by Ann Aguirre
“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 m
y 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 the
ir 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.