Chapter 7: Foothold
Morning. Violet woke the moment the first light hit the gorge.
Her eyes were clear the instant they opened. She lay in the tent and spent three seconds remembering where she was. Then the pain arrived. Right foot. Left ribs. Collarbone. Neck. Back.
She sat up and checked the bandage on her foot. The bleeding had stopped. But the skin around the wound was still bruised purple. Swollen tight. She rewrapped it, pulled on Leon's coat, and crawled out of the tent.
Leon sat by the fire, back against a rock. His right arm was more swollen than yesterday. The skin stretched shiny. An angry red. She reached out and touched his forehead. Hot. The sawtooth venom.
"You're burning up," she said. "Your hunting party will be back today."
"And if they're not?"
"They will be."
Hoofbeats sounded in the distance. Many of them. Leon stood, left hand gripping his long blade. Darryl's hand went to his hilt. Seraphina peered out from her tent.
The hoofbeats came closer. Then seven figures appeared around the bend of the gorge.
They rode horses. Weapons and gear strapped to them. The one in front was a large bear beastman. Broad shoulders. A string of bone teeth hung across his chest.
The hunting party was back.
Violet stood where she was, watching them dismount. Her right foot rested lightly on the ground, taking just enough weight.
She was thinking about something. Her memory had improved. Not just "she remembered things clearly" good. Unnaturally good.
She remembered every word of Chapter Fifty-Eight of the original book. Six miles north of the Moonstone vein. The third dry riverbed. The fallen boulder. The three stones blocking the crack entrance. She even remembered the shapes of those stones. First one flat. Second one round. Third one pointed.
Details she could not possibly have recalled this clearly before she crossed over. She had read the book. But only read it. Something to pass time on a flight three months ago.
But now every word was in her head. Like it had been carved there.
Maybe it was this world. Something in the air. The water. Or something else. Maybe it was the new body. Cecilia Winter's body was fifteen years younger than Violet's. A cleaner brain.
Whatever the reason, her memory had become a weapon. No system. No golden finger. Just hers.
Leon walked up beside her. "What are you thinking?"
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow you'll know if what I said was true."
Leon stared at her for three seconds. "That gap you mentioned—"
"Wait until tomorrow." Violet cut him off. "After your people verify the first thing I told you. Then we talk about the second."
Leon was quiet for a beat. Then he nodded.
He turned toward the hunting party. They crowded around him, asking about his wounds all at once. Someone took the horses. Someone unloaded gear. Someone crouched to check the fire pit. The camp went from silent to loud in seconds.
Seraphina stepped out of her tent and stood beside Violet. Her eyes moved over the hunters, then shifted to Violet.
"Aren't you going to introduce yourself?" Her voice was soft.
"No."
"They'll be your tribe soon."
Violet glanced at her. "Not yet."
Seraphina tilted her head. "You're not worried? They might not believe you."
"Belief doesn't come from words. It comes from proof."
Seraphina's mouth curved up slightly. "You're confident."
"Not confident. Just out of options."
Seraphina looked at her for two seconds. Then she smiled and walked away.
Violet stood there, watching the hunters. They weren't looking at her. They were looking at Leon. Checking his wounds. Asking what happened.
No one noticed her.
Good. Before anyone noticed her, she needed time. Time to prepare her leverage.
She turned and walked back to the tent. Sat down. She pulled Leon's satchel toward her and took out the hide maps.
She needed to look at them again. Confirm the locations were right.
Six miles north of the Moonstone vein. The third dry riverbed. At the end of the riverbed, a fallen boulder. Gray. Shaped like a crouching bear. Beneath the boulder, a crack blocked by rubble. Move three stones. Go down three meters. Water. Running water. Enough for fifty people.
The eastern cave. Near the Silver Spring border. Stalactites above. A pool below. Not much water, but steady.
North Spring was dry. Two miles south of North Spring, a patch of water hidden by thorn bushes. Gray stones at the bottom, but the water was clean. Five times the flow of North Spring.
She folded the maps and put them back.
Outside, the noise of the hunters settled. Someone was making breakfast. Someone was feeding the horses. Leon's voice came through now and then. Low. Steady.
Violet closed her eyes.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would tell them where the water was. Tomorrow she would prove her worth.
She lay down and pulled Leon's coat tight. The smell of leather wrapped around her. Warm.
Far off, the Thorn Wolf howled again. Distant.
She turned onto her side and buried her face in the coat.
Tomorrow.
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End of Chapter Seven
She carved the water sources into her memory and put the maps back where they belonged. Tomorrow the hunting party will verify her words. Three new water sources. Every location correct. But her real leverage—it's more than just what she remembers.