pail, but it falls from my hand and goes tumbling down the steep slope, clattering and banging against the red rock, spraying the debris that was all that was left of Geordie in its wake.

I scrape my knee, but manage to grab on to a rock and not follow the pail down the slope. I watch it go until it finally hits the ground far below. My vision blurs with tears.