15: Keelin
Keelin
Keelin set Deva down. She wobbled, needed support until she found her feet. Keelin leaned her against a tree.
Then she focused.
“Traces,” she said. “Recent.”
Deva’s eyes widened. “Who?”
“Can’t detect lattices.”
“That’s good, right?”
Keelin shrugged.
“So what now?” Deva pushed onto her feet, didn’t stumble.
“We walk.”
“Just that?”
“We stay in one spot, we make ourselves targets. This way.”
Keelin set off, through a thinning of the undergrowth. It could’ve been made by people or by animals, and she became extremely aware that she had no idea what this forest—what this whole island—held.
Deva followed, didn’t complain. Tough kid. Small, treated with contempt by others, yet she stood tall and held her own. She put those armed, trained guards to shame.
The t
