We rest at noon. Syndel sits on a large rock, eating bread and dried meat. Neither of us has said much since the incident with the deer. I think back to what she said about trying to be less negative. I didn't realize there was another way to feel. My circumstances don't warrant much optimism. Yet, since meeting Syndel, I've been . . . happier. That must be a good start.

Syndel suddenly rises to her feet, staring at something through the trees. Though I see and hear nothing, I'm immediately alert. “What is it?” I ask.

She holds up a hand, signaling for me to wait. “There's something out there, about a half-mile away.”

“Is it dangerous?” I imagine the worst.

She shakes her head. “I don't think so. It's small and old. Not . . . human.” Her head moves slowly as if following it with her eyes instead of her mind. “It's gone now. I'm not sure what it was.” She bites her lip, looking worried even though she said it wasn't dangerous. “I think it was watching us.”

I don't like it. I must be more vigilant in the future.

Both of us are silent again as we continue onward. I assume she is doing the same thing I am; waiting to see if the thing will return.

It happens about an hour later. Syndel stops on the path. “It's back,” she says.

I'm prepared to defend us both if necessary. “Where?”

She points to a section of trees to our left. “A hundred yards.”

I start to move in that direction, but Syndel grabs my arm. “Wait. I'm going to try talking to it.”

I frown. “You can do that?”

Nodding, she shuts her eyes. Her lips move, though no sound comes out. I assume communicating with her mind is just another of her abilities as a Sikari. She jerks slightly and opens her eyes. “I asked if it's an animal from the forest or mountains. It laughed and then fled.”

“You should have let me go after it,” I mutter, glaring at the trees.

“And leave me alone?” she asks. “What if that's what it wanted?”

I see her point. “Do you think it will come back?”

She nods.

***

As the day ends we arrive at the eastern edge of the forest. The mountains are in full view. We'll continue on to the northern pass in the morning. I construct another shelter for Syndel.

“Thank you,” she says.

“You're welcome,” I say, settling myself beside a group of sap-pines a fair distance from the shelter; close enough to protect her from harm, but far enough that I won't be the cause. I don't plan to sleep tonight. Like food, sleep is not necessary for me. I do it out of habit. Not anymore.

My eyes move constantly, my ears are tuned to the slightest sound. Nothing will get by me.

Hours pass with nothing to show but a cool breeze and mosquitoes. They don't care if I have a soul or not. Just as long as I have blood for them to siphon.

“Cress!”

I'm on my feet and at the opening of the shelter in seconds. “Is the thing approaching?”

“It was here,” she says.

I look around, unable to believe it could have come without alerting me. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Syndel says, crawling out. “I didn't notice until it was running away.”

“Did it hurt you?”

She shakes her head. “But I felt something else this time. Whatever this thing is, I didn't sense a soul, but I'm certain it's not a...” Her eyes meet mine before darting to the ground. “It spoke to me as it fled. He said the journey for me and my Soulless has just begun.”

My jaw clenches. What is going on?

Syndel sighs, moving her hand to her chest. She lets out a gasp, her hand searching for something. “It's gone! My necklace.” She darts back inside the shelter and then out again, her eyes scanning the ground.

“What necklace?” I ask.

“It was my mother's. The only thing of hers I had left.” Her eyes widen and her aura dims. “The creature must have taken it. That's what it wanted all along.”

“But why?” I ask.

“I don't know,” Syndel says, wiping at the tears sliding down her cheeks. “It was a pendant of amber stone with three small red jewels. Not worth much, other than sentimental value.”

I raise my hand to touch her shoulder, wanting to offer comfort, but my arm falls back to my side. “I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault,” she says. She is silent for a moment. “Cress, what if the creature knows something about my mother or the Sikari and that's why it took the necklace?”

The necklace is not my main concern. I want to know how the creature was able to get past me without me noticing. If it had meant her harm . . .

“If you want to get your necklace back, I'll help you,” I say.

She seems torn. “The Noble-lords will be on our heels if we stay in the forest. I can't risk our safety for a piece of jewelry.”

“But it's important to you,” I say. “And you're important to me.” The words are out and can't be taken back. She now has a small glimpse of my feelings for her and I'm terrified of how she'll respond. Her head is bowed, but I can see a smile pull at her lips.

“I feel the same about you,” she says, her fingers playing with a loose string on the end of her tunic. “Which is why we have to move on.”

If I possessed an aura it would be shining like the sun. I'm important to her. This could mean many things. For now, just knowing is enough. “We'll make for the mountain pass at dawn as planned.”

Syndel returns to the shelter to try to get a few more hours of sleep. Getting to my feet, I roam around the area, half wishing the unknown creature would return so I might ask questions in my own way. I glance around the trees until I pick out the tallest. In seconds, I'm at the base. I scale the trunk, using knots and cracks in the rough bark as hand and footholds. I stop at the highest branches that are able to support my weight.

Settling myself in a relatively comfortable position, I gaze back at the large expanse of trees we came from. Not only is the creature in there somewhere, but the Noble-lords will soon come through as well. How did they know where to look for Syndel? She could have gone anywhere after her escape, yet the Noble-lords are headed straight for her. Someone must have betrayed her. Who else would know her secret? Did someone discover her whereabouts before I found her in the meadow? An idea comes to me. The creature. Is it in league with the Noble-lords?

I look down through the crisscross of branches below, seeing Syndel's aura through the shelter. It doesn't seem to glow as brightly as when I first saw her. The distress of losing her mother's necklace has had an effect, or perhaps my sensitive eyes have adjusted to it. Its warmth, however, hasn't changed.

The veil of night begins to recede; I'm still in the tree. I study the area that lies ahead. I can see where the mountain pass begins. Small doubts have crept into my head. The route we take may not lead us to safety.

I blink quickly, squinting at the new light. I should retreat to the protective cover of the trees, but I don't. The last time I watched the sun rise must have been before I became a Soulless. Bracing myself, I wait for it to come.

The first rays light the sky on fire. They touch my face, burning my eyes and skin. It hurts, but I remain motionless. Red splotches dance in front of my eyes. I allow my eyelids to fall shut and I bow my head. Something about the heat feels different. My head is light, almost free from worry. I suddenly pitch forward and tumble from my perch. My body crashes through numerous leafy boughs and then lands with a thud.

The impact hasn't injured me, though the breath has been knocked from my lungs. I let out a groan, looking at the broken limbs above me. Why had I fallen? Too much sunlight? Dizziness? No, it was something I felt inside. It has a name and I almost didn't recognize it. It's a contradiction to everything I've known and believed. Yet I've felt it before. Since Syndel came. Rubbing my eyes to chase away the lingering sting from the sunlight, I let out a long sigh.

Hope.

It has no place in this cursed life of mine.

I hear Syndel stir and give a sleepy yawn. Lifting myself off the ground, I dart back to my original location near the sap-pines and wait for Syndel to emerge. When she does—her hair flattened on one side and her clothes crinkled—she looks around expectantly, not once looking in my direction. I scowl for no reason except I'm obviously not the first thing on her mind.

Getting to my feet, I take a few steps forward. Syndel finally glances at me and gives a smile that seems forced. Whatever is on her mind, I don't think she's planning to share it with me. I'm annoyed, but I'm also a master at hiding my feelings, even from a Sikari.

“Did you get some more sleep?” I ask as I unload another bundle of food and hand it to her.

“A little,” she says, breaking her piece of bread in half. “What about you?”

I haven't told her that I'm no longer sleeping at all. “Same as usual,” I say.

We're silent as she eats her breakfast, giving me time to dwell on whatever it is she might be hiding. Just hours ago she said I'm important to her, now it's as if she doesn't trust me enough to share what's on her mind. I nearly laugh at the stupidity of my thoughts. What have I done to earn her trust? She learned my secret, but not because I was willing to tell her. I haven't said a word about my nightmares. And I don't have the courage to tell her the tender feelings I hold deep inside. If I want her to trust me, I have to take the first step. “I watched the sunrise this morning.”

Her eyes widen as they focus on me. “You did? Didn't it hurt?”

I nod. “I thought my eyes would melt out of their sockets. Yet, I felt peaceful and,” my cheeks become warmer than I'm used to, “hopeful. Then I fell out of the tree.”

She nearly chokes on her mouthful of bread. “I thought I heard a crash. Are you injured?”

I smile. “No, but I think I left an indentation in the dirt where I landed.” I point to the area of broken branches and crushed leaves. She laughs. I join in, waiting eagerly for her to be the next to share something. She resumes eating, saying nothing else.

I have an urge to pound another crater into the earth.