Horde (Razorland #3)(58)

“It’s working,” Fade said. “Word’s getting out and they’re starting to avoid these woods.”

I hoped he was right.

As time wore on, the air took on a familiar chill, and the sky overhead went pale on those odd moments when I glimpsed it through a tangle of tree limbs. Morrow trained Tegan daily, and she grew proficient with the staff. As I watched her drill, I thought she’d do well. Life had taught her to be brave and strong—that as long as she didn’t give up, there was no such thing as defeat. Which made her a fighter as well as a healer, and I envied her that. Sometimes I wondered what—and who—I would be without my blades.

On days without combat, the rest of us sparred and scouted, tended the fire, enhanced the aerial defenses, set more traps, hunted, and cooked. The work wasn’t exciting, but it helped to have a routine, occasionally punctuated with violence. It had been two days since they’d attacked last, and I was starting to get restless when Stalker burst into the clearing.

He was out of breath, which usually meant inbound monsters. But this time he wore another expression. “There’s someone on the way to camp. I’ve been watching for a while, and he’s negotiated all of our defenses. What should we do?”

“He’s human?” Fade asked.

“Definitely.”

I made the decision swiftly. “Let him come. It’ll be a nice change to have company.”

The scouts dogged the stranger’s steps until he found the clearing. The older man wore an amazed expression as he took in what we’d built: the platforms and pulleys, the nets and makeshift roof built across the top. We’d created a tiny town in the treetops, and I was proud of it. Tully didn’t smile when she spotted him; she occupied her usual perch and, if he made trouble, she would shoot him without a qualm.

I recognized the fellow but couldn’t place where I’d seen him. He wore the raw skins and furs of one who made a living traveling the wilderness. All towns were glad to receive hides suitable for tanning. Along with other traders, trappers also played the role of messengers, carrying news from town to town.

“You didn’t find us by chance,” I said.

Fade stepped up beside me, then Stalker and Morrow flanked my other side. Part of me approved of this show of solidarity, but the other half was annoyed by the implication that I needed help dispatching one weathered old man, who killed animals for a living. I made mine battling something much more dangerous.

“I did not,” the trapper admitted. “I’ve survived the wilderness for years and I didn’t manage by being careless. When I noticed the Muties veering away from here, I was curious … and concerned. Then there was that giant plume of smoke…”

“You wondered what could be enough to frighten them away?” Morrow guessed.

“Exactly so, young sir.” He assessed the camp in a glance. “And I also wonder what you hope to gain by claiming this stretch of wood.”

That was a complicated question. He didn’t know about my big dreams or my larger failures. So I just leveled a hard look on him. “I reckon that’s our business. You’re welcome to our hospitality, provided you mean no harm, but our food and protection isn’t free.”

The trapper looked interested then. “What do you propose? I can’t imagine you’re interested in these skins. With all the traps I spotted on the way in, you must know how to hunt.”

“You must’ve learned some tricks over the years. So spend some time with my scouts. Teach them what you know, along with how you spotted our defenses and any tips you have for making them less visible.” I glanced at Stalker, asking with a silent brow whether he had anything to add to my offer.

He responded with a slight shake of his head.

“That’s fair,” the trapper answered, seeming pleased. “I’m John Kelley, by the way.”

“Deuce. Nice to meet you.”

We shook hands then, and out here, that was as good as a promise we wouldn’t try to kill each other. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

I fixed him a bowl of stew. For the moment, it was quiet; the scouts currently in the field would warn us if they detected an imminent attack and surely Kelley would’ve mentioned it if he’d spotted any Freaks in the vicinity. In past weeks, we’d gotten good at quick response to incoming enemies.

“Where did you come from?” Morrow asked.

“Most recently, Gaspard. I had enough credit to board for a while. But then the chits ran out and I have to stock up on skins to afford a warm place to spend the winter.”

That was where I’d seen him before. He had been part of the crowd watching the altercation with the guards. I felt better after I figured that out; it relieved the niggling suspicion that he’d come for some reason other than curiosity.

“You’re in a dangerous line of work,” I observed.

“Says the girl camped out in a Mutie-filled forest.” He had a point. “But I saw how you handled yourselves in town. You trying to keep the area clear?”

I nodded. “It’ll be better for Soldier’s Pond if the Muties think this territory’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

“That where you’re from?”

“Some of us.” I didn’t bother to tell my real story.