Siena (Forestfolk, Book 1)

Chapter 6b

Foresthome extended farther out than I had realized. No two cabins were alike, and there were even lean-tos and tents. It consisted of a ragtag assortment of homes, storage areas, and workspaces. They explained to me how everyone contributed for the good of the community, helping where help was needed, using whatever skills they could offer.

"I help chop vegetables for the meals," Nirrin announced proudly. "And Remi—" She stopped herself and clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oops, I almost goofed again." She giggled.

"Thank you, Nirrin." Remi smiled. "I bring home meat for the meals."

"He's, like, the best hunter!" Nirrin bragged. "He won't teach me how to use a bow and arrow though."

"You're too young. If Bren gets an arrow in her butt, she'll be coming after me. You know that, right?"

Nirrin giggled again and skipped ahead.

"You're awfully quiet," he said, watching me.

"Just taking it all in," I replied.

"I love it here. I'm glad you found us."

"Technically, you found me."

He chuckled and nodded.

"Remi, Bren knew I fell from a tree. How did she know that? Did you tell her?"

"Mm-hmm, she takes care of people. I told her so she'd know what she was dealing with."

"So . . . you saw me fall?"

"Yes. I wish I had been near enough to catch you."

I thought about this. My suspicion that someone had been watching me had not been paranoia after all. "Were you . . . following me?"

He ducked his head. "Yes."

Alarms sounded in my head. Exactly how much did this boy see? How much did he know? "How long were you following me?"

"Come on," he said, changing topics and direction. "I'll show you the lake."

Nirrin noticed we had strayed off the path and followed. "I love the lake," she said. "We can catch fish, swim around, and at night, you can see all the stars!" She opened her arms wide and spun in a circle.

On the compound, seeing stars at night had never been a problem. I'd often lain on the ground gazing up at them, imagining a different life.

As we walked, I strained to see the lake ahead, but all I saw were more trees. Then, almost abruptly, we were in a clearing. The lake stretched out before me, magnificent and glistening in the sun. All I could do was stare, my mouth ajar. I'd never seen a lake before. And this, this was breathtaking.

"It's so beautiful," I whispered. Dense trees lined the opposite side of the lake, separating the water from the sky. The lapping sound along the edge was different from the constant gurgle of a river. It was soothing, a harmonious part of the forest's quiet beauty. "I've never seen anything like it."

We sat on a log, and Nirrin went to find rocks to skip along the water. My eyes never left the water. This lake, this forest, everything felt . . . right to me. As if I belonged right here, as part of this log, part of the earth beneath my feet, even the sky. The trees were an extension of me. I could sing and frolic with the birds.

Remi faded away. Even Nirrin's playful splashes faded away. I couldn't explain it. I was flooded by an immense feeling of . . . oneness.

And then it ended. A woman with a basket of laundry appeared and said, "Don't you kids have chores to do?"