"You alive?" somebody called from above me.
I looked up. Stretched out on the bank were two slender legs wrapped in cloth strips that ended in combat boots. The legs disappeared at the knees into a woolen cloak.
"Yes," I answered.
"OK. Get up."
The guy came down the bank and entered the shallows with a splashing sound. Then he reached out with his thin arms to support my upper body. He was surprisingly strong.
Water trickled through my clothes, and I wondered how far I had drifted through the groundwater in the ancient ruin.
"No serious injuries," he said. "You're lucky."
A lantern on the bank illuminated his face, and I could see him staring at me from inside his hood. I've since forgotten what color his eyes were, but I remember they sparkled then.
"Can you walk?" he asked.
I just nodded.
His clear, high-pitched voice echoed through the semidarkness. He might have been younger than me because his voice had not yet broken.
We walked in silence, and he let me join him at a camp that had been settled by explorers, Seekers, and others—one that had been abandoned long before. Then he collected scattered solid fuel and quickly lit a fire.
"Do you mind if I take off my clothes to dry them?" I asked.
"No." He'd already closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. "My body needs to conserve power. If something bad comes here while I sleep, use that." He pointed to an old gun.
"But I've never…"
He didn't answer.
His cold attitude was comfortable for me. I didn't have to worry about what to say. Boys are like that. We never worry about having to chat with one another.
I peeled off my soaked shirt, pants, and boots. Then I found a shabby curtain in a box and wrapped myself in it, returning close to the fire.