Horde (Razorland #3)(56)

“Show me,” he demanded. “Again.”

Obligingly, Morrow duplicated the move until Stalker could counter it. They were both breathing hard when they noticed Tegan and me.

Morrow doffed an imaginary hat, a gesture he was fond of. I couldn’t imagine where he’d learned it, but faint color touched Tegan’s throat and climbed toward her cheeks. Stalker waited to hear what we wanted. The others went about their business, but I sensed their interest.

“Tegan can handle a rifle already … and we can’t waste ammo on target practice out here. But she wants to learn to fight better.”

“That’s a good idea,” Stalker said.

Morrow looked thoughtful. “What’s your weapon of choice?”

She shrugged. “I’ve used guns. A club, once, but I wasn’t very good with it.”

“It was too heavy.” I missed that club, though, because my brat-mate Stone had made it for me. Not for the first time, I wondered what became of him and Thimble and why they had been so quick to believe the charges the elders levied against me.

Down below, hoarding was a crime, and I’d been accused of stashing old-world treasures for my own personal gain. Since I loved shiny things, it would’ve made no sense for me to squirrel away stacks of reading material. Sometimes I enjoyed the pictures but even after going to school in Salvation, reading was hard work, so that was the last thing I’d steal. I shook my head over the foolishness of that accusation and focused on Tegan.

“Walk for me,” Morrow said gently.

Tegan’s eyes shone with misery but she obliged, showing him her stride. There was high color in her face as she came back toward us, but she didn’t drop her gaze. Yes, I have a limp, she said with a silent, defiant lift of her chin. But I can still fight. Morrow didn’t seem to be focusing on that, however—at least not in any judgmental way.

“What do you think?” I asked.

He addressed Tegan, not me. “You need a weapon that helps you compensate and plays to your strengths. You’re small enough to be a deceptive target and strong enough to surprise your enemies when they get close to you.”

“What do you suggest?” Tegan sounded happier, confident he could help.

In answer, Morrow ran off into the woods. Stalker gazed after him, one brow raised. “Well, that was odd.”

But I had a feeling I knew where he’d gone … and why. Sure enough, he returned in a few moments with a relatively straight tree limb. With some judicious carving, it would make a fine staff. A little banded metal on top and bottom—which could be done once we returned to Soldier’s Pond for supplies—and the weapon would serve.

“This is yours,” he said, offering it to Tegan.

“You want me to kill Freaks with a stick?”

“Make some room,” Morrow said.

The rest of us complied, then he demonstrated some of the moves. In his hands, the branch became beautiful and dangerous, whirling in defense, striking hard, blocking phantom blows. When he finished his demonstration, even Stalker looked impressed.

“Could I really learn to fight like that?” Tegan asked.

“Not exactly,” Morrow told her frankly. “But I can adapt the style for you and the staff is long enough that you can plant it if you stumble and then adjust your footing. It’s the best weapon for you.”

Stalker added, “Plus you can keep it with you. It may not even occur to your enemies that you can smash their skulls with it … until it’s too late.”

That sounded like exactly what Tegan needed. I didn’t want the Freaks making right for her because she was dropping them too fast with a rifle. This was a quiet competence, exactly suited to her personality, a subtle threat right out in the open. For her part, she seemed pleased when she took the branch from Morrow.

He turned to me. “Unless you have something else for us to do, I’d like to start now.”

“Go on,” I said.

Afterward, I decided it seemed strange—him asking me for permission. But there was no question I’d started this endeavor, so that made me in charge by default, no matter whether I was doing a good job. I wondered if Silk felt this way when she first took command of the Hunters, as if it were wrong for all of them to look to her for orders. At that moment, I realized it had been a long time since I heard her voice in my head; I wasn’t sure what that meant, precisely, but I suspected I had changed until my mind no longer worked in the same way. And that meant my memory of Silk had no insight to offer, no oft-repeated homilies.

In other words, I was on my own.

I moved off to give them space to train. Stalker followed me, likely with the same goal. But he looked troubled, and I was determined to be a friend, even if he didn’t want me to be.

So I asked, “What’s wrong? It can’t be the lack of action.”

He smiled wryly at that, the movement pulling at his scars. We’d just burned twenty-nine more Freaks. For a band of twelve souls poorly armed and living in trees, our body count was impressive. As long as the hunting was good, the snows held off, and the horde stayed out of our territory, we could continue like this indefinitely.

“No. I was just wondering … do you think I could ever make things up to Tegan? I know I apologized and she said she forgave me because I didn’t know any better but … I feel like I need to do something more. It’s eating at me.”