Free Archon by Lana Krumwiede Page A

in his fingertips or his feet, and everything on his left side from his shoulder to his foot was numb. He told himself he just needed some time to get over his last psi episode.
    After fumbling around inside his knapsack, he discovered that the tinderbox was missing. And the water bottles. And the cook pot. How would they get water? Or build a fire? Even if they caught a squirrel, how would they cook it?
    Skies, he was so tired. He couldn’t think of what to do. He needed a rest. Just a little rest while Amma was hunting squirrels.
    He lay down with his pack as a pillow and fell asleep immediately.
    Amma’s voice jolted him awake: “No squirrel yet, but I found wild asparagus and some clover.”
    She stopped when she saw him. “No fire? No water? What happened?”
    “Sorry,” Taemon said, rubbing his eyes. “There’s no tinderbox. I couldn’t find the bottles. And I guess I fell asleep.”
    Amma’s shoulders sagged. “I forgot about the tinderbox. Let me see if there’s something else we can use.” She laid the plants she’d gathered on some clean leaves, then rummaged through the knapsack.
    Taemon tried to rub some feeling into his hands. When he stood up, he lost his balance and had to lean against the nearest tree.
    “What’s wrong?” Amma asked.
    “My leg . . .”
    “Must have been the rock slide. You could’ve twisted your ankle when you slipped.”
    “Maybe I can walk it off.” He took a couple steps forward, then stumbled.
    “Skies, that’s not good.” Amma helped him sit down again. “It’s the same side as your bad arm, isn’t it? It’s getting worse.”
    Taemon shrugged. He’d had the same thought.
    “How are you going to walk?”
    “I can walk. I just need a sturdy stick, something to support myself on that side. I’ll be okay.”
    “All right. Maybe that’ll work.”
    While Amma built the fire, Taemon unpacked the bedroll and separated the layers to make two thin bedrolls. After that, he sat there feeling useless and guilty. He shouldn’t have used psi. The rock slide was his fault. And he’d made himself weaker in the process, which made things harder for Amma.
    He took his scarf out and laid it across his lap. He traced a hand over the nubbly yarn. Green, blue, orange, and brown — there was no pattern to speak of, just jagged patches of color. When Challis had given him the scarf, he’d thought the colors were garish. But now he saw how appropriate they were. Brown like the rocks that jutted out from the mountainside. Green like the pine trees. Orange like the tiny wildflowers that covered the meadow. Blue like the stream. The only color in the scarf that wasn’t in the landscape around them was a thin, continuous line of silver metallic thread that meandered through each of the other colors.
    “Finally!” Amma said as she sat back. She’d gotten a small fire started, Skies only knew how. “We don’t have anything to cook, but at least we won’t freeze.”
    Amma divided up the plants, and Taemon started chewing on an asparagus spear. “Not bad.”
    “Still,” Amma said, “roasted squirrel would have been nice.”
    “I’d rather eat asparagus than squirrel,” Taemon said, hoping to lift the gloom.
    “Oh?” Amma grinned. “Would you rather eat a maggot or an earthworm?”
    Taemon grimaced. “Neither! Don’t tell me that’s dessert.”
    Amma laughed. “No. I mean if you had to. If you were starving and had to choose. Maggot or earthworm?”
    “Earthworm, definitely,” Taemon answered. He thought for a moment. “Would you rather eat a jellyfish or a moth the size of your hand?”
    They played would-you-rather until the daylight faded; then they set up the bedrolls under the shelter of some low-lying pine branches. Just before they went to sleep, Taemon said, “Tomorrow will be better. I’ll find a stick to help me walk. And we’ll find another way to the saddle.”
    “And we’ll catch some squirrels,” Amma added.
    Taemon laughed. “That’s the