I bristle, suddenly aware of the way his voice changes when he says the wordalone. Like he feels it. Like he recognizes what that kind of solitude does to someone.
“I’ve done it a long time,” I say. “Since before the Network was more than a handful of runes and a lightning storm that didn’t kill the Yeti by sheer miracle.”
He smiles, but it’s soft. Sad, even.
“That’s a long time without company.”
I look away. I don’t want to talk about this, especially not with him.
“There are others I see along the way,” I say. “Contacts. Colleagues.”
“That’s not the same and you know it.”
My jaw tightens. “I manage.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t,” he says gently.
Silence hangs between us, thick and vulnerable. It would be easy to change the subject. I should. Instead, the walls I’ve spent centuries building begin to crack.
“Solitude is safer,” I say slowly. “For us. For humans. For everyone.”
Elias’s eyes warm. “But maybe not for you.”
No one has ever said something like that to me—out loud, and without judgment.
I clear my throat roughly. “We are not discussing this.”
He smiles because he knows I’m deflecting. Then he leans forward slightly and says, “Boone. I want to do this with you. The journey. The stops. The Solstice. All of it.”
His words strike like a thunderstone. Not loud, not violent. Just deep.
“You really want to meet them?” I ask. “The others? The giants? The pack? Even the Bray Road Beast?”
His eyebrows lift. “Is that the one who hates technology?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes,” he says, smiling. “Absolutely yes.”
He’s either brave or stupid or both. I still haven’t decided which.
I let out a slow breath. “Then we need rules.”
“Rules?” he repeats, amused.
“Yes,” I say, counting them off on my fingers. “One: Stay beside me at all times. No wandering. No chasing plants. No approaching anyone unless I say it’s safe.”
His smile widens. “Okay.”
“Two: You must follow my lead when speaking. If I tell you to be quiet, be quiet. If I tell you to run?—”
“Is running common?” he asks.
“Not usually,” I admit. “But some creatures… react poorly to surprises.”
“I can be non-surprising,” he says solemnly.
“No,” I correct. “You can try.”