Page 18 of Entangled

When Sam captured me, he took my knife, the weapons, he rifled through my backpack, but he didn’t empty it, and neither did he empty my pockets, where I’d buried the deadly water hemlock that Beau almost poisoned our dinner with.

Beau.

I wonder if his mistake might get me out of this mess. If he’s still protecting me, even in death. My throat clogs.

It isn’t enough to kill all the hunters... but itisenough to do some serious damage.

For the first time since I was captured, I feel the first stirrings of a plan that might actually work.

For the first time since I learned my brutes were dead, I have the urge to try.

Mateo steps forward from where he was watching us.

“You say you know herbs?” he asks, low and urgent. He gestures at Alastair on the other side of the camp. “Can you help him?”

Alastair is slumped at the base of a massive tree, pale and still as a corpse in all his bandages, except for the tattoos that peek from every exposed swathe of skin. From here, I can’t see if he’s conscious or not.

I wonder if Mateo or Alastair shot at Lucky.

“Or Jorge,” Mateo adds, though it’s almost an afterthought.

Jorge lost an arm, they said. I can hear him, even now, babbling insensibly from Alastair’s side of camp, lost to fever dreams. I don’t know that anything can be done for Jorge.

And what a terrible tragedy that is.

“What herbs do you have?” I ask politely.

“What do you need?” he counters.

At least a dozen reference books spring to mind. They’re all probably moldy and insect ridden now, lost in my old cave.

I start with some basics. “Do you have honey?”

Mateo shakes his head, but one of the other hunters near Alastair says, “I have some. Just for Alastair though.”

“Okay.” I bite my lip, trying to remember my books. “What about cranberries?” That’s a no. “Turmeric?” Also no.

“Amaranth?” I ask, losing hope when I see more head shakes. “Amaranthus is local to the area and grows in wet areas. It’s possible you might find it by a river or creek. You couldn’t miss it; it’s bright pink. Juniper berries would also be very useful.”

I could make a tea, or a salve, depending on what they can find. But then I spot Sam’s face, and the deepening, unhappy lines.

“These are both also very good for cooking,” I say carefully. More feelings overlap the wretched agony inside me—not hiding or muting it... but accenting it. Adding nuance and flavor. Right now, my pain is entangled with reckless abandon.

This feeling tastes like Lucky.

My pulse pounds in my throat. Taking a risk, I murmur, as mildly as I can, “If we’re staying long enough to find them, that is.”

Mateo says “We are” at the same time as Sam says “We’re not.”

That rumbling, tense thundercloud falls over them again. Madison surreptitiously elbows me in the ribs, and the pain makes my vision haze.

I hold my breath, wondering if I’m making a mistake. If these buttons are the wrong ones to push.

The two glare at each other, then Mateo calls over his shoulder. “Ellis, Jack, go look for the amaranth and juniper berries.”

Sam scowls, but only says, “Three days, then we’re gone.” He points at me. “You cook and you help, but then you’re back in your ropes. Watch her, Mateo.”

“We’ll see what happens in three days,presidente,” Mateo says lazily, turning his back on the older man. “We’ll see.”

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