Horde

War

That day in Lorraine, we more than doubled our number. Company D remained in town for two more weeks while we offered rudimentary training. It wasn’t enough for the dangers we’d face in the wilderness, but scouts reported activity in Appleton; part of the horde was on the move. So we had to march, though our war band was still too small to face them.

By nightfall, we were camped alongside the river. I wished Stalker were here to offer tactical advice, but I’d left him planted in the ground, and I owed him a decisive victory. While the rest of the men tended to mundane tasks, I called a meeting: Fade, Thornton, Tully, Spence, and Morrow. They were my most experienced warriors, so it made sense to ask their advice.

“Of all the recruits, you’ve seen the most combat. What’s the best move?”

“You’re in charge,” Thornton muttered. “I’m just here to kill Muties.”

“But you acted like you knew what you were doing, the night we covered the retreat to Soldier’s Pond.” And it was true. He wouldn’t get out of strategic planning by claiming ignorance. I’d seen too much of his skill over the past months.

“We can’t fight them head-on,” Tully put in.

Spence nodded his agreement. “Sands told me that three hundred strong set out from Appleton. My guess is, they’re heading for Lorraine. It’s the next nearest town for plundering.”

“But the rest of the horde is settling in?” Morrow asked.

I’d wondered the same thing. “We’ve assumed that they were all soldiers, but what if the horde’s numbers are swollen by noncombatants? The warriors might’ve been searching for a safe place to leave them while they sack our towns.”

“Like the village in the woods near Salvation.” Fade’s voice was soft, but etched in bitterness, as if the memory ate at him.

“How does that impact our strategy?” I glanced between them, willing them to volunteer some insight. Stalker had known the most about planning assaults, yet I had to push forward.

Thornton wore a tired look. “If you’re right, then the ruthless thing to do would be to circle around to Appleton and hit their weak point.”

“The females and the brats,” I breathed.

Silence fell, as we all contemplated the value of such a strike. Greater numbers wouldn’t matter so much then, as we’d be facing weaker opponents. Nursing Freak females and offspring weren’t exactly defenseless, but they couldn’t compete with trained soldiers like us. The brutal nature of the attack might break the enemy’s fighting spirit, but it might also fuel their hatred, making them determined to exterminate humanity at any cost.

Ultimately I shook my head. “I can’t wage that kind of war.”

“Even if it’s the only way to win?” Tully asked.

The decision hurt, but I stuck to it. “No, we’ll find another way.”

Fade added, “We don’t know that much about Mutie culture. All of them might be trained to fight, so we could hit Appleton, only to find the females and brats are every bit as ferocious as the ones pillaging our towns.”

Spence nodded. “Plus, I’ve seen some momma bears defending their cubs, and believe me, you do not want to mess with them.”

“In some ways,” I said, “Muties are more like animals. So it stands to reason they wouldn’t react like humans if we attacked territory they’ve claimed.”

“A hit-and-run campaign would serve best. Like in a book I read.” Morrow wore a thoughtful look, as if he were trying to remember more details. “We have to keep our units lean and mobile. We’ll move faster since our squad’s still pretty lean. So we rely on Stalker’s scouts to provide us with good intel, then we strike, kill some, and disappear. We use the land around us, the darkness, every advantage we can muster. Because this will be a long fight.”

I gave a quick nod. “Excellent. You’re in charge of tactics.”

Morrow stared at me. “I’m just a storyteller.”

“You’re not. One of these days I’m going to ask where you found all of these books you’ve read, but right now, we need to plan.”

Everyone agreed with that, and Morrow shared everything he could remember about that tale. Unlike The Day Boy and the Night Girl, we didn’t have a copy of the war strategy book, so I had no way of knowing whether the smaller army achieved victory in the end. But it was the best idea we had.

In the morning, we broke camp. To my annoyance, it took longer than it should, and I vowed to work on that. The men needed to pack their gear in less than five minutes. I couldn’t have them wandering around complaining about a night on the ground. So I set Thornton on them, as his thunderous scold was far more impressive than anything I could produce; and I had no experience yelling at people anyway.

I sought Morrow before we moved out. “Would you take over the scouts? They need a leader and I think you’d serve. But only if you’re willing.”

“You put a lot of faith in me, Deuce.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t?” I had noticed his silent movements, his careful grace. While he might not be as adept at slinking in and out of the shadows as Stalker had been, Morrow would be a fair replacement.

With a wry smile, he shook his head. “It’s an honor. I’ll do my best to keep them safe.”

“I know. Now go get me some intel. We can’t move far until we know for sure which way the Muties are heading.”

It was a tense wait by the riverbanks. Company D occupied the time in drills. I put Fade, Tully, and Spence to supervising the sparring sessions. It was odd seeing normal townsfolk learning to fight, but they were all willing. Gavin worked particularly hard, hanging on every word Spence uttered. The brat had incredible heart to make up for his lack of size; each time his partner knocked him down, he came up swinging, and occasionally, he surprised somebody with his ferocity. I could tell he had a grudge to work off against the Freaks, and his anger troubled me, not because he was upset over the loss of his parents, but I feared it might get the best of him at the wrong time. Rage would get him killed.

I pulled him out of his current match and sat him down. He glared at me with green grass eyes, furious in his dirty face. “What? I was holding my own. And he’s bigger.”

This boy couldn’t be more than fourteen years old, and his small size made me wonder if he was younger. “How old are you?”

“I’m over the recruiting age. You set that at thirteen.”

“I know. Just tell me.”

“I’ll be fifteen in a few months,” he muttered.

He seemed so young, maybe because the Topside world tried to protect its young more than they had done down below. It felt like much more than a year and a few months separated us. I guessed his world had been very different before the Freaks changed so much, Winterville panicked, and Dr. Wilson spread his poison.

I made my tone hard because I knew he wouldn’t respect me if I was tender with him. He didn’t want that, and couldn’t handle it. This boy was after blood, not kindness. “If you get yourself killed fighting like a cow with two left hooves, you won’t live to see the Muties in the ground. Is that what you want?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Sir,” I corrected. “In this army, it doesn’t matter what people have in their pants. Now get back in there and use your head, not just your fists.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tegan came over to me as practice tailed off. “He reminds me of someone.”

She had been less obvious about her anger, kept it locked up inside her, but I’d seen her fury when I first found her in Gotham. She’d let it out with each blow of the club; Tegan hadn’t fought smart back then, either. The staff suited her better.

“You stay back,” I cautioned.

“I know. I’m second line of defense and full-time medic. I won’t be in the vanguard.” She stared into the fields, watching the wind blow across the leaves. “It’s unnerving to be out here, isn’t it? Not knowing exactly where our enemies are.”

I knew what she meant. The wilderness was quiet apart from the chirps of birds and the chitter of insects, the burbling rush of the river behind us. Springtime had greened the grass as far as the eye could see, but just over the next rise, could lurk violence and death. Despite myself, I shivered, hoping the scouts returned soon.

By noon I had my wish. They had done their work well and Morrow made the report. “They’re moving northeast of here. From what we can tell, they’re heading for Lorraine.”

“Then we need to follow them, wait until they camp, and strike when they’re asleep.”

“Let’s fight fire with fire,” Fade said.

“Did we bring along any liquor?” Tully asked.

Since drinking left soldiers sloppy and careless, the answer should be no, but when we searched the packs, we found six jugs. I left Thornton verbally reaming the men who had violated the code of conduct while the others carted off the contraband. Tully popped the cork on one and sniffed it.

“It’s strong,” she said. “This will do nicely.”

“For what?” I asked.

“We can make fire bombs. And with some rags, I can set my bolts on fire. These will scatter the Muties, induce panic, especially if we strike while they’re asleep.”

The remainder of that day we marched according to the scouts’ directions. At Morrow’s orders, they were constantly running back and forth, carrying messages about this portion of the horde. It wasn’t the whole army I’d seen camped in the fields outside Salvation, but they didn’t need all of their forces to take smaller towns. It made sense for them to protect the territory they’d already claimed—and at the moment, I didn’t have sufficient numbers to take back Appleton, but I could keep them from overrunning Lorraine. Come nightfall, we were three miles from our intended target.

“Tonight, it’s critical that you follow orders. Kill on the perimeter and fall back. Make them chase you. Anything that increases confusion and decreases visibility, do it. And run if you need to.” I raked away the grass until I had a patch of dry dirt to serve as a map, then I etched some directions. “This is where we’ll regroup. They may follow, trying to force a fair fight. We won’t give it to them. This is where our forest starts, and if necessary, we’ll fight in retreat. Ideally, though, we’re going to hit them, kill as many as we can, then vanish. That’s the plan.”

“Any questions?” Thornton asked.

There were a number and he fielded them as I strode away. I hoped I sounded confident and prepared when my heart was pounding like a drum. So much depended on my instincts being right; I had no doubts that this needed to be done, but maybe I had no business attempting it. Who am I to lead these men?

“I’m with you,” Fade said softly.

I wanted so badly to turn into his arms, but I was afraid he’d recoil—and it wouldn’t be a good way to behave in front of the men, either. No doubt Tully and Spence were deeply in love, despite the fact that she was a good ten years older, but they never touched, never kissed where anybody could see. I just saw it in the way he gazed at her, like he’d fall over and stop breathing if she ever quit looking back.

“It’s normal to be scared,” he went on, “and I’m glad you are. It makes me feel better about the butterflies in my stomach. This will be the biggest battle we’ve ever fought.”

“Thanks.”

Though his arms remained at his sides, Fade whispered, “This is me holding you. And this is me, kissing you for luck.”

That put a smile on my face. Maybe a battlefield was no place for such attachments, but I couldn’t put away those feelings. He was part of me like my shadow.

“This is me, kissing you back.”

“Deuce!” Morrow shouted. “I need you.”

My eyes met Fade’s and clung, and that look said so many things, and then I strode away to handle last-minute inquiries about troop deployments. The camp the Freaks had chosen offered us higher ground on a ridge above, so that was where I meant to plant our riflemen. Tully planned to start the fires, and six soldiers would carry the firebombs, which could be lobbed as far as somebody could throw them.

Just after moonrise, Company D moved out. A silver sliver in the sky, the moon cast barely enough light to keep the rest of the men from stumbling over their feet. For me, it was fine, and I could’ve navigated with my eyes closed. Which meant I was on point with the scouts to make sure the ambush went off smoothly.

I crept up over the rise, my stomach in knots. I hadn’t seen so many Freaks gathered in one place since I ran from the horde, saving Fade. Fear boiled up in the form of bile, acid in my throat, but I swallowed it down. You’ve taken enough, I told the monsters silently. This is all you get. This is where the end begins.

After spotting the best vantage points, I set the riflemen in place. Once the fires started burning down below, it should help with targeting. After all, it didn’t matter where they shot the Freaks; bullets never felt good going in. Once Tully was in position with the gunmen, I crept down to join the others.

“Thornton,” I whispered. “You have command of the infantry. Don’t let the inexperienced ones get swept too far into the mob.”

“Will do my best,” he said with Longshot’s familiar salute.

Thornton wasn’t the only man I’d seen use that gesture; it was common in the territories, a way of showing respect without acknowledging any superior rank. Yet it was inexpressibly poignant to see that just before the fight of a lifetime, a sign that Longshot was here watching over me. Maybe that was nonsense, but I’d take the hope of it because then I could imagine being united someday with the people I’d lost. If nothing else, it bolstered my courage, so I was able to give orders in a tone firm enough to make them believe we would triumph.

“The enemy’s sleeping, men. Bring the pain.”

Escort

From the first fiery bolt, the battle went according to plan.

We got a bonus when the field caught, creating an inferno of snarling panic. The Freaks fled from the blaze and ran straight into our blades. Between the dark night and the bright fire, they hardly saw us as they died. The firebombs exploded in the center of the camp, immolating a number of the monsters. On the ridge, riflemen picked them off as they scattered. In the chaos, we killed them with impunity, until they realized how few we were and then they charged. I couldn’t let them surround us. My men didn’t have the experience to win at such steep odds.

“Sound the retreat,” I shouted.

Morrow piped out the notes warning the squad to fall back to the agreed location on the forest’s edge. The men responded, aware our tactics didn’t allow for a stand-up fight; we meant to kill as many as possible before luring them to more advantageous terrain, where we’d fare better against superior numbers. Fade was nearby, so we fought together as we gave ground. I stabbed and slashed, careful not to turn my back on monsters that might impale me from behind. Thornton shot one over my shoulder and I turned. Fade ran with me, full out, until we put the war zone behind us. I counted as the soldiers stumbled in. In the end, we lost ten men. Well enough, I hadn’t expected to defeat them in one ambush.

“How many did you get?” I asked the men, after they reached our rendezvous point.

The tally was close to a hundred—and I smothered their urge to cheer. It was a solid achievement, one third of the enemy’s number. We fell back into the forest thereafter and these Freaks apparently weren’t bound by the deal we’d made with the others, which confirmed they were part of the horde. They hunted us through the trees, but in such terrain, they couldn’t fight as a mob, so we picked them off. Company D fought in constant motion, never letting them rest. On the sixth night, the Freaks fell back to set up camp in the grasslands beyond. There were only a hundred of them left by then, but I had no plans to offer them a fair fight.

Two weeks into the conflict, other problems plagued us. Between the Freaks in the area and our own men, it was difficult to find game. Fishing helped a little, but time spent on provender, as Thornton called it, left less time for evading their attacks and for planning our own. The situation had to be addressed before it got worse.

Before I could resolve that crisis, Morrow brought grim news. “There’s a trade caravan heading from Gaspard to Soldier’s Pond. My scouts think the Muties we’ve been harassing intend to hit it for supplies before circling back to Lorraine.”

“We can’t let that happen,” I said. “Let’s move.”

That began a hard march east with little food and less sleep. Company D was thin and exhausted when we met the traders on the road. I expected them to greet us with rifles, but word of our exploits had spread, and they actually recognized the banner Momma Oaks had made. Most days, Gavin carried it proudly, the pennant flying in the wind.

“Oi, Company D!” the lead driver called.

“You intend to hang us too?” I joked.

Laughing, the man shook his head. “The guards are still talking about that, you know. I wouldn’t expect a warm welcome in town anytime soon, but stories are different on the road. Vince Howe and John Kelley have only the best things to say.”

“We’ll get you to Soldier’s Pond,” I offered, “but you’ll have to help feed us.”

I hoped they could spare us something in Soldier’s Pond since a good number of our men came from there. If not, we could surely share the traders’ rations while we protected them.

The trader nodded without hesitation. “I can make the meal stretch to porridge if you can augment with fresh meat.” There was some grumbling from his men because they’d expected skillet cakes, not gruel, but he leveled a stern look on them. “Do you want to live? This area’s crawling with Muties.”

He was right; only the skill of our scouts had let us reach the caravan before the enemy, and to get to Soldier’s Pond, we had to circle the forest because of the wagons. There would be ample opportunity for them to hit us before then. A knot formed in my stomach because the last time we’d guarded supplies like this, Stalker died. I couldn’t handle losing anybody else. But I put my fears aside and informed the men that we had a new goal—and at the end, there would be some rest in Soldier’s Pond. That roused a weary cheer from warriors who had been subsisting on plants and berries. I didn’t know about them, but I was starving and so weary of wild-leek-and-mushroom soup. It had been days since I’d eaten more than a scrap of meat, choosing to give my share to the soldiers instead.

“You’re too thin,” Fade had said, when he caught me doing so. “You can’t keep up your strength if you don’t eat.”

“I am,” I’d muttered.

There just wasn’t much to be had. Between constant fighting and laying ambushes, then moving fast enough to stay out of reach, we didn’t have time to hunt properly or bring down big game, assuming the Freaks had left any. There should be moose and deer, but it had been a week since the scouts saw any tracks. There was only smaller game like rabbits and squirrels, less worth the trouble of catching because it took so many to feed the soldiers. Sometimes we skinned them and put the meat in the pot for flavor along with the leeks, potatoes, and mushrooms, but it wasn’t enough nutrition to keep us strong.

“I can’t wait to see my family,” a man said.

“Me either.”

I left them to the talk of happy reunions, as long as they fell into formation when Thornton barked the order. And they did. My soldiers were young and old, male and female, but they all had courage to spare. We marched alongside the wagons with the Company D banner flying high; and it was dusk when the monsters came.

This was their first chance to strike at us in the open, a risk I’d known we were taking when I decided to protect the caravan. But if they got hold of these supplies, people in Soldier’s Pond and Gaspard might starve, plus it’d strengthen the enemy. I couldn’t let that happen. I recalled what Dr. Wilson said about how hunger made them digest their own brains. If we kept them from finding new food sources, they’d get dumber and easier to kill. They came at us in the loping run now so familiar to me, but there was no smell at all, except the sweat of unwashed soldiers and the general reek of the mules.

“Formation C,” I shouted.

Thankfully, our drills had prepared the men for a number of contingencies, and they arrayed themselves with foot soldiers in front and riflemen in back. Tully vaulted on top of a wagon, then pulled Gavin up beside her. From on top of the crates they opened fire, gunning down two to start the bloodshed off right. The animals screamed in terror but the drivers sawed at the reins and didn’t let them bolt in panic. I waited at the front, braced to receive their charge.

I had Tegan on one side and Fade on the other. She knocked one down for me, just like she used to do for Stalker, and I stabbed it through the neck. Tegan smashed one in the face as Morrow ran it through, and on my other side, Fade fought with economical grace, his moves a dodge and weave that never left my flank vulnerable. I stayed tight too, my blades spinning in the purple light. I lost count of how many I killed, but I heard Tully shout she was out of quarrels. A few riflemen said the same, and they pushed forward to fight with their knives.

Blood gushed, like spilled wine across the pub floor in Otterburn. The monsters knew they had to win this fight, so they never broke and ran, not even when Fade slew the last one with a blade straight through the heart.

The victory cost us twenty men, however. Before we moved, Company D dug another mass grave to keep scavengers away. Tully spoke the words on our behalf because I was too tired and I had nothing to say. As we shoveled dirt on their bloody faces, I noticed how young some of them were, a few barely meeting my age limit.

You did this. You took these boys and girls away from their mothers.

“But I didn’t kill them,” I whispered.

The words didn’t assuage my guilt. When we moved on, we were a bleak, unhappy group, and the thin gruel we ate for supper didn’t cheer anybody up. The scouts found us a clear path to Soldier’s Pond thereafter, and while they saw smaller groups of Freaks prowling the hills nearby, none of them dared to attack. I was exhausted beyond description when we saw Soldier’s Pond on the horizon. A weary huzzah came from the men, but they didn’t look good. Many had developed sores; their shoes and boots were in rags, so their feet bled as we marched.

My dream hung in tatters, and though we were doing some good, I was failing at keeping my men safe and healthy. I didn’t have the experience for this, but the problem was, nobody did. Humans had cowered in their settlements for so long that they had forgotten how to fight without terrible potions and mysterious poisons. The only information we had came from Morrow’s stories—and I still needed to ask him about those.

There should be time in Soldier’s Pond.

The guards came out to meet the wagons, offering safe escort, and that was just as well, as I didn’t think my men had any fight in them. The townsfolk might complain about us appearing to gobble up their provisions, but they wouldn’t have these trade goods from Gaspard without us. And Soldier’s Pond was far from self-sufficient.

“Thank you,” the trader said as the caravan passed the town’s defenses. “We’d have died on the road if not for your men.”

His name was Marlon Bean, and I expected him to add his story to the ones circulating from Vince Howe and John Kelley. In the long run, their goodwill might save Company D, but for the moment, I merely nodded and led the soldiers to a much-desired homecoming. The guards had all kinds of questions, but I hushed them with an impatient gesture. It wasn’t until I saw Tegan’s brows go up that I realized how used to command I had become.

I frowned at her as I called, “I’m giving all of you forty-eight-hours’ leave. The mess is over there … stick with a local if you don’t know the way. Once you’ve eaten, find the bathhouse. Then locate a bunk and get some rest. Some of you need your wounds wrapped or bandages changed. I don’t think anybody’s likely to die overnight, so see Tegan and me in the morning. We’ll fix you up. That’s all. And enjoy the break.”

The men surged off, grateful to be out of the wilderness. I knew how they felt.

Fade beckoned with a stern look. “That order to rest goes for you too.”

Since I was dizzy by this point, I let him tow me toward the mess. If we were off schedule, I’d make the cook open the kitchen myself. Fortunately, however, Colonel Park was on top of things. She met us in the hall and she had two extra workers in tow so they could make more food quickly. As usual, it was tasteless, but we were all so hungry I would’ve happily eaten a bucket of the mushroom porridge they gave us down below.

As we ate, I realized belatedly that we’d sat in a cluster of officers. Nothing so formal had ever been declared, of course, but I always turned to Fade, Tegan, Thornton, Tully, Morrow, or Spence when I needed something. And here we sat, nobody else at our table. I wouldn’t have sent anyone else away, but I guessed the others figured this was our inner circle, and we had clever plans to make. Or maybe they just wanted a break from the lot of us. I listened to the conversation with half an ear; it was an important issue, but I lacked the drive to tackle the problem straightaway when I had forty-seven hours of freedom.

“We have to ask all towns in the territory for a tithe,” Thornton was arguing.

Morrow protested, “But we can’t make them give us supplies.”

Spence scowled, gesturing with his spoon so that he was in danger of losing the stewed poultry and dough he’d scooped up. “We can refuse to protect them if they choose not to.”

It sounded hard, but maybe he was right. If they weren’t willing to tighten their belts and donate to the soldiers keeping the horde at bay, then they could deal with the consequences. In so many ways, I’d bitten off more than I could chew; some days, only pure stubbornness kept me pushing forward when I felt so stupid, the least suitable person to be leading Company D.

Morrow shook his head, however. “Fear and intimidation won’t serve long-term. They’ll only come to see us as tyrants, the reasons their families are going hungry.”

“There’s also the matter of hauling provisions,” Fade said. “If we have wagons full of supplies, rather than just what we each carry, then it slows our movements. And we lack the numbers to face the horde head-on.”

He was right about that. Before we joined up with the Gaspard traders, we’d sent scouts to Appleton, trying to get a handle on the actual number and there were still too many to count. It was impossible to send someone all through town, but from what Sands told us, the Freaks were living in the town, not ransacking it. They hadn’t damaged the buildings; they were moving in and out of the houses like people, and that alarmed me as much as anything I’d heard.

“We won’t solve this over dinner,” Tully said at last. “Why don’t we talk to the colonel tomorrow and see what she suggests? Her family has always been in the military and she’s got a lot of old books full of historical campaigns.”

I leveled a look at Morrow. The last time we were here, I’d noticed how he kissed the colonel on her cheeks, though he wasn’t her husband. With a single raised brow, I invited him to elaborate, but he held his silence, and I made up my mind that I’d unearth his secrets before we moved out again.

Counsel

After a bath came a joyous reunion with my family. Each time I returned, they seemed a little surprised, as if they had secretly resigned themselves to my loss. Momma Oaks was thrilled with how the company had taken to her banner, but she wept when she heard about Stalker. I hugged her tight, fighting tears, and Edmund patted my shoulder, awkward as he always was with strong emotion.

“Where’s Rex?” I asked, stepping back.

“Still at the shop,” Edmund answered.

Momma Oaks bit her lip. “He’s a tad angry with you.”

There was nothing for it but to get the confrontation out of the way. So I headed down to the workshop, where I found Rex pulling a needle through some leather, trimming it. He glanced at me with a face like a thundercloud.

No greeting. “I saw how many new men you’ve taken on. Are they all trained warriors?”

Since that had been my objection to him joining up, I winced. “No. But they’re not my brothers, either.”

“Do you have any idea how it feels to be refused by your mother?”

“No. Because I never had one until I got yours.”

“Ours,” he corrected, losing a little of his righteous indignation. But he soldiered on, “You should’ve told me in person, Deuce. Instead you slipped off without facing me.”

He was right about that. I’d told myself I was in a hurry, but I just hadn’t wanted to look into his eyes and say, No, you can’t fight. Stay home and make your momma happy. Which was ridiculous, considering he had been married and living away from home for years.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I said honestly. “It would break her heart. And I can’t guarantee your safety out there.”

“You can’t in here, either.”

That was true, especially after what happened in Salvation. “Do you still want to fight?”

“I do. The orders have slacked off … and I can tell Pa’s just inventing work for me, trying to keep me busy.”

“You’re not looking to die to be with Ruth or something stupid like that?”

Rex shook his head. “I want to avenge my wife. It’s a sin and goes against our ways, I know. But as many of those monsters as I can kill, well, I’d consider that a good day’s work.”

I understood this motivation. It shouldn’t involve reckless heroics, either. Because he couldn’t slay a bunch of Freaks if he got himself killed.

“Go see Thornton about weapons … and ask Momma for some fighting gear. Edmund will need to fix your boots too. We could use a lot more of them, come to think of it.”

I contemplated my men with their bloody feet and thin faces. If Company D was to thrive and grow, I had to get better at providing for them. So I went back to the bunkhouse and caught the Oakses in a rare private moment. Edmund was holding Momma Oaks while she wept silently into his shoulder. Sucking in a soft breath, I crept away, not wanting to interrupt. Confused, I sat on the damp ground until I guessed it had been long enough for them to finish whatever that was. I had no idea if she was happily weeping because I’d come back or if she missed Salvation.

Half an hour later, I returned and a glance inside told me that Edmund must’ve gone to the workshop. I caught up with him there and made my request.

He nodded. “I’m happy to make whatever you need, provided I have the supplies. I’ve outfitted all the men here, and now I’m making surplus in common sizes. You’re welcome to them, though if you have men with extra large feet or small ones, they’ll need a custom fit.”

“Thanks, Edmund.”

“I’m glad to do my part for the war effort,” he said quietly.

His sincerity moved me. My father believed I was doing something important, and he took me seriously. I had to hug him, even if that wasn’t usually my first impulse. He looked surprised as I came around the counter, but he wrapped his arms around me like it was the easiest thing in the world. For him and me, though, it never was. For a few seconds, I enjoyed the warmth of his hold. Then I stepped back and told him about Rex.

He flinched far inside his eyes, but he nodded. “I saw that coming. I’ll break the news to your mother.”

I didn’t correct him, even in my head. They weren’t my foster anything. These folks had become my family, along with Fade, Tegan, and maybe, to a lesser degree, Company D.

In the morning, I went to see the colonel before breakfast. I found her in the HQ, listening to reports on Freak movements on the other side of the forest. Though they didn’t go out looking for trouble, Soldier’s Pond always had good intel, but the colonel erred on the side of caution. Deep down I suspected she felt unprepared for her position, just as I did, so she was reluctant to send men out to die. But while humans cowered, the horde grew.

“Colonel Park,” the scout was saying. “There’s no activity in the forest, but there are hunting parties circling around. It’s only a matter of time until they reach us.”

“If you want us to help defend the town, we’ll need more men,” I murmured.

“Good morning to you too,” the colonel said. “You don’t believe in small talk, do you?”

“Not so much. We also need provisions, whatever you can spare.”

“I’d ask how many times you intend to make me turn you down before you give up, but I suspect the answer is infinite. Because you don’t give up.”

I smothered a smile. “I’m not known for it.”

“I’ll talk to the quartermaster and see what we can spare without running the risk of privation this winter.”

“Thanks.”

“Have you given any thought to your command structure?” she asked.

When I shook my head, I received a lecture on the necessity of running a tight ship, whatever that meant. She laid out how a proper army should be run, stressing the importance of a clear hierarchy. Colonel Park scanned the room as if checking for unfriendly ears, then she added, low, “I wish I could do more to help you. But my advisors are frightened, cautious men. They think if we maintain a neutral attitude, the Muties won’t engage.”

“I’ve seen that proven false, time and again. Salvation did nothing to provoke the monsters, just went about their business. Same with Appleton, so far as I know.”

“I believe you. I just hope it doesn’t take a tragedy here to motivate them.”

“Why don’t you overrule them?”

“Because when my father died, he left me only provisional power.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“‘Colonel’ used to be an earned title, but I inherited the role from my father. Since I was younger than anyone expected, due to the bleeding fever, when I took over from him, there were conditions set on my administration of the armed forces.” Likely she could tell I didn’t understand, so she clarified, “My authority is subject to checks and balances from my advisors.”

“So they can gainsay you. That’s too bad.”

With a few more polite words, I let her get back to meeting with the scouts. In that moment, I felt a bit sorry for her. It would be awful to be in charge, but not really, with people second-guessing every move. She had information and resources at her fingertips but she didn’t have the freedom to use any of it as she deemed fit, at least, not without arguments and endless voting. Sometimes disasters required quick, decisive action.

We stayed in Soldier’s Pond more than two days. It took longer for Edmund to outfit all the men, and Momma Oaks convinced the quartermaster to let her have multiple bolts of unused cloth; so while Edmund made boots, she was madly stitching uniforms. In that time, the colonel procured cornmeal, dry beans, and Morrow dug up a recipe for hardtack, which consisted of flour and water, baked multiple times until the ingredients were like small bricks.

“What’re we supposed to do with this?” I asked, when the storyteller brought me to the mess to show me what the cooks had created.

At this hour, the room was empty apart from the harried workers, who had been experimenting with the recipe for hours, and us. Morrow frowned, likely at my lack of imagination. “If you crumble them, they thicken a stew. Crushed and mixed with milk or egg, they become pancakes. Or we can eat them like this if there’s nothing else. They last forever.”

With each soldier carrying his allotment of beans, cornmeal, dried meat, and hardtack, we should do well for the rest of the campaign, at least until the cold set in. Soon there would be tubers and fruit on the trees, more berries and wild greens. My concern was the scarcity of game with the horde hunting in our territory, but we couldn’t stop fighting for fear of hunger.

“You think we’ll run across cows and chickens in the field?” I teased. “That seems likely. I bet we’ll have pancakes in the skillet every morning.”

“You’re cruel to a man who spent hours paging through dusty old books for you.”

I raised a brow. “For me? Or Tegan?”

It was no secret, the way he looked at her when she was helping the men. I’d also observed how he sought her out during quiet moments and that he seemed to enjoy their training sessions a whole lot, maybe because he got to be close to her. I didn’t think Tegan had noticed how he felt, but I had gotten better at paying attention to such details, after the misunderstanding with Stalker. My heart hurt when I remembered him, but the alternative was forgetting, and that was the final kind of death—when nobody told your story anymore.

“I’d like her to eat more,” he admitted. “She’s too skinny. So are you.”

“That accounts for everyone in Company D.”

With a small, sly smile, Morrow offered, “Well, I’m more concerned about the eating habits of some than others.”

“Me too. Thanks for your effort on this.” I turned to the cooks. “The colonel wants you to bake five hundred more of these.”

They grumbled, but it was a measure of my status that they just went back to work. Morrow seemed impressed as we left the mess together, but I didn’t let him run off. I wasn’t done with this conversation yet.

“You’ve had access to all kinds of books,” I said. “More than we’ve seen in any town or village we’ve visited. Gotham was the only place I ever saw that had so many. A lot of them were ruined, but plenty more could still be read. Have you been there?”

I knew Morrow was a wanderer—that he wasn’t from Soldier’s Pond—but he had been oddly reticent about his past. He sighed as he shook his head and started walking. I had no idea where he was going, but I didn’t mean for him to leave me behind, so I quickened my pace. We ended up in the cowshed we’d used for training. There was nobody there, just the animals, so at least it was private.

“No. I’m from the west … a village called Rosemere.”

I’d seen it on Longshot’s maps, but I couldn’t place it. Though it was listed, it wasn’t on the trade routes he’d drawn. “Where’s that, exactly?”

“On the Evergreen Isle.”

That was why he hadn’t traveled there. Longshot only covered land routes, and you had to cross the water to get to Rosemere. “You don’t talk about it much. Was it bad there?”

“No,” Morrow said softly. “It was heaven.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“The usual story. I loved a girl who didn’t feel the same, so I vowed to see the world and make her sorry I left.”

“Did it work?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t been back.”

“Tell me about it?”

The storyteller was in his element, painting a picture for me in words. He spoke of a jewel of a village with white stone cottages and charming gardens in bloom, of the market where all manner of lovely things were sold, of a sturdy dock where men went out in small boats to cast their nets and women in head scarves hung out their washing while calling cheerfully to one another. Of the Evergreen Isle, he said even more.

“You have to see it to believe. Forests all around, green as far as the eye can see. It’s lush and unspoiled, no other ruins, and there have never been any mutants.”

That seemed odd. “Why not?”

“They can’t swim. I’m not sure why, but I’ve seen them try a few times from the ruins on the other side of the river, and they always sink like stones.”

I bet Dr. Wilson would have a theory, but there was no time to detour to Winterville to ask him; with the delay for provisions, we had lost our momentum and needed to get back to the fight. But I filed that information away as a weakness I could exploit, provided I figured out the way to do it. Since the Freaks got smarter and more knowledgeable with each generation, they doubtless would be wary when it came to water.

“That doesn’t explain all the books … or your fancy knife work,” I pointed out.

Morrow seemed annoyed that I hadn’t been distracted by his eloquent descriptions. “You’re pushy, you know that?”

“I usually accomplish what I mean to.”

“The first adventure I ever went on didn’t lead me far from home,” he said. “But it was dangerous. See, on the other side of the river, we have ruins, similar to what I imagine Gotham is like. So I swam across to explore, and in my wandering, I ran across a building full of books, you can’t even imagine—”

“I can, actually. We found a place like that in Gotham. It’s called a library.”

“I know that,” Morrow said. “I suspected you didn’t.”

“I so enjoy it when people assume I’m stupid.”

He shook his head. “Not that, just very focused on killing.”

“Go on,” I prompted.

“I barely made it out … the ruins were crawling with Muties.” That sounded like a story I’d like to hear, and maybe it was even akin to Fade’s and mine. But I needed answers so that all the pieces added up, so I didn’t ask him to elaborate. Morrow went on, “I was in bad shape when I stumbled out of the river, and my father was livid. As soon as I recovered, he dragged me to a man in the village who was teaching his sons to fence, a family tradition. And my father insisted I learn. He said I had to be able to defend myself if I meant to take foolhardy risks.”

“You took to it,” I observed.

“Yes, well. I had the proper build and I like the elegance of it, though I enjoy the bloodshed less.”

“I’ve noticed. And the stories…?”

Morrow nodded, slightly annoyed with my impatience. “I couldn’t forget all those books … so I went to my father and I demanded the use of one of the boats. It took me weeks, but I recovered as many as I could and brought them to Rosemere. Now, we have the only library in the territories.”

“Books people can borrow anytime they want?” I asked, impressed by the notion.

“Yes. I’ve read more than anyone I know.” It wasn’t a boast, just a statement, and that explained much about him: why he was so in love with stories and so set on writing his own.

“Thanks for telling me. I think I’d like to visit Rosemere someday.”

“No offense, Deuce, but I hope you come as a traveler, not a Huntress.”

I smiled at that. “None taken. I don’t wish war or hardship on the only peaceful place in the territories. I just … I’d like to see something like that. That’s all.”

“I was wondering…” For the first time since I’d met him, Morrow seemed bashful. “You teased me but I’m recording all of our adventures. And someday, I’d like to hear your story in detail—everything you can remember from down below, what life was like, how you came to Salvation and then Soldier’s Pond.”

“Really?”

“Truly. I need your permission, though. It doesn’t seem right otherwise.”

“You have it,” I said.

Campaign

In addition to provisions, boots, and uniforms, we picked up forty more men, including Rex, before we left Soldier’s Pond. I heard her advisors haranguing Colonel Park as we marched past HQ, but there was nothing they could do, short of rummaging through each man’s pack.

This time, I was better equipped to provide for so many men and with warmer weather and better forage, the soldiers should stay healthy longer.

It hit me hard that I didn’t have Stalker as my scout leader anymore. He had handpicked the scouts according to some private criteria, and I missed his expertise. Morrow did his best, but he lacked my friend’s instincts. Their information was critical, however, so we all had to press on. I remembered what Colonel Park had said to me about structure, now that we were substantially larger than twelve men.

“Hold up. Tegan, Fade, Tully, Spence, Morrow, Thornton!” I called their names as soon as we left town, and they came over to see what I needed.

“I’ve looked to all of you repeatedly. It’s time to make it official. I talked to the colonel about rankings and she said a company as large as ours needs command infrastructure, so the men know who to talk to and who’s in charge.”

Thornton nodded. “I wondered when you would get around to it.”

“You didn’t see the need to clue me in?”

“Nope.”

I laughed. Though he was bigger and blunter than Longshot had been, sometimes Thornton reminded me of him. “You’re staff sergeant, and I’m putting you in charge of provisions. If we need something, let me know. If you see a soldier going without or who’s not taking care of his gear, tell me that too.”

“Does this mean I get to scream when I see infractions?”

“Yep,” I said, mimicking his delivery.

He actually cracked a smile. “Then thank you for that.”

“Tegan, I’m officially making you company medic. Keep an eye on the soldiers because they may not come forward if they’re feeling off. I know it’s a lot to ask because there’s so many of us now—”

“Do I get a fancy title?” she cut in pertly.

“Doc Tegan isn’t enough?”

She smiled. “No, it’ll do. And it’s nice to have my talents recognized.”

“I’m told I need a squad leader for every thirty men.” At that point, I looked at Fade, Tully, and Spence. “I’m dividing the men up between the three of you. You have more like sixty men each at this point, but we’ll have to make do.”

“You’re not taking a squad?” Tully asked.

I shook my head. “The colonel tells me that the captain—or whatever I am—has to be apart from keeping the peace like you three will. Should I have them count off?”

I studied the men standing in formation. At last, we looked like a proper army, no longer ragtag or mismatched, and with Gavin flying our banner proudly at the front of the column, a tremor of pride ran through me. Momma Oaks made this possible; she sewed until her fingers bled to get the uniforms done fast enough … because it was my dream. These men weren’t bound to any town; they all shared a single cause—to defeat the Freaks or die trying.

I did this.

I didn’t quit.

And I will not fail.

“That would be easiest,” Tully said, responding to my question.

I shouted for the men to sound off in threes. Once they finished, I called, “Squad one, if you need anything, see Fade. He is the boss of you. Any problems he can’t handle will be brought to me, and you do not want that.” Not a single soldier snickered, probably because I was borrowing Momma Oaks’s sternest voice. “Squad two, you’re with Tully. Threes, look to Spence. If we separate for any reason, these are the leaders you follow. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

“If you forget your number, you’ll dig latrines, even if we don’t need them. Questions?”

“No, sir!”

“Then let’s move out.”

Thus commenced the summer of blood. We fought Freaks from the other side of the forest all the way to Gaspard and back again. The men were brave, even the inexperienced ones. The battles ran together, day after day, while we kept the trade routes clear. Company D got proficient at packing up their gear to move on to the next fight; the last time, it took less than two minutes and I was counting.

Now and then I caught Rex eyeing me but I couldn’t read his expression. I treated him like everyone else, but I was happy to see him in one piece as time wore on. As for me, I had new scars and healing wounds, bruises on bruises from sleeping on the hard ground. I had seldom been so weary, but the Freaks never seemed to run out of bodies to throw at us. Each night, I dreamed of bloodshed and violence, of Freaks pillaging Soldier’s Pond, as they had Salvation and Appleton. We kept the wagons moving, but accomplished little else because the horde wasn’t stirring. Instead, they sent out hunting parties to test our abilities … and the survivors fled to report back with our scouts nipping at their heels.

The impasse made me nervous.

The days were hot and sticky; flies buzzed around the fields full of their dead. We burned the monsters when we could and left them to rot otherwise. I wished I could dream of Morrow’s stories about Rosemere, but my mind was a dark and awful place. Sometimes it seemed that the killing would never end, and because they could breed faster, reach fighting age sooner, I didn’t see a happy ending.

My naming day came and went unnoticed. This year, there were no sweets or presents, no party. Instead, I stood knee-deep in mud with a summer storm bearing down. The sky was all snaps of lightning, booming thunder, while my feet slid beneath me. It was hard to fight, tough to see with the rain sluicing through my plaits and into my eyes. But the weather didn’t deter the Freaks, so we stood our ground. This was the biggest hunting party yet, close to our number, and it horrified me that the enemy could send so many while the bulk of the horde squatted in Appleton. It seemed like such a horrendous waste, but maybe the monsters had some plan my human brain couldn’t fathom.

And that possibility scared the devil out of me.

I stabbed another, then another, its blood spilling away into the rain. My hands were cold, clumsy, and I lost my grip on the wet dagger. It sank into the mud; and I couldn’t kick with the earth sucking at my boots. Fade slid in with a smooth strike, saving me, and I lifted my head in a weary, silent thank-you. He dug out my dagger and we pushed forward to help the rest of the men, all bogged down and stumbling.

We lost sixteen soldiers that day.

For the sake of my men, I hid my despair over those deaths … and the increasing intelligence of our enemy. Because we were winning our fights, mostly, Company D’s spirits stayed fairly high as summer crept toward fall in a haze of multiple engagements. In the end, the scouts brought us dismal tidings as the days cooled again. The air was sweet with the scent of ripening apples; I had people in the trees, picking as many as they could carry. The last battle was two days behind us, and the men were ready to go again.

Sands delivered the worrisome news. “There’s movement in Appleton at last. I think the horde’s decided to engage.”

So while we fought like mad to hold our ground, they’d rested, fattened up, and tested our strength. Now they knew our strategies and were ready to crush us. And I was … out of ideas. I’d done everything I could think of to recruit enough men to face the monsters, and at the current count, we had slightly less than two hundred with recent losses. Even when Company D won, soldiers lost their lives.

“Then we have to pick the battlefield,” I said.

We set up camp by the river. We had come a fair ways west of Soldier’s Pond, and I checked the maps, locating landmarks we’d passed. Appleton lay to the southeast; if we marched toward the horde, there was forest we could use for cover, but it would be impossible to hide two hundred men as we’d done on a smaller scale. Therefore, that tactic wouldn’t work again. According to the routes, we were nearly to the Evergreen Isle. I tapped a finger against the paper, staring at it. There had to be a way to use the river against the horde.

Fade sat down beside me, looking as tired as I felt. Despite better provisions and good boots, life in the field took its toll, even in fair weather. He had to be tired of the lack of privacy and poor sanitary facilities, though men had it easier in a number of regards. Tully, Tegan, and I had complained more than once about how much more work it was for us while the male soldiers could urinate against a tree—and often did.

“Planning our next onslaught?” he asked with a half-smile.

There had been so little time to be with him … and I missed it. I ached from top to toes to be a girl as I had been in Salvation, all softness and smiles. For the first time in my life, I imagined hanging up my daggers in a place like Rosemere. I’d never seen it, but the way Morrow described it made me long to experience that peace for myself.

“I wish I could,” I said tiredly. I repeated what the scout had told me.

Fade laced our fingers together, and I remembered when that gesture required a mental pause. “You’ve done so much with relatively little.”

“It’s not enough. If we can’t break them, then it won’t matter what we’ve achieved.”

“Call the rest of the officers. Let’s figure it out over dinner.”

I bit back a sharp retort. There was no solution. The horde had too many for us to count, and even with our best fighters, they’d overwhelm us. I might be able to kill four or five, but the new men couldn’t. Once our boys started dying, others might break and run. So far, the battles had been against equal numbers, a tactic I suspected had been employed so the Freaks could inform their elders how we reacted. Or maybe their children. It made sense that young ones might be in power, devising strategies, while the elders served as grunts. If that was the case, then we could expect smarter countermoves in the future. This insight sank my spirits further.

But I couldn’t just ponder our inevitable defeat, so I invited the others to join us. They brought their stew, thickened with powdered hardtack, and gave us inquiring looks. In a few words, I shared all the details of the latest report. Part of me hoped they were smarter than me—Tegan definitely was … and probably Morrow; they might offer immediate suggestions.

Instead Morrow put down his plate and sighed. “Heroic stories aren’t supposed to end this way. The monsters never win.”

“No ideas?” Fade asked.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” I tilted my head at Morrow. “About how the Muties can’t swim. But I’m not sure how to use that.”

“We can’t fight in the river,” Tully said. “The current would drag us down too and make it hard to maneuver.”

“I wish there was a way to lure them into the water,” I muttered.

Spence grinned. “That would be a fantastic trick. But I don’t know if the river is big enough to drown that many monsters.”

“It would need to be the ocean,” Fade said.

“Somehow I doubt you’ll get the Muties to go along,” Tegan said.

Thornton had been quiet all this time. When he finally spoke, I hoped it meant he had something serious to contribute, as he wasn’t known for wasting words. “You might be onto something with that idea.”

“Drowning them?” I asked, doubtful.

“If we retreat to the big river to the west, we can fight with the water at our back. That means they can’t circle around behind us and if need be, we can swim for the island when they hit us in force.” He cut a look at Morrow, asking, “Would Rosemere welcome us? I know how your father feels about getting involved with outside affairs, but he’s never been known for turning away travelers.”

“Two hundred men is more than a few visitors,” Morrow said quietly.

“Your father runs Rosemere?” I asked.

“He’s the governor,” the storyteller answered, looking uncomfortable.

“Of the town?” Tegan looked fascinated.

“The whole island, but Rosemere is the only settlement.”

I pored over the map a second time, letting my dinner get cold and finally said, “I can’t find better terrain to face them. Water at our back is the best we can do.”

Tegan nodded. “I’ll go ask the men if they know how to swim.”

Tribulation

The horde found us before we reached the river.

Stalker’s scouts carried the warning that saved us. Though Company D was full of brave men and women, we couldn’t beat the enemy at ten to one odds. I called the retreat at the top of my lungs, Morrow echoed it on his pipes, then we ran for our lives. It wasn’t brave; it wasn’t glorious. But with two thousand monsters snarling, less than half a mile behind us, I did what was necessary to keep my soldiers alive.

Last night, we’d considered a last stand here, but when I saw their sheer number sweeping down toward us, I made a snap decision. There would be no battle against terrible odds; I wouldn’t give my men’s lives away. When we faced the horde, it would be on my terms. Rosemere represented safety, and while the horde was here, stymied by the river, they wouldn’t be attacking any other settlements.

“Move!” I shouted. “Gavin, leave the banner if you must. Just get across!”

“I will not,” the boy called back.

He was as stubborn as I had been, thinking that compromise was the same as losing. The Winterville brat waded into the water and hung on to the pole with one arm. Shaking my head, I watched him paddle. The current was swift, and I fought fear and despair that the water would drown half my forces. Still, they preferred that fate to being torn apart by monsters that intended to eat them, so Company D pushed on. My officers and I held the line on the shore, braced for the worst. I met Fade’s eyes and he smiled, like the memory of my face was all he needed to steel him for the long walk.

Deliberately I crossed to him and whispered, “With my partner beside me, I fear nothing, not even death.”

His answering look felt like a kiss. Behind us, men waded into the water, the monsters were nearly on us—and I felt the breeze from their snapping teeth and raking claws as I dove.

I’d never learned to swim.

Like the men struggling ahead of me, I preferred to choose my fate. I mimicked the motions of those who looked like they knew what they were doing, using my hands and feet to paddle, but the current sucked me under. The river hated me; it dashed me against the rocks and cast me back up again to torment me with a gasp of breath, only to pull me under again. My vision went dark, and I knew no more.

I didn’t expect to see the world again, but I was on the opposite shore when I awoke with Fade pounding on my chest. A gasp, a splutter, and I vomited up half the river in a retching gush, then I fell back onto the damp dirt, curling my fingers in it. I hadn’t expected to make it. Shakily, I pulled myself up and spotted Tegan circulating among the men. I couldn’t tell yet how many had made the swim, but it seemed like a fair number.

Fade pulled me into his arms; he was sopping wet, shaking, but not with cold as the sun shone bright overhead. The island was close enough to the bank that I could see distant Freaks over his shoulder. They came a few steps into the water and then retreated with bared teeth. They wouldn’t survive the crossing. If only they were stupid enough to drown themselves chasing us, that would solve our problems without the need for more dying on our part. But the monsters had become a clever, inexorable enemy, and their destruction wouldn’t come so easily.

“How many did we lose?” I gasped.

“Twenty-two,” Tegan said gently.

The officers arranged themselves around us, then Thornton said, “Some of them might wash up farther down.”

I caught Morrow’s eye and he shook his head. He was an island native, and he knew the currents. If he believed it unlikely, then I had to be realistic and count the men lost. Breathing hurt, probably from all the water I swallowed, but also from getting my soldiers killed.

“Find out their names,” I told the storyteller. “Write them down. I want to be able to tell their families where they fell.”

He got out his journal, wrapped in a treated cloth, and it was mostly dry when he opened it. “I’ll get started right away.”

“Before you go,” I added, “how far are we from Rosemere?”

“It’s a few miles to the east, all forest. I’d keep to the shore. As long as we do, you can’t miss the village. It’s built for fishing and sailing. If you catch a boatman on a good day, he’ll carry you up the coast to settlements that aren’t even on your maps.”

Tegan brightened, her eyes sharp with what I’d come to think of as her hungry-for-knowledge expression. “Would you take me, sometime?”

“Someday,” he agreed, moving off to fulfill my request.

I addressed Tully, Thornton, and Spence. “Tell the men to dry off and rest up. I want them all in solid shape before we look for the village.”

“Understood.”

Before moving off, Tully put her hand on my shoulder. “Glad we didn’t lose you.”

Against my ear, Fade made a sound of inexpressible pain. “Me too. You should’ve told me you can’t swim!”

“When would I have learned?” I asked quietly.

He seemed to consider the question, sorting through what he knew of my past. Then he sighed and rubbed his cool cheek against mine. “I should’ve stayed close to you. When you went under, my life ended. I don’t think I breathed until you did.”

“You can live without me,” I said.

“I don’t want to.”

I feared a love like this—that made us incomplete without each other. It was beautiful but treacherous, like snow that looked white and pure and lovely from the safety of your window, but when you stepped out to touch the softness, the cold first stole your breath, and then your will to move, until you could just lay down in it and let the numbness take you. Yet I didn’t want to be without him either, so I didn’t chide him for the statement. After all, I’d braved the horde to bring him back, even if Fade had believed he was broken beyond fixing.

He kissed me then in front of everyone, and I didn’t mind at all. I lost myself in his arms and his lips, his heat and his presence. This man was everything I needed, my best and brightest dream. He tangled his hands in my hair, and I dug my fingers into his shoulders without thinking.

“Sorry. I forgot—”

Fade pressed two fingers to my mouth. “Stop. There is nothing I want more than your hands on me, anywhere you care to put them.”

“Maybe you want to save that for later,” Spence observed.

Heat suffused my cheeks, and I buried my face in Fade’s chest as the men laughed. In an hour or so, the soldiers recovered enough to move and Morrow completed his census. He took down all the names of the fallen and showed them to me. After the war ended, if I survived, I would take this paper to all the towns across the territories and inform their families myself. It was the least I could do.

“Thank you,” I said to the storyteller. “Can you lead the way to Rosemere?”

The storyteller nodded.

“What will your father say when he sees you?” Tegan asked.

“‘James, what have you done now?’”

I smiled at Morrow’s answer.

The trip took two hours, according to Fade’s watch, which had survived the river and was still keeping time. Morrow was right, I thought. It’s beautiful here. Of the Evergreen Isle, I could honestly say I had never seen a more tranquil place, though part of that came from knowing no Freak had ever set foot here. I wondered if all islands were the same, havens of safety that the monsters couldn’t reach. Pale, raucous birds dove after fish and insects along the rocky coast, which gave way to dense and mysterious forest farther inland. We came around a curve to find Rosemere perched like a perfect secret.

The village stole my breath; my chest ached in a way that I experienced only when I looked at Fade. Just as Morrow had described, the place was pure beauty, neat cottages with flowers growing in boxes beneath the windows. The roofs were painted tiles in colorful contrast to the milky stone of the cottages. Though the buildings weren’t tall, they had a sweetness I couldn’t explain, as if they beckoned me to come explore the tidy cobbled streets and see the shops and markets. Everything the storyteller had said was true.

In the streets, people greeted us with friendly smiles. Many of them had coppery skin, more like Tegan’s, though that could be a result of the sunshine. Their hair came in all shades from fair to dark, and the women favored head scarves and baggy trousers wrapped multiple times around their hips. Here, the men treated the women with respect, but I heard no deference on either side as they greeted one another. There were no fences or gates or bars; the river kept these people safe. At the far end of the village, I saw the dock Morrow had mentioned with boats tied and bobbing in the current. Farther on, there was a grist mill for turning grain into flour and a long rectangular shop that the storyteller had said was for building boats.

“It’s incredible,” Tegan breathed.

She spoke for all of us. The tired faces of the men around me reflected the same wonder. I had never seen a place before that was so bright and full of joy, so utterly without fear. In a small, scared corner of my mind, I wondered if we were all dead and in a better place, as Momma Oaks believed.

“Head for the market,” Morrow said, pointing. “It’s straight down that way. I need to find my father and arrange accommodations. We have an inn for travelers, but it’s not big enough to house everyone.”

“You heard the man.”

I led the way and the villagers seemed interested to see so many armed soldiers marching through their square, but not alarmed by it, possibly because they recognized Morrow. If not, they were the last trusting souls left in the world, and I would die happily to protect them. Along the way, Company D took in the sights, and I felt overwhelmed. It was so hard to imagine that the end of everything was camped across the river.

Down the street, the market was busy and colorful with stalls selling all manner of things. The vendors brightened when they spotted us; they’d be disappointed when they discovered we had no local currency. But we all enjoyed examining what they had to sell: grilled fish folded in flat bread, wood and bone carvings, hooks that I imagined were best used for fishing, bolts of fabric dyed in bold, bright patterns, ready-made clothes and shoes. The thing I noticed first—there were no weapons, just knives I guessed were used for eating.

What’s it like to be born in a place where the people don’t need to be armed?

I understood more about Morrow’s odd fighting style, why it seemed more ceremonial and graceful than the purposeful killing the rest of us had learned. He came from a village where they fought for sport and to show athletic prowess, not for their lives. It was a distinction I’d never conceived until this moment.

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Tully’s normally hard expression gave way to awe as she gazed around. I couldn’t ever remember seeing her without her lips pulled into a taut line, expecting the worst. But she was smiling now.

“We could just stay,” Spence whispered.

I wished the thought hadn’t occurred to me too. We could all be happy here, and the island was big enough that the village could expand. Trees could be felled to make room and Morrow had told me there was a quarry on the far end of the island where they dug their stones for the cottages. We could all plant gardens and fish in the river, learn to build boats and carve things out of wood and paint the clay tiles on our houses.

But Tully was a stronger woman than I was. She shook her head. “I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it, knowing I let everyone else die. I’m in this fight to the end.”

With those words, she sealed my fate. I turned to find Fade watching me. He read the renewed commitment in my eyes, and for a few seconds, sorrow darkened his. Sometimes I suspected he wished I would turn away, choose a different path, but like Tully, it would haunt me if I just gave up. Momma Oaks and Edmund were in Soldier’s Pond; they had given me a home in Salvation, and I wouldn’t rest until I could offer them the same.

Aloud, Fade only said, “It’s beautiful here.”

I nodded.

And when Morrow returned with his father, a lean older man with gray-shot dark hair and silver temples, I said softly, “I will never understand why you left.”

Reunion

The logistics took several hours to sort out.

First Morrow introduced us to his father, Geoffrey, the governor of the Evergreen Isle. Then there were a number of pertinent questions, like, “What the devil do you mean by arriving with a small army?”

At that point, I explained about the horde on the other side of the river and the governor paled. “You brought them here?”

“Not on purpose,” Morrow said. “But they would have come eventually, Father. Somehow I don’t think you want to be the last settlement standing.”

“Not at all,” his father said soberly.

The older man sprang into action then, organizing the hospitality for his unexpected guests. He sent runners all through the village, seeking volunteers to host a soldier or two. Soon the replies came back positive. So many people were willing to help, no questions asked, and it told me I was right about the spirit of this place. When the families came to show the men to their temporary homes, they glanced at me for permission.

“Go ahead. I’ll send a message if I need you to assemble.”

One of the men asked, “Should we treat this as leave time, captain?”

I nodded. “That’s fine. Be respectful to the locals.”

It was an unnecessary request; Company D was full of honorable soldiers, who would remember their manners and be thankful for the kindness offered. Before I got my house assignment, however, Fade stepped closer, making it clear we wouldn’t be separated. Tully and Spence had the same idea, and I think Morrow wished Tegan would look at him the same way, but she had wandered off to admire the bone carvings at a nearby stall. I went over to see what had caught her eye and Fade followed, a quiet shadow at my back.

“It’s called scrimshaw,” the vendor informed her. “My daddy taught me, his before, and so on. We’ve been working at this craft for a long time.”

Tegan touched a gracefully carved spine. “What is this?”

“It’s a dolphin, miss. You find them in the open sea. In good weather, the sailors head that way.” The man leaned forward in a confiding manner. “I went on a whaling voyage once. Never was so scared in all my life.”

“I’d love to see it all someday,” she said dreamily.

That was where she differed from me. With this war behind us, I could see myself happy here and never wanting anything more. But Tegan had a big, hungry mind that soaked life in like a sponge. She was the smartest person I’d ever met … and one of the strongest. She was also pretty as a spring day with her dark hair and coppery skin, her big brown eyes and her sweet smile. The vendor was clearly charmed as he pressed the carved bone dolphin into her hands.

“It’s a gift. Keep it.”

“I couldn’t.” But her fingers were already curving around the pretty thing.

“She has great skill at doctoring,” I told the man. “If you need any help while we’re here, she’ll be glad to tend you or your loved ones.”

Tegan gave a grateful nod. I knew her well enough to understand that she’d love to keep the carving, but she didn’t feel right about offering nothing in return. This let her salvage her pride and for the vendor to enjoy the generosity of his gesture. I stepped away from the stall to let them continue their conversation, and as I moved off, I heard her asking about whales.

A few minutes more wouldn’t hurt anything, I decided. So I passed among the stalls, admiring the shiny items. One woman made adornments like the necklace I had borrowed from Momma Oaks—and all of them glimmered in the sun. I touched a short coil of silver wire, interspersed with brilliant stones.

“That’s a beautiful bracelet,” the vendor noted. “It would look lovely on you.”

Fade murmured agreement, something about it being perfect for my wrist. That was his way of telling me what I was supposed to do with it; I didn’t know whether he’d noticed my weakness for sparkly things. I smiled, aware I had no chits to buy it. But I wanted to. Quietly wishing I could, I turned away to find the governor, as I’d wandered off before he could tell Fade and me where we’d be sleeping. My clothes were sticky and uncomfortable, and I hoped our hosts would be kind enough to let me bathe. It was surprising how awful river water felt, drying inside your shirt. From across the market, someone shouted my name.

I knew that voice—knew it—but it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t. I broke away from Fade on a burst of impossible hope. I shoved through the crowd, running, because I heard it again.

“Deuce. Deuce!”

Then I saw him. Stone was tan, like the rest of Rosemere, and his shoulders seemed even broader. He carried a small boy on them, striding toward me with an eager expression. In the Rosemere sunlight, his blue eyes shone brighter, contrasting with his mop of brown hair. Carefully, he set the brat down and then he swept me into a tight hug, smashing all the breath out of me. He’d always been as exuberant as a puppy, unconscious of his own strength.

Telling the boy, “Don’t move, Robin,” he spun me around until the market was a blur around me, just movement and color and my stomach felt sick, but on top of everything, I knew only the fiercest and most incredible joy, as if a secret wish had come true.

“Is Thimble with you?” I asked, hardly daring to hope. She’d been one of my closest friends in the enclave, a Builder who was always inventing clever things.

Stone nodded. “She’s at home. I came to offer our loft when I heard there were soldiers in need of shelter. I never dreamed I’d be lucky enough to find you.”

He let me go long enough to pick up the boy gazing up at me with huge blue eyes. Close up, I noticed the resemblance to my brat-mate, who had been a Breeder down below. “Yours?”

Stone’s look turned shy as he cradled the child closer. “Yes.”

“How in the world did you end up here?” I wondered aloud.

“It’s quite a story, an adventure you might even say.” His handsome face turned serious. “Along the way I wasn’t sure we’d survive, but Thimble always figured it out. I’ll tell you everything over supper.”

Beside me, Fade cleared his throat, glancing between Stone and me. He didn’t say more, but I heard the unspoken question. Am I invited to this party? If he wasn’t, then I wouldn’t be going either.

“Do you remember Fade?”

“Of course. I don’t know if we ever talked down below.” Stone offered his hand, Topsider fashion, and they shook. “I’m Deuce’s friend. Or I was. I’m not sure how she feels about me now. I’ve figured she must hate me and wish me dead, if she survived.”

The pain and anger of his betrayal felt like a long time ago. So I joked, “If I’d known you were this resourceful, I’d have let you take your own punishment.”

He flinched. “I know. I’ve been wishing all this time that I could explain … and say I’m sorry. Come with me and give me that chance?”

“That sounds good,” I said.

I felt oddly lighthearted as I followed my old friend through Rosemere. Along the way, he greeted the villagers, and a number of them had small gifts and smiles for the boy, who alternately giggled and tucked his face against Stone’s shoulder. He acted more like I’d seen topside sires behave with their brats than anything we’d learned down below, which meant he was better at adapting to circumstances than I had believed. Clearly I hadn’t given him enough credit when I martyred myself, thinking I was the only one strong enough to survive the exile.

More hubris, Mrs. James would say.

Stone and Thimble’s cottage was perfect, snug and small, built of the stone they quarried on the island and framed in raw timbers. Their roof was painted mossy green in contrast to the copper of their neighbors, and the front door stood open with my dear friend in the doorway. When she saw me, she dropped the box of tools she was holding and ran. Either her foot was better or she had crafted something to make it appear so because I hardly noticed her limp. We hugged tight and long; and the sun itself seemed to shine brighter, glowing on the white petals of the flowers growing in her window box.

“How?” she demanded. Then she seemed to think better of the question as she let go of me. “Food, first, I think, then explanations.”

Thimble looked more mature in her tidy brown skirt and white blouse. She wore an apron to protect it from whatever she had been working on. With busy hands, she beckoned us into the cool shade of the cottage. I came first, Fade next, and then Stone with the brat. Inside, there were wooden chairs with brightly sewn cushions and a sturdy table, a box full of toys near the door. A ladder stretched to the loft they had promised while a doorway led to the back of the house. There was a fireplace for cooking, and windows cut on either side to let in the light. Shutters would protect them from the elements. For a few seconds, I just admired their home.

While she hurried around setting crocks on the table, Stone performed the introductions, in case Thimble and Fade didn’t remember each other. Then I said, “Is there someplace we can clean up? The river isn’t as refreshing as it looks.”

“I should’ve offered,” Stone answered, handing his brat to Thimble.

He led us to a washhouse out back, where Fade and I tidied up. Afterward, we enjoyed their hospitality, the best meal I’d eaten in weeks. Thimble fed us soft cheese and dark bread, fried fish and sliced apples, fresh greens and chopped nuts. Fade and I tried not to be greedy, but after field rations for weeks, we quietly accepted seconds and thirds. As we ate, I told our story and explained how we’d arrived in Rosemere. They were interested in everything Fade and I had to say and concerned about the horde. But with the river as a buffer, the immediate danger seemed remote.

“I suppose it’s our turn,” Thimble said, once I finished talking.

Stone covered my hand with his, tentative, as if he expected me to pull away. I didn’t. “Me first. You gave up everything for me, and I let you leave thinking I blamed you. I’m so sorry, Deuce. You have no idea how much.”

I set down my spoon. “It would help if I knew why.”

“Robin,” Stone said.

The brat glanced up from his place on the floor, where he was stacking wooden blocks. “Yes, Da?”

“He’s why. I wasn’t supposed to pay attention to him after I did my part, but I always knew he was mine. And I loved him. When they said I was guilty of hoarding, I could only think that I’d never see him grow up, never be there for his naming day, and I would’ve done anything to stay with him … even let a friend suffer in my place.”

Thimble picked up the story, seeming to sense that Stone wanted her to. “And we were both frightened of what was happening in the enclave. We hoped we’d escape reprisal if we pretended to condemn you along with everyone else. It was … cowardly. I’m sorry too.”

“Did it work?” Fade asked coldly.

I had never seen such sorrow in my friend’s eyes as she shook her head. Then she told us of the massacre down below—how my exile, along with Banner’s death—led to open insurrection. Silk put down the rebels, but by that time, it was too late, and the Freaks took advantage of the weakness and disorder to sack College as they had Nassau. She shared the rest of their tale then; after she laid the traps and Stone played bait, they escaped to an old-world shelter, accessible through the tunnels. For a time, they stayed there, letting Thimble’s foot heal and Robin recover from the ordeal. He seemed like a happy brat, so it must’ve worked.

“That was when we named him,” Stone concluded. “I didn’t want to wait until he was older. That seems like you’re asking the world to take your child away.”

Pain blazed through me when I thought of Twist and Girl26. I’d left people behind, and until this moment, I’d tried not to remember them. Looking at Stone and Thimble, I couldn’t help it. “What happened to Twist?”

Stone bent his head. “He fell in the initial fighting. Hunters cut him down.”

That seemed worse than dying to Freaks. For a moment, I remembered the small, weak Builder, who had saved our lives by providing forbidden supplies. We were supposed to leave with no food, no water, but unlike the others, Twist hadn’t been so cruel. Without him, Fade and I wouldn’t be here … and our benefactor was gone.

“Were there any other survivors?” Fade asked.

“I heard some as we were leaving, but we couldn’t save them,” Stone answered. “I was afraid a larger group would draw too much attention.”

Thimble’s expression hardened. “They didn’t help when the Freaks were chasing you. They hid and cried. If not for my traps and your speed, we’d be nothing but bones by now.”

“So others might have made it out,” I said.

“Maybe.” Stone shrugged as if he didn’t care.

I shouldn’t, but Girl26 had no say in how the elders had run the enclave. So I clung to the possibility that she was like Fade—that she’d hidden from the Freaks and crept away quietly. To what, I didn’t know, as by then, the ruins were likely overrun, but a smart girl might find a way to survive, as Thimble had proven.

“So how did you get from the shelter to Rosemere?” Fade wondered.

I was curious too. Thimble was clever and Stone was strong, but neither had any experience defending themselves, so I couldn’t believe they’d made such a long journey. Yet here they were in their own cottage, settled in the prettiest village I’d ever seen.

Stone took up the story. “Eventually the tinned food ran low and we felt strong enough to venture out. So we climbed up. Topside couldn’t be worse than darkness and filth, we thought.”

“It was so bright,” Thimble said, remembering. “It hurt my eyes, and I was so scared.”

With easy affection, Stone scooped her into his lap. “We both were. For a time, we wandered and hid. I killed birds and we ate them raw. There were packs of Freaks fighting humans, most of whom wore the same colors.”

“The gangs,” Fade guessed.

Stone continued without prompting. “Eventually we went into a building and Thimble found a useful paper. A map,” he added, as the word came to him.

“I knew we needed fresh water, so I guided us toward the blue on the page. And that was when we saw the boatmen.” Thimble smiled in recollection; and I grasped how relieved they must’ve been with food scarce, a brat depending on them, and the ruins alight with violence.

Fade touched my hand. We’d gone to the water too, but there were no boats bobbing on the waves. If we had come earlier—or later—our path might’ve been so different. But maybe our journey happened as it was supposed to, so I could meet my new family and learn to love Fade as he deserved.

Stone said, “I called out and the fisherman heard me. He told me he couldn’t risk the shallows … and that I’d have to swim to him. So I put Robin on my back and got into the water.”

A shiver rolled through me. “It’s a miracle you survived.”

“Only because of Thimble. She found a piece of driftwood and called me back. We used it to float out to the boat, and then we sailed with them up the coast and down the river to Rosemere. They promised us it was safe—”

“And we’ve been here ever since,” she finished.

“That’s quite a story,” Fade said.

“It’s the best kind,” Stone told us, smiling. “Because it has a happy ending.”

And I brought the monsters here.

Unprecedented

After dinner, I stepped outside to clear my head. Fade was eating another slice of Thimble’s honey cake, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the evil on the other side of the river. Stone and Thimble’s story was incredible, and I envied the happiness they’d found in Rosemere. I was tired of killing; I wanted to build too.

“Wait,” Stone called from the doorway.

It was dark by then, moonlight shining down. “I won’t go far. And I’ll be back soon.”

“No … before you go, please say you forgive me, Deuce.”

Such a small thing. “Of course. You love Robin so much … and that’s the way a sire should feel about his son. I’ve come to realize that the enclave was backward in so many ways.”

He hugged me tight. “Thank you.”

“Tell Fade and Thimble I’ll be back soon.”

“I will. It’s safe here, so feel free to explore.”

My head whirling, I walked through town, admiring the pretty cobbled streets and the lamps that lit them. Morrow had been right. This was the most peaceful place, and you could see it in the children’s faces as they played. They didn’t know how it felt to be hungry or frightened.

I want the world to look this way … or at least the whole of the territories.

My path led me down to the sturdy pier, where the boats were moored. Men fearlessly sailed up and down the river, casting their nets. During the day, the area was full of fresh fish and people arguing about its worth. By night, however, it was quiet, so I was unprepared for the touch on my shoulder. Reflex took over; as I whirled, I drew my knives and dodged back a step.

In the moonlight, I made out only a shadowy, hooded figure. It was impossible to glimpse his features, but when he spoke, shivers of dread ran over my skin. “You’re the Huntress.”

I had heard Freaks rasp out words before, but never with such fluency. Their voices always sounded broken and garbled, as though it hurt them to speak our tongue. But this … how can he be here? My thoughts scattered like frightened fish. At this point, terror should grip me fully, but numbness crept over me instead. My hands trembled and sweat beaded on my brow, but I couldn’t let him have the upper hand.

So I feigned calm. “I am. Push back your cowl so I can see you.”

He moved slowly, but as he did, his sleeves fell back to reveal gray skin and taloned hands. Starlight illuminated sharp, savage features. His eyes were inhuman, glowing amber-gold like a cat’s. He might even see in the dark better than me, possibly part of their continued evolution. He appeared young, his body lean and strong.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

Outwardly I displayed anger, but I was quaking inside. If the monsters had worked out how to cross the water and were mounting an invasion, I couldn’t bear it. Company D had scattered with my permission; I’d thought it best to give them a few days of peace while I decided what to do about the two thousand Freaks camped across the river. But now I had no way to summon them fast enough to defend Rosemere, should that become necessary.

“I came to talk,” the Freak said.

My grip slipped on my knives. Given my history against these monsters, I’d expected this was an assassination attempt, but if it had been, he could have ripped out my spine from behind. Touching me to alert me to his presence ran completely counter to any hostile aim. Since coming topside, the skills I’d learned as a Huntress down below had served me well—and despite my misgivings, I sensed this Freak was different from the rest, mostly because he chose words over violence. His fluency with our language also marked him as special, and I’d regret it if I didn’t find out what he wanted. Hands shaking, I sheathed my blades. Maybe this was madness, but I’d hear him out.

“I can be armed again in two seconds,” I warned.

“Your speed is well-known to us, Deuce the Huntress.”

“How did you find me?” I was proud of how steady my voice sounded, as if he weren’t turning my world upside down with each moment we stood with the river flowing behind us in the moonlight.

“We followed your banner. It, too, is well-known.”

Momma Oaks would be pleased to hear it. Gavin had kept the pennant safe through summer and fall, until the Freaks recognized it and charged in rage … or avoided us, depending on their goals and allegiances. I had so many questions, but they wouldn’t coalesce in my brain. Conflicting emotions warred for dominance, leaving me dull.

“I thought your kind couldn’t swim,” I managed to say, as fear rushed in.

If these Freaks had found a way across the river, it couldn’t be long before the horde followed. Rosemere would be decimated. Sickness roiled in my stomach, churning the rich food I’d eaten moments before at Stone and Thimble’s table. I had to think of a way out of this mess, and there was nobody here to help, just my inadequate wits against endless weight.

“No,” he replied. “But we can build.”

That is not good news.

“Boats, you mean?”

He inclined his head. “They are not so fine as yours, but they suffice.”

Now I pictured them lashing logs together—as we had for the primitive town we built in the forest—constructing rafts that would carry them across the river. Please don’t let the horde have seen them. They don’t need any help to destroy us. Taking a deep breath, I reined my dread.

“Say your piece quickly.”

I can’t believe I’m not attacking this strange creature.

“I am Szarok. In your tongue this roughly means He Who Dreams.”

Astonishment stilled me for a few seconds. I’d never imagined that Freaks named their brats or that their language could translate with such elegance. Before this moment, I saw them only as monsters to be destroyed at all costs. Cold prickles crept up my spine as I considered how many of Szarok’s brethren I had slain.

“You speak it well,” I whispered.

He acknowledged the compliment with what I’d take for a smile in a human face. “I studied. I learned. This is the way of the young.”

“Why? Killing us is your favorite pastime.”

“No. This is all our forefathers know because they remember too much about the hate and pain of their creation. But the lastborn see farther. We have memories of kindness.”

“Kindness?” I asked.

“Will you take my hand, Huntress?”

I couldn’t credit how peculiar this seemed. If this was a trap, it was too bizarre for me to fathom. Maybe this creature knew it couldn’t defeat me in a fight, and it had some new trick in mind, some new ability I’d never seen, like venomous skin. Yet I heard Tegan whispering in my ear, as if she were standing here. She had become the new voice in my head, replacing Silk.

Trust has to begin somewhere. For peace to take hold, one person must first stop fighting.

I pushed out a shuddering breath. “Go ahead.”

Szarok’s hand was strong and warm. The claws prickled as he wrapped his fingers around my wrist. Impressions flickered through my mind; I had nothing to compare it to, but I saw a young Freak wounded and near death. A child in Otterburn tended it; she was too small to understand they were enemies. She saw only pain, not ugliness, and she healed the creature. And that beast fathered Szarok. I saw the connection in blood and bone, and I realized he could spin these memories in his mind, just as Dr. Wilson had predicted.

When he let me go, I reeled back, not in hurt but wonder. “What’s it like to be able to trace your path back so far?”

“Beautiful. And ugly. The world is always both.”

Those words resonated with me. “It is. Are the memories you carry from your forefathers always that sharp and clear? Can you call them at will?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s blessing and curse, I think, as you can see in the old ones. They cannot forget or forgive. They cannot move past the pain.”

I imagined the mad jumble of images the Freaks in the horde stored in their heads, marching all the way back to their human origins. No wonder they hated us. People never raged so hard as against the flaws they perceived in themselves. The feral Freaks weren’t smart enough to understand their instinctive antipathy, but I did. And it saddened me.

“You said your name means He Who Dreams. So tell me yours, Szarok.”

“I dream of peace … and a world where neither side judges the other by their skins.”

It sounded like a worthy goal, if an improbable one. “What did you have in mind?”

“An alliance.”

I gaped at him, as that was possibly the most startling statement in a night already fraught with more shocks than I could process. “You can’t be serious.”

“We’ve spent the last year keeping the horde in check, Huntress, arguing with them about the wisdom of their course.” He leaned forward, seeming skilled at reading my reactions. “You didn’t avoid them out of luck; my clan is why they stayed in Appleton so long, sending only a portion of their strength against you. But the old ones will listen no longer. Most have less than three years left, but before they die, they will wipe your kind from the territories. There’s no time for peace to flourish as it will. We must make it so.”

That explains so much. But Company D would never accept this. “I don’t think—”

But Szarok made an impatient gesture, one familiar to me from other angry men. In that instant, I saw him as a person, not a monster. “Do you think this is easy? We must join our hated enemies to slay our mothers and fathers. But this is the only path. They cannot stop killing, so we must make them.”

“Are you so sure I can be trusted?” I had murdered an awful lot of his people, after all.

“You kept to the terms of our agreement before.”

Just when I thought I couldn’t be more surprised, he produced another shock. “The emissary came from you? When we fought in the woods near Soldier’s Pond?”

“It was my suggestion to see if you were open to peace,” he admitted. “Many tribes met and discussed the best way to handle your war band. My clan has always been opposed to human extinction … and we didn’t want to make livestock of you, either, unlike some. After the slaughter at Appleton, I proposed many solutions but the old ones would hear none. And so the young split from the horde. Tonight, I offer you five hundred warriors willing to die because one of your people was kind. Can you say the same?”

I started to say I’d never met a gentle Freak, but then I realized I was looking at one. The pain he must feel at betraying his own people to make the world a better place … I understood it, because I was facing the same dilemma. Company D would see this alliance as perfidious, and they might hate me for it.

I hesitated, seeing the unmistakable benefit, but unsure if I could make it work. “I have less than two hundred men. Even if we join forces, it seems like a lost cause.”

“Other allies will come,” he said mysteriously.

“Who?”

“I will tell you nothing further until you agree to my terms. My men are camped on the far end of the isle. Meet them … and decide if, together, we can make the world better. That’s what the young Uroch want.”

“Uroch?” I repeated. “Who…?”

Szarok seemed to grasp what I was asking. “It means the ‘People’ and it applies to my clan, those willing to fight our kin to end this war.” He paused, as if weighing whether he should say more. “That’s why I’m willing to work with you. We can learn from one another.”

How astonishing. I marveled at the complexity I had never imagined—that Szarok’s tribe had a name. At that point, I suspected I must be dreaming—to hear him echo my own desires when I’d killed so many of his brethren. For peace to begin, someone must lay his weapons down. But that was a choice the Huntress could never make. My whole body trembled; the risks were so high and this could be the biggest—and last—mistake of my life.

“You could be leading me into a trap,” I said.

Szarok tilted his head in challenge. “And you could call down the whole village upon me. Yet you have not.”

When the enemy chooses to talk instead of fight, only a fool rejects the overture.

In my mind’s eye, I touched two fingers to my brow in a farewell salute to the merciless warrior they’d trained me to be, down below. I wasn’t a Huntress, not even close. I’d chart a new course from here, guided by the gentleness I’d learned from Tegan and Momma Oaks.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No!” To my astonishment, my brother, Rex, ran down the dock toward us, knife drawn. “I was waiting for you to gut this lying monster. Don’t trust it!”

“What are you doing here?” I asked softly.

Szarok stilled but he didn’t take hostile action. From what I could tell, he was leaving this complication in my hands. In the taut silence, broken only by the rush of the river behind us, I waited for Rex’s reply.

He burst out, “I had some ideas about how to handle the horde, and I came looking for you. When you went walking after dark, I followed, thinking I’d get to play the protective big brother for a change. And it’s a good thing too. I never dreamed you could be so gullible. When he delivers you to the horde, Company D will surrender. The war will be lost.”

Rex lunged then, and I threw myself between Szarok and my brother. He glared at me, knife upraised. “Get out of my way, Deuce. I vowed to kill every last one of these bastards for what they did to Ruth.”

I shook my head, desperate. “Don’t. Ruth wouldn’t want this. It’s wrong to blame him for what someone else did. You wouldn’t hold all men accountable for the crimes of one.”

Rex snarled, “But this isn’t a man. It’s a monster.”

Szarok said softly, “You hold a knife poised to strike your sister down, beloved of your mother and father. Who is the monster here?”

My brother stumbled back with a cry of horror, the blade falling from his fingers to clatter on the ground. I hugged him tight and he was shaking. Over and over, he whispered, “What, what have I become?”

For long moments I held him and Szarok was wise or kind enough to hold his peace. Eventually Rex stepped back, picked up his blade, and sheathed it. “I’m sorry. That was madness. But … I won’t let you do this thing alone.”

I glanced at Szarok in silent inquiry, and he responded, “If your brother can promise civilized behavior, I have no objection to two visitors in our camp.”

It went unspoken why; he had five hundred warriors on the Evergreen Isle, and if we proved aggressive, it would be easy to dispose of us. And any misbehavior on our part might result in death sweeping down on an unsuspecting Rosemere. On its own, that was more than enough to keep me in line, but I believed Szarok’s offer was sincere. He had not come lightly to the decision to fight his own people.

As we left, I whispered to my brother, “You seem to be taking his eloquence awfully well. I’d expect you to be more shocked.”

Rex aimed a rueful look at me. “I was, at first. But remember, I was listening to you two for a while, before I stepped in.”

It took most of the night to reach the western corner of the isle. As we approached, I spotted multiple campfires, small enough that they wouldn’t draw attention. Out here I detected only the wet silt scent of the river and the crushed pine aroma from the bed of needles where the Uroch camped, along with smoky wood. Szarok led us through his soldiers with complete confidence, and though they stared, none of them moved toward us. Fear quaked through me; I’d never been so close to my enemies with no defensive measures in place. Memories of my flight through the horde threatened to drown me.

“You see,” he said when we reached his fire, tended by a young Uroch. “They fear you, for you have killed so many of their mothers and fathers, but they will not harm you. We want the same thing.”

“A better world,” Rex said.

I was flummoxed by the idea that these powerful creatures feared me. Was I the terrible story that Uroch mothers told to their brats in order to persuade them to behave? I sank to my knees, unnerved by the way the world had spun tonight.

I don’t want to be the monster that haunts a child’s sleep. A small voice added, And neither do they.

Szarok nodded. “Do you wish to converse with them? A few speak your tongue as I do.”

Freezing, I had an awful thought. “My man was taken a while back, treated like an animal, and he suffered greatly. Did you learn our language from human captives?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “A number of the old ones saw humanity as a useful food source. We argued, but when only a small minority supports your view, you cannot always stop awful things from happening.”

That, I understood too well. With a pang of regret, I recalled the blind brat Fade and I had let the Hunters kill down below. “You didn’t answer my question, though.”

Sidestepped it, at best.

“They weren’t captives when they taught us,” Szarok said.

“You freed some human hostages?” Rex sounded surprised.

“One night on the plains, there was a disturbance,” the Uroch explained. “We saved as many as we could when the old ones gave chase. But your people were weak. They required care before they could return to their homes. As we looked after them, they taught us your tongue.”

My mouth hung open. “I … I’m pretty sure you’re talking about the night I saved Fade.”

I’d finally startled Szarok. From his wide-eyed reaction, he hadn’t known I’d crept into the horde and opened the slave pens. “How extraordinary. It seems as if our paths have been converging for some time.”

I agreed. And until dawn broke, I talked with the Uroch warriors. Szarok had shown them the Otterburn girl who saved his father’s life, and unlike their parents, the young Uroch could choose another course. Hatred was not emblazoned in their bones.

“I want to learn to plant things,” one young Uroch whispered to me. “To put seeds in the ground and make the greenings grow.”

“So do I,” I admitted.

That was the skill I coveted most. Last summer, I had envied the planters who knew what to do with the earth, how to treat the plants, and make them strong. I wanted to grow food people could eat and flowers they would admire. It was one secret I’d never admitted aloud because it was so silly for a Huntress, yet I told this Uroch with eyes clever as a cat’s.

Rex moved amid the camp too, his hostility fading. I recognized the moment when he accepted that these weren’t monsters, but another people. With the proper support, he and I could pave the way to peace. My spirit lightened when I imagined an end to the war that might not result in complete annihilation on our side.

“Do you accept the alliance?” Szarok asked as dawn broke.

Though I trusted my instincts, I couldn’t be sure this wasn’t a trick … and I still had to persuade my men to work with their former enemies. Exhaustion flared in a headache, tightening my temples. I don’t want to make such a big decision. But there was nobody else.

“It will take some convincing,” I said, “but I’ll bring the men around. Your warriors will need to wear armbands or something, so there’s no confusion when we attack.”

And if you betray me, I’ll die trying to make you sorry. Yet I was willing to gamble everything on the promise of a lasting peace. If I was wrong about Szarok, that’d be a sad thing for someone to carve on my grave marker.

Here lies Deuce Oaks. She was gullible, but she tried.

“I’ll find a way to distinguish us from the old ones.” He offered his hand and I shook it.

This time, no images or memories came with the contact, so he must control that ability; the Uroch were fascinating when they weren’t trying to kill you. He released me with a tip of his head, and I had seen enough of the way they interacted with one another to take that as a sign of respect. Since I came up from down below, I had gotten skilled at recognizing other people’s customs, mostly because I learned them anew, everywhere I went.

“You mentioned other allies,” I said.

Between his five hundred and my two, it was hard to fathom the battle ending well against two thousand feral Freaks. And they squatted on the banks of the big river, poised to destroy the last bastion of peace in the territories. Rosemere.

They come no farther. It ends here.

Szarok nodded. “I’ve made contact with the small folk. They live in the caves and tunnels and they, too, have suffered from the endless fighting.”

“The small folk?” Rex asked.

I thought of Jengu and his kind, then I described them to the Uroch leader, who said, “Then you know of them. They call themselves the Gulgur.”

“How many are there?” I asked.

“Willing to fight? A hundred or so. They’re few but cunning, masters of remaining unseen. They’ll slip in while the old ones sleep and poison their meat.”

“Can you be ready two days from now?” That would give me time to make arrangements and persuade the men.

Szarok nodded. “I’ll coordinate with the Gulgur and ensure they carry out their role.”

“My men will attack from the east. You strike from the west. And let’s hope it’s enough.”

If the horde was weak and sick from the tainted meat, eight hundred of us might be able to defeat them, though we would take heavy casualties. I shared a glance with Rex, who said, “It’s time to tell the others. We can win.”

Resistance

The village was in an uproar when Rex and I returned. I was reeling with fatigue after so long without sleep, so my head was fuzzy as to why. For obvious reasons, we left Szarok in the Uroch camp, and as we strode into the village, I saw that Company D was already assembled and listening to orders shouted alternately by Tully, Spence, and Fade. Thornton had our smith checking all the weapons; it was like they’d decided to go to war overnight.

“What’s going on?” I called.

At hearing my voice, Fade spun and covered the ground between us in three strides. He crushed me against him, shaking. For a few seconds, I couldn’t breathe … and I was confused about his reaction. Then I knew. Before he spoke, I knew.

“I thought they took you, somehow.”

Like they did you.

With everything that had happened, I hadn’t considered how worried he must be. I go out for a walk and I don’t come back? Stupid. You should’ve sent Rex with word. Shock from the night’s events had driven all other considerations out of my head … but I couldn’t get enough breath to speak, let alone apologize.

“I realize you’re glad to see her,” Rex said, “but you’re crushing my sister’s ribs.”

I didn’t fight to make Fade let go, though; instead I hugged him back as tight as I could. The rest of Company D, currently watching, could wait. It took a while for him to calm down enough to release me, and when he stepped back, his dark gaze glittered with fury. I could expect a proper quarrel later. Since I wasn’t injured, his eyes said, and clearly I hadn’t been taken, there was no excuse for putting him through that much grief.

And he didn’t have Stalker to help him figure out the way I went, either. He must’ve felt so helpless.

Personal matters had to wait, however. “There’s been a most unexpected development,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll explain everything.”

Since we were standing in the middle of the market, I thought it best not to talk about the Uroch camped on the western part right then. The villagers might panic, and that was the last thing we needed, two days before engaging the horde. Company D was well trained, luckily, so they fell in and followed me past the docks, along the coastline to the east. I marched until it was safe to talk. The only fishermen I saw were out on the river, not working from shore.

“I’d sure like to know why I gave up a night’s sleep searching for you,” Thornton said. “When you’re clearly fine.”

Taking a deep breath, I answered, “I’m glad you asked. You may not like what you hear, but don’t say a word before I’m done. There will be a chance to talk afterward. Not during.” I scanned all the men’s faces and added, “That’s an order.”

Rex put a hand on my shoulder in moral support. Then I explained where I’d been all night—and with whom. Shock and rage governed most faces, although Tegan and Morrow looked intrigued rather than angry. That was about what I expected. When I wrapped up the story, Company D exploded with outrage, protests, and disbelief. I didn’t address their collective fury until it started to die down. Once they realized I wasn’t arguing with them, the men paused and glanced among themselves, as if wondering at my tactics.

Since it was our only chance against the horde, I didn’t much care what they thought of the idea. “I don’t expect you to like them … or even trust them. But your goal hasn’t changed. You’re still tasked with defeating the horde. The only thing I ask is that you don’t harm the Uroch. They’ll be fighting alongside us … and if you reckon they can’t think, feel, and hurt … well, you’d be wrong. They’re people. Not like us, true, but they’re not monsters. The fact that they’re willing to fight their own to save us proves it.”

“We don’t get a say?” one soldier shouted from the back.

“You can walk,” I said. “But then you have to live with knowing you were too much of a coward to complete your mission. It’s your choice. I won’t make anyone fight, but I’ll be awfully proud of those who do.”

My brother stepped forward. “Last night, I almost stabbed my sister rather than listen to reason. I hope you won’t make the same mistake. I was there with her. I talked with them too. They may not look like us, but they’re not violent, unthinking beasts.”

“My men will stand,” Tully said, fixing a hard look on the crowd.

A rumble of assent greeted her words. Fade was ominously silent, but I thought that was because he was angry with me for scaring him. He might also have a deep objection to cooperating with the Uroch; I just hoped I could make him understand that the young ones weren’t the same as their parents, just as he and I weren’t like the elders in the enclave. It was crazy that I had become an advocate for the monsters.

“Tully doesn’t go to war without me,” Spence said. “And I’ll make sure my boys are ready to bring the pain.”

Morrow added, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Thornton spoke up then. “Company D may not like your orders, but we follow them. When does the assault commence?”

Relief surged through me. At least I hadn’t lost my officers. “I need everyone assembled here, three hours before dawn, two days from now. Before then, I’ll speak with the boatmen about ferrying us across. We can’t strike if we’re all exhausted and waterlogged from the swim.”

“Good call,” Tegan said.

“The Uroch will be wearing something—I’m not sure what—to help us tell them from the elders. It may be hard to track in battle, but a good rule of thumb is, if they’re fighting other Muties, they’re on our side, so leave ’em alone.”

That sparked nervous, uncertain laughter from the men. I imagined it was hard for them to accept this idea. Fortunately, they would have almost two days to digest the new reality. If some of them left the unit or refused to fight, so be it.

I went on, “One last thing. Not a word to the villagers. There’s no need for them to worry. All the fighting will happen across the river, and they might panic. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the men answered as one.

“Dismissed. I’ll see you day after tomorrow, three hours before dawn.”

As the men went about their business, some discussing the incredible idea of the Uroch helping us, others saying they’d rather kill Muties than fight alongside them, Morrow pushed through the men, looking troubled. I thought I understood what was bothering him, but I let him start the conversation.

He paced as most of Company D headed back toward town. “This is my home. I don’t know if I can let this go without telling my father. He’s the governor, responsible for people’s safety. He needs to know about the army on the other side of the island.”

“Can he handle the information?” I asked. “If the Uroch meant to hurt Rosemere, they’d have attacked last night. Szarok wouldn’t have crept into town quietly, looking for me, so we could build an accord.”

“That’s probably true, but silence feels like betrayal.”

I nodded. “Follow your conscience, then. But if the situation blows up, your father informs the town council, they panic and a mob of villagers descends on the Uroch, it’ll be a bloodbath. You know that.”

Tegan stepped up and put a comforting hand on his arm. “Maybe we could meet them? I must confess I’m curious—and it might set James’s mind at ease to verify that these Muties—I mean Uroch—are everything you claim.”

Morrow gazed at her as though she were the answer to every dream he’d ever known. “That way, I can be sure they’re not moving against Rosemere. Would Szarok agree to that?”

“I’m sure he would.” Glancing around, I found Rex nearby. “Would you mind guiding Tegan and Morrow to the camp?”

My brother smiled. “Not at all. I’m glad to finally feel useful. I’m the worst in the company with any weapon, apart from a skinning knife.”

Tully and Spence had been listening to the conversation and at that point, she said, “We’d like to go with them. I have some questions for our new allies. Not that I don’t trust you, Deuce, but if I’m ordering my men to fight alongside them, I want to satisfy myself on some issues.”

“Just do me the kindness of being polite?” I requested.

They all nodded, like that was a given. A small party, made up of Tegan, Morrow, Tully, Spence, and Rex, shouldn’t alarm the Uroch. So I gave the expedition my blessing with one condition. “I’d prefer that you return by midnight before the attack. My officers can’t be wandering the shoreline when they’re supposed to be here.”

“Done,” Tully agreed.

They moved off, leaving me alone with Fade, who had been seething at my side for the last fifteen minutes. His silence was like a sunburn. The rest of the men were halfway back to Rosemere, but I thought it best to let him yell at me in private … if he ever spoke to me again.

I swallowed hard to get my apology past the lump in my throat. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His reply, when it came, was a low snarl. “Do you have any idea what last night was like for me? What I imagined they were doing to you? We thought the horde had you. Company D was ready to go to war, even though we had no chance of winning. They were all ready to die for you, and if you had been half an hour later, we’d have been across the river.”

My heart dropped all the way to my toes. In disbelief, I said, “Even if I had been taken, none of you should react that way. I’m one person. I’m not irreplaceable.”

Fade grabbed my shoulders, as if he couldn’t help himself. His fingers bit down, not quite enough to hurt, but I felt the ferocity coursing through him, his pulse hammering in his wrists. “You are. How can you not know that?”

I started to answer, but his mouth took mine, and his kiss was hard and hungry, angry and voracious, until my mouth felt swollen and tender, but I held on to him, sparked by the need he had always hidden. Fade tried to be gentle with me but that wasn’t the whole of him. He was furious and starved, desperate, and I felt it too, until we were both trembling. His breath mingled with mine when he eased his head back.

Against my lips, he whispered, “Sometimes I could almost hate you because you don’t understand how much you mean to me, how dark and empty I was before. Solnyshko moyo.”

I didn’t think I’d ever heard those words, but I was wobbly from exhaustion as well as his anger. “What does that mean?”

“It’s in my father’s tongue. I can’t remember more, but he used to say that to my mother. Solnyshko moyo. It means ‘my sun.’” Fade leaned his brow against mine, closing his eyes. “Each time Stalker called you ‘dove,’ I wanted to hit him. Because you’re not a little gray bird … you’re all the light in the world.”

“So are you,” I said, flattening my hands on his chest. He jerked at the contact, but not in a bad way. His breath hissed through his teeth, and he opened his eyes to gaze at me with desire blazing like a signal fire. “And I do understand. You’re all that’s kept me going when it seemed like this was hopeless. It’s also why I did whatever was necessary to bring you back. You’re my beating heart, and without you, I cannot live.”

“Now? You say that to me now?” Fade seemed peculiarly indignant as he gestured at the empty, rocky coastline. “Here? When we’ve both been up all night, Stone and Thimble are waiting for us at the cottage, and there’s not a bed in sight.”

Ah. Heat washed my cheeks when I understood what he meant. “There’s a mossy bank.”

He sighed at me and pulled me closer, gentle this time. “Let’s get some rest and tomorrow, we’ll talk to the boatmen.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t—”

“If you swear they’re different from the rest, I believe you. I can’t pretend I’m happy about it, but if the alternative is having our settlements destroyed, then … I can handle it.”

Fade ought to rant at me some more because I deserve it. I hadn’t meant to frighten him—and the consequences could’ve been so grave. I shuddered as I envisioned my soldiers dead on the wrong side of the river, all because I hadn’t thought to send word that I was safe.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, as we strolled toward the village, too tired for a faster pace.

“I’m still angry, but I’ll think of a way for you to make it up to me.”

I angled a teasing grin at him. “I’ll let you beat me the next time we spar.”

“Not what I had in mind,” Fade muttered.

Back in town, I made up a ridiculous story about walking along the coast and getting lost. By their dubious expressions, Stone and Thimble suspected I was lying—and I didn’t know whether to be pleased that they thought better of my abilities—or dismayed that my deception disappointed them. Still, they put aside their qualms and invited us back to their home, where they fed Fade and me. Talk was scant and stilted while my former brat-mates held whole conversations with their eyes.

Finally, Thimble said, “You’re exhausted. Don’t mind us. Get some rest.”

With her blessing, we crawled up into the loft without delay. Downstairs, Stone set to household chores and played with Robin while Thimble went to her workshop. Fade pulled me close and settled me against his chest. For a few seconds, I listened to his heart.

“When did you know?” I wondered sleepily.

“What?”

“How you felt about me.”

“I always admired your skill,” he said, sounding thoughtful. “You were so intense about your training that I wondered if you’d focus so fiercely on somebody you loved.”

“And do I?”

Fade kissed the top of my head. “More than I could’ve imagined. That’s part of why I asked Silk to partner us.”

That astonished me. “Truly?”

“She didn’t want to waste you on me, you know. I spent weeks convincing her I deserved a second chance.”

I shivered, imagining how different my life might be if he’d failed to persuade her. “I’m glad she agreed. But that’s not what I asked.”

“I’m prolonging the suspense.”

Smiling, I set a hand on his chest, which made him draw a sharp breath. “Tell me.”

“For me, it started when you let me put my arm around you on the way back from Nassau. So many girls in the enclave treated me like I was a filthy savage, one step away from killing all of you in your sleep.”

“You must’ve wanted to, sometimes.”

“Not after I met you. I felt…” He paused, as if struggling to find the words. “Like you needed me a little, as if you might let me in. But as for the moment when I really fell … we’d just opened a can of cherries and you licked them from my fingers. Then you looked at me like I was every wonderful thing in the world. And I thought, I’d give anything for her to feel that way forever. It just about killed me when I imagined that you preferred Stalker.”

I shook my head quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t understand, whereas you remembered your parents … and how they were together. I wish I hadn’t hurt you while I was figuring things out.”

“I hurt you too.” Fade was referring to his harsh words on my naming day, when he’d told me everything was over between us.

To convince him that was all in the past, I scooted up and brushed my lips against his raspy jaw. I had a fuzzy idea that we might manage some quiet kissing, but oblivion took me before I did more than nuzzle his cheek. We were so weary that neither of us stirred all day. Some point after dark, I woke and Fade nudged me down the ladder, where my brat-mates fed me. Blearily I acknowledged him helping me to the facilities out back, then upstairs again. He stayed close, a warm comfort in my sleep. All told, I was out for almost eighteen hours. Given that I’d been living rough for weeks, had nearly drowned, then hiked to the west side of the island and back, staying up all night, it was no wonder I was too tired to function.

When I roused next, it was time to prepare for battle.

Meld

I spent the day dealing with last-minute details, making sure we were ready for the fight. That included various errands, begging a few items from the vendors, and dealing with the boatmen. Morrow asked his father to smooth our way—and the governor was willing to help, even without knowing why. I liked him more for that; it meant he trusted his son’s judgment. But it was a good thing I’d slept most of the prior day because I wouldn’t rest again before the appointed hour. The villagers didn’t know what was going on, only that the soldiers they housed were saying thanks and farewell.

That night, after I wrapped up my work, I met the officers of Company D at the Cup and Bowl, Rosemere’s only pub. It was nicer than the one in Otterburn; the furniture was finished, and the people were friendly, not frightened. But that came from their safety due to the river more than any natural tendency. As a girl approached our table, I wondered if all islands had fared so well. It comforted me to imagine pockets of joy and security around the world, untouched by chemicals, Freaks, or violence.

“Nothing for me,” I started to say, as I didn’t have any local chits.

Morrow spoke over me. “I’ll pay for the group.”

I shrugged. If the storyteller wanted to buy our drinks, that was fine. In response to his request, she brought us a pitcher of ale, which I privately thought was disgusting. The smell should persuade a person not to drink it, but the others seemed pleased as Tegan poured. They’d just returned from the Uroch camp, their expressions stunned and hopeful. While they drank, Morrow and Tegan talked nonstop about Szarok, their voices pitched so nobody but our table could hear.

“I trust him,” Tegan murmured. “He seems sincere about the alliance. And I was surprised by how many physiological differences I noted between these and the older ones.” She elaborated on that, but I wasn’t interested in the properties of their blood or other distinctions.

When she paused for breath, Morrow added, “I find their culture fascinating. Did you know they share memories with a touch?”

“Szarok showed me … a girl in Otterburn changed everything.”

“What do you mean?” Spence asked.

In answer, I told the story about how one little girl, saving an injured Freak, led us here.

Once I finished, Tegan was teary. At first I didn’t understand why until she said, “If we survive, it’s because of her, and she’ll never know.”

“She might still be alive,” I suggested, hoping to cheer her. “Since I plan to ride around notifying the families of our fallen men, afterward, I’ll look for her too.”

She nodded. “That would mean a lot to me.”

Tully seemed less moved by the story. Her mind was clearly on the battle ahead, not what came after, and that was wise. “I don’t know how this arrangement will work long term, but we need their numbers.”

Spence downed his ale in a gulp. “No question. I still don’t like the odds, but it’s the best chance we’re likely to get, provided those Gulgur do their part.”

“Did you see any when you visited the camp?” I asked.

Morrow broke into a smile. “A group was arriving as we left. I spoke with them for a few moments. Funny little fellows, aren’t they?”

Nodding, I contemplated the coming battle. There were so many variables; the fight might turn into a massacre, but without help, Company D was doomed. I’d carried them as far as I could on our own. There was no way to produce soldiers from thin air, so we had to accept aid from strange sources. Briefly I wished I could say good-bye to Edmund and Momma Oaks in case things went wrong at the river, but at least Rex was here; and I’d do my best to protect him.

Tegan pulled something out of her bag and offered it to me. When I unwrapped it, I held an odd artifact; it had a long, slender red tail, a small cylinder at the top, wrapped in paper, then a string hung down. “What is this?”

“Szarok said they’re useful for sending signals. When we’re ready to attack, plant the stick in the ground, light the wick, and step back.”

I studied the strange item for a few seconds more, then shrugged and stowed it in my pack. “If he says it’ll work, then we’ll try it.”

“He said to wait to a count of two hundred once we light it and then begin the attack. They will do the same from the west.”

“They’re smarter than I expected,” Spence said.

“And better spoken,” Morrow added.

Fade was quiet; the idea of working with the Uroch must be bothering him, after what their brethren had done to him. I touched his leg and he nudged it closer to mine, so our thighs nestled while the others talked. It hit me hard that this could be the last time … for all of this. Any of us could fall tomorrow; there were no guarantees—and my heart hurt with the finality of it.

I raised my glass. “I just want to say, it’s been an honor to know you all.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Tully said.

“Does anyone have questions?” I asked.

There were a few, and I answered them. Once we finished the ale, we agreed it was time to get some rest, as we’d soon be meeting the boatmen at the dock. Since there were so many soldiers, they’d make multiple trips. Once we crossed, there was no turning back.

But I’d passed that point when Tully said she couldn’t live with knowing we’d let everyone die so we could live, if we gave up and stayed in Rosemere.

Morrow stopped me as we left the Cup and Bowl. “You were right about the Uroch. And about the villagers too, I think.”

Alarm sputtered to life. “What happened?”

“Nothing. But when I saw them encamped, I knew how people here would react. It would’ve been terrible … and so completely avoidable.”

“Did you tell your father anything?”

Morrow shook his head. “He wouldn’t thank me for keeping this secret, but the council would’ve insisted on some imprudent, hastily concocted defense strategy, and instead of new allies, we’d be fighting on two fronts. We can’t afford that.”

“True.”

He smiled, glancing down the lane. “I should get on. Tegan’s waiting for me.”

“You took her home to meet your parents, did you?”

The storyteller ducked his head. “Not like that. But, yes.”

“And she doesn’t realize?” I guessed. “Give her time.”

“I’m made of it.” He flourished a mocking bow and strode off to where she stood beneath a lamp. When she took his arm, I glimpsed the future, and it beckoned like the wind blowing through a field of wildflowers.

The moon glowed overhead, though its curve was waning. I liked it best when it was a slice of silver in the night sky, not so full that it overwhelmed the stars. Here, they shone like chips of ice, so bright that the darkness seemed almost blue by contrast. The sky over Rosemere might be the loveliest I’d ever seen. Fade walked back to where I stood, staring up.

Then I realized I hadn’t told him what might make this pact easier to swallow. Quickly, I repeated Szarok’s explanation for how they’d learned our language. I concluded, “So … what you went through? It mattered. If I hadn’t come for you, the Uroch would never have slipped away with the other captives. They wouldn’t have been able to communicate, even if they’d wanted to.” I took Fade’s hand. “You’re the reason we have any hope of winning.”

He stood very still, as if listening to the stars. “That’s not true. You’ve carried us this far, my sun. But yes … it helps, knowing I didn’t suffer for nothing.”

“I’m glad. It’s hard to believe we’re finally here,” I said softly.

“On the eve before the reckoning?” At my nod, Fade trailed his fingertips over my wrist, his eyes glimmering. “It’s a night for taking risks, I think.”

I gazed up at him. “And for not leaving things undone.”

The memory of his last kiss swept over me. I had been too tired then … but between all the sleep I’d stored up and the looming battle, there was no way I’d close my eyes tonight. In that moment, I wanted only Fade.

“I bet Stone and Thimble are asleep by now,” he whispered.

“Likely.” They kept early hours, driven by Robin. “We’ll need to be quiet.”

“I hope that’s possible.” Fade’s grin held a wicked edge.

And I shivered, because he was so obviously talking about more than creeping up the ladder. My fingers tightened on his, and we were running. Fortunately, there were few people about to see our urgency and question it. When we reached the cottage, the door was unlatched. I slipped in with Fade close behind me.

The fire was banked low in the hearth, all the supper things put away. There were two rooms at the back of the cottage, one where Stone and Thimble slept, the other for Robin. Just inside, I bent and removed my boots, then carried them with me to the loft. Fade followed soon after; above lay a cozy space with a feather mattress, just big enough for me to sit up at the tallest point. Fade and I had nestled here together, but I remembered only bit and pieces of it.

Tonight, I’d memorize every moment.

Fade knelt at the edge of the pallet, the hearth downstairs lighting his features enough for me to see his uncertainty. “Do you want this too? I can wait if—”

“No.” I swallowed hard, aching, nervous, and excited all at the same time. “I don’t want either of us to regret that we never did.”

That was as close as I could come to admitting how scared I was that he wouldn’t be around when the fighting ended. The prospect of my own death didn’t bother me as much, except for how it would hurt Fade. I’d come up with the expectation that I might die protecting others, and my nature hadn’t changed entirely, though I was now able to perceive the beauty of living without a knife strapped to your thigh.

“No regrets,” he whispered.

I opened my arms, and Fade came to me on his knees, but only because that was what the low ceiling required. There was no begging between us. He kissed me in soft, delicate glides of lips and tongue, as if I’d become fragile. I sank my fingers into his hair and fell into him; that was enough for a while, until he got brave and his hands roved down to my hips. Since I wasn’t a Breeder, nobody had ever told me how this worked, though I’d figured out the gist from noises down below and being close to Fade. I wished I wasn’t nervous, but it was tough, especially considering how little I knew.

He pulled off his shirt, probably guessing that would spook me less. I didn’t know if I was ready to be naked with him, but I didn’t want to wait, either. “Can I touch you?”

When my fingertips found his chest, he shivered. “Anywhere.”

It helped that he let me lose myself in his lean body, learning his lines until he was shaking. He pressed his mouth into my shoulder, breathing fast, especially when I raked my nails down the nape of his neck. To test his reaction, I did it again, and this time, he groaned.

“You like that.”

“I’d like anything you did to me.”

While I doubted that was true, it made me bolder. I pulled him down on top of me, and we kissed some more with my hands roaming up and down his back. Soon, he was moving on me as if he couldn’t help it, and it felt good, even the parts that were new and strange.

“Fade…”

His voice deepened, his words ragged and choppy with longing. “You feel so good. Need to … just let me…”

Feeling brave, I wriggled out of my shirt and that drew another pained sound from him when he lay down on me again. He explored with lips and hands. Then I lost track in the squirming and touching, so I didn’t notice when the rest of our clothes went away. The night was all heat, firelight, and Fade, breathing hard into my skin. He pressed my hand to him, but it didn’t take long until he was gasping. There was madness born of need in his eyes but I wasn’t afraid, never of him. He had restrained himself more than once, and I knew if I asked, he would stop. Instead I urged him on.

It hurt a bit, but I’d had worse. As he held me, kissed me so deep I tasted nothing but him, the rest turned beautiful. I figured out my part pretty fast, and when we finished, we were both sweaty and smiling. He cuddled me close, and I decided I didn’t mind being naked with him. With the wrong person, this would be awful, but I loved Fade with all my heart.

“So that’s how brats are born,” I said.

He propped up on an elbow. “We might have made one.”

“Is it possible the first time?” Maybe there was a learning curve.

“I think so. I’m not clear on the details.” Fade kissed my temple. “Was it all right?”

Teasing him, I pretended to consider. “I’d do it again. It’s probably like fighting, and we’ll get better with training.”

“I don’t know if I should be sad it wasn’t perfect or excited about the practice.”

“The last thing,” I advised.

Fade reached down, pulled up the covers, and settled me against his chest. We had lain like this together before, but never without clothes or blankets between us. To my mind, this part ran a close second to the touching and kissing.

“Are you scared?” he whispered.

I closed my eyes against the inexorable tick of time. “Very.”

“We have a few hours yet,” he pointed out.

As it happened, there was a lot to discover in that time. The second effort was better, and I understood why Momma Oaks spent so much time cautioning me. It was probably a good thing most Hunters were kept ignorant, or there would’ve been more brats than we could feed.

In silent accord, we gathered our clothes, dressed quickly, and crept out to the bathhouse to clean up before we met the rest of Company D. I’d never felt closer to another person in my life, as if breeding had destroyed the barriers between us. He waited while I took my turn, then I did the same. When Fade stepped out, I couldn’t resist kissing him; it seemed unthinkable that a night like this must end in death.

Not his, I begged silently. Not Fade. Please don’t take him from me.

Onslaught

Three hours before dawn, we assembled on the shore as agreed. The boatmen met us and ferried us over in shifts. I ordered the men to sit quiet and wait; I wasn’t sure how good the enemy’s hearing was, and this attack didn’t start until I gave the signal. It took about an hour to get everyone safely across. On arrival, I counted and realized we were short a few men. Apparently they couldn’t live with their orders … and I understood.

“Is everyone ready?” I asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Fade drew me aside. The men turned away—and I appreciated their discretion. We weren’t the only ones who had just-in-case good-byes to say, however. Around us, other people paired off: Morrow with Tegan, Tully and Spence, and a couple of men too. My heart hammered in my chest, so hard it hurt, and those moments of sweetness and safety up in the loft felt so far away. I went into his arms without asking if he wanted me there because I knew he did. His breath stirred my hair, and for a moment, I just listened to his heart beating.

“The odds still aren’t good,” I said softly.

I fought tears, as I had to be strong and brave at this moment, everything I didn’t feel. Fade loosened his arms enough so he could tip my face up to his, and I could’ve drowned in his eyes. “For us, they never were. Look where we found each other.”

He had a point; it was pretty awful down below. “I’ll never be sorry that we went Topside together. I’ll never be sorry about anything.”

Including what we did tonight. I left that part unsaid, but Fade knew. He always did. Back when Silk partnered us, he seemed to understand me better than I did myself, sensing what I wanted and things that would make me happy. I remembered how he’d comforted me with an arm around my shoulders, and that was the first step toward a world where he meant everything to me, and his touch was as much my home as any cottage could ever be.

“If this is the last time, let me say it so you never forget. I will always love you, Deuce. No matter where souls go, mine will be looking for you, solnyshko moyo.”

Those words tore me in two. “No. I want a promise instead. Promise you’ll fight like you never have, so when the dying stops, you’ll be on your feet looking for me here.”

“I swear,” he said.

But there were no guarantees. I knew that, even as I extracted the pledge. So I kissed him because if the end came for me in the form of fangs and claws, I wanted to die with the taste of him on my lips.

There should be a speech for a moment like this one, but it was chilly, and we were all ready to have the fight done. So I held out my hand to Fade, who put his sire’s lighter in it. I jammed the artifact in the ground, as Tegan had said, lit the wick, and then we all backed up. Sparks flew, then the thing shot straight up in the air in an orange arc, making a popping, whistling noise, then it exploded in a cascade of colors. For a few seconds, we all stared up in awe because none of us had ever seen anything like it.

“I’m counting,” Morrow said.

As he hit two hundred, an answering light rose on the other side, just high enough that we could see it. I took a deep breath, scared as I never had been. I didn’t believe that I was a Huntress anymore—and therefore, destined for a great and glorious death. If I died in battle, it would hurt as much as it did for anyone else, and there were so many things I’d never do. But courage wasn’t an absence of fear; it was fighting despite the knot in your stomach.

“That’s our cue. Good hunting, Company D.”

The men echoed it back to me; and in the faint, predawn light, I saw all of their fear, all the uncertainty. I had no remedy for it. Morrow took his scouts while Tully, Fade, and Spence rallied their soldiers. Thornton stuck close to Tegan, hanging back, and I was glad he meant to protect her. I wanted to grab Fade and beg him not to be too brave or too reckless. Instead, I led as I’d always done, by rushing the enemy with my knives drawn.

The camp was mostly asleep, though some of the Freaks were retching. I’d never seen them vomit before. It was disgusting, the way bile funneled to either side of their fangs. They hardly had a chance to raise the alarm before we were on them. Company D ran straight into the heart, and then stabbed it for good measure. Tactics that served us before worked again. The men were armed with all the liquor the pub owner was willing to spare without knowing why we needed it, and we lobbed ten firebombs into the horde. Rifles barked and I heard the smooth shing of Tully’s crossbow. In the confusion and snarling bodies, I lost sight of my lieutenants at once. The beasts were all around, so many that I couldn’t breathe, but they were sluggish and clumsy, as promised, which meant the Gulgur had kept their part of the bargain.

The air thickened with smoke, until it was hard to see who we were fighting. I stabbed one Freak, then another as it stumbled toward me. Another burst out of the miasma, but he wore a white strip of cloth around his arm, so I raised my blade in salute and we attacked the next enemy together. I hurt for him; it might be his sire or dam suffering beneath his claws but he didn’t falter.

My ears echoed with the screams and curses, snarls and cries of pain. There were corpses everywhere, gunshots cracking out, the coppery tang of blood heavy in the wind. I had no sense for how my side was doing, only the certainty that if I stopped fighting, I would die. The horde was huge, their numbers formidable, even with poisoned meat churning in their guts. Ten of them surrounded me, and beyond them, there were ten more and ten again, far past what the night and the smoldering reeds permitted me to see. Bodies splashed in the river nearby, fighting or fleeing, I couldn’t tell which.

The Uroch near me slashed a Freak that tried to lunge past him to get at me, and I finished his kill. These monsters were puzzled, unable to grasp why they were fighting their kin. I parried and sliced until my arms ached and the dead piled up around me. Still they came on as the dawn broke. It should’ve been an inspiring sight, sunlight on the water, but instead it only illuminated how long our odds were. The combined might of Company D, the Urochs, and the Gulgur didn’t seem to be enough. We’d killed so many, but as many of our soldiers lay injured and dying on the bloody battlefield, and they had a thousand more to throw at us.

Across the way, I heard Tully screaming at her men to regroup while rifle fire came slower and slower. The men were running low on ammo, I guessed, as I swiped sweat and blood from my brow, and fought on, focusing on my immediate danger. A Freak impaled the Uroch beside me, and I was too slow to save him. Blood bubbled from the young one’s mouth, then he fell, never having said a word, and I was alone in the middle of the horde.

I need Fade.

But my throat was parched and tired from the hours of fighting. Calling out was a waste of breath. Freaks surged as far as the eye could see, and they were exultant despite their weakness because they sensed how this fight ended. With a burst of renewed energy, I struggled on, powered by the memory of all the people I would never see again if I gave up. My shoulders burned, my arms twin columns of fire.

Another wave of the monsters rushed me, and I was engulfed, unable to see, just the snarling mass of claws and fangs lashing at me. With sheer determination, I brought up my knives, but willpower wasn’t enough. My body had limits, and I’d reached them. More of their strikes got through; it was just a matter of time until one of them got lucky and struck the killing blow. Heart, throat, thigh. One of those places, and I’m gone.

A Freak sank its teeth into my forearm, another scored my shoulder. With a move Stalker had taught me, I cut the first one’s throat, and spun low, slicing at their legs. If they can’t stand, they can’t fight as well. It also made me a smaller target. I sliced the veins in their legs and nearly puked at the rush of blood that caught me in the face.

How many more? Too many.

Three of them died at my feet, and I stared, unable to grasp what I was seeing. But Tegan had broken one of their skulls, Thornton accounted for the other, and the third, well, Gavin of Winterville stood with our banner in his hands, the flag flapping in the wind; he’d impaled the Freak with the pointy end. Before I could thank them, Thornton’s head snapped to the side and his neck gushed red. The veteran fell before I could react, and then there were eight more monsters on Tegan, the brat, and me. He jerked the banner from his victim and used it like a polearm, but the kid didn’t have the strength to do that for long. Tegan and I covered him as best we could, but I was so tired, and from her movements, her leg was paining her. A doctor shouldn’t fight on the battlefield, but there was no time for her to treat the wounded. One of our men screamed for mercy, and anguish flickered across her face because she couldn’t break from the battle and do her job.

I’m sorry, I tried to say, but I had no breath. The stitch in my side came from a complex blend of exertion and pain, both emotional and physical. I’d never fought in a conflict that had no end, but this felt as if there were nowhere to go and no conclusion except the grave. Tegan stumbled and I grabbed her; somehow we held on as Freaks shoved toward us. Gavin was so gallant, flapping the pennant as if its power alone could drive the monsters away.

Tegan knocked down a Freak and I stabbed it while Gavin impaled another. He was actually pretty good with that blasted banner. But there were too many.

“I’m not dying!” Gavin shouted. “I promised my mum!”

His defiance gave me the strength to kill one, then another. Tegan appeared to take heart as well, and we pushed past the pain, until we had a pile of bodies so tall before us that I could stand on them. And I did. I climbed the corpses and stumbled down the other side, through the smoky air. There was more fighting farther along the river.

I spotted knots of Uroch battling their brethren and the Gulgur slinging stones with leather straps from the fringes of the battle. When a Freak turned to give chase, the small folk darted away and were gone, and in that time, the monsters took more damage from behind. Exhausted, I paused to catch my breath while my two comrades did the same.

“Are we winning?” Tegan asked.

I shook my head. “Don’t know.”

Then hope appeared, incredibly, unbelievably. From the south and east, men came marching. I recognized Morgan at the head of one column, so I identified them as Soldier’s Pond men. I saw people I had met in Gaspard, Otterburn, and Lorraine; they had tired faces but they all wore identical expressions of determination. Most were poorly outfitted and equipped. They had no uniforms and some were armed with hoes and shovels, whatever they could grab quickly. Marlon Bean lifted a hand in greeting, as did Vince Howe.

John Kelley rode at the front of the lines and when he saw me, he called, “You started without us, Huntress. Do you mind if we take some of these Muties off your hands?”

“Don’t attack the Uroch or the Gulgur,” I yelled back. “They’re with us.”

Quickly Tegan called out the description of our allies, and Kelley looked astonished, but he acknowledged with a nod, relaying the instructions to their men. Nobody argued. There was too much movement for me to get any idea how many had come to join the fight or how many Freaks were left, but hope flickered deep within me.

Catching my second wind, I ran at the remaining Freaks with renewed fury. As I fought, I searched for Fade. Sometimes I thought I heard his voice calling out orders, but I couldn’t break off to search for him. I did see Spence, out of bullets and using his shooting iron to club the monsters in the head to stun them before he stabbed. He smiled at me, teeth white in his filthy face, and it heartened me to see that he’d made it this far. His men surrounded him, the twenty that were left … out of the fifty he had before, and their deaths hurt, but I couldn’t stop.

Not when we were so close.

In the melee I lost track of Tegan and Gavin. Then I saw the boy raise his banner high and jam it into a Freak Tegan had flattened for him. “That’s for Stalker.”

I didn’t know how he could be so sure, but I sliced my way toward them. When I looked at the dead thing on the ground, I recognized the scar cutting through its left eye. Maybe it shouldn’t matter, as it didn’t bring my friend back, but I nodded at the brat.

“Good work.”

Within minutes, the tenor of the battle changed. These weren’t soldiers, but they were brave men, and the rest of us fought as hard. It could have been an hour or five, but eventually the horde broke. The Freaks tried to run, but riflemen from Soldier’s Pond had been practicing for years for this day, and they cut them down.

On the enemy’s side, there were no survivors.

Death

Ravens and crows swept down on the dead, even as I tried to tend the living. Tegan was distraught; we had no plan in place for victory, no facilities for the wounded. She shouted at people to help her carry litters away from the killing field and men responded to her call. Tegan found a capable-looking woman to serve as her nurse, and they discussed the best way to save as many lives as possible.

As for me, I was looking for Fade. I walked among the corpses, staring down into their bloody faces. Each time I saw a lean young man or a shock of black hair, I lost my breath and my courage. It took all my willpower to keep searching. I found Zach Bigwater cut down … and I hoped he’d found peace, redemption from his conviction that he was a coward. To me, it looked like he’d fought hard and I whispered, “Thank you.”

A few minutes later, I rolled Harry Carter over. The older man was smiling, as if he’d seen something lovely before he died. Fear took deep root in my belly. Fade promised. He’s fine. You just have to find him.

I stumbled across Spence by accident. He was half hidden by a rise above the river, bodies all around him. The beady-eyed black birds crept closer on forked feet and his scream sent them scattering in a flutter of wings. Too late, I saw Tully cradled in his arms. The container that held her bolts hung empty, and her knives were nowhere to be found. Her blood had clotted, going brown in the sun, but he didn’t let go of her. He just held her and rocked. His eyes opened when he saw me; and he seemed too young for such grief with his ginger hair and freckled face.

“I couldn’t find her.” His voice was a song born of pain. “I was too late.”

Dropping to my knees, I put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“She always said I’d get tired of her. She never—never—”

Tears sprang to my eyes. “Maybe she didn’t say it out loud, but she knew you loved her. I could see it between the two of you.”

“I can’t do this.” Without warning, he dropped her body and went for his gun.

Terrified, I grabbed his arm and wrestled him for it, using all my strength to pull the barrel away from Spence’s body. He actually hit me, hard enough to make my vision sparkle, but I dug my fingers into his arm and didn’t let go. We rolled in the mud, end over end, and I came up on top, barely hanging on. I couldn’t let this man die.

Fortunately, his burst of fury didn’t last long, and when he yielded, I hurled the weapon into the water.

“I can get another,” he said dully.

“Do you think she’d want this for you?”

His blue eyes went hard as ice. “No. But she’s dead, and she doesn’t get a say.”

“Pull yourself together. People among the living still need your help, and I haven’t given you permission to quit.”

Spence offered a terse suggestion as to what I could do with my orders; and if I wasn’t so worried about Fade, I might’ve cracked a smile. Instead I shoved to my feet and pointed. “Pick her up. Move Tully to where the medical team can look after her. Once we take stock of who’s left, we’ll see to our dead.”

He argued a little, but in the end, he swung his beloved into his arms and he was weeping unashamedly when he delivered her to Tegan. She registered at once who he carried and what she’d meant to Spence. Tegan waved frantically at Morgan, who had some carts. His men must’ve gone across the river to ask Rosemere for help.

Tegan said, “I need you to take care of her for me.”

“I will.” Morgan had proven he was steady as a rock, so his word was good.

“How the devil did you get here just in time?” I asked.

“Thank your traders. They’ve been haranguing all towns in the territories to send men for weeks. On their last trip, which they made without your protection, they swore there would be no more supplies unless we all manned up and did our share.”

“We owe them our lives.” I pitched my voice low, casting a glance at Spence, who stood like a ghost beside Tegan. “He’s not all right. Keep an eye on him while I search the battlefield? I’m missing some men.”

Fade, Morrow, and Rex. I couldn’t speak of the ones I’d lost.

Morgan agreed with a ready nod. “You know, Colonel Park wants to speak with you, as soon as you get the chance.”

It was funny to me how formally he referred to his own wife, but her position made their relationship a quiet, private matter, glimpsed primarily in a subtle look.

“I have a lot to take care of first, but I’m heading to Soldier’s Pond when I’m done.”

With no more conversation, I returned to my mission. I found Rex soon after, and my stomach lurched when I saw him lying there. Momma Oaks would never forgive me for taking another son from her. But when I put my fingers to his throat, I felt a pulse. I searched him from top to bottom and uncovered a flesh wound on his chest and a bruise on his jaw. He was bloody enough, however, that the poison-fogged Freaks had thought he was dead.

Shaking him gently, I set a jug to his mouth and poured. At first the water just trickled down his neck, but apparently that was enough irritation to bring him around. He slapped my hands away and struggled upright, his eyes fuzzy at first. I knew the second he focused on me and realized he was still alive.

“That’s a bit of a surprise,” he said.

“A good one. On your feet. I need you to help me find Morrow and Fade.” Actually I was more interested in seeing if he could get up, which should help me gauge how badly he was hurt.

With my help, Rex clambered up and he looked around, his face going green. “This is…”

“Yes,” I said softly. “It is.”

Though Rex was unsteady on his feet, he seemed sound enough, so he stayed with me as I sorted the living from the dead. Three times, we found men who looked as if they were done, but I found a heartbeat and called Tegan’s workers to treat them. It was terrifying and exhausting, there among the wounded. Somewhere past midday, Szarok found me. His sharp features were familiar in a way I found strange, considering we’d only spent one night talking. Rex stepped closer in reflex until he remembered that the monsters were dead.

“Your soldiers fought well,” he said.

“As did yours. One of them saved my life.”

“I wish there was a way to take the memories from the dead,” he said somberly, “so they’re not lost.” Before I could reply, another Uroch approached, and they hissed and growled a conversation. Then the other hurried away. “I’ve been reminded to state my terms for our alliance. We keep Appleton. While it’s regrettable the way we acquired it, I doubt any of your people care to settle there now.”

“I don’t have the power to—”

“The devil you don’t,” Rex cut in. “You led this army. You united every able-bodied person willing to fight in the territories. You beat the horde. So if you offer Appleton to our allies, nobody will argue with you.”

Could that be true? I supposed it was. “All right. Appleton’s yours. This isn’t the time to talk about such things, but there will need to be…” I didn’t even know the words.

“Treaties,” Rex supplied. “Trade agreements. And the Uroch will probably want to wear those armbands, at least until the last of the old mutants are gone.”

A flicker of pain registered in Szarok’s golden eyes. Those were his people Rex was casually dismissing. We hadn’t killed all of them; there would be stragglers in forest and field, but if we were careful, they’d die out in a few years and their legacy of violence with them.

But I couldn’t help wondering, “Can the few remaining old ones breed … and start the cycle all over again?”

Szarok shook his head. “They’re past the age of reproduction. The future of my people rests in our hands now.”

“That’s good to hear,” Rex muttered.

The Uroch favored him with a sharp glance, before saying, “We’re returning to Appleton now. These bodies are nothing to us since we can’t collect their memories. So the crows are welcome to them.”

That was a way in which we differed, but I didn’t judge him for it. “Might be best. I don’t know how the men will react, now that the fighting’s stopped.”

Rex nodded. “Peace takes time.”

Szarok went on, “The Gulgur have returned to their burrows. They told me to ask you to bury their dead along with your own. I don’t know if they’re interested in treaties or trade agreements, but they’re pleased it’s safe to come into the light, if they so choose.”

“I’ll take care of it. Thank them for me,” I said.

With a lift of his taloned hand, Szarok turned and signaled his surviving warriors with another of those exploding things. They loped away, along the river and out of sight, leaving me to continue picking up the pieces. With each body I turned over and each face I searched, my hope grew fainter. The sun was past its zenith when I found Morrow.

“Tegan!” I shouted, knowing she’d drop everything to tend him.

He was covered in so many wounds that I didn’t know how he was still breathing. Two men came with her, drawn by my sharpness, and we carried him to the tent set up away from the bodies. I figured it, too, had come from Rosemere, and I silently thanked them for their help. There were fires burning and water boiling in huge pots, and women from the village moving among the wounded soldiers with bandages that looked like they had been torn from sails.

“Someone should fetch his father,” I said.

In case he doesn’t make it.

I wished I’d let him inform the governor, as he’d wanted. Then they could’ve had a just-in-case farewell. But Tegan fixed a look of such ferocious denial on me that I stumbled back to the tent’s entrance. “Nobody is going anywhere. Get me a damned pan of water, some clean cloth, and my medical bag.”

I did as she demanded, then Rex and I washed up and assisted her as she cleaned his wounds and then prepared the tincture that had saved Harry Carter. With steady hands, she poured the noxious mixture into the bites and stitched Morrow’s wounds. His men heard about his condition, and fifteen of them paced outside the tent. We’d suffered such losses before reinforcements arrived—I cut the thought as I daubed away the blood leaking from his side. I couldn’t afford to let fear and impending grief distract me. A friend’s life hung in the balance.

It seemed like it took forever before Tegan finished working on the storyteller. He was so pale that it didn’t look like he had any blood left in his body. She dropped to her knees and pressed her cheek to his, and that seemed like my cue to back out of the tent. Along the way, I stumbled, but there was nothing to trip me, only the smooth roll of grassy ground.

Rex steadied me with one arm and said, “You have to eat something.”

“I can’t. I have to find Fade.”

“Eat,” he demanded gently. “Or I’ll tell Momma that you don’t listen to your brother.”

Shakily, I assented, but only because I’d never locate Fade if I collapsed. If he was wounded and unable to call out for help, buried in a pile of corpses—I shook all over, just thinking about it. This battle would never end for me if he didn’t keep his promise.

Rex led me to a fire where village women were warming soup. I took a wooden bowl of it and drank in a few furious gulps—anger because pain would drown me without the protective shell. Then I downed some water and glared at Rex.

“Happy now? Can I go back out there?” Even as the words spewed out in that tone, I knew my brother deserved better than this.

To his credit, he only nodded. “Let’s keep looking.”

More bodies rolled beneath my hands, more dead faces to haunt my dreams. Beside me, Rex was grim and silent, but I was glad to have him. With Tegan tirelessly treating patients and the men looking for their own friends and loved ones, I’d be alone otherwise. And without his calm determination, I might be screaming and tearing out my hair. We’d been searching for some time and it was starting to get dark when Gavin rushed at us.

The brat was so breathless he could barely talk, so the words juddered out in fits and starts. “Deuce, this way … please. Hurry.”

His urgency was contagious. I pushed to my feet and stumbled after him, the riverbank a mass of bodies, so much death. There were small forms, the Gulgur, and larger ones: Uroch wearing armbands, townsfolk with hoes beside them, and the fallen men of Company D. The stench was becoming dreadful. If we didn’t do something about the corpses, they’d poison the river, ruining the tranquil beauty I’d so admired. Rex ran behind me, steadier on his feet.

I hoped with all my heart for good news.

Ahead of us, Gavin led the way with the bloody banner still flying in the wind. The brat ran lopsided, but if he was capable of moving on his own, then he was low on the list of people Tegan needed to see. There were so many who wouldn’t last the night, maybe including Morrow. My own injuries cracked and stung as I churned the earth, trying to keep up.

When the boy stopped, he stood beside a lean figure sprawled upon the ground. And there was so much blood, so much, all over his face, that I was afraid to look closer. As I braced to scream, Fade opened his eyes.

Relief drowned me, and I lost my breath. “You promised you’d be on your feet.”

Memorial

It took thirty-two stitches to put Fade back together. While Tegan sewed, I hovered and paced, shadowed by Rex, who seemed to think I might do something drastic. Mercifully, Fade passed out before she finished. Her eyes were bleak as she raised her head.

“This wound could be tricky.”

“Give me everything that Doc used on you. I’ll take care of him and fight the infection.”

Without another word of protest, as she had other patients to tend, Tegan handed me a collection of dried herbs and bottled remedies. I listened to her instructions, memorized them, and then turned to Rex. “I need your help getting him to Rosemere. We can’t stay here.”

In reply, my brother swung the man I loved up into his arms, and we left the medical tent, leaving Tegan to hover over Morrow and wait for the next soldier to be carried in. Gavin went with us, and I was eager to escape the smell of death. Flies were thick in the air, buzzing in the reeds and laying eggs in something I didn’t want to see. Rex shouted to a boatman; they were in constant motion, ferrying supplies and wounded back and forth across the water. I was desperate for the sanctuary Rosemere represented. Though there might not be any danger on the mainland, I needed to get away from the battlefield.

The fisherman came in response to Rex’s call. He couldn’t come all the way to shore, lest his boat founder, so we waded out, and I helped my brother lift Fade into the boat. Gavin clambered in on his own, the banner still in his hand. It looked more like a rag, smeared with mud and blood, but my symbol was still discernable in the center. Wearily I climbed aboard myself, and the man sailed us silently back to the Evergreen Isle. On the docks, the fishermen chattered about the battle and more volunteers had assembled to help with the wounded.

Our boatman went back out, along with two more, in case they were needed. Villagers peppered me with questions and I answered in a monotone, thinking only of getting Fade to safety. Just when I was about to lose my temper, Stone shouldered through the crowd, his handsome face lighting with relief when he saw me.

“I can take him,” Stone said, but my brother shook his head.

It must have been a matter of pride since Rex had to be as exhausted as I was. With Stone leading the way, I trudged to his cottage, where Thimble stood with Robin balanced on her hip. She stepped back and made room, her face creased with worry.

“How bad is it?” she asked. There was no answering that yet, so I kept quiet, and she turned her attention to Gavin and Rex, who seemed pleased by her care. “If you’d like to wash up out back, I’ll feed you, then you can rest in the loft.”

Stone carried Fade into Robin’s room; it was small, little more than a nook, but large enough for a narrow bed with a feather mattress. He laid him down and said, “Robin will be fine with us for a few nights. Do you need anything?”

“Some soap and water. Clean bandages.”

As he left, I stripped Fade out of his torn and ragged clothes. He had a number of less serious slashes on his shoulders and chest, none as serious as the wound on his side. My stomach clenched when I thought of Tegan pinching his muscle together and sewing tight, before stitching another layer in his skin. Stone returned with the supplies I’d requested and I washed Fade from head to toe. Mercifully, he was still unconscious.

It never occurred to me that he could die, even when his fever spiked later that night. He sweated and thrashed while I bathed him and plied him with the treatments Tegan had provided. There were special teas and poultices to draw out infection before it deepened. While I tended Fade, others buried the dead, burned the Freak corpses, and cleared the battlefield. I didn’t sleep much; a blanket on the floor beside his bed didn’t offer much comfort, but I had to be close enough to hold his hand. I was convinced as long as I didn’t let go of him, his fever would break and his body would heal. I might’ve been delusional by that point from lack of sleep and food, but there was no budging me. Thimble tried, but I snarled at her, and she backed out of the room.

On the third day, Thimble came to the doorway again. “How is he?”

“Better, I think. Have you heard anything about Morrow?”

“Tegan’s with him at the governor’s place. He nearly died in the night, but she opened one of his wounds and brought him back.”

“Multiple infections?” That explained why she hadn’t checked on us.

She nodded soberly. “Why didn’t you tell us about the battle, Deuce?”

“Because I knew you’d fight. So would Stone. You both feel like you need to make amends with me, and you have Robin to think about, which is more important than guilt.”

“Topside’s been good for you,” she said, smiling. “You’re smarter than you used to be.”

“I understand more how people think now. It doesn’t always make me happy.” I thought of Stalker when I said it, and melancholy twisted my heart.

Fade moaned then and I spooned some water down his throat. Thimble tiptoed out. Fade’s lips were dry and pale, his cheeks flagged with color. Knowing it would hurt him, I changed the dressing on his wound. It was seeping a little as Tegan had warned, but the poultices kept it from swelling up and turning red. I made more of the black goop and smeared it down the stitches; it didn’t look clean or healthy, but she’d promised that was what Doc Tuttle said had saved her life. And after it dried, it smelled horrible, like it was really drawing out the impurities. I washed it off and started all over again with the bandages.

My monthly started the next day, which Momma Oaks had told me meant I wasn’t breeding. That was a relief; and I made a mental note to ask her how to prevent brats when I saw her next. It wasn’t that I was against the idea, but I wanted us to be ready when we had our own. With him so hurt, it sure wasn’t the time.

Five days passed in more or less the same fashion, but that night, his fever broke. And when his eyes opened, they were clear as the night sky; and he knew me. I wasn’t even surprised, just overcome with love and satisfaction, as if my stubbornness had any impact on his health. His beautiful mouth curved into a smile.

“You look awful,” he whispered.

“Then we’re a matched set.”

“My side feels like somebody’s branded me with hot irons.”

“I’m not surprised. A Freak talon opened you up.”

He pushed out a breath, then reached for me. The movement prompted a cry of pain, so I scrambled onto the edge of the bed. “Stop, I’m here. I haven’t left you for a single minute.”

“I remember the battle … and seeing the Gulgur dodging around, slinging stones. They’re not fierce, but they’re annoying. I killed a lot of Freaks who were dumb enough to chase them.”

I nodded, smiling. “They pulled their weight. I wonder if Jengu’s still out there.”

“I hope so.” He winced, probing the stitches with his fingertips, and I stilled them by covering his hand with mine. “After our reinforcements arrived, I got careless. I tried to reach you, but I must’ve blacked out.”

“Gavin found you. I had been looking all day.”

“I owe him, then.” Fade shifted to favor his injured flank and drew me close. I must have smelled awful, but compared with the stuff slathered on his wound, maybe he didn’t notice.

“So do I.”

For the first time in days, I curled up and went to sleep. He improved steadily after that, enough to stay awake for hours at a time, eat on his own, and drink endless cups of herbal tea that Thimble claimed would hasten his recovery and Fade said tasted like weeds. I relaxed enough to take a bath and brush my hair.

“How’s Morrow?” I asked, the first time Tegan came by.

“Healing, slower than Fade.”

The deep shadows under her eyes said she was nursing him with the same care I’d granted Fade, but she probably didn’t realize what that meant yet. I wondered how long it would take for her to figure out that she loved him. She had help from his family, however, whereas I was like a mother bear with a single cub; I’d snarled and threatened to take the hand off anyone who came near my man.

“How many are left of Company D?”

“I’ve been going through Morrow’s journal while I tend him. Less than seventy.”

I bowed my head for a few seconds. “I need all their names.”

“I’ll put Sands on it.” Soon after, Tegan left.

Only one of Stalker’s original scouts had survived the battle. Since he’d been with us from the beginning, Sands would likely know the names of the dead and where they’d come from. Time for me to keep my promise. A little food and sleep had worked wonders, especially since I knew I could cross the river, and there was nothing much to fear anymore.

The next day, Fade protested when I kissed his forehead and said, “I’ll see you soon.”

He tried to follow me, but he wasn’t strong enough. A blue streak of cursing ensued, quickly staunched when Thimble stuck her head in the room wearing a ferocious scowl. “If my son picks up that language from you, Fade, there will be a reckoning.”

“Let me come with you.” Fade’s desperate voice followed me, and I turned.

“You need to heal … and I need to get this done before the first snow. Don’t worry. This is the last time we’ll be apart. That’s my promise to you.”

He didn’t like it, but he settled against his pillows. I ran back and kissed him properly, just to give him some motivation, then I hurried out of the cottage, knowing I couldn’t linger or my resolve would falter. I didn’t look forward to this task, but my conscience would plague me if I didn’t give these families the news about their loved ones. They deserved to know what happened, why their sons and daughters were never coming home.

After a little searching, I found Rex in the pub with Spence. Morgan had taken my request seriously, and before he’d left, he assigned my brother to look after Spence because he wasn’t even half sane after Tully’s death, and he still sought ways to do himself harm. I hoped his grief would ease in time.

“When Fade’s better,” I said to them both, “I need you to take him to Soldier’s Pond. Wagon is fine. I’ll come as soon as I finish one last thing.”

“Carrying word.” Spence’s blue eyes were flat and sad.

I agreed that was so. “Will you?”

“We’ll take care of him,” Rex promised.

Thimble met me at the cottage door with my pack; she was every bit as resourceful as I remembered from our days down below. She must’ve figured I’d be heading out as soon as possible, better to get the grim journey out of the way. I hugged her tight, but I didn’t say good-bye. Now that I knew they were here, I’d be back. I just had some traveling to do first.

To my surprise, Gavin met me at the docks. He still had the Company D banner, but he’d taken it off the pole, and he wore it around his shoulders like a cape. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he looked ridiculous; he seemed so proud of the dirty, disreputable thing. Maybe Momma Oaks could sew him a proper cloak when we got to Soldier’s Pond, possibly with our emblem, if it would make him happy.

“I’m going with you,” he told me.

I didn’t try to talk him out of it. “You know it’ll be a long, sad trip.”

He shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

The survivors of the company had split up while I tended Fade, leaving Rosemere in twos and threes, to return to their homes. Part of me wished I could’ve given them something worthy of their courage, but there were only words, and I had never been skilled with those. So it was best they went before I could ruin whatever good thoughts of me they might carry away.

A boatman took us across with an oddly deferential air, and when I stood to clamber out of the boat, he kissed the back of my hand. I pulled away, eyeing him in abject confusion.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because you’re the Huntress,” he said. “And you won the War of the River. You made the territories safe again.”

I hadn’t done so without a lot of blood and pain, many sacrifices from people smarter, braver, and better than me. But I was so flummoxed by his words that I let Gavin drag me out over the side, into the water, and all the way to shore. I cast a look back, but the man was already trimming his sail and turning the little boat back toward the Evergreen Isle.

When Gavin and I returned to the battlefield, it had become a graveyard. Row after row of wooden markers stood neatly commemorating where brave men and women died. I stood for a few seconds, my throat too tight to breathe. The brat’s fingers stole into mine, and I squeezed them. It seemed so wrong that we were here when Stalker wasn’t, when Tully and Thornton were probably buried beneath these fresh black mounds.

“Do you ever wonder why them and not you?” Gavin asked.

“All the time.”

The trade routes were oddly clear. Breaking the horde had driven any straggling elders into hiding, where they would doubtless hunt small game until they died. If they grew bold again, the Uroch would send word. Now and then we saw our allies on the road, going about their business. They wore white armbands and lifted their clawed hands in greeting. I wondered if I would ever get used to that.

So blasted strange.

Gavin and I traveled without trouble; and in the fall, it was easy to find forage—berries and nuts, ripe fruit on wild trees and fat hares lazy from eating all summer long. In that fashion we traveled from town to town carrying our tidings. Gavin stayed with me as I found the families and told them, one by one. In Gaspard, there weren’t many, but the weeping was fierce in Lorraine. We stayed there for two days, telling stories so that grieving relatives could comfort themselves with the knowledge that their loved ones had been heroes. And they were, of course, every last one of them. It didn’t require daring deeds, only the courage to stand when everyone else was running.

In Lorraine, I also visited Stalker’s grave. As promised, the stone marker had been carved with his name, Stalker the Wolf, and I touched the letters with reverent fingertips. Gavin watched me in silence for a few moments.

“Do you miss him?” he asked.

“Every day.”

We won, my friend. I wish you were here to see it.

We went to Otterburn next, and it surprised me a little because I hadn’t expected them to send anyone, ever. The counterman had been so definite about the tithe and their determination not to get involved in the war. But there were fifteen names on my list, men and women who decided they’d rather fight than cower.

“This is an ugly town,” Gavin said, as we approached.

Though I agreed, it wasn’t polite to say so where the residents could hear. I shushed him. People were already gathering; at first I didn’t understand why, but then John Kelley called, “I wondered when you’d get here.”

As he had before, the trader must’ve carried word about my mission. So the people were already braced and waiting. Without further delay, I read out the names, and two women fell to their knees crying. Others comforted them. I was tired of walking, tired of bearing bad tidings, but I still had Winterville before I could return to my family in Soldier’s Pond. Rex, Fade, and Spence should be there by now.

I hoped so, anyway.

“Thank you,” I said, striding through the dispersing crowd to meet the trader. “The only reason we won at the river is because you blackmailed the towns into sending help.”

The trader grinned. “Not just me. Vince Howe and Marlon Bean got in on the action too. We all did some shooting that day. Haven’t felt so alive in years.”

“It was a day to remember all right,” I admitted.

Not just in good ways. But I wouldn’t spoil the moment with my dark memories.

“Where are you headed next?”

“Tomorrow, we’re off to Winterville,” I said. “Then Soldier’s Pond.”

“I’ll buy you a round at the pub, if you like.”

I shook my head. “There’s somebody I need to find, here.”

“Who? I might know him. Otterburn’s a pretty small place.”

I tried to picture the girl Szarok had put in my head, then I did my best to describe her. “I’m not sure of her name … and she’d be older now, maybe by as many as ten years.”

“There aren’t too many black-haired, blue-eyed girls living here. Let me ask around.” Before I could say this was my responsibility, John Kelley took off.

And, honestly, I was weary enough that I didn’t mind. I opened my pack and ate some nuts and berries we’d picked on the way to town. Sitting nearby, Gavin devoured his share; I’d noticed how he always stayed close enough to touch me, nothing obvious, just a bump of his foot or an awkward jab of elbow. At some point over the last few weeks, we’d become family.

A bit later, John Kelley came back with news. “There are two girls that could be who you’re looking for. Should I send for them?”

“If you don’t mind.”

Confluence

One look, and I recognized the child from Szarok’s memory, so I dismissed the other. She seemed nervous when I did so. She was a year younger than I was, with long black hair and eyes like the heart of a flower. Before I could stop her, she dropped to one knee, like I was a princess from one of Morrow’s stories. Wide-eyed, I glanced at Gavin, who shrugged. He had spent too much time smelling me on the road to think I was special.

A number of Otterburn folk lingered to hear what I wanted from her, and I ignored them. When I pulled her to her feet, the girl was shaking. She kept her gaze turned down.

“What’s your name?” I asked gently.

“Millie, ma’am.”

I debated inwardly whether I should tell her in private, but then I decided such recognition would probably raise her status in town—and she deserved it. “Do you recall tending an injured creature in the woods when you were small?”

Her head jerked up. “Yes, ma’am.”

“She’s always dragging home some wounded thing and doctoring it,” a man volunteered.

“But this wasn’t a rabbit or a squirrel, was it, Millie?”

She paled. “No. Am I in trouble? I never brought it near the village.”

“The exact opposite,” I assured her. “I’ve actually come to thank you. Because what you did when you were a little girl saved our lives.”

By the look on her face, she had no idea what I was talking about … and she suspected I was crazy. So I explained what Szarok had told me—omitting the part where he shared the memory directly—and by the time I finished, everyone in Otterburn was staring at her as if she were the biggest hero they’d ever seen.

“So he remembered me?” she asked in a tiny voice.

“He did. And he told his son how kind you were. It’s what made the Uroch decide to ally with us instead of fighting alongside their kin. You first gave them hope that we could be persuaded to make peace.”

“I did that?”

I smiled at her. “Never underestimate your importance, Millie. You’re a hero, same as anybody who fought at the river … and maybe more. Because it takes more courage to heal the world’s hurts than to inflict them.”

They threw a party in Otterburn that night in Millie’s honor—and in celebration of the permanent end to the tithes. Gavin and I crept away while she basked in the attention, and we got half a day down the road before I was too tired to continue, and we made camp by moonlight. In the morning, we walked on, and a few days later, we made Winterville, where I repeated the tidings with the same results that I’d received in all the towns.

Dr. Wilson hadn’t lost anyone but he came out to see me before we left. “Is Tegan well?”

I laughed. “She is. Tending the wounded in Rosemere, last I heard.”

The scientist nodded. “Good. You remind her she promised she’d study with me if she made it through your mad war.”

“I will.”

“Are we done here?” Gavin demanded.

He had been patient, but the days were cooling off, and I was weary of wandering. We caught a ride with a trader I didn’t know on his way to Soldier’s Pond—and though the mules were slow, I didn’t complain. That night, I dreamed of Longshot; it was the shortest dream I ever had, but one I would cherish until the day I died. We stood in a field of gold, the sun shining down. He was hale and whole as he walked with me.

For a little while he said nothing, then: “I’m proud of you, girl.”

Then he turned, melting into the light, until I could see only his face. He offered me one final two-fingered salute, and I woke smiling. Gavin was staring at me because I didn’t usually awaken in such a cheerful mood. The mules were flatulent too, so there was precious little to be happy about, crammed in the back of a wagon amid crates of trade goods. Yet I was.

“We’re almost there,” he said.

I hadn’t asked if he wanted to stay in Winterville. No doubt he didn’t, as he’d lost both his parents, and he’d seemed truly eager to get away. At this point I didn’t know what to do with him, but I’d figure it out. A few hours later, Soldier’s Pond appeared in the distance. It took forever for the wagons to reach the fences. They don’t need them anymore, I thought. The security measures were unhinged for the first time in my memory, and the guards rushed to greet us. I thought they were eager to check out the supplies, but instead, they pulled me out of the wagon and tossed me up on their shoulders. Other towns had welcomed me, but never like this.

As the soldiers carried me, the crowd beyond the gates chanted, “Huntress! Huntress!” until I couldn’t hear anything but that. The wild nature of the greeting was unsettling, as if in their eagerness they might pull me apart, like dogs too hungry for the same bone. I tolerated the attention until we got some distance into town, then I shouted, “Put me down!”

“Give the heroine some room,” the colonel ordered.

Colonel Park pushed through the mob toward me, gesturing so that everyone backed off. I appreciated that, even as I said, “I don’t want a party. Tell me something of substance.”

“I’ve received word from Appleton … your Szarok wants to draft permanent peace treaties … and trade agreements. As part of the accord, they’re offering to share some new technology with us. They’ve apparently found some fascinating things in the ruins and they’re working out how to use them.”

I remembered the exploding sticks Szarok and I had used in signaling each other, and I nodded. “It would be a mistake to underestimate them … or to treat the Uroch with anything less than absolute courtesy.”

They had done a brave and awful thing by killing their brethren. If my elders all went mad, I didn’t know whether I could ally with the enemy to end the threat, no matter how much they deserved it. Just thinking about it turned my stomach.

“It’s a new world, Deuce.” The colonel smiled.

I leveled a hard look on her. “I can trust you with this, right?”

Colonel Park didn’t take offense at the implication. “I’ll offer fair terms and respect their customs. Nobody wants the hostilities to resume.”

Satisfied, I figured it was time to leave the details to other people. Councilmen and mayors in towns all over the territories could sign documents and make promises. To my mind, I had done enough.

“I thought your hands were tied,” I said then. “Your power limited.”

She shrugged. “I ignored them. They blustered for a while, but the men demanded to march, especially when Vince Howe started yelling about how we’d never see a single wagon load of anything if we were such yellow cowards that we’d let you die.”

“Sounds like quite a speech. Where’s my family?” I rose on tiptoe and peered through the milling crowd. These men had known me for a while, but they all seemed unduly impressed, like I was about to be amazing while starving, cranky, and covered in road dust. My back was sore, too, from the wagon.

“Here,” Momma Oaks called.

I swear she pushed two men down in her haste to reach me. Her face bore heavier lines, but her eyes were warm and calm. When her arms wrapped around me, I breathed her in so deep. I clung and clung to her, promising myself that I’d never worry her so again.

“Did Rex get back safe?” I asked, stepping back.

“He sure did. Fade, too, and that poor boy, Spence.” By her soft tone, I could tell she’d claimed him, too, so the mothering would never end. It might even be enough to save him.

Gavin peeped around my shoulder, catching my mother’s attention. I grinned. “Then I have a surprise for you. I marched one son off to war, but I brought back two.”

Both her brows shot up. “It’s not nice to tease, Deuce.”

“I’m not,” I told her. “Gavin lost his mum and dad, and he needs a place to stay. Do you think Edmund could use another assistant in the shop?”

With sharp eyes, she catalogued how badly he needed a bath, all the rips in his clothing, then she put an arm about him. “I’m sure he could. And we have plenty of bunks.”

Though I was eager to see them, I was glad the others hadn’t come to the gate. I didn’t want to greet Fade with so many witnesses and Edmund might cry, but he’d pretend he had dirt in his eyes. Momma Oaks shouldered people out of her way, and if they complained, she fixed them with her sternest look. It worked incredibly well, so that she cleared a path in no time.

First thing, I saw Fade waiting outside, well enough to stand. Forgetting my exhaustion, I ran to him and he caught me with an arm around my waist. In front of my family, he kissed the life out of me, as if it had been longer than a month. When we broke apart, Edmund was tapping his foot.

“Is there something you want to say to me, son?”

My cheeks went hot, and I started to protest. Luckily Momma Oaks intervened by introducing Gavin, then she pointed out how poor the boy’s shoes were. Nothing ever motivated my father like the sight of a child in torn footwear, and he was off to his workshop like a shot. For a moment, I frowned because I hadn’t gotten a hug from him or a pat on the shoulder, even.

Momma Oaks winked at me. “You have to expect that sort of thing. You’re not an only child anymore.”

I laughed and put away my mild annoyance because it was so good to be back with them. Rex gave me the tight squeeze I had been looking for and he spun me, planting a noisy kiss on top of my head. “It’s so good to see you. I was starting to worry.”

“It’s not dangerous anymore,” I said. “Well. Just the normal road hazards.”

After that, I broke away from Fade, reluctantly, for a bath. Then Momma Oaks did my hair. For the first time in longer than I could recall, I put on a dress, not because someone was making me, but because I wanted to look pretty, as much as I could, anyway. Life in the field had pared me down, so I didn’t look womanly or even strong but Fade lit up when he saw me.

I hope he never stops looking at me that way.

Whether I wanted one or not, they threw me a party. It was a wild night with piping, drums, and dancing. I sat out because Fade wasn’t up to such acrobatics. The worst thing about this town was the lack of privacy. Late that evening, we crept away and couldn’t find a quiet corner to save our souls. The empty houses had been filled with men who had come from other towns and traveled to Soldier’s Pond with the survivors from Company D. All told, it was probably a good thing, as I hadn’t spoken with Momma Oaks yet about certain private matters. So we came back to the party and nestled close, content just being together.

The days soon fell into a routine with Fade recovering, Gavin and Rex working with Edmund at the workshop, and Momma Oaks keeping busy as best she could. But she wasn’t happy in Soldier’s Pond; and it was time for me to offer a gift in return for those she’d given me.

So two weeks after I arrived, I sat down with her for breakfast. It was late morning—she’d let me sleep in—so there were few people around. The movements outside were so familiar, men running in formation and soldiers sparring. For some people, this probably felt like home, but to me, it was only a place that sheltered us for a while.

First, however …

“I was wondering if you’d tell me the best way to keep from making any brats?”

She startled me by providing the information in detail. By the time she finished, I was bright red, but considerably enlightened. Her eyes twinkled at my expression. This woman never stopped delighting me, so I kissed her cheek and thanked her.

“I don’t want to stay here,” I added quietly.

Her chin lifted in surprise, and I suspected she was braced for me to name some other crazy job that needed doing, which would end with me tired and hurt and her with more gray hair from sitting at home, worried. “Where are you going?”

There were never any complaints from her, no arguments or attempts to change my mind. I teased her a little, though. “A town called Rosemere.”

“Tell me about it?”

So I did. With eloquence I seldom owned, I described the village in detail. Her face softened as she listened and a smile formed. Momma Oaks covered me in questions about the people, the customs, the boats, and the market. She seemed half in love with the place before I concluded my account, and she didn’t even know what I had in mind.

“But I’m not the only one moving,” I said at last. “You and Edmund should pack your things. Soldier’s Pond is a worthy place, but it’s not for us.”

“Will they let us in? Is there enough space?”

She was still thinking like a refugee, like someone who had lived her whole life bound by Salvation’s restrictions. I put my hand over hers. “Momma, there are no walls. Evergreen Isle is huge, and the village has lots of room for new houses. You’ll love it. Trust me.”

“I do,” she said with teary eyes. “I’m sure it’s everything you say.”

“I don’t plan to winter here. If we hurry, we can get there before the first snow. And we might be able to build before the ground freezes.”

With those words it was like I lit a fire under her. “You’d be surprised how fast I can pack when I’m driven.”

“Nothing good about you would surprise me at all,” I whispered, but she was already out the door, ready to uproot their lives on my word.

I don’t deserve to be this lucky.

Fade met me outside the bunkhouse. “I hear we’re moving to Rosemere.”

“Is that all right?”

“It’s a little late to be asking my thoughts, isn’t it?” In the morning light, I couldn’t read his expression. Sometimes I worried that things were different between us, but I hoped it was because we slept in a room with my parents, not because he was mad that I’d left him to heal up alone while I did my duty to the families of the fallen.

“We were so happy there,” I whispered.

Then he smiled, assuaging my anxiety. “I can’t conceive of anything I’d like more. I loved everything about it.”

“Tegan’s still there with Morrow. Maybe she’ll stay.” That would please me mightily, as I’d have all my friends and loved ones close by.

“I hope so,” Fade said.

It occurred to me then that he might be wondering, but feeling too shy to ask. So I whispered, “I’m not breeding, by the way.”

Fade hunched his shoulders. “I think Edmund knows. He keeps staring at me.”

“That only works if you have a guilty conscience, son.” My father’s comment made both of us jump. He stood on the path with his arms folded, tapping one foot. “I thought you said your intentions were honorable.”

I might die of this, not in battle.

“They are,” Fade said quietly.

“Then it’s time to make good on those promises, if you mean to build a life together.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

But Edmund was already calling for Momma Oaks. “You need two witnesses.”

I stared at Fade, wondering what was going on. My mother came out with a bolt of fabric in her hands, looking annoyed at the interruption. “What’s all the bother?”

Edmund studied me with sweetness in his eyes. So whatever he was about, he didn’t have bad intentions. “Fade, do you promise to be hers, always?”

“I do,” he answered.

“And, Deuce, do you swear to be his, forever?”

“Yes,” I said, annoyed. “He’s already mine, and I’m already his.”

Edmund muttered, “Thought so. That’s why you needed to make it official.”

“You have no sense,” Momma Oaks chided him.

Fade and I traded bewildered looks and I asked, “What just happened?”

“You didn’t tell them they were plighting their troth?” my mother demanded.

“They knew.” Edmund showed no remorse.

“A wedding should have more ceremony. She should be wearing her best dress, and there should be food and guests, music, a cake—”

“Did you want any of that?” my father asked.

I shook my head. I’d only ever wanted Fade, and from what I could tell, this didn’t change anything. I’d already promised him forever, just not in front of witnesses, which seemed to be the crucial part. So if Edmund wanted me to tell everyone in Soldier’s Pond, I would.

Fade was mine, and I was never letting him go. As I’d told him once, and as I’d proven time and again, I’d fight for him.

And I’d never stop.

Adieu

Two days later, Soldier’s Pond didn’t want us to leave.

In the end, I talked Colonel Park into it by promising to send letters with the traders when they came to Rosemere. She clutched my hands, more personal than she’d ever been with me. “You’ll advise me if I need it? You’ve dealt more with the Uroch than anyone. I’m worried about offending them.”

“Treat them like people,” I said. “You can’t go wrong like that. But, yes, I’ll help if you need me to.”

I hoped there would be no pleas, no emergencies. The world should sort out its own business, so far as I was concerned. I saluted her and left HQ for the last time to join my family at the gate. The guards had loaded a wagon for us, full of fabrics Momma Oaks had begged or borrowed, Edmund’s supplies, and the few personal effects the rest of us had accrued. Rex snapped the lines and the mules trotted forward. Spence was a reluctant companion on this journey, but we agreed he couldn’t be left on his own. Fade sat in the back with Momma Oaks while Edmund perched up front beside his son. Gavin and I walked alongside because I had rested long enough, and I’d traveled by wagon often enough to be sure I didn’t want to do it more than necessary.

As we drove away, the sentries shouted, “Huntress,” like I wasn’t tired of hearing it.

Rex cast a look over his shoulder. “Doesn’t that get wearisome?”

“You have no idea,” I muttered.

We took the journey in easy stages, and it was nice to journey with my family. Now and then we passed other travelers—and not just traders making supply runs as it had been in the days before the victory at the river. Some were human, some Uroch, and occasionally we spotted small groups of Gulgur, though they seemed shy and didn’t speak.

The days were chilly but not freezing, but the nights dropped down cold, and we huddled together under the wagon for warmth and comfort. Gavin acted a bit nervous at first, like he suspected this was all a trick, and when he got comfortable with the idea of being part of a family, we’d take it all away. But by the time we arrived at the big river, he was cuddling up to Momma Oaks. I knew exactly how he felt because I had walked in his shoes, wary and distrustful, unable to believe anybody could care about me without asking for something in return.

By then, the trees flamed with color on the Evergreen Isle. The name was deceptive, as only a portion of them had perpetually green needles while the rest turned crimson and gold, framing the village barely visible from this side. Rex paused on a rise, the mules shifting nervously in their traces. Edmund’s hand rested on his shoulder and Momma Oaks pushed to her feet to get a better look. She focused on row after row of grave markers in the field nearby. It hadn’t been long enough for grass to grow and it was too late in the year besides, so the graves contrasted sharply with the brown grass.

“So many dead,” she whispered. “It could’ve been any of you, all of you.”

Edmund shifted in his seat and dug for a smile. This was why I loved him; his steadiness kept her from sorrow. “But it wasn’t.”

As they spoke, Gavin nudged me, offering the tattered banner. “This is yours.”

But I had noticed how much he loved it. So I got out my knife and cut away the fabric Momma Oaks had used to sew my token in place. I reclaimed the card. “No, this is mine. The pennant’s yours. You guarded it well.”

Gavin ducked his head and curled up beside Momma Oaks. I could tell I’d pleased him.

“Let’s go,” Edmund said. “I’d like to see the place I’ll be calling home.”

The wagon trundled on, all the way to the water, where sailors worked the river. Rex whistled and I shouted until one of them saw us. He turned his craft, willing to help us cross. I cursed when he recognized me because his manner went from friendly to reverent.

“I can’t take everyone,” he apologized, looking stricken. “But I’ll send more boats to carry the rest, plus all your belongings.”

“You and Edmund go with him.” I hugged Momma Oaks, and she looked so excited as my father helped her into the boat.

She held on tight as the man adjusted the sail so the wind would send him back to the isle. Relatively speaking, it didn’t take long for more boatmen to arrive. It was lucky we had relatively little—and none of it heavy—but Edmund and Momma Oaks were skilled crafters, so we’d be comfortable soon enough.

Rosemere hasn’t changed, I thought, as Rex helped me ashore. My parents stood nearby, marveling at the beauty of the place. As soon as he got word, the governor came down to welcome us, shaking my hand firmly and expressing pleasure that I’d brought my parents. They seemed awed by the attention, and though I was past the point of savoring it, their enjoyment was reason enough for me not to run off with Fade or go looking for Stone and Thimble.

“How’s Morrow?” I asked when he paused in his polite remarks.

“He’s well, though it was a near thing. I have Doctor Tegan to thank for his life.”

“She’s amazing,” I agreed. “I’m sorry he got hurt. You probably blame me for getting him into trouble, and I’m sorry about that too.”

To my surprise, the elder Morrow laughed. “Not at all. Nobody has ever been able to prevent James from doing exactly as he pleases, not even me. The only thing I can do is be here when he comes home.”

Momma Oaks aimed a pointed look in my direction. “It seems we have something in common, sir.”

The governor smiled. “So I notice. You’ve an impressive number of bags and boxes for a visit. Have you come to stay?”

“If you’ll have us,” Edmund said.

Before I could respond, he was telling Mr. Morrow about his skill as a cobbler and how fine a seamstress Momma Oaks was. I could’ve hugged the governor when he said, “We can definitely use people of such skill.”

If there was one way to make my parents feel at home, it was by implying they were needed. I listened to them idly, leaning against Fade for warmth, until the governor decided nothing would do but for us to stay as his guests. I declined, preferring to occupy Stone and Thimble’s loft, but Momma Oaks, Edmund, Rex, and Gavin accompanied Mr. Morrow. His family lived in the largest house on the island, so there would be plenty of space.

Fade and I went along to our friends’ cottage. I rapped on the door, hoping they’d be glad to see me. Thimble’s face lit with pleasure when she answered and she swept me into a tight hug; I wasn’t the only one who had put aside lessons learned down below in favor of better and brighter ones.

“Dare I hope you’ve come to stay?” she asked.

“We have. Not with you,” I added. “At least not forever. But I’d appreciate it if we could board here while we figure out something more permanent.”

Thimble smiled as she stepped back to let us in. “Of course you’re welcome.”

Stone echoed her warm acceptance, and he seemed genuinely glad to see us. We’d all changed so much, but not to the point that we were strangers to one another. That night over dinner, we talked until our throats were hoarse, filling in all the gaps and smoothing the rough spots. Robin was adorable, and while Thimble cleaned up from supper, I held him, and Fade caught me smelling the brat’s hair. I ducked my head, conscious of how absurd I likely looked, but his eyes were hot when they lingered.

Later, in the loft, Fade whispered, “I’ve been dying for some time alone with you.”

He’d spoken those words before, more than once, but this time, I knew what he meant. I rolled over and kissed him, then we practiced some more, quietly, and this time, we got it exactly right. Afterward, I traced the scar on his side. Fade shivered at my touch, pressing closer.

“I came so close to losing you,” I murmured.

“You never will.”

I kissed him once and again, counting back all the times he’d kissed me, until I lost track of the numbers. That got him worked up again, so it was a while before we settled. But a quiet doubt trickled into my mind.

“What was that?” Fade had always been good at reading me.

“Is it all right? When I touch you.”

“It’s the best thing in the world.” But that wasn’t what I was asking—and he knew it. So he added, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be completely fine. And sometimes I have bad dreams. But when you’re near, everything feels better.”

“Then I’ll stay close,” I promised.

Unexpectedly he stirred, digging around in his pack. “I have something for you.”

I sat up, intrigued. “What is it?”

In reply, he produced a shiny silver wire, festooned with sparkling stones, and I lost my breath. “What … when?”

Somehow he interpreted my incoherence correctly. “I bought it after you left. I remembered how much you admired it. I probably should’ve given it to you when Edmund married us in Soldier’s Pond. But I was waiting for the right moment.”

As he fastened it around my wrist, I whispered, “It’s perfect.” And silently vowed never to take the bracelet off.

In the morning, we began our life together.

After breakfast, we strolled through the village hand in hand; I had no particular destination in mind, but when Fade led me past the docks, I realized he did. He didn’t go far, past the last cottages, up a gentle knoll, where the view was incredible. From this vantage, I saw the market, the boats on the river, and the governor’s house on the other side of Rosemere.

“This is where I want to build,” he said. “If you’re willing.”

Since I’d decided where we would live without asking him, it seemed fitting for him to choose the site where we’d raise our home and—if life was kind—grow old together, not as people did down below, but like Edmund and Momma Oaks. My heart swelled with the possibility; we could have years and years here in this beautiful place. It was so much more than I ever could’ve dreamed.

“It’s beautiful. Do we need permission?”

“I already asked.”

I canted my head in surprise. “When?”

“Before you got up this morning. For some reason, you were extra tired.” Fade wore a wicked grin, such pure temptation that I considered pushing him down into the bracken to show him what tired felt like.

But we had work to do first.

As I saw it, there was one benefit to being the Huntress. The way people watched me when we walked back through the village annoyed me, but also meant that volunteers came out in droves to help build our cottage, once we assembled the materials. With half of Rosemere pitching in, the walls went up fast, then the builders filled in the stones and laid the floors. Stone and Thimble helped, as they’d crafted their cottage, and Thimble had worked out all manner of cunning tricks to make a home snug and cozy.

The only dark cloud came from Tegan. One day, while I was working alongside Fade, she made her way out to the site; she stood watching us with a thoughtful expression. I set down my stone and hurried over to her. In my haste to get our house finished, I hadn’t seen her as much as I’d have liked. I had reckoned there would be plenty of time to visit this winter. But the melancholy in her expression told me that probably wasn’t so.

“You can’t go,” I said quietly. “I can’t say good-bye to you, Tegan. Don’t ask that of me.”

My heart broke a little when I recalled Stalker whispering those words to me, just before I ran into the horde. I thought of him often, amid my happiness, and his death was one of my fiercest regrets. I saw that shadow in Tegan’s face too.

“Deuce,” she whispered. “It’s time for me to keep my promise.”

I knew the one she meant—to Dr. Wilson—and I was supposed to remind her of it, but selfishly I’d hoped she would forget. She didn’t belong in Winterville … or maybe she did, and I just wished she didn’t because I needed her nearby.

“He knows so much, and I want to learn it all. I feel like I have to.”

I understood that impetus, too, but I wished I could convince her that she didn’t have to be anything in particular to be worth saving. Choking up, I reached for her, and she hugged me too tight for long moments. Somehow I managed not to weep into her shoulder. We whispered to each other that it wasn’t forever—we would visit and send letters with the traders as they came and went—but we both knew we had come to the parting of the ways. From this point on, there would be no more adventures, no more wayfaring. She would go to Winterville and become a learned soul while I stayed here on the isle.

“Let me go,” she commanded.

And I did.

I turned around so I didn’t have to watch her leave, then I sank to the ground and cried. Sometimes it felt as if all happiness came at a price. You could never, ever, have perfection. Life gave you beauty so you could bear the pain. At length, I dried my tears because Fade wore his fierce and brooding look, and I never knew how he would react. Tegan wouldn’t thank me if my man charged after her and brought her back because her path was making me sad.

Then I paused my work on the cottage to go to the governor’s manor. One person in Rosemere would share my sorrow in equal measure.

Morrow opened the door when I knocked as if he had been expecting me. His face was thin and pale, newly marked with a red scar. The rest of him seemed sound enough, though he still hadn’t regained his full strength. I gave him my arm as he escorted me to a large room with a crackling fire. When I was working I didn’t notice the nip in the air as much as when I stopped.

“She’s gone,” I said softly.

He lowered his head, the hair falling into his clever face. “I know.”

“How long before you go after her?”

“I’ll give her the winter, long enough to miss me.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” I guessed he hadn’t told her how he felt about her; I could’ve explained why she was so leery of men. But as promised, I had kept Tegan’s secret, and nobody knew what she’d suffered in the ruins. With Stalker dead, the truth would die with me.

“Then I’ll come and go until she asks me to stay.” His smile was a sweet and somber thing. “I’m working on your story, you know. It’s keeping me busy during my convalescence. I hope to have a draft ready for you to read by spring.”

I smiled at that. “Fade can read it to me. It’s not my strong suit.”

For a few seconds, I imagined curling up with my man before a fire, listening to Morrow’s words. I couldn’t imagine anything better. We talked a little longer, enough for me to be sure he’d be all right in Tegan’s absence, but the storyteller was stronger than he looked and he had one precious gift that rendered him invincible—eternal hope. Either that, or he was mad, which might explain why he’d followed me.

“I plan to call it the Razorland saga,” he told me.

“Why?”

“Because of something you said when you were telling me about your journey north … about how the world’s all razors that cut you no matter what you do.”

“It isn’t anymore,” I said softly.

“Thanks to us.” Morrow flashed his charming smile, but I saw the bittersweet tinge to his gaze. He would miss Tegan too.

“One thing I’ve always wondered … why do you greet the colonel by kissing her on both cheeks? It seems like that would annoy Morgan.”

“I’m Rosemere’s diplomatic envoy,” he replied. “My father knew he had to find work to satisfy my need to wander. That’s the customary kiss of peace.”

“Ah.” I should have known he was more important than he let on, just a storyteller indeed. “Then why didn’t you identify yourself when you were traveling with me?”

His look turned sheepish. “Because I didn’t have approval for the mission. My father wouldn’t have gotten involved. So I couldn’t claim to represent Rosemere when we were building Company D. That, I did as James Morrow.”

I stood, kissed his cheek, and said, “I’ll always be grateful.”

Then I went back to work, along with half the village. The construction seemed to focus Spence, giving him something else to think about, and Rex kept him company. Spence liked him best because they shared a common loss. They didn’t talk much, but a certain bond was forming between them. They were also working on a house for Edmund and Momma Oaks, a fact that delighted me. I’d kept the promise to myself at last—and given them a new home. Gavin cavorted more than he worked, proud as a young peacock in his new cloak, which bore the insignia from Company D.

With constant labor, it took under a month to complete the cottage, just before the first snowfall. Awed and delighted, I stood inside with Fade, unable to believe we had a place of our own. People soon arrived with housewarming gifts, a tradition on the isle. Stone delivered furniture that Thimble had built while Momma Oaks brought cushions and curtains for the windows. She fussed and helped me hang them while other village women offered dishes and pots for cooking, linens, blankets, and boxes I didn’t open straightaway.

It was late in the day when they all departed—and along with the small touches, we had a table, chairs, and a bed with a newly stuffed mattress. The cottage was designed much like Stone and Thimble’s; for a moment, I let my mind wander, imagining how the years would pass. While I pondered, Fade built a fire in the hearth, the first in our own home. Wonder stole my breath and called tears to my eyes. I refused to let them fall.

I opened our first gift. Someone had given us a picture frame and I knew what to put in it. “Do you still have your token from down below?”

“Of course,” he said. “It’s stupid, but I can’t make myself discard the thing.”

“I’m glad.” I placed his paper and my card inside the frame, and then I went in search of hammer and nail.

Our talismans adorned our new home, and that seemed fitting, part of the old life to carry into the new one. Next I rummaged in my pack and laid out my two greatest treasures: Longshot’s maps and the book Fade and I had found in the ruins. He came to see what I had, then he touched the leather with reverent hands, as if the story meant as much to him.

“I can’t believe you still have it. And it’s still intact, too.”

“I kept it wrapped in oilcloth. Would you read me the end?”

Fade pitched his voice low—and the story had more resonance now.

They were married that very day. And the next day they went together to the king and told him the whole story. But whom should they find at the court but the father and mother of Photogen, both in high favor with the king and queen. Aurora nearly died with joy, and told them all how Watho had lied and made her believe her child was dead.

No one knew anything of the father or mother of Nycteris; but when Aurora saw in the lovely girl her own azure eyes shining through night and its clouds, it made her think strange things, and wonder how even the wicked themselves may be a link to join together the good. Through Watho, the mothers, who had never seen each other, had changed eyes in their children.

The king gave them the castle and lands of Watho, and there they lived and taught each other for many years that were not long. But hardly had one of them passed, before Nycteris had come to love the day best, because it was the clothing and crown of Photogen, and she saw that the day was greater than the night, and the sun more lordly than the moon; and Photogen had come to love the night best, because it was the mother and home of Nycteris.

“But who knows,” Nycteris would say to Photogen, “that when we go out, we shall not go into a day as much greater than your day as your day is greater than my night?”

When he finished, I kissed him and whispered, “I love you, Fade,” because that was what I’d failed to say when I lay feverish in the wagon. Wearing a smile so broad it threatened to crack his cheeks, he scooped me up and carried me to a chair, a capacious seat with broad arms and fat cushions, cozy enough for two. Idly I wondered if Thimble had designed it for sparking. Today, my muscles ached from work more pleasant than constant fighting.

Silk was wrong, I thought. I have a Builder’s heart.

“I’m glad the story ends that way. So that even the king couldn’t part them. Like us.”

“What are kings to us?” Fade asked with a cocky grin. “We changed the world.”

Incredibly, it was true. I rose to set the book on the mantelshelf above the hearth. Then I added Longshot’s folio. “There. That’s perfect.”

“What will you do with those maps?” Fade asked, following me with his gaze.

“Give them to our brats,” I answered.

It was the best legacy I could envision, like giving them the world.

“I don’t want to wait to name them.”

By Fade’s expression, he felt strongly about that.

“Me either. We’ll follow topside tradition like Stone and Thimble.”

“Did you see how much food they put in our cupboards?” he asked lazily, changing the subject.

I was glad; it was a little soon to be talking about expanding our family. Cheeks hot, I shook my head. I’d been busy with Momma Oaks, making the place cozy. “A lot?”

Fade watched me with silent admiration. In a moment or two, it would ripen into desire, and we had every right to wander into the back room. Nobody would interrupt or summon us to other business. That was … astonishing.

“Enough for the whole winter, I expect.”

“We’ve earned a few months of leisure,” I told him.

“What will you do, come spring?” He reached for me then.

I sank onto his lap. Fade nuzzled my neck, and I put my hand to his jaw. “Be with you.”

And I kept my promise. Always.

Epilogue

On Evergreen Isle lies the town of Rosemere, and within the bounds of that village, there’s a white stone cottage where an elderly couple lives. Pink roses twine around a whitewashed lattice out front, and ivy climbs the garden walls in back. It’s a peaceful place, all sunlight and dappled green. There’s a cherry tree in the yard, and when he’s asked, “Why cherries?” the man who planted it years ago smiles and says, “Because she loves them.”

Inside the cottage, a frame on the wall holds an old scrap of paper and a playing card, the deuce of spades. Above the hearth, there’s a shelf, where two books sit between wooden statues. One is very old, produced by the world before, and its spine is imprinted with the title The Day Boy and the Night Girl. The other is written on parchment in a fine hand, illustrated in colorful inks, and hand bound in leather. The first page reads, The Razorland Saga by James Morrow. Though they have a library full of books to choose from, village children often ask for this story, for they’re enchanted by Tegan of the Staff, Stalker the Wolf, Deuce the Huntress, and He Whose Colors Will Not Fade. They’re comforted by these familiar legends and the account of how the world came to hold its current shape.

When he’s not reading to children who have stolen away from their chores, the man spends his days making armor for young people determined to seek their fortunes and see the world. Until recently, his wife taught those adventurers how to fight, preparing them for the journey. But now that his hair has gone white and hers silver, she prefers to tend her garden. They have children, this pair—long since grown and gone away, exploring through a legacy of maps. Sometimes they, too, visit with stories; they ask the boatman to bring them home, and their parents are always pleased, welcoming them with the same gladness they learned long ago from people who loved them too much to make them stay when the world was calling.

Tales abound regarding the role these two played in the War of the River, before the Gulgur rose from down below, before the Uroch signed the peace treaties, but as time wears on, their neighbors can hardly credit that this sweet couple is as dangerous as the legends claim. Therefore, folks suspect their friend, Morrow the Storyteller, must have exaggerated the accounts. Sometimes, a cloaked figure is spotted slipping in and out of the house, but nobody can say who it might be. This aged pair enjoys their small intrigues even yet.

Most locals would dismiss the folklore entirely, except that once a year—on the Day of Peace—the pilgrimages commence. People travel from as far away as Gaspard, from Winterville, Otterburn, Lorraine, and Soldier’s Pond, all over the free territories—and they bring gifts. For three days and nights, they camp outside the cottage in Rosemere, hoping to meet the Huntress and He Whose Colors Will Not Fade. Once a year, these two tell the tale in their own words, not Morrow’s, to those who care to listen.

Because these two believed their actions mattered, because the Huntress chose peace, forgave her enemy, and laid down her knives, the territories changed forever. That is the lesson of ultimate courage, taught by Tegan of the Staff, who devotes her life to learning in honor of a sacrifice made so very long ago. This is the story written in the bones, and that homage will continue as long as the world turns, until it loses its ragged edge, and new heroes arise.

But those are other stories.