It took them another twenty minutes before they reached the camp, and Yona could smell it before they arrived, which made the hairs on her arms stand on end in alarm. The scents of roasted fish, burning embers, and sweat hung in the air. They were all signs that humans were living here, had been living here for long enough that their guard was down. It would make them vulnerable if the Germans ever came to this part of the woods. “You’ll need to move your camp, Aleksander,” she murmured. “Tonight.”
“What?” Aleksander looked startled. “But it is already midday. There isn’t time to—”
“You are in danger here.” She was walking more quickly now, worried about the people ahead, in danger because they didn’t know how not to be careless. They were focused only on surviving, not erasing all traces of themselves. They didn’t realize, though, that the two things were the same.
For the first time since they’d met, Aleksander’s voice took on an edge. “Yona, I can’t. They won’t—”
“Aleksander.” Again she cut him off. “Please, trust me. We need to move now.”
He stopped and stared at her. After a second, she stopped, too, and met his gaze. “We?” he repeated.
She blinked a few times, startled by the question. “I will stay with you long enough to help you stay safe. And then I will go. But please, you must believe me now.”
He was silent for a few seconds, but she could see the storm in his eyes. “All right.”
They broke through a wall of trees, and suddenly the small encampment was in front of them, a haphazard scene of huts built inexpertly from leaning branches and leaves, a firepit in the middle ringed with mud, a large pot sitting beside it. Two old men lounged with their backs against trees, talking with their eyes half-closed, faces tilted to the sun, while a few women washed clothes in a small stream at the edge of the clearing. Yona’s skin tingled. Though convenient, it was terrible planning to hide beside a stream; trackers would follow the waterways first. Two little girls were chasing each other around the outskirts of the settlement, giggling, and a woman nursing a small boy watched them with sad eyes. Leib emerged from one of the poorly constructed lean-tos, followed by three women and an older man, and called out a greeting. All eyes went to Aleksander, and then immediately to Yona.
“Everyone, listen,” Aleksander said, striding into the clearing, his authority over the little group immediately evident. Even the baby stopped nursing and turned his head to look. The young mother—Ruth, Yona recalled—hastily covered herself and stood up, lifting the baby to her shoulder. “This is Yona. She is here to help us.”
“Amkha?” one of the young women with Leib asked, her expression unreadable. It was the same word Aleksander had said to Yona the first day she saw him trying to fish.
“Yes, she is one of us, Sulia,” Aleksander answered firmly.
The woman’s eyes flicked back to Yona. Her hair was the color of burned acorns, hanging to the middle of her back, and her waist was narrow beneath an ample bosom. After a long pause, she smiled. “Yona, is it?”
Yona nodded. She had been prepared for the strangeness of being around a group of people, but she hadn’t expected the look of judgment in so many eyes. They were all assessing her, trying to read her, trying to see if she belonged, even the two little girls, who had stopped playing and were whispering to each other as they stared.
It was Sulia’s gaze that seemed to penetrate the most deeply, though, so Yona was relieved when the other woman finally stepped away from Leib and walked across the clearing. She extended her hand. “Welcome,” she said to Yona.
Yona had seen handshakes before from afar, but she had never engaged in one herself. As she reached out and let Sulia’s hand encircle hers, she was surprised to feel how hard the other woman’s fingers squeezed, folding Yona’s fingers into an uneasy U. Yona tried to squeeze back with equal force, and Sulia blinked rapidly a few times before pulling away.
“So, Yona, you are from the area near Mir, too?” Sulia asked.
“No.”
Sulia seemed to be waiting for Yona to say more, but she didn’t.
“Yona, meet Ruth.” Aleksander nodded to the young mother, who nodded back and gave Yona a smile that was small but full of light. “That’s Daniel, and over there are Pessia and Leah, her other two children. Against the trees there, you see Leon and Oscher.”
The old men both raised a hand in greeting as Aleksander continued. “You know Leib, and the women with him are Miriam, his mother; Bina, who is Oscher’s wife; and Luba.” A woman in her forties with dark hair framed by graying streaks—who must have been Miriam—nodded at Yona. The other two women—one with long, straight white hair, the other with twisted hair the color of silverfish—smiled and waved.