How’s that for learning his new patterns?
He always sees through me. I may have said I’m fine, but he knows that’s not true. He means to talk, hopes to get me to open up yet again. I brace myself for what he’ll say to me. It’s not your fault. There’s nothing you could have done. No one blames you. You’re a good captain. He’ll try to make me feel better but only infuriate me instead. I begin to ready my argument.
He says, “Get over it.”
I expel a small breath of surprise. “What?”
“Get over it. You messed up. Now move on. Think about your next move.”
I can’t say anything for a full five seconds. “You blame me?”
“Didn’t say that.”
“You said I messed up.”
“Isn’t that what you’re thinking?”
“I asked what you were thinking.”
“You don’t care what I think. You respond better to tough love. So there it is. The advice you would give yourself if you could think past your guilt. Get over it.”
He didn’t tell me what I expected to hear, yet I’m somehow angrier than if he had.
Alosa said I would make mistakes. She was right. I just didn’t expect to fail so miserably. Or to feel the way I do when it happened. The pain of my shortcomings is a constant pressure against my skin. Something trying to beat its way out of me. I want to be alone. I want to hunt. I want to do something so I don’t have to think.
But none of those are options right now.
I stand from the log I’d been perched on and begin to pace. Sitting still is driving me mad, despite the hours of running we all had to do today.
“I failed them all,” I say after a moment, because talking is the only thing I have left, and he’s the only one who stuck around to listen.
“You saved them,” he says. “We’re here. We’re alive. We have food. Alosa will come for us if we can survive long enough.”
“Alosa isn’t supposed to save us. I’m supposed to save those girls. Instead, I’ve gotten more of us stuck here.”
Kearan picks a stick from the ground, dusts the snow off it, and begins breaking off the smaller branches. “Plans change.”
“That’s your advice? Plans change.”
“Captain, you don’t want advice. You want someone to yell at and fight with so you can take your own attention off yourself.”
I am so sick of him telling me exactly what I’m thinking.
I pull a knife from my waist and throw it. It lodges into the trunk Kearan’s sitting on, barely an inch away from his leg.
He looks down at it, grins, and says, “Do that again.”
I reach for another knife and fling it. It lands just a bit above the first.
“Throw until you miss,” he challenges.
I grab a knife with my left hand, toss it to my right, then hurl it with all my strength. It strikes near Kearan’s thigh. But he doesn’t have to encourage me anymore. I grab and throw, grab and throw. Five knives. Ten knives. All making a neat outline surrounding where Kearan sits.
The fifteenth and final knife lands near his left calf, tearing through the thick pants he wears. When he dislodges it, a small line of red appears on the blade.
“Missed,” he says, not showing an ounce of pain or shock. He throws the knife back at me, and I catch it out of the air by the blade without slicing my skin.
As he somehow knew I would.
We stare at each other. Me out of breath, him with that ridiculous grin, and something within my chest shifts ever so slightly.
“Now,” Kearan says, “what’s the plan, Captain?”
I wipe the knife free of blood on my own pant leg and return it to my person. “We find those girls. Get them to safety. Wait for Alosa to arrive. I keep this crew alive and well until then.”
“Good. What’s the first step?”
“I need to get a closer look at whoever lives here to see if they’ve captured Alosa’s crew.”
“Let’s go,” he says, standing and revealing the outline of himself left behind by my blades.
I LET THE GIRLS on watch know I’m going off scouting with Kearan, and then the two of us take off.
Perhaps it was a foolish thing to agree to. Nothing about Kearan is stealthy, but I’d disappoint Dimella if I tried going off on my own. I like having her good opinion. I want to maintain the mutual respect we have for each other. Besides, Kearan probably won’t be able to keep up, and I’ll lose him in the dark. He’ll have no choice but to return back to camp. Dimella can hardly be upset then.
It’s so very dark under the trees, but thin beams of moonlight break through the canopy, illuminating our way. The small scurrying of nightlife sounds around us. Some sort of nocturnal bird hoots in the evening air, and the leaves and needles rustle around us, despite the lack of breeze.
The needle-strewn floor masks any sound and prints we might leave on the ground. I dart from tree to tree, searching our surroundings carefully before moving on to the next stopping point. Small plants appear here and there, and I skirt them so as not to leave a trace.
Kearan makes barely a sound behind me.
In fact, I have to look over my shoulder more than once to ensure he’s keeping apace with me.
“You remember what I used to do for a living, right?” he asks. “Stealth was often required.”
Still, there’s so much of him. I don’t know how he manages it.
“You make a lot of assumptions about me based on my size,” he says. “I don’t like it.”
I halt in place and turn, staring at him.
“I’m a big man. Always have been. I have no problem with it. Do you?”
“Of course not.”
“Good.”
I turn back around, thoroughly puzzled by the exchange. I can’t tell if he wanted to know what I thought about his body shape or if he was concerned it might affect how I treat him or something else entirely.
I like his shape, not that I would ever tell him that. And I would assume anyone who isn’t me would make more noise than usual, but maybe I need to be more careful with my thoughts and words if they’re coming out wrong.
Talking has never been my strong suit.
Still, I say over my shoulder, “I’m sorry if I’ve offended.”
“If? You remember that you once pitched me off a ship and into the ocean, right?”
“I meant with my words.”
He seems thoroughly shocked for a full second. Then he mutters, “Apology accepted.”
“Good. Now, quiet; we’re getting close.”
It is a thing I sense, rather than see, that tells me we’re nearly there. I halt in place, and Kearan does the same two steps behind me. The moon hides behind cloud cover, obstructing my vision, but I am endlessly patient, waiting the fifteen minutes for it to return. My eyes take in the surrounding landscape, checking every tree and bush twice.
I spot the man up in the canopy to our right, even before he coughs loudly into the frigid air. The glint of a pistol in the moonlight appears near some shrubbery, and there’s a rustling not too far off to our left.