The house had a simple design, kitchen to the left, bedroom behind the sitting room. And from the kitchen, a ladder led up. I climbed it. Above, I found a loft, all empty space with a finished floor and polished rafters. Longshot’s home would be big enough for a man and his wife. The loft could hold a couple of children, but he never had the chance. Tears burned in my eyes. On the day he died, I’d thought, Someday I might let the girl cry for him, but not today.
It was someday.
I sank down onto the bare floor and let the sobs come.
Much later, I dried my face on my sleeve and went downstairs to look around. I found Longshot’s presence concentrated in the bedroom with spare parts for Old Girl, rounds of ammunition, and a few dirty clothes he hadn’t gotten around to laundering before we went out on patrol. I wished I understood why he’d chosen to give his place in the world to me.
Then I found the most significant legacy: his papers. Thumbing through them, I realized they were maps of all the trade routes, names of settlements, facts about how many people lived there, and what they needed to barter. I clutched the documents to my chest, heart beating like a wild thing. This was power—it felt like the keys to the whole world to me. With growing awe, I read, lips moving as I shaped the letters into words: Appleton, Rosemere, Otterburn, Lorraine, Soldier’s Pond, Winterville, and more. He meant to leave me this. Freedom. Not a house.
I recalled how we’d stood on the wall and talked about me going with him on his trade runs. Earlier, I’d wondered who would take over, and this was his answer, given as clearly as he could make it. I would be his true heir, and he’d given me all the information necessary to make that dream come true.
With careful hands, I slid the papers into a leather folder for safekeeping. Now that I had it, I didn’t want anyone taking this information away from me. Maybe I would see if Tegan could help me write some copies, just in case. Once, I would’ve asked Fade, but he had made his feelings clear. Much as it pained me, I respected his need for distance. I wouldn’t push him; I understood what Tegan meant by saying there was no magic that could fix him, just because I wanted him back the way he used to be. But he was worth waiting for.
As I glanced around, I realized I could help Fade even more.
Siege
“You were gone awhile,” Momma Oaks said.
Her words constituted an invitation to share, so I told her what had happened. She listened with an attentive air, nodding in all the right places. Then she hugged me. “He was important to you.”
She referred to Longshot, not either of the Bigwaters I’d spoken with today; though they were both decent men, one old and burdened, the other young and blissfully ignorant. Zach seemed innocent to me, childlike. He had no scars at all. But he was a brave soul, and Salvation needed as many of those as it could muster.
I considered how much the outpost commander had meant to me. “He was, more than I realized. I wish I’d told him so.”
“I suspect he knew or he wouldn’t have left his things to you.”
Small consolation, but better than none. I doubted Longshot would’ve been comfortable with an emotional scene in any case. He had seemed like the sort of man who preferred those attachments going unspoken.
“Where’s Fade?”
“Down at the shop with Edmund.”
“Then I’ll be back directly.”
Her gaze followed me as I went back out the door, leather folder still in my hand. I also had the key tucked in my pocket. As I strode through the center of town, I became conscious of the stares. A few women gazed at me with open dislike, friends of Caroline Bigwater, most likely. Lifting my chin, I ignored them and continued on my quest, pushing open the door to the building hung with the COBBLER sign, where Edmund worked most days. The scent of leather livened the air, but unlike the tannery, it was a nice smell, once finished, smooth and buttery.
Edmund was working on a pair of shoes when I walked in. His face reflected surprise, quickly hidden. “Deuce! Good to see you.”
I chatted with him for a few minutes so he wouldn’t be hurt that I hadn’t come to see him specifically. “What are those?”
“These will be a fine pair of slippers when I’m finished. Did Doc Tuttle check you out yet?”
“He removed my stitches too. I’m good as new.”
Not quite. I hurt in ways I hadn’t before—the pain not physical—and I worried about the town, which had become my home. Not that it was my place to be concerned. The elders would solve the problem. I just had to find some useful way to occupy my time, now that I didn’t have to attend school, though I didn’t look forward to advising Mrs. James of my decision. Everyone in Salvation worked—and I didn’t want to apprentice to Momma Oaks and become a dressmaker. But I’d figure out a way to persuade people that I ought to be allowed to take over for Longshot, once the trade runs commenced … after they dealt with the Freaks outside the walls.
Not a small job.
Then Edmund proved he was more perceptive than he seemed. “Fade’s in the back, cutting patterns.”
“Do you mind…?”
“Go on. He’s welcome to take a break. Hard worker, that one … doesn’t talk much, though.”
He used to, I thought.
With an indistinct murmur, I brushed past Edmund into the work space at the back of the shop. Fade glanced up—and I could’ve sworn for an instant that he was happy to see me, but the look vanished so fast I thought I imagined it. He put down the tool he used on the leather and cocked his head in challenge.
“What are you doing here?” The unspoken meaning was clear: I told you to leave me alone, to forget about me. I meant it.
I ignored the pain, doggedly clinging to my mission, and flattened my palm on the counter. When I pulled my hand away, the key lay atop the half-trimmed leather. “I see that you’re unhappy … you feel trapped. But I can help.”
“What do you mean?”
“Longshot left me his house. I wouldn’t like living alone, and I don’t mind Edmund or Momma Oaks. So you can stay and take care of the place. It’ll give you more peace … more privacy.” I stared over his shoulder, wondering if he could tell how much this hurt me. “Nobody will bother you there.”
You won’t see me. You can lick your wounds and miss me until you come searching for me … because you’re mine, and I’m yours. But I left that part unspoken.