Along the way, I passed a small river straddled by a bridge as wide as only three planks of wood and suspended by weathered rope. I hoped it was safe because I needed to cross it, so I held my breath, held even tighter to the rope, and took my first step forward. When I’d crossed, I looked back and felt a swell of pride. That hadn’t been nearly so difficult as I’d expected.
I paused at the river’s edge for a long drink. Where the water had pooled and become still, I stared at myself in the reflection and gasped. I looked horrible. Streaks of dirt lined my cheeks where I’d brushed tears off my face. Both my braids looked like something had clawed bits of hair loose to stick out in all directions. And my eyes were still red, though there was nothing I could do about that.
I washed my face, which already helped me feel a bit better, then undid my braids, finger combed my hair the best I could, then braided it again as neatly as possible. While I rested, I ate the second of the three cakes in the basket. I knew I shouldn’t have. It would surely take at least the rest of the day to walk to Venska, and I was bound to get hungry. But I was hungry now too.
Once I’d finished the cake, I decided I had better keep walking and get as far along the path as possible before my stomach rumbled for more food.
By mid-morning, I reached the fork in the path that Filip had told me about, or at least, it seemed like a fork. I didn’t think the trail that led to the right had gotten much use, but maybe few people ever went to Venska. Maybe just me and an occasional squirrel.
However, it became clear within the hour that I had taken a wrong turn. The worn path beneath my feet had faded into young summer plants and old autumn leaves so thick I knew nothing else had passed this way, not even a squirrel.
At least there was no evidence of soldiers passing this way either. So if I was lost, it could be worse.
But I was lost, and I’d been lost for long enough that I wasn’t even sure how to retrace my steps back to where I thought there’d been a fork in the trail. I would have to hope that if I continued, I would eventually come to Milda’s village or to any village where I might receive some help.
I limped forward while the sun rose in the sky and continued on even as it began to sink again. With it, my spirits sank too. For all I knew, I’d passed Venska hours ago and was halfway to Russia by now.
My mood worsened further when I first heard the sound of a river. Filip had said nothing about having to cross a second river, so I knew now that I was very far from where I ought to be. I rounded a bend and came upon it, then sighed. This river was much too wide to jump across, and if I tried to wade through it, I’d be soaked for the rest of the day and probably into the evening.
I searched upstream until I found an area with enough rocks that I could step from one to the other to cross. And it worked perfectly … at first.
Halfway across, my injured foot teetered on an uneven rock. One arm held on to the package while the other arm flapped wildly in the air, trying to keep my balance. For the first time, I was glad to be alone because I must have looked ridiculous. Nor did it work. I fell bottom-first into the water, landing on a sandbar a half-meter deep. Instinctively, I’d held up my father’s bag, so it was only splashed, but it had cost me the last cake to protect it. That had fallen from the basket in my arms and was now sailing down the river, sinking lower until it was out of sight. Tears filled my eyes, but I fought them back. It was absurd to cry for the loss of a cake when I’d lost my parents less than a day ago, and their loss was far worse. Maybe these tears weren’t for the cake at all.
“Why didn’t you cross on that log?”
The words were in Lithuanian, not Russian, but I still froze in place. I turned to see a boy downriver, standing beside a donkey, allowing it to drink from the water. Between us was a sawed log, nearly flat for crossing the river. How had I missed that? Worse still, how had I missed this boy? He looked older than me by a year or two but was about my height, so either I was a little tall for my age or he was a little short, I wasn’t sure. His brown hair was tousled and in need of a cut, but I gathered from the unkempt look of his clothes that his appearance wasn’t a priority. He had a nice smile, though, or he would have, if his smile wasn’t so upsetting. Was he lau
ghing at me?
“I prefer crossing on rocks,” I told him, which was a stupid thing to say.
“Ah. Round river rocks with slippery moss on the sides.” He grinned. So he was laughing at me. “Excellent choice.”
I stood, but my ankle hurt worse than ever, and with the current pulling at my legs, I began wobbling.
The boy left the donkey and ran for me, catching me beneath the arms just as I was about to splash in again.
“It’s no crime to ask for help,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulder. Then he smiled again. “Unless you ask in Lithuanian, of course. Then it’s a very serious crime.”
I tilted my head as I looked over at him. What a strange boy he was.
He nodded at the package in my arms. “May I carry that for you?”
“No.” I pulled it to my chest. I wouldn’t hand it over to anyone other than Milda, or maybe the Cossacks if Milda wouldn’t help me bargain with them for my parents.
He shrugged and led me the rest of the way to the riverbank, then let me sit on the grasses to rest.
“I’m Lukas,” he said. “I haven’t seen you around here before.” He hesitated, waiting for me to say something, and when I didn’t, he added, “Are you lost?”
“I’m trying to get to Venska,” I said.
Lukas grinned again. “Then you are indeed lost.” He pointed behind me. “Venska is about a half kilometer behind us now, once you get out of these woods. Be careful to spot the path leading into the village. It’s easy to miss.”
I grimaced and got to my feet again. I’d only taken a few steps forward before I braced myself for greater courage, then said, “Can you show me the way?”
Lukas hesitated and looked around him. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Please.”