We Walk As Wolves

Chapter 27

Cass

Cass held Cedar's hand long after the boy had fallen asleep.

One cot over, Poe did the same with Finch. He was crouched in the cot, gripping Finch's hand so tight his knuckles were white, like he thought as long as he held on, Finch would too. The other boys were sprawled out across the floor, deep breaths and loud snores the only sounds breaking the silence other than the dying fire chewing on the logs in the corner of the hut.

Cass ran his thumb over Cedar's limp fingers, glancing at Finch, then Poe. "He'll be okay."

Poe didn't meet his gaze. "I'm sure that's what they told him the first time."

Cass remembered Dells, the comforting words he'd spewed to Cove even as the boy's life spilled out and drenched his palms. But Cass knew if the captain would have given him the chance, he'd have done the same for Bella. "Sometimes it's the only thing you can do."

Poe's eyes lowered until they found the sword at Cass's feet. "Not the only thing."

"I'll fight for him," Cass said. His words carried a confident edge, but he couldn't look down at the sword. "I'll fight for all of you, and I won't hesitate when the time comes."

Finch had believed him, but when Poe's dark eyes met his all Cass found was doubt. Crippling doubt. With a small frown, Poe squeezed Finch's hand and rose to his feet. "There's nothing more we can do for them tonight. You might as well get some rest. It won't do us any good if you're exhausted."

Cass released the stiff hold he had on Cedar's palm and slid the sword into his hand instead. Again, Poe looked at Cass like he might have to catch the sword before he could drop it on his foot and cut his own heel off.

When Cass gripped the blade tighter, Poe just shook his head and started for the hut's door. Cass followed after him. "I don't know if Dells told you," he began as he led Cass outside, "but there were other Equals before you that tried to take on Wilder."

Cass bristled. "Really?"

"They all failed."

Cass ignored the sharp spike that threatened to crack his chest in two. "Is that why he decided to close the portals to the island?"

He shrugged. "Maybe." Then he lowered his shoulder to look back at Cass. "But I guess this place hasn't given up yet."

His eyes were genuine, but Cass could hear the truth behind his words: I don't see what makes you different from them. Cass didn't blame him. He didn't feel different, and Dells had told him numerous times that he wasn't special.

"Good," Cass tried to keep his voice steady. "Because I'm not giving up on it."

A small smile brushed Poe's lips, but he said nothing. They crossed another bridge, this one made of old wicker baskets, and arrived at the doorstep of another hutch. It was small, thinner than any of the others, but it was in a secluded area of the tree, away from the rest of the village.

Cass welcomed the idea of privacy for one night.

Until he opened the door and found Dells sprawled out on the cot next to his own, rubbing his temples and moaning loudly about the consequences of trusting kindergartners to make a good drink.

Poe reached into his cloak and pulled out a handful of wishbones, still coated in thick meat. "These will last you through the night. Make a wish on each of them, or the rest of the boys will skin you." Then he stepped out of the hutch and shut the door.

Cass rolled the wishbones around in his hands as he walked toward the pair of twin cots, then flicked half of them at Dells. "Might help if you eat something."