The daylight woke me up before everyone the next morning and was immediately faced with the very first challenge of the day: freeing myself from captivity.
I cautiously (and painfully) detached my hair from Calix's grip and climbed over the covers, being careful not to step on the feet of any of my companions who covered the floor of our makeshift residence.
Madeline was curled up beside my friend who was sprawled out, flying eagle, one arm having previously been draped over my waist. Calix was snuggled up fetal style in front of my former position, his blanket pulled tightly around him, and I couldn't resist quickly kissing him on the forehead before leaving the tent.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was quite sunny: no remnants of the cloud attack the day before. Misleading, as far as I was concerned. It was a cruel and dangerous world, and yet it lit up every day as though the one before had not happened.
I got a quick drink from one of the canteens and then stored it back away, running a hand tiredly through my hair. I sat down beside the firepit and crossed my legs, grabbing the stick from beside me to move the embers that had been left from the night before.
It reminded me of Christmas back before... everything...
I closed my eyes for a minute and remembered snowy mornings. Remembered days wrapped in blankets around the fireplace. Reading by candlelight; small Christmas gifts. Mother taught me how to knit a sweater for Calix, one year, and Madeline had got me my first crossbow.
I had thanked her shortly thereafter by shooting her favourite doll through the stomach.
Happy memories...
This Christmas would be different, though...
Where would we be for it? In the woods? Alone?
Dead?
My joyful thoughts were interrupted by Madeline stepping out of the tent, Calix in her arms. I ignored her presence as she set him down and prepared a small breakfast for him, and then she sat down beside me.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
"They're not worth that much," I responded dejectedly.
"Half a penny?"
"Maybe an eighth of one," I told her.
"Eighth of what?" Echo interrupted, stepping out of the tent and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"A penny," Madeline informed her. "Don't worry about it."
Echo shrugged and, in silence, started preparing her own breakfast of dried fruit and a slice of bread.
"I'll go hunting today," I said quietly, and then I turned to Calix. "Calix? Want to go swimming?"
**********
We splashed around on the beach for several hours, drenching each other from head to toe. It was rather nice to take a break. For a few hours, at least, we were not in the middle of nowhere. We were not parentless. We were not half-broken. We were not lost: physically or emotionally.
We weren't right, but we were still okay.
Just for a few hours.
We stopped for lunch when the sun was quite high in the sky, something Calix, the two-year-old he was, complained about to no end. He whined from the moment I pulled him out of the surf to very second his jerky was gone and his slice of bread only crumbs. Then we headed back out to play in the waves, and he was happy again, grabbing his teddy bear as he fled once more to the salty waves under Madeline's careful guard.
Waist-high in the water myself, I watched him splashing the water. He dunked Teddy under the water and I cringed, but made no move to stop him. It would dry. I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Wanna be it?" Echo questioned cryptically. I turned to her, confused.
"Wha-"
My voice was cut off suddenly in favour of a salty taste in my mouth as the brine stung my eyes. And then I emerged suddenly, fit to be tied, and turned to her with flashing eyes.
"You-"
She pushed me underwater again, holding me there for a moment before she let go of me and went splashing as far away as possible, leaving me spluttering and flailing around, looking like an idiot.
Madeline looked torn between scolding Echo and laughing with her. Seconds later, she ruled in favour of the latter.
I coughed up a mouthful of water and spit it out, staggering out of the surf to wipe my hands and face with a blanket. That task having been completed, I whirled around, my hair flipping irritably over my shoulder as I prepared to fully berate the two of them.
Echo was practically hanging on Madeline, the laughter in her almost too much to bear... and then something caught my eye and I glanced up to see what it was. A dove circled just overhead, seemingly deciding where to go. Echo and Madeline were next to look up, letting their eyes follow it as it decided where to go.
It flew one way, and then swerved in an odd 'S' shape, hovering just over our heads... and then the snow white bird turned and flew down to settle on the hand that I quickly raised to provide a landing for it.
My first letter.
I carefully untied the the slip of paper from the dove's leg and then looked it over. It was approximately six inches in length, rolled up scroll-style and tied carefully with a dark blue ribbon that had also been secured to the bird's leg. I carefully undid the knot and then unrolled the letter.
'To: Nova Quinn' (the letter read)
Dear Nova,
I'm sorry for putting this all on you. You probably don't believe me, or you don't understand, but you have to trust me. All is not as it seems. Trust Madeline and Echo, and keep dear little Calix safe. I miss you all. I will see you soon.'
The letter was unsigned.
I stared at it for a moment, just rereading the words over and over again.
"I'm sorry..."
"All is not as it seems..."
"Dear little Calix...
"See you soon..."
The dove took flight into the sky and disappeared over the forest, seemingly returning to its captain: this mysterious Five...
No one spoke. Echo was looking at Madeline almost worriedly, Calix tugging persistently on her sleeve. And then Echo snapped out of it and turned to my brother. She forced a smile in is direction and then picked him up and carried him back into the water. I waited for Madeline to say something, but she only smiled in an odd little way and then turned back to supervising Echo and Calix.
I walked over to Artemis and opened her saddle bag to put the letter in, and then I returned to the beach and sat down beside Madeline to dry off in the sunlight. Neither of us spoke for several minutes, and then Madeline turned to me curiously.
"Who was it from?" she asked, "the letter?"
As though she didn't already know.
"It was unsigned." I responded quietly, and it was the truth.
Madeline bit her lip and nodded once, promptly dropping the subject. I knew better. She had wanted to know what it said, but she would not ask to see it. She had just given me the chance to go into detail of what it had informed me, and I had turned it down.
There wasn't any reason in particular to keep it private, so I wasn't sure why I wanted to. Perhaps it was the idea that they knew I was keeping something from them, in the same way that they kept things from me. Maybe it was that the letter had comforted me, in a way, and I simply wished to hold it near for awhile longer before telling anyone else. Maybe it was because there was no signature, and there was no point showing her a letter that neither of us could discern the author of...
But I knew better... and she did, too. Only one person sent letters by way of dove.