Shay had fallen asleep in a small crevice after com-
plaining about the dampness and her hair, asking when
they were going to take her home. Tally crawled back to
where her friend lay and snuggled up next to her, trying to
forget the damage that had been done to Shay’s mind. At
least Shay’s new body wasn’t as painfully skinny; she felt
soft and warm in the damp cold of the cave. Cradled against
her, Tally managed to stop shivering.
But it was a long time before she fell asleep.
She woke up to the smell of PadThai.
Croy had found the food packets and purifier in her
knapsack and was making food with water from the fall,
apparently trying to placate Shay.
“A little escape was one thing, but I didn’t know you
guys were going to drag me all the way out here. I’m
through with this whole rebellion thing, I’ve got a wicked
hangover, and I really need to wash my hair.”
“There’s a waterfall right there,” Croy said.
“But it’s cold! I’m so
this camping-out bogusness.”
Tally crawled out into the big part of the cave, every
muscle stiff, every rock she’d slept on imprinted on her.
Through the curtain of the waterfall, dusk was falling. She
wondered if she’d ever be able to sleep at night again.
Shay was squatting on a rock, digging into the PadThai,
complaining that it wasn’t spicy enough. Bedraggled, in
dirty party clothes, her hair stuck to her face, she was still