Scarecrow

Sera found my notebook beneath her pillow.

She held it up while I was looking for my other boot.

“Is this yours?”

There was no useful answer to that.

She opened it to the page about the western shelter, looked at the corner that had folded beneath her head, and handed it to me.

“I dreamed I was being inspected.”

“Sorry.”

“Very detailed inspection. Apparently my roof drainage was inadequate.”

Risa laughed from the bed.

Luna, who was already dressed, took the notebook and put it on the shelf above the table.

“There,” she said. “Somewhere it can supervise us without being slept on.”

It was Day 471.

The room was beginning to acquire rules that nobody had written down.

Most of them concerned where I put things.

Sera felt no worse after warming the dish.

That was worth writing down.

It wasn’t permission to spend the morning making fire, and she didn’t treat it as one. After her treatment, she sat with Toby and told him how the evening had felt, how she’d slept, and whether her hands had changed.

He listened.

I listened too, instead of answering for something I could see only part of.

Then she asked about going below.

“Not all the way into the recess,” she said before either of us could reply. “The upper shelf. Where the model is.”

Toby looked at the route drawing.

“Today?”

“No. When we’ve made the resting places Lucas keeps thinking about.”

I looked up.

She smiled.

“You’ve been measuring steps with your eyes every time we pass the entrance.”

“I thought I was being quiet about it.”

“You were. That’s why I said thinking instead of talking.”

Risa wanted to come too.

She said it from the window seat, with her ankle supported and her boot beside her rather than on her foot.

Luna looked at the ankle.

Risa looked at Luna.

“Eventually,” she said. “I haven’t forgotten that walking currently requires negotiation.”

We put the visit a few days ahead and left it there until we knew whether those days had been enough.

No date worth proving ourselves against.

Sera drew the resting places. Low seats on the broad shelves, where nobody would have to stop in the middle of the steps.

Risa added a handhold near the turn where the rock stayed damp.

Luna checked that the route would remain clear for somebody coming up while we went down.

I listened to them discuss it and thought about how often I’d believed helping meant doing a thing before anyone could ask.

This was slower.

It also meant I knew what I was building.

That afternoon, I went to the western shelter site with Corr and Holt.

Holt brought a cup.

I looked at it.

“Testing equipment,” he said.

The new steps held. The water had left the path below them, which was exactly why we’d moved the route upward.

We chose the shelter’s position on the broad shelf and checked it against the marks Ossa had made on the map. Wind from one direction. Runoff from another. Enough open ground in front that a person could see somebody approaching without having to lean outside.

I made the supports first.

Corr set the ordinary panels against them while Holt checked the line of the roof from a place where he could see the whole thing.

He found an angle I’d missed.

I changed it.

Then he sat down and drank from his testing equipment while we finished the side facing the weather.

It wasn’t much to look at when we were done.

A roof. Three sides. A raised floor. A low bench wide enough to lie on if somebody needed to.

Space for water and dry supplies, with the food closed away from anything that might decide we’d built a feeding station.

A place to hang a lamp.

Holt put his cup on the shelf and nodded.

“This will do.”

That was more praise than he’d given his chair.

Corr left a route mark where the path turned, then walked far enough away to check whether it was visible coming back.

I stayed beneath the roof.

Rain might still catch somebody out here.

They might still have to wait.

But there was somewhere to wait now.

I leaned against the post for a moment and let myself enjoy that without beginning the next shelter in my head.

Liam was waiting at camp with a question he didn’t want to ask.

He helped us put the tools away. Took Holt’s cup when Holt handed it to him. Returned it to the wrong shelf and got called back.

Then he followed me to the water jars.

“How do you know when to say it?”

“Say what?”

He looked pained.

“Something that makes you an idiot if you’ve misunderstood.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down much.”

“I knew I should have asked someone else.”

I put the jar down.

“Anja?”

He nodded.

“How was supper?”

“Good.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“Yes.”

“What did she say?”

“That she’d noticed, because I’d stopped talking long enough to eat.”

I laughed.

He smiled despite himself.

Then looked serious again.

“I like her.”

“I know.”

“No. I mean I like who I am when I’m sitting there. I don’t have to keep making something happen.”

I thought about the four of us eating in our room.

“That sounds worth telling her.”

He went away looking unconvinced by how little advice I’d managed to provide.

Sera heard the end of it when I came inside.

“He’ll work it out,” she said.

“You sound certain.”

“He’s already asking a different question.”

She sat at the table with a small pile of paper in front of her. The curtain was finished, the latch worked, and she’d begun drawing things that weren’t immediately necessary.

I looked at the page nearest me.

The field from our window. The crooked scarecrow beside the water station. A tiny figure beneath it that was probably Teo.

“You did this?”

She looked at me.

“No. The room draws when we leave it alone.”

I bent closer.

“I didn’t know you liked drawing.”

“I like seeing whether I can.”

“Can I look at the others?”

She hesitated.

Then pushed the pile toward me.

There was a sketch of Luna reading.

Not the face she wore over a map. Her hair loose, one hand resting against her mouth, a small crease between her brows because the book had apparently said something she disagreed with.

Risa at the window, her ankle supported, looking toward the field.

Liam bent over Anja’s old pot.

Me asleep.

I stopped at that one.

Sera watched my face.

“When?”

“Yesterday.”

“I look—”

“Rested,” she said.

I swallowed.

The drawing wasn’t exact in the way my sight could be exact. A line was too dark. The shape of one shoulder had been tried twice.

I liked it more for being something she’d looked at long enough to decide how to put it down.

“May I keep it?”

She smiled.

“Yes.”

I put it on my shelf where I would see it when I reached for the notebook.

On Day 472, Corr brought news from below.

The guide had moved the water model.

Not far. From the broad shelf to a flatter place beside the entrance to the next passage.

Then it had brought a branch and set it across one of the dry strips of stone beside the cups.

Corr had left everything where it was.

“Was the water blocked?” Luna asked.

“No. The branch was beside it. I couldn’t work out what it wanted.”

“Did it try to lead you somewhere?”

“To the passage. Then back to the model.”

Risa leaned forward.

“Which passage?”

Corr showed us.

The one that curved toward the surface watercourse, below the ground we’d been considering for the later stretch of path.

I looked at Luna.

She was already drawing the two routes on the same page.

We didn’t decide the guide was objecting to a road it had never seen planned.

We didn’t know whether it understood the dry strip as a path at all.

But it had put something across a place and then shown Corr somewhere else.

That was enough to make the next visit about looking, not extending anything.

Sera asked for the model dimensions.

I gave them to her.

She drew a simpler piece beside it. A little arrangement of the nearby rock shapes, with the watercourse left open and the surface turn marked where we knew it was.

“Something we can carry to the actual place,” she said.

“If it means something different below,” Risa added, “we’ll have a chance to notice.”

Luna watched them work.

Then she looked at me.

I was smiling.

She understood why without asking.

Nessa inspected the shelter drawing after supper.

She had come to return a piece of cord to Risa and stayed when she saw the roof on the page.

“Where’s the water?”

Sera pointed.

“On that shelf. In a closed vessel.”

“How high?”

I showed her with my hand.

Nessa looked at it.

Then at her crutch.

“How do I hold it while I pour?”

I had put the shelf at a comfortable height for me. The vessel would need both hands to lift when it was full.

Risa pulled the drawing closer.

“We need a smaller cup below it. And something that lets the water out without lifting the whole thing.”

Nessa nodded.

She had asked a question with an answer, and we were finally catching up.

I drew a little outlet at the bottom of the vessel, with a lever a person could work one-handed. Sera changed the shape so it could close firmly without needing a strong grip.

Luna added a place beneath it where a cup could stand without being held.

Nessa watched each part appear.

“That’s better.”

“It is,” I said.

She pointed at the bench next.

“Can you get underneath it?”

“Why?”

“To fetch something if it rolls.”

Holt’s cup shelf was beginning to seem less like the final test of a building than he’d suggested.

We checked that too.

The next morning, I made the changes with Corr.

He tried the outlet while holding the supply frame in one hand. Then with his fingers wrapped in cloth, because Ossa’s hands were still healing and she wasn’t the only person who might need water while hurt.

The first lever was awkward.

The second worked.

We left the small cup where somebody arriving alone could reach it.

On the way back, I thought about Nessa standing at our table, expecting to be included in the people a shelter was for.

I was glad she’d asked.

I wanted the next drawing to remember her before she had to.

The new resting places were ready before we went.

I made them with Corr on Day 473, after the morning’s medical work. One at the upper turn. Another on the broad ledge above the arch.

No hidden room opened. No rock changed beyond the parts I could see and understand.

The guide watched from the lower steps while we checked the second seat.

It approached when we moved back.

Touched the seat.

Then put one limb on the handhold Risa had asked for.

I sat down slowly so it could see what the new shape was for.

The guide remained still for a moment.

Then passed me on the open side and went down toward the arch.

Whether it had understood a chair or simply decided I wasn’t blocking the way, I couldn’t tell.

Either was useful.

We went together on Day 475.

Risa’s ankle had improved enough for the short route, with support and a promise to turn back if it began objecting. Sera had been steady after the small warmth test and the ordinary walks around camp.

Nobody called either of them recovered.

They were well enough for this.

Luna carried the drawing. Corr brought the model. Dot stayed at the entrance with the relay, and a hand went ahead with a lamp.

I went beside Sera on the steps.

Risa followed with Luna.

At the first seat, we stopped before anyone asked.

Sera looked down toward the arch.

“I thought I’d be embarrassed by this.”

“The seat?”

“Needing it.”

I sat beside her, grateful to take the weight off my own leg.

She looked at me.

Then laughed quietly.

“Right. Bad audience.”

“The seat is excellent,” I said.

“I designed it.”

“I know.”

The guide waited at the model.

Both cups still had water. The branch lay where Corr had described it, across a dry strip beside the channel.

The queen’s strand rested against the farther edge of the shelf.

Sera stopped when she saw it.

Not frightened.

Still.

We gave her the moment.

She’d watched recordings while she was ill. Asked about every visit. But a picture of something alive in the dark wasn’t the same as standing close enough to see the light move beneath it.

The strand lifted toward her.

Stopped short of her hand.

Sera opened her palm.

No fire.

The strand remained there, then settled against the stone near her fingers.

She smiled with her whole face.

I had to look away for a moment so I could swallow properly.

Corr put the new model down.

The guide touched one of the rock shapes.

Then another.

It moved around the shelf until the small watercourse lay between itself and the passage entrance, then touched the branch in the older arrangement.

Luna set Sera’s drawing beside the model.

I waited.

The queen’s strand moved across the model, slowly enough that I could follow it.

Along the watercourse.

Around one of the raised shapes.

Stopped at the place where we’d left a gap.

Risa leaned forward without putting weight on her bad ankle.

“Don’t fill that yet,” she said quietly.

I hadn’t been going to.

Then realized my mind had already begun deciding it was an unfinished piece of the model.

I moved my hands away.

The guide went to the passage entrance.

Stopped.

Looked back.

Corr and Luna followed as far as the next bend while the rest of us stayed at the shelf. We could still hear their voices.

A little later, Luna called for me.

Sera nodded when I looked at her.

“Go. I’m sitting.”

Risa stayed beside her.

I followed the lamp.

Beyond the bend, the watercourse narrowed beneath a low overhang. There was a dry ledge along one side, worn smooth in a way the surrounding stone wasn’t.

A Teeming stood at the far end.

Another came behind it carrying a small pale shape beneath its body.

Then another.

The guide raised its limb across our approach.

We stopped.

They crossed the dry ledge one at a time.

Not hurrying. Not turning toward us except for the first, which kept a limb close to the edge until the others had passed.

I watched the small shapes move against the larger bodies.

Young.

The route came up near the surface turn we’d been discussing. Not the section we’d already changed. The next one.

I could see daylight through a narrow opening farther along.

The guide waited until the last carrier was gone.

Then lowered its limb and touched the ledge.

I looked at Luna.

“We’d have put the next support above this.”

“Then we find another place.”

No argument about whether the original line was shorter.

No need to make a threat out of what we’d just been shown.

We went back to the others.

Sera listened with her hand resting on the edge of the model.

Risa asked whether water could cover the dry ledge after rain.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Then don’t assume they’re only using it now.”

Luna drew the passage onto our page, leaving the uncertain parts blank.

I moved the small marker we’d been using for the proposed surface route away from the gap.

Placed it around the outer side of the raised rock instead.

The guide watched.

The queen’s strand touched the gap again.

Then moved toward the new position of our marker.

It rested between the two.

We left both routes clear on the model.

I couldn’t call that a treaty.

I could say we’d shown a different line and hadn’t been stopped from showing it.

We would still have to walk the ground together.

Before we left, Sera put the branch back beside the older model.

Across the dry strip.

Then held one hand above it, palm down, the way we’d learned to stop without striking.

The guide raised its limb.

Sera lowered her hand.

The guide lowered its limb too.

She looked at me.

“I think that was a conversation.”

“I think so.”

Her eyes were bright.

We sat on the broad ledge for a little while before taking the stairs. Risa rested her ankle. Luna checked the drawing. Corr told Dot what we’d seen while the link was clear.

The queen’s strand remained beside the model.

Nothing had to die for us to learn where not to put a road.

At the upper seat, Sera leaned against my shoulder.

Tired now. Ready to be home.

“Was it too much?” I asked.

She considered.

“No. Enough. I don’t want to add anything else to today.”

“We won’t.”

Risa sat on her other side and stretched her leg carefully.

“I’m voting for supper in the room.”

Luna put the drawing away.

“Passed.”

“Don’t we get a vote?” I asked.

“You may agree enthusiastically,” Risa said.

I did.

Then, when they were ready, we went up the last steps together.

Liam and Anja were beside the water jars when we returned.

She was laughing at something he had said. He looked pleased enough that I suspected it hadn’t been one of his usual jokes.

Then she reached up and kissed him.

Briefly.

Quite deliberately.

Liam forgot the vessel he was holding until water began touching his boots.

Anja caught his wrist and tipped it upright.

Sera made a small sound beside me.

I looked at her.

She was smiling.

“Don’t,” I said.

“I wasn’t going to.”

For once, I believed her.

We let them finish having their moment without making it ours.

That night, Sera’s drawings were on the wall.

Not all of them. The ones she’d chosen.

Luna reading. Risa at the window. The field. A rough sketch of the shared water model, with the two clear channels and the place where the strand had rested.

The picture of me asleep stayed on my shelf.

I didn’t want to put it somewhere I would have to explain why I liked it so much.

Sera saw me looking at it and took my hand.

“You don’t have to look useful all the time.”

“I look as though I might be drooling.”

“I left that out. Artistic discretion.”

I laughed, then kissed her.

She stayed close afterward, her head beneath my chin.

I held her while the others brought the bowls to the table.

We ate with our feet tangled beneath it.

Risa’s injured ankle had its own stool and more authority than any of us. Luna kept forgetting and trying to put her foot there until Risa threatened to label it.

Sera told the story of the queen’s strand reaching toward her palm.

I’d been there.

I still liked hearing it from her.

After supper, Luna put our route drawing beside the shelter plan. Two paths instead of one. More ground to inspect, but a reason for the extra turn that we understood now.

Risa reached across and straightened the page.

“There.”

Luna nodded.

Then closed the book over it.

Work finished for tonight.

Later, I lay beside them and listened to the camp grow quiet.

Sera had fallen asleep first, tired by the visit. Risa was turning a small fold of blanket between her fingers. Luna lay with her face toward me, awake but no longer arranging the next day out loud.

I touched her cheek.

She moved closer and kissed me.

Risa put her hand in mine beneath the blanket.

“We should go again,” she said softly. “When I can walk without bringing my own stool.”

“We will.”

Sera stirred against my shoulder.

“All four,” she murmured.

I thought she was still asleep.

Then her fingers tightened around my shirt.

“All four,” I said.

The paths could turn. The work could take longer than I’d planned.

I wasn’t in such a hurry to get somewhere else that I couldn’t feel where I was.

I held their hands and stayed awake a little longer.

Days 471–475. A way through.

Western shelter built. Roof, dry floor, supplies, lamp hook. Holt tested the cup shelf. Approved.

Resting places made on the upper route below. All four visited on Day 475. Risa still protecting the ankle. Sera tired afterward, not unwell. Treatment continues.

Branch across the dry part of the model. Guide showed us the passage. Carriers moving young along the ledge beneath the next proposed surface turn.

Moved our proposed route on the model. Need to check the outer ground before building. Leave their crossing clear.

Sera opened her hand. Queen’s strand stopped beside it.

Liam spilled water. Anja helped him remember the vessel.

Drawings on the wall. Supper in our room. Route book closed afterward.

All four.