Xander let out a breath. "No, I'm sorry. It's just stressful."

I nodded. "I know. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. We're in this together. Whatever I have—"

"—you have half." I finished.

Xander nodded, glancing around again as several families walked in the front door and over to the food line. "So with that in mind, we have six hundred seventy-six dollars and that's including the money Kristi's lending us."

I did the math. "Where'd the extra twenty-six come from?

Xander looked down. "I had it under the floorboard from years ago. I found it in a wallet in the ranger station. I don't know who it belonged—"

"Okay," I interrupted, knowing Xander felt badly for stealing from the people who turned out to be his friends. "So realistically, what's the bare minimum we need before we can safely leave? I don't want to stay here a second longer than we have to."

"Yeah, I know. Let's try to get two thousand. Hell, let's try to get every cent we can. But that's the minimum. With that, we have at least a month. We just need one of us to score a job. Even if it's Eden."

I shook my head. "No, not Eden. I want to navigate things before I send her out anywhere by herself."

Xander took a drink of his coffee. "You can't keep her locked up somewhere in the outside world like she's been locked up in here."

I let out a big breath. "That's not what I mean. I just . . . I need to protect her."

"We might all need protection, brother, in ways we can't even comprehend yet. How about we all take turns on that front?"

I nodded, considering the truth in his words. "Deal."

Xander nodded back. "Okay, so take money whenever, however you can."

I nodded. "Clothes?"

"I have some for you and me."

I stopped with my coffee cup halfway to my lips. "How?"

"I was supposed to burn the clothes from some people who've joined us over the years. I took them and put them under the floorboards." He looked down ashamed.

"For the love of the gods." I laughed. "You have a major problem."

Xander glared at me.

"You're like a squirrel," I said.

"Yeah, damn lucky for you."

I chuckled. It felt so good to laugh a little. It gave me some hope, and made me feel like my old self for a few minutes. Plus, I was on such a high from my night with Eden. Life seemed full of promise, despite my aching legs. I'd taken my punishment like a man and hopefully Hector was done with me. Maybe I was overconfident because of what we'd just gotten away with, but I felt it in my bones this was going to work. I'd sit on a jagged metal mat again if I had to, but by gods, this was going to work.

"What about clothes for Eden?"

"Kristi's going to bring in something of hers for Eden to borrow."

I chewed and swallowed. "We couldn't do any of this without Kristi. Talk about still owing someone in Elysium—"

"Kristi doesn't believe in Elysium."

I smirked. "Good for us." I went serious. "Seriously, though, will you tell her how much we appreciate this?"

"I do. All the time. You can tell her yourself soon enough."

I nodded. "So the only thing we really need is cash."

"Yes. I'll work out the details with Kristi once we're close to having what we'll need."

I nodded and we both ate in silence for a minute. "Hey, Xander. When I was in the cell and Mother Willa came in to tend to me, she said some weird stuff."

Xander rolled his eyes. "She's crazy and senile, Calder. I wouldn't waste too much time trying to interpret her ramblings." He glanced up as the door opened. "Your dad's on his way over here."

I looked back to see my dad walking quickly toward the table where I was sitting with Xander.

"Calder, Maya's had some sort of seizure. She's in the sick tent."

My heart dropped and I stood up quickly, leaving my dishes on the table and following him out the front of the hall. Xander was close behind me.

When we entered the small room, Maya was lying on one of the cots under a heavy blanket. I moved to her side and knelt down on the floor, taking her clammy hand in mine, and moving her bangs out of her eyes. "Maya, I'm here. How are you?" I asked gently.

Her eyes moved to me, but they moved slowly and alarm filled me to see how sick she was. I looked back at my dad and mom, standing at the end of the bed, Mom wringing a handkerchief in her hands.

"How long has she been like this?"

"She seemed to be doing well this morning, just the same cough," my dad said. "She had a seizure . . . and then—"

"Mom, go get Mother Willa," I interrupted.

"Mother Willa? I don't think Maya's in pain."

"Just go get her!" I raised my voice, then closed my eyes momentarily at the look of pain that crossed my mom's features. "Please. Maybe she can do something . . . anything."

My mom nodded, but it was Dad who left the room to go get Mother Willa.

Fifteen minutes later, Mother Willa entered the small room where we all waited; I was still holding Maya's hand. She moved to the bedside and stood there, simply looking down at Maya, sadness on her face.

"This child was never long for this world," she finally said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. "We don't need your predictions; we need your help. What can you do for her?"

Mother Willa met my eyes. "There's nothing I can do for her, boy. Her heart is weak. It always has been. You're lucky you've had her for as long as you have."

I groaned. I felt stunned and helpless. How had this come on so suddenly? Was I not paying enough attention? Was I too caught up in my own world, focused on my own needs and desires, every waking thought on Eden?

"Move aside," Mother Willa said. "I can at least make the child more comfortable."

"She's not a child. Are you in pain, Maya?" I asked, my voice sounding extra gritty. I cleared my throat.

Maya's eyes met mine and she shook her head, no. "I just feel sleepy," she said, blinking her eyes in an effort to keep them open.

Mother Willa put her hand on her own chest and looked up as she inhaled a breath. Then she put her hand on Maya's chest. "Not enough air," she finally said. "Because of the heart. She will simply fall asleep."

I relaxed a little. "She just needs to sleep and she'll be better?"

Mother Willa shook her head, sadness in her expression. That sadness enraged me and made me feel even more desperate. I pulled her arm gently and she followed me a little way from Maya's bed, as my parents took my place at Maya's bedside.

"Tell me what's going on with Maya if you know."

"It's like I said. Her heart is weak. It's failing. Soon it won't be able to provide her with enough oxygen and she'll fall asleep. She won't wake up."

"No," I shook my head, shaking off the very idea. "No. You're not right. How would you know that anyway? Just from looking at her?"

"Aye. I see it. When things are imminent, they grow very clear." She put her hand on my arm. "I'm sorry. I see your love for her, too. It's like a brightly colored butterfly."

I studied her ancient face, those ageless eyes, not knowing what to think, and then pulled loose from her hold and walked back to Maya to sit on the other side of her bed.

I clasped her hand in mine and sat with her as Mom and Dad prayed. As I listened to the words from Hector's Holy Book, the room seemed to sway and blur all around me. When I blinked my eyes, I realized it was because I was crying. I sat up straight and looked out the window. I wasn't going to cry. Maya was still here, her warm hand holding my own and a small, serene smile on her face.

As I stared at her, she opened her eyes and looked right at me, and then just over my shoulder. She smiled just a little bit bigger. "Oh, Calder, it's so beautiful, so simple," she whispered.

I furrowed my brow, not understanding what she meant. She met my eyes again and her hand squeezed mine so gently, three times. I. Love. You. I squeezed her hand back and her smile grew bigger. "I know," she whispered. And then she closed her eyes, a small puff of air escaping her mouth, her hand slipping from my own.

"Maya?" I choked, putting both hands on her shoulders and shaking her just a little. She remained unmoving, her eyes closed, the small smile still on her lips. My mom began to cry and my dad bowed his head. I looked up and saw Mother Willa standing quietly in the corner, her eyes downcast as her lips moved silently in some kind of prayer.

My dad picked up Maya's wrist and put his finger to her pulse and we all watched as pain moved across his face. After a minute, he laid her arm down gently. "She's gone," he said very quietly.

I stood up quickly, the chair beneath me scraping against the floor. I felt hot, short of breath, like all the light in the room was suddenly too bright, piercing. I needed to get out of there, from Maya's still body and the seemingly tangible feeling of loss all around me.

I stumbled toward the door as Mother Willa reached out her arm and clutched mine. "This is not your fault," she said.

I looked at her, feeling wild, like I was reeling, like my eyes would bug right out of my head at any second. "Whose fault is it then?" I asked, too loudly.

"There is no blame here."

"Brother . . ." Xander said, stepping forward from beside the doorway where he'd been standing, offering support with his presence.

I looked away from him, pulled free of Mother Willa and stalked out the door, my feet leading the way, until I found myself down at my and Eden's spring. I stood there looking around dazedly at the place that had only ever brought me happiness and joy. In that moment, I needed to be there. Grief enveloped me. How would I go on without Maya? I loved her so deeply. I had never been apart from her for one day my whole life. I fell down on my knees on the grass and put my head in my hands and sobbed, letting the tears fall for my big sister.

**********

Maya's body was laid to rest in Acadia's burial ground, a quarter mile or so to the west of the river. The ground was hard and rocky, and it took my dad and me half a day to dig Maya's grave as Mom and several other women anointed her body with oils and dressed her for burial.

Hector led the funeral procession through desert wildflowers to her grave. The rest of our family came to pray for Maya's safe journey to the afterlife. Eden stood to Hector's side, a look of utter sorrow on her face. I glanced at her once, but my longing for her was too much, and I couldn't look back again. I needed her so desperately that even looking at her was too painful of a reminder of what I couldn't have when I needed it the most: Eden's loving arms around me, her warmth, her comfort. I saw she was trying to catch my eye, and I was sure she was confused by my lack of attention, but I had to remain stoic or I would crack. It was as simple as that.

I was even more desperate to leave Acadia now. There was nothing for me here. My mom and dad wouldn't understand, but I had to live my own life. And they had each other. They had the life they'd chosen. They had Elysium.

As Maya's funeral procession made its way back to the main dining hall where all the workers, Maya's family, would gather over food and drink, I saw Hector lead Eden away, back to the main lodge. The other council members, only two were there, followed behind them. I saw Eden glance back several times out of my peripheral vision, but I didn't look her way. I couldn't.

As I sat in the corner of the dining hall, watching the gathering go on around me, I talked to my sister in my mind. Maya, I don't know how this all works, but if you're able, help us . . . help us get out of here safely.

If Maya heard me, she gave no indication. I felt utterly alone despite being surrounded by people I considered family.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Eden

I felt like my heart had shattered into a million jagged pieces. I couldn't go to Calder, I couldn't offer comfort, I couldn't hold him or take away any of his sadness. And I grieved for the girl I'd never know, the girl who had such a large piece of Calder's heart. I saw the stark misery written all over his face, a look of sheer devastation. Yet he wouldn't look at me. I didn't want to be selfish; this wasn't about me. But I didn't understand why Calder avoided my eyes when I attempted to get him to look at me. I was hurt and confused and I felt completely helpless.

I thought about writing a note and leaving it in the bushes in front of the main lodge for Xander, but I knew he wouldn't come looking for it and it would sit there, possibly creating the risk of being found by someone else. And so I wandered through the days—existing as best as I could—praying for the hours to pass by more quickly, to bring me closer to the day when I would hear that bird call outside my window.

Every morning, I had a moment of peace before the hole inside would start throbbing and I would remember even though Calder was close, he was so very far away.

Hailey hadn't spoken to me since our conversation about me being in love with Calder. It sat heavy in my heart; I had lost her, too. Despite what she believed, I loved her. Not quite like a mother, but like an older sister, or an aunt, and her rejection stung.

Three weeks after Maya's burial, Hector called me down to his office, and I knocked quietly.

"Come in," he called in his deep voice, and I entered the room.

Hector motioned me to a chair in front of his desk. I sat down and crossed my legs at the ankles, my hands resting in my lap. I couldn't help but notice Hector looked more unkempt than I'd ever seen him look before. Hector had always been meticulous in his grooming. But today his hair was uncombed, his shirt slightly untucked, and there was a small piece of food at the corner of his mouth.