That, I understood. Hadn’t I been terrified of seeking him out? He had a unique ability to climb inside and twist my heart. Maybe I had that power over him too. Stunning thought.
“I would never hurt you on purpose,” I said. And relief flickered in his face, so I knew I was right. I went on, “If you don’t tell me what’s on your mind, I can’t guess. Remember … I’m not smart about this kind of thing. Fighting—or training—is all I’ve ever known.”
He touched my cheek. “We’ll figure it out together.”
My heart lightened. This Topside exile might be bearable after all, if I could fight during the day and enjoy Fade’s kisses when we weren’t working. I was glad I’d chosen to invite him into our patrol. It would have hurt him if he’d discovered I was out with Stalker, and I hadn’t talked to him about it. He’d have seen it as another instance of me choosing the other boy over him, instead of the truth, which was that Stalker made himself more available—and he came looking for me.
But now I understood why. I had to be more careful. Welcoming him into my room—and talking about running away together—had probably given Stalker ideas about my intentions … and my feelings for him. I sighed faintly. The conversation where I explained the mistake didn’t seem likely to go well.
“What’s wrong?”
This was one burden I couldn’t share. I had made the mess through my lack of understanding about how males and females related to one another, so I’d clean it up. But, really, where would I have learned? Certainly not down below, where I was a Huntress. Silk would have stabbed me if she’d caught me wondering about my feelings. Such weakness was limited to Breeders and rightly so.
I sighed. “I’m just sorry we spent two months apart.”
“Well, I was done chasing you,” he muttered. “I made it clear how I felt the night Longshot found us.”
If he had, I didn’t recall. I’d been feverish and terrified Tegan would die. Everything besides that vivid dream of Silk telling me to keep the fire burning was a blur. I did recollect lying in his arms, I thought, with our friend stretched across our laps, but I didn’t know that meant anything special.
“I don’t know what you said that night,” I admitted. “But you’re the most important person in my life. You’re all I have left.”
That was the wrong thing to say. His long fingers unfurled from mine. “So this is because I remind you of a life you liked better?”
“No.” I made the denial instinctively, but I had to be honest. “I do miss my life, Fade, but isn’t that normal? I lived there for fifteen years. They were my friends and family, my whole world. I’m still trying to figure out how I fit in Topside … and the summer patrol will help.”
“I don’t know if you can understand, but I haven’t had anybody who cared about me, just because I’m me, since my dad died. Everybody else wanted something from me, but it wasn’t personal. I need it to be personal with you.”
“It is,” I promised.
Fade put his arms around me then and held me with desperate strength. My heart raced. He needs you, I thought. Don’t let him down.
I couldn’t remember ever being so happy … or so scared.
Patrol
The following week passed quickly.
When I wasn’t working for my foster mother, I took shooting lessons. I didn’t have a rifle of my own, but if a teammate fell, I should know what to do with his weapon. Though I lacked experience, natural aptitude with armaments stood me in good stead. Practice would make me better yet.
Not surprisingly, at first, Momma Oaks was unhappy with my inclusion in Longshot’s squad. She tried to talk me out of it, lecturing, “There are certain rules to be respected here, Deuce, man’s work and woman’s work. Salvation has functioned successfully on these principles for a hundred years.”
“I’m not from Salvation,” I told her.
But she was just getting warmed up. “You’re a citizen, though, and that means learning our ways. Women tend crops, spin cloth, sew clothing, prepare food—”
“But I’m not good at any of that,” I interrupted. “You say there’s a divine being in charge of the world, right?”
Her look grew uneasy. “Yes, but—”
“Then why did he let me learn to fight and get good at it, if that goes against his rules?”
“Mercy,” she said on a sigh. “Don’t let anyone else hear you say that. That’s perilously close to heresy.” I didn’t know what that was, so I kept quiet. Momma Oaks went on, “If you do this, there may be consequences. People might be … unpleasant over it.”
“Will they give you and Edmund a hard time?”
She squared her shoulders. “They might. But don’t worry about us. We’ve suffered worse. Do what pleases you best, even if it sets tongues to wagging.”
As I hadn’t expected even that much support, I gave her a real smile. “Thanks, Momma Oaks.”
My foster father didn’t share her point of view. So supper was a subdued meal, and I heard Momma Oaks quarreling with Edmund after I went to bed. He seemed inclined to forbid my participation in the summer patrol, and she argued, saying such a course would drive me away, as it had Rex.
I knew there was a reason the son didn’t visit. But that still wasn’t my affair.
Sleep came quickly—and if I had the nightmare, I didn’t remember when I woke. I rose early the next morning, dressed in fighting clothes—trousers and tunic—then ate bread and jam while Edmund snored. After breakfast, I washed up and braided my hair. A few minutes later, I slipped out of the house without waking either of my foster parents and hurried through Salvation.
Before dawn, I met the rest of the team at the barracks, as Longshot had requested. Fade and Stalker were already there, waiting with poorly concealed impatience, whether for me, or to see some action, I couldn’t be sure. I had chosen to lock my window this past week, and Stalker must be wondering why, but I’d opted not to deal with that situation before we started our new job. It seemed best not to meddle with the balance—or maybe I was just being a coward. I had to balance the weight carefully so I didn’t crack.
Fade didn’t try to touch me, despite our new understanding, and I was grateful. I didn’t want the other guards to think of me like that. To that end, I’d left off the woman’s attire; instead, choosing what I’d worn for patrols down below. The men nudged one another, and I swallowed a sigh. The ridiculous restrictions on being female threatened to choke me.
Fortunately, our leader had no interest in my pants. Longshot was already giving orders in his laconic style. “We’ll meet the planters at the front gate and serve as escort out to the fields. Once there, we break into squads of four. One will remain with the workers at all times. The others will patrol.”
“Will we switch off?” one of the guards asked.
It was a smart-enough question that I forgave him for being amazed to see a girl in trousers.
Longshot nodded. “We’ll rotate, so nobody gets bored and comfortable.”
A wise precaution, I thought. If a team watched the planters poking seeds in the ground for too long, it could lead to complacency. And this was an important task. Without a successful growing season, there would be little food for the winter. Slaughtering domesticated beasts could only take the town so far—and I was more aware of the need for proper nutrition than most. It had been one of the immutable laws down below; we ate a certain amount of this or that, or we paid the price with weak, sickly bodies, sooner than the wasting required.
I wondered now if the elders down below had known as much about diet as they claimed … and if the wasting that took our people young had come about through their willful ignorance, making up answers when they had no clear understanding. At some point, one Wordkeeper must have decided it was better to invent rules arbitrarily than to reveal his own lack of knowledge. There were reasons for everything, no doubt, but I would never know them. That way of life was lost to me.
With a determined air, I focused my attention on Longshot, who was giving a few last-minute instructions. Then the others fell in, two by two. It was a more formal procession than I was accustomed to, but I learned the value of the order soon enough. In contrast, the planters were in utter disarray when we arrived. They were men and women both, chosen for their gifts in tending green and growing things. Unfortunately, most of them were not suited to life in the wilderness, and they found even the prospect of the short journey to the fields trying.
“We’ve mislaid a whole bag of seed,” a small man whined, twisting his hands together. “It was put back in storage at the last harvest, and now it’s simply gone.”
With a dark look, Longshot left us while he went to sort the situation. As the man in charge of trade runs, he also took responsibility for the town resources. He looked older than usual this morning and mightily tired, as if herding these growers was more of a burden than he wanted. But he’d been doing this work for better than twenty years, a fact that never ceased astonishing me—and so he did it well, with the expertise born of long experience. In the enclave, elders only lived to be twenty-five or so, withered through some combination of factors I didn’t understand.
I found the chaos fascinating, as people had seldom argued with the elders down below. Here, there were two women haranguing Longshot about the misplaced provisions, something about rodents and dry goods. I was trying not to laugh when Stalker came up beside me. His presence killed my humor quick because guilt sank its fangs into my gut and wouldn’t shake loose. Possibly, I had given him reason to think I felt strongly about him … in ways that led to kissing. Sneaking out to meet him, where we’d talked about our mutual misery and contemplated the idea of running away together—how I wished I had never done it. I should have stuck to sparring. Those nights felt like promises broken now.
“These past few nights, your window has been latched,” he said softly. “What am I to take from that, dove?”
I didn’t fear his anger, but I would regret losing his friendship if it came to that, because he had proven to be fierce, loyal, and steadfast. Nonetheless, it was time to stop avoiding this talk. “I can’t meet you at night anymore.”
“Why not?”
Surely he knew, but he wanted to make me say it. “I—”
“Stop sniffing around.” Fade set his hand on my shoulder. “She’s with me.”
I stole a glance at the other guards, but they were too busy watching Longshot’s argument to pay attention. Thankfully so. I’d die if I forfeited their respect over such a ridiculous issue, over jealous boys and feelings.
“That true?” Stalker’s face seemed oddly frozen under the scars, yet beneath the ice, he gave the unmistakable impression of pain.
I hated this, but I nodded. He squared his shoulders and wheeled away, heading to join the guards. Laughter followed, so he must have made some joke. If there was one thing Stalker was good at, it was adapting to new situations. He had to feel like he’d lost his only ally in this town but he wouldn’t show it.