Horde (Razorland #3)(61)

Fade nodded. “It made my flesh crawl, hearing it speak. I’m not used to thinking of them as anything but mindless monsters.”

He wasn’t alone in that.

Morrow tipped his head toward the woods. “That’s our cue. We should tell the others, then pack things up. We’ve won a concession from the Freaks, and the colonel needs to know that it’s possible.”

I didn’t know whether it was the best course to abandon the ground we’d only recently gained but with the first snow due any day now, I couldn’t rationalize keeping us in the field much longer. Historically speaking, the winter months slowed Freak activity. They might be faster and stronger and might be able to go longer without food and water, but they froze just like humans. The horde might diminish through starvation by the time spring rolled around again.

I could hope anyway.

“Let’s give it two days, make sure we don’t see any movement. They might’ve put a sentry near the camp to see how we respond.”

“If there are any Freaks in the wood,” Fade said, “then the scouts will find them.”

Homeward

Though we waited the full two days, the scouts spotted no Freaks within the posted boundary. At that point, I gave orders for us to move out. It was just as well, for as we gathered the last of our supplies, the first white flakes drifted down through the bare branches. I was a little sorry to be leaving, but we couldn’t survive the winter here. Game would be scarce, and exposure would end us.

John Kelley traveled with us to Soldier’s Pond. “I was on my way there anyway. The trip to see about your smoke signal was a detour.”

That reminded me. “Is that common? Once, somebody saved us because he saw our fire. Does it usually mean the party needs help?”

“Depends,” Kelley answered. “But often, yes. A smart traveler doesn’t light a fire, unless he needs it for some vital reason, and he never lets it get big enough to be seen for miles. Anybody who does is essentially inviting all travelers in the area. It could be benign, a request to trade, could be somebody’s sick or hurt, could be a trap. So it’s best to be prepared if you ever answer one like I did.”

Like Longshot had.

“I understand.”

“I feel like I have to ask. Is everything that rascal Morrow told me true?”

“About me?” I shrugged. “Some of it. Not the part where I was raised by wolves, suckled by bears, and that I can fly.”

Kelley laughed. Before he could respond, though, we were approaching Soldier’s Pond, close enough that the guard called out in surprise, “I thought the lot of you were dead. You’ve been gone a long time.”

Morrow shouted back, “Tell the colonel she owes me a drink.”

That made no sense at all to me, but I didn’t have the chance to ask what he meant as the guards were lowering the defenses to permit us inside. The town looked more or less the same, squads running even in this weather, all dressed in drab green. Soldiers at the gate peppered us with questions about where we’d been—what towns, what was it like out there—and it occurred to me this wasn’t so different from Salvation. People were being strangled in Soldier’s Pond in the name of security. Colonel Park kept them safe, at the cost of their spirits. More than ever, I wanted to change the prevailing conditions so that people could visit nearby Winterville or Otterburn without losing their lives.

“This way,” Morrow said, sidestepping the questions. Over his shoulder he called, “If you wanted to share our adventures, you should’ve signed on. Now you’ll have to wonder.”

That was unlike him, but the rest of us followed. People watched and whispered as we passed through. A few of them called out to John Kelley, who apparently wasn’t a stranger. He’d probably visited the same towns we had, only with less resistance and difficulty. A woman stopped him and asked for news in Appleton. He waved to let me know he’d be along.

The lot of us went directly to HQ in all our forest dirt. It wasn’t as bad as it might’ve been since there was a brook nearby, but scrubbing with pine branches was scratchy, incomplete, and left you smelling of sap. I hadn’t washed my hair properly in weeks. But I wasn’t worried about any of that as Morrow interrupted the colonel’s meeting with the grand pleasure of someone about to prove a point.

I opened my mouth, but he shushed me. Glancing at the others, I decided they had no idea of his agenda, but I obeyed and quieted. At that point, he spun an impressive tale of a long journey and an impossible goal full of obstacles and monsters. That was when I figured out he was crafting a proper story about what we’d accomplished since we left. When he finished, every soul in the building was quiet, even Colonel Park.

She stared at him. “Swear to me on your mother’s name, everything you’ve said is true.”

“The meat and bone of it,” he promised. “I always paint a pretty face, but I never lie, Emilia.” Then, to my surprise—and I think everyone in the room—he kissed both her cheeks. Clearly I didn’t understand their relationship. “This changes everything.”


“I didn’t think it was possible for those monsters to learn,” she said, almost to herself.

I spoke for the first time. “They’re definitely changing.”

It wasn’t clear to me what our role was in Soldier’s Pond. We didn’t report to her, but it seemed polite to offer what knowledge we’d gathered in exchange for supplies and shelter. So I picked up where Morrow’s tale left off, and I filled in details, mostly related to altered Freak behavior, but also about towns we’d visited and the deal the Freaks had offered Otterburn.