Horde

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.