I’d never know if I didn’t ask.
“Do you have to go right back?” It was the first time in weeks that I’d tried to breach his reserve, and anxiety sunk a fist into my innards, as I wondered if he’d reject me—and how much it would hurt if he did.
He weighed the question, and then murmured with a pained twist of his lips, “My work will keep for a while.”
Reunion
Pleasure streamed through me. I hadn’t expected that response, so I had no follow-up. “What would you like to do?”
Fade lifted his shoulders in a graceful shrug. The rules here were different from the enclave’s. We slept apart, but during daylight hours, boys and girls fraternized without censure; there was no insistence on chaperones, for instance. Down below, I couldn’t spend time with Stone unless Thimble kept us company, and I was never allowed to bring a boy into my living space without someone else present. Walking was more than we’d done together lately, so I resolved to enjoy it.
“Momma Oaks has a swing out back,” he suggested, surprising me.
I knew the one he meant. It was sedate, a long wood seat on a platform, not so much for children as for those who had to watch over them. I’d never used it, myself, but it might make a comfortable place to talk on a sunny afternoon.
“Let’s go.” I didn’t know what we’d say, once we settled, but I was in no hurry to disturb the tentative peace.
Yet we had to clear the air. Even if he could keep this up, I didn’t want to.
Fade followed quietly as I wove through town, back toward the Oakses’ place. To my relief, my foster mother wasn’t outside hanging wash or puttering in the yard. That left us a clear path around the side of the house. The swing rested beneath the same spreading tree that permitted me to sneak out in the middle of the night. With a fond glance at that liberating branch, I took a seat, and Fade did the same. He sat closer than I expected, his thigh a whisper away from mine. It reminded me of how we’d huddled together down below after we learned what became of Nassau, and it took all my self-control not to curl into him as I had then. He was all that remained of my old world.
Fade hunched his shoulders, staring down at the ground between his knees. The grass was patchy, showing green and brown. Not that long ago, it had been covered with snow.
“I get the feeling you want to talk about something,” he prompted.
Yes. But I was no good at it. Action served me better than words, and I didn’t know how to express my dissatisfaction. I’d stumble and embarrass myself, but even so, that had to be better than endless distance. So I took a deep breath and shifted, angling my knees toward him. The movement set the swing to rocking gently. It was soothing in a way I couldn’t put my finger on, reducing my fear about how difficult this might prove.
“Are you still upset with me?”
“Why would I be?” He parried the question without answering it, and I couldn’t let that stand.
“You tell me.”
Fade gave a quiet sigh. “I just can’t be around you all the time. It’s too hard.”
“What is?” That made no sense.
“Seeing you with him.”
No question he meant Stalker, but I was only around him because Fade wasn’t talking to me. I’d seen a dog in town chasing its tail—and that was how I felt too.
“I don’t understand.”
Nothing much had changed since we arrived in Salvation, but Fade made excuses to avoid me. He chose to be with Tegan or strangers instead of me. I’d be lying if I claimed that didn’t hurt. After the past couple of months, I had a collection of inner scars to match the ones I’d earned on naming day, and then later, proving myself in battle. Each time he turned away from me at school, it cut a little deeper.
“You were mine before,” he said softly. “But somewhere along the way, I lost you. And now you’re his.”
That raised my ire, as precious little could have. “I wasn’t yours, and I’m not his, either. I’m a Huntress, Fade, not an old knife that can be traded.”
He had some crazy notions; that was for sure. But his expression lightened a little, an almost-smile playing at the corners of a mouth that I enjoyed looking at too much for my own peace of mind. The time in the sun had been good for him, bronzing his skin until it glowed, but he didn’t need to be more attractive. In fact, I resented him for it because his fierce beauty compelled my eyes in ways I didn’t like and couldn’t control.
“I know your title,” he said then. “You’ve made it clear that you live to fight.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I don’t like sharing.”
On some level, I understood that. Down below, resources had been limited, and when you earned your name, and they assigned you personal space, it felt like a miracle, having three feet that nobody else had any control over. Topside, we had more room, but conversely, I had less power. I owned nothing up here but my knives and my free will, since I’d given the club Stone made me to Tegan. That gave me a pang, as I doubted she valued it anymore, and it was my last piece of the big, sweet Breeder.
But I still felt Fade and I weren’t connecting on the right level. His meaning remained opaque, like a shape I could make out at the bottom of a murky river, only I didn’t know it was a monster until it lunged up at me. I had that same kind of uneasiness right then; I hated feeling stupid.
“Sharing … what?”
I remembered Stalker saying he thought I wanted him to touch me—and that was why he’d spent so much time training with me. I’d put that to rest, hadn’t I? Did Fade think I wanted Stalker’s hands on me too? If so, I couldn’t imagine how the opposite gender managed to get out of bed in the morning. They might be lovely to look at, but clear thinking wasn’t their strong point. Once more, I’d strive to make it clear only Fade had that kind of magic.
He frowned, like he suspected me of being difficult on purpose. “You.”
“He’s not my partner.” This time, I used the word Fade had once before, meaning something different and deeper than just the person who guarded your back in a fight. It had an emotional context too, something I couldn’t spell out, but knew deep within my bones instead.
“You’re … not with him?” His hesitation irritated me, as I’d never once lied to him. When we were stranded in the wilderness and I was dreaming of Silk, who told me to keep the fire burning, I didn’t tell Fade why because he’d have thought I was crazy, but I never lied.