By nightfall, we had dodged four Freak patrols and outrun the trees, leaving us only open ground upon which to make camp. We could do without a fire, but it would get colder as the night wore on. I ate only a little of our packed food, thinking we might need it before the trip ended; things seldom went according to plan. The water, I downed generously, as I heard the river burbling nearby. We weren’t encamped on its banks—that would be asking for trouble since Freaks had to stop to drink—but it was close enough to be reassuring. Clean water was always a concern in the wilderness.
“Can I see the map?”
I handed it to him. “How did we do?”
“We shaved some time off the estimate. If we maintain this pace, though, we’ll be burnt to nubs when we arrive in Winterville.”
“The alternative is stretching this out. Sooner we get there, find this Dr. Wilson, and get back with his data, the faster we can put Soldier’s Pond behind us.”
“Did you mean what you said?”
“About what?” I asked.
“Raising an army.”
I tilted my head. “One town won’t be enough to defeat the horde. With the Freaks organizing and banding together, we have to do the same. It can’t matter where somebody’s from or why they want to fight. It only matters if they’re committed.”
“The colonel laughed. You really think we can do this?” While it warmed my heart to hear that instinctive “we,” the question also showed me how much the Freaks had damaged his confidence. He’d had my back in the meeting, but now the doubts emerged.
“I think we’ve lost if we don’t try,” I said.
“Then I’m with you.” He pitched his voice low so it wouldn’t carry—and in that moment of everlasting sweetness, it felt like a secret pact, Fade and me against the world.
Too soon, dark fell and cradled us in night. We had come far enough from Soldier’s Pond that there were no lights apart from moon and stars. How odd that I could’ve so quickly forgotten that darkness like this existed, beyond banishing by candles or the crafty glow of old-world lights. I held my hand up to my face, marveling at the smudgy lines. To my annoyance, I was too keyed up to sleep.
“I’ll take the first watch,” I said.
Fade shook his head. “We both need to rest. I’ll put dry branches around the perimeter. If anything crosses, the noise will wake us.”
“Good idea.” I helped him gather them, then we created a box far enough from our bedrolls that it should give us time to draw our weapons.
My time at the outpost had left me sleeping even lighter. Though I had never mentioned my bad dreams to anyone, between memories of the enclave and Fade’s abduction, I didn’t sleep well most nights anyway. Between my nighttime troubles and Fade’s precautions, I doubted the Freaks could sneak up on us. Of course, before it happened, I would’ve said they couldn’t steal fire or take two men from an armed encampment, too. Those facts left me faintly unnerved.
“It’ll be cold tonight.” I nodded as I curled into my blankets, too preoccupied to wonder at the statement. The reason for it became clear when Fade added, “You could sleep next to me.”
“Would that be all right?”
“It was before. I rolled toward you … and I might as well save us that step.”
“I’d like that if it wouldn’t bother you.”
He exhaled slowly and with obvious trepidation. “I’ll let you know.”
Feeling like I was taming a wild creature, I eased my back up to his front by increments, and I stopped when I could just barely feel him. He came a little closer on his own, so the heat was immediately palpable. Delight cascaded through me when he dropped his arm over my waist. I braced for rejection, but instead he seemed to be settling in, and I felt the warm gust of his breath against the back of my head.
“You have no idea how happy this makes me,” I whispered.
His voice was somber. “It makes me feel less broken. It helps when I can plan it and consider all the reasons it’s a good thing, first. I still quake like a child over loud noises, sudden touches, people popping out at me unexpectedly—”
“That’s normal,” I said, though I had no idea whether it was. Then it occurred to me how I could best help him—by reassuring him he wasn’t alone. “I never told you this, but I have nightmares. The blind boy from down below, usually. Since we came Topside, there are more … being taken by the Wolves, and later, when I feared I’d lost you forever … that’s the worst. I’m in the woods again, it’s dark and I’m alone, and I’m surrounded by the horde, only this time, I’m covered in my own blood, not their entrails, so they’re all staring right at me. I know I’m going to die—that I failed you and it’ll be my fault that—” The tears surprised me, choking my words.
That you die. I don’t save you.
Before this moment, it hadn’t occurred to me that my weakness would matter to him. Fade levered up on his elbow and tugged on my shoulder. I could tell he wanted me to face him. Another gentle pull, and I succumbed. His eyes were wide and soft, surprised even, in the moonlight, like he hadn’t known I could suffer the same way he did. Well, maybe not the same, but if he was damaged, I surely was too. I strangled the weeping with a few sharp breaths.
“You’re not as strong as I thought.”
“I know,” I said miserably. “Silk always said that. She told me over and over that I have a Breeder’s heart, and I’ll never be a true Huntress.”
“You’re stronger. Much as I love you, I always thought you don’t feel things like I do. But the truth is, you just hide it better. You carry it around without ever asking anybody to help shoulder it. I’m so sorry. I just … left you, hurting, and I was so worried about being worthy that I never once suspected you need me too.”
My voice came out small in the dark. “I do.”
For once, the Huntress was in complete agreement with the girl.
Fade trembled when he touched my hair. “I promise I won’t go away again, even inside my head. And you tell me about the bad dreams from now on. Please don’t hide. Not from me.”
“Then in the interest of full honesty, I really wish you’d kiss me right now.”
Apart from the blind nuzzling in his sleep, he hadn’t touched me like that since his return. Considering it hadn’t been very long since we started sparking, I missed it a whole lot. His breath misted my forehead, and Fade pressed a kiss there, delicate as a moth’s wing. That wasn’t what I had in mind, but I feared spooking him. He dusted kisses along my temple down to my cheekbone, then I couldn’t help it. I turned my head so my mouth met his. He made a soft sound, and I was in accord.
I didn’t grab on to him, though I wanted to. He had conveyed to me that touching went easier when he was in charge of it—braced for it—and so I kept my hands still. Somehow that only made me more conscious of the hot glide of his lips, and the way his body lit mine up like a summer night, all heat and starlight. His tongue grazed mine; it was all I could do not to leap on him. Proud of my self-control, I lay in the circle of his arm after he broke the kiss, dreaming of the day when I could again touch him freely.
With a soft sigh, Fade rested his forehead against mine. “We should get to sleep. It will be another long day tomorrow.”
He was more right about that than he knew.