The Gender Fall (The Gender Game #5)(45)

The expression I was pondering was gone in an instant, as Ms. Dale’s face returned to its normal impassive state.

“On that note, I have to get back to preparations,” she said, standing up. “Viggo, I will see you tonight.”

Viggo inclined his head in wordless acknowledgement, and I leaned back onto the trunk of the tree behind us as Ms. Dale moved off to other parts of the camp. My thoughts drifted to Tim, and I felt a deep ache in my heart. Still no word, no sign, no intercepted report… nothing. That was really why I would have agreed to anything to get out of bed. When I wasn’t sleeping, my brother was always on my mind; even when I slept, my dreams were troubled, his voice and his face making appearances in places that had nothing to do with him. Doing something else—anything else—was the only way to keep the worry from becoming impatience and making me want to do something drastic.

Viggo’s arm dropped over my shoulder, and I looked up at him, shaking off the dire thoughts. His mouth was pressed into a thin line. “Tim?” he asked. I nodded, and he tugged me closer, holding me tight.

“We’ll find him,” Viggo breathed against my forehead. I nodded again, but the doubt still lurked in my mind, racing over the dozens of possible outcomes, none of them good. “Actually, we have a bit of a lead…”

A grin formed on my lips as I put two and two together and cast a gaze up at him. “You mean… Does it have something to do with your mysterious mission tonight?”

Viggo nodded, and I straightened slightly, brushing invisible lint off the pants I was wearing. They were borrowed—probably outfits recovered from Ashabee’s manor, or donated by some of the refugees—and a bit large, but serviceable. “Spill.”

He chuckled and began explaining the camp Thomas had found, the one where the Matrians were shipping most, if not all, Patrian males. “They will have records,” he said. “Possibly even computers we can hack into.” He hesitated, meeting my gaze with a wary flick of his eyes. “I’m hoping we might find some sign of Tim… If he’s been picked up, they might have taken him there.”

I fidgeted as a sliver of hope threaded its way into my heart. I sternly reminded myself there were no guarantees. Viggo reached over and took my hand, squeezing it gently. We sat there for a few minutes, Viggo comforting me while I fretted, worried about what they might find at this camp—and, even worse, what they might not.

I was so deep into my musings that when Viggo spoke again, it took a moment to register. “Look who’s over there…”

He pointed, and I followed the direction of his finger, my eyes finding a man standing a fair distance away, near a group of people standing in line by the shooting range set up some ways behind the barn. He was peering directly at us. Even at this distance, it took me less than a second to identify Cad, and I straightened, self-consciously tugging my cap down over my bald head. Cad seemed to realize it was me, and gave a little whoop, loping over toward us.

This time I did try to stand, using the tree and Viggo for help, and was on my feet by the time my cousin reached us. “Violet!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms open wide. I stepped gingerly into them, just relieved to see him, and he hugged me extra gently, his arms barely brushing my healing ribs. We held each other like that for a moment, and he pecked me on my forehead. “I’m so happy to see you up,” he whispered.

“Me too,” I whispered back, releasing him. He stepped away, and I saw his eyes were brimming with gratitude.

“Violet, seriously, words can’t even express how grateful I am to you for what you did for my family,” he gushed, and I looked away, embarrassed by the praise. “I mean, I don’t know if I ever could’ve done what you did for us. What you sacrificed for us.”

I frowned, thinking of my brother, and then shook my head. “That’s not true,” I reminded him softly. “You already did—you went back to the palace and went searching for Tim. I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate that.”

Cad rubbed the back of his head awkwardly and gave me a sad smile. “I just wish I had found him,” he replied.

I wanted to say “me too” again, but I didn’t. Cad already knew that—and, obviously, he didn’t need to be reminded of his failure. The two of us stood awkwardly, uncertain what to say next. The sound of gunfire punctuated the moment, and I looked over at the range, watching Ms. Dale marching up and down the line of trainees, before looking back to Cad.

“So… how’s training?” I asked, fumbling for a conversation topic.

“Eh. So-so. I’m not so good with a gun, but my wife…” He trailed off, his eyes going wide. He looked around for a second, and then held up a finger. “Hold that thought—I’ll be right back.”

I watched as he raced back toward the group on the range, and exchanged baffled looks with Viggo, who shrugged. Cad approached a woman in the firing line, and, when she put her gun down, tapped her shoulder and began speaking to her, his hands gesticulating wildly. After a moment, the woman smiled and nodded.

“Looks like you’re about to meet the family,” announced Viggo from beside me, and I felt my eyes growing wide.

“Right now?”

Viggo chuckled and nodded. “Right now,” he agreed.

I fidgeted, smoothing my hands over my clothes, suddenly stupidly self-conscious. I felt Viggo’s eyes on me. “They’re going to love you,” he said. “Especially after what you did for them.”