Outpost (Razorland 2)

Fade pressed into a flat sprint, and I flew beside him. He had the longer stride, but I was small and quick. I’d seldom had the chance to run like this down below. The sounds grew distant, as—whatever—chose not to leave the shelter of the forest. Instead, I sensed the weight of its hungry eyes, tracing our progress and promising itself, next time.

When we hit the gates, Fade called, “Open up, quickly. It’s clear for now.”

The guard took the time to scan the ground behind us, and then complied. We ducked through the narrow opening, and they slammed the heavy doors. The wood beam fell back into place; ever since the Freaks had tried to breach the entry, it appeared the guards used the reinforcement all the time. I didn’t blame them.

Carefully cut grass and small meticulous gardens and flower beds made it seem like nothing bad could ever happen here. The buildings gleamed with fresh coats of whitewash; everything was under control. Since I’d been in the field, even the people looked cleaner and more wholesome. Girls walked in their long, pretty dresses, hems untouched by dust. Men removed their hats when ladies passed.

It felt like much longer since I’d been here, as if living with Edmund and Momma Oaks belonged to some other me; just as the one who lived down below was someone else, so many versions of the girl I glimpsed in the mirror. I felt grown, enough not to need to attend Mrs. James’s stupid school, but maybe I wasn’t the person I might become yet either. Perhaps that was the point; life, if you did it right, meant learning and changing. If you didn’t, you died—or stopped growing—which amounted to more or less the same thing. So I would slide in and out of different roles until I discovered the one that fit me best.

As I studied it, I realized the town looked somewhat different. Fresh flowers adorned tables set up nearby, pretty white blossoms like the ones I had noticed on the way to the fields. Colored ribbons hung from businesses near the green, and music played, a sweet and cheerful tune. A number of men and women fiddled with their instruments, laughing with the ease of those who didn’t worry about monsters eating them. I glanced at Fade, who shrugged. He didn’t know what was going on either.

“Is there a party?” I asked a guard, remembering Justine’s birthday.

“Kind of,” he answered. “It’s the Cherry Blossom festival. It’s how we celebrate the arrival of spring every year.”

“What does that mean?”

The man scratched his head. “Well, there’s a dance tonight on the green. There will be food and drink. It’s a chance for folks to show they’re grateful that the cold weather is gone for a while.”

“Sounds like fun,” Fade said. “Thanks.”

“What’s a dance?” I didn’t ask until the guard moved off, but Fade wouldn’t mock me.

To my astonishment, he grabbed one of my hands and put his other on my waist. “Follow me.” There, by the front gate, he spun me in a circle, his feet moving in time to the music.

When we stopped, I was breathless and laughing. “How did you know?”

“I used to dance with my mom.”

That sounded like a good memory. For the first time, I wondered if my dam had been a kind girl and if she’d liked the boy who sired me. Occasionally, two Breeders grew close and petitioned for permission to create offspring together. Such cases were monitored closely to be sure there was no unnecessary contact after a successful pregnancy occurred. So there was a faint chance I had been born of affection. My existence might also have sprung from a breeding assigned by the elders. Fade’s parents had chosen each other, I knew, and they’d produced an excellent son.

He was watching my face, trying to decide what I was thinking. Offering a half-smile, I gave him no clue. “Yes?”

“Would you dance with me tonight?”

“I’d love to. But if we’re going to celebrate with the rest of the town,” I decided aloud, “then we should go wash up.”

“I’d like to see you in a dress again … and with your hair down.”

Considering what we’d been through together, his words shouldn’t have made me feel shy. Inexplicably, they did. Perhaps because he meant to spend the evening with Deuce the girl, not Deuce the Huntress, and I didn’t know my feminine side very well. In fact, before Fade and his kisses, I’d have said there was little connection.

Abashed, I went in silence through the town, admiring the decorations on the green. I had no doubt it would be pretty when they finished. A couple of girls from school—Merry and Hannah—waved madly when they spotted Fade and me. I stopped long enough to be polite.

“Is it terrifying out there?” Hannah wanted to know.

“Sometimes.”

We chatted for a time, then they needed to return to work. Fade and I walked on to the Oakses’ place, which smelled of fresh baked bread through the open windows. My stomach growled.

Momma Oaks met us at the front door and grabbed me up in a rib-crushing embrace. Tears shone in her eyes, but since she was smiling, I figured she was happy. Like the first time we turned up, filthy, at her door, she hollered to Edmund to come and see, but this time he greeted me with a hug, and a wrinkle of his nose. Spot washing didn’t do laundry or remedy all hygienic challenges.

“I’ll see about filling the tubs,” he murmured. “How’re those boots working out for you?”

“They’re perfect,” I said truthfully. “I love them.”

Fade copied the salute Longshot often used. “Mine as well, sir. They’re fantastic. I’ve never had anything so nice.”

Edmund’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “That’s fine. What about the other boy?”

“Stalker,” I reminded him. “He said to pass along his gratitude as well. He’ll probably come by on his furlough to thank you in person.”

“Least I could do while you’re fighting for Salvation.”

Fade cleared his throat, drawing my attention, but he was focused on my foster father, his arms loose and nervous at his sides. “Sir, I need your permission to walk out with Deuce. My intentions are honorable.”

What? Tegan had mentioned this to me in passing, but I wasn’t even sure what “intentions” entailed.

Before I could get a word out, Edmund nodded. “It’s good of you to ask. And granted.” With that, my foster father headed for the kitchen to get started on our baths.

“How long can you stay?” Momma Oaks came into the room looking as if she’d happily keep us forever.

“Just until this time tomorrow. We get twenty-four hours’ leave.”

“Better than nothing,” Edmund called, pumping water.

The older woman nodded. “True. And at least you won’t miss the spring festival. It’s my favorite time, and heaven knows we could use the cheer.”

I agreed. It was important to keep people’s spirits up during dark patches. Otherwise panic set in faster if the worst occurred. Not that I wanted to discuss that—or think about it—right now. Fade and I deserved to be lighthearted before we returned to endless dread.

“Come in here and help me, boy!”

With a bemused glance, Fade went into the kitchen. Momma Oaks hugged me again and then stood gazing at me at arm’s length as if she couldn’t believe I’d come back safely.

This time, anyway.

“Do you miss your children?” I asked.

“Only the one I lost. Rex comes to see us when he can.” Her tone belied the easy words, reflecting the tension I’d noticed before.

Rex hadn’t come for dinner even once in the months I’d fostered with the Oakses, but I didn’t disrespect her by saying so. If I had a real mother like Momma Oaks, I’d treat her kindly and bring my family to eat her cooking every chance I got. But folks took for granted their blessings and often didn’t appreciate them until it was too late to offer thanks.

“You had two boys?”

She nodded. “I always wanted a daughter, though.” Smiling at me, she added briskly, “And now I have one, so it’s all to the good. What are you wearing tonight?”

“I thought maybe the blue dress, if you finished it?”

But I wasn’t thinking about clothing. Instead, I turned over the idea that she considered me her own, her real daughter. Such a thing seemed impossible, but my throat thickened at the prospect. I’d never imagined a home like I found in Salvation, or parents of my own. I was also curious about that odd little interchange between Fade and Edmund.

She nodded. “It’s clean and pressed, waiting in your closet.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly, and I didn’t mean for the washing and ironing.

She knew. Her eyes grew suspiciously moist again, and she patted my shoulder. “It’s my pleasure, Deuce. Believe me, it is.”

Biting my lip, I considered my options, then I took the plunge. I repeated what Fade had said to Edmund. “So what does it mean?”

“He asked that?” Her hand flew to her heart in delight. “It means he’s serious. When a boy goes to a girl’s daddy, he’s paying respect and promising he won’t trifle with her. He’s been raised right.”

I puzzled over that revelation. “Which means no illicit breeding?”

“Lands, the way you talk.” Her cheeks colored.

Fade came out of the kitchen then, freshly bathed and in clean clothes. My breath caught, but I only got to look at him briefly before Momma Oaks hustled me off for my turn. By accident or design, they kept us apart until after nightfall.

As she styled my hair, I asked, “What’s Fade doing?”

Momma Oaks shrugged. “He told Edmund he had an errand to run.”

Hm. Interesting.

As before, Momma Oaks pinned my hair up in rag twists, then when she took it down, she caught a cluster of curls at the crown of my head in a jeweled clip, so bouncy hair spilled down my back. Since the style wasn’t as tall as it had been for Justine’s party, I liked it better. I watched her work in the mirror, unsure of the girl in my reflection. I never cared how I looked; the only thing that mattered down below was keeping clean.

“This belonged to my mother,” she said, unwrapping something from fine cloth that had started to yellow. In her palm, Momma Oaks held a silver chain, delicately forged and shining like a star. From it hung a little blue stone that bent the light. “I’d like you to wear it tonight. It’ll be perfect with your dress.”

I froze, afraid to reach for it. The only thing I had ever owned that belonged to my dam, I had traded for safe passage out of the tunnels down below. Even now, I wished I’d been able to keep that little metal case. It had a mirror inside and the sweet-smelling remnant of some powder long since crumbled away.

“It’s too fine,” I protested.

“You should have something pretty for your first official date with Fade.”

Date. A new word. I suspected it had to do with sparking, and given what we planned to do that evening, it must relate to having fun. I didn’t ask for clarification.

She fastened it around my neck without waiting for me to give in. It looked so lovely that I didn’t have the heart to protest again. I’d never worn anything before that didn’t serve some purpose, but this just hung around my neck looking sparkly. I loved it. I always had a weakness for glittery things, and since my exile, I owned nothing but my knives and clothes. Not that I owned this. I understood she was loaning it to me, not making a gift.