Interesting. Deflection through accusation. Personal questions matter more than tactical ones.
We continue between giant roots that arch from the ground like the ribs of buried beasts.
“Well?” I say.
She drags fingers across fern tips as she walks, scattering dew in bright drops. “Alive, if fortunate.”
“That answer avoids the question entirely.”
“That was the point.”
I let silence work for several breaths, then change angle.
“What do you miss?”
This time she laughs softly without humor. “You’ve abandoned prophecy for grief now.”
“I’m exploring motive.”
“You’re trespassing.”
“Then charge me admission.”
She slows near a patch of blue fungi pulsing faintly under a fallen log. “Sunlight,” she says at last. “Rooms with windows that opened. Choosing when to sleep. Choosing when to speak. Bread warm enough to steam when broken. Names that belonged to me.”
A truth not extracted through force, purchased through direction. I file away every word.
“And you?” she asks before I can press further. “What would you have become if you’d been born elsewhere?”
The question should be simple. It is not.
We pass beneath hanging moss that brushes shoulders and hair like cool fingers.
“More honest,” I say.
She turns her head sharply enough to catch me studying the path rather than her face.
“That sounded expensive.”
“It was free. Which should concern you.”
“Everything free from men like you concerns me.”
We reach a shallow stream by midday where clear water runs over black stones and carries the scent of iron-rich earth from somewhere deeper uphill. I kneel to refill skins. She crouches opposite, sleeves rolled to the elbow, wrists pale against dark current.
“What do you want after this?” I ask.
She does not pretend to be confused. “After your artifact?”
“After the road. After my house. After everyone trying to use what you are.”
She trails fingers through the water. Tiny silver fish flash away.
“Space,” she says. “A locked door with the key on my side. Work chosen by me. Silence that belongs to no threat. Perhaps a garden, if I learn patience.”
“A garden?”
“You say it like a scandal.”