Horde (Razorland #3)(62)

Her normally detached expression faltered, revealing a trace of pure horror. She mastered it swiftly, but not before I saw the truth. The colonel averted her eyes, directing them to her maps. With a pencil she outlined the territory we had secured.

“So this is promised to be Mutie-free?”

I nodded. “We weren’t fighting the horde, just hunting parties, but it should help. If the larger group decides to attack, however, the truce means nothing.”

“It’s more than I thought you’d achieve when you set out,” she admitted.

“Just think what we could do if your men weren’t all such cowards,” Stalker said flatly.

Things went downhill from there. Shortly afterward, I left HQ, longing for a bath and to see my family, definitely in that order. I shrugged deeper into the coat Edmund had made for me—it was soft leather lined in fleece shorn from the sheep they kept in the animal pens. That part of town was noisy and smelly, unavoidable when space was limited. In Soldier’s Pond they addressed that by making people sleep in narrow cots stacked one atop another; there was little focus on private space like there had been in Salvation. In some ways, this town was more like down below with its focus on duty to the collective, the dearth of amenities, and savorless food. On the plus side, they didn’t seem to mind who did the killing or wore pants. From what I could see, everybody here worked as a Hunter. They just had to turn their hands to other jobs too. That probably explained why the clothes were poorly sewn and the food was terrible. Anyone with a grain of sense knew you needed Builders like Edmund too.

“I’ll meet you in the mess for dinner,” I said to Fade, who kissed the top of my head.

I lifted a hand in farewell and hurried to the bathhouse, empty at this time of day. The scarcity of the sun meant the water was only a little better than ice cold; I bore it, though the soft soap didn’t lather much and it took me twice as long to scrape the wilderness out of my hair. After, I dug out the clean traveling clothes I kept aside for special occasions. As I tugged on the dun brown trousers with a tie at the waist, I knew a moment’s regret for the loss of the dresses I hadn’t even wanted at first. But by the time I had my shirt on, my lovely, polished boots, and the lined jacket, I didn’t care so much. It was better to be warm than pretty.

My hair went into neat plaits, and I hoped they didn’t freeze as I stepped out into the biting air. The snow had followed us from the forest, white stars now slanting downward from a gray sky. I ran all the way to the house where I’d find my parents waiting; it was late enough that Edmund might even be done at the workshop. To my delight, I found all of them there, just gathering for dinner.

“Deuce!” Momma Oaks had her arms around me before I was halfway in the door.

“I don’t think I ever said it, but I love you all … very much.”

Edmund and Rex both grabbed me close until I was squashed on all sides. It was pretty close to the best I ever felt. I tried to hug my whole family at the same time but my arms weren’t long enough. My mother kissed me all over my cold cheeks. Her eyes were sparkling when she stepped back to look at me.

“Well, you’re not bleeding, so I take it your mission was a success?”

“In a manner of speaking. I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”

“Are you home for a while?” Edmund asked.

They got their own coats and stepped out. My father stared up anxiously at the sky, and I could tell without him saying it that he was worried about us traveling in this weather. “I think so. There isn’t a whole lot we can do during the snowy months.”

Momma Oaks nodded in satisfaction. “It’s odd here, but we’re pulling our weight, and the men seem to like Edmund’s work awfully well.”

“I imagine.” I’d seen what they wore before; Edmund’s shoes were magical by comparison.

“They’ve got us making leather grips for weapons,” Rex put in.

“I suspect they’ll make a permanent exception for you,” I said. “If you want to stay.”

“Where would we go?” Momma Oaks asked.

It was an excellent question. So far, in my travels, I hadn’t found a place I thought would suit them better. Considering all the soldiers, the metal defenses, and cache of weapons, plus the extra breathing room I’d won from the Freaks, I couldn’t fathom a safer place. Whether they were happy and comfortable, if they actually felt at home, those were questions I didn’t dare ask.

To my astonishment, when I strode into the mess hall, applause broke out. Some of the men rose to their feet and saluted me, just like they did the colonel or some other important person who ran around barking orders. I glanced over my shoulder in reflex, thinking they must mean somebody else, and Edmund nudged me.

“You have to acknowledge them somehow, so they can go back to their meals.”

This was all completely new to me, so I racked my brain for what would serve, then I touched my brow with two fingers as Longshot had when he was being respectful of some good idea. The soldiers loved it; some stomped their feet, and others banged cutlery on the table until the cook yelled at them to pipe down.

“My goodness,” Momma Oaks said. “What in the world did you do out there?”

“Let’s get our food, then I’ll tell you.”

The story was half over, though not as exciting as Morrow made it sound, when Fade arrived. Since the rest of us had barely touched our meals, he had plenty of time to catch up. Rex and Edmund offered their hands to shake and Momma Oaks contented herself with a warm smile, though she wanted to squeeze him. But she was an observant woman, and she’d doubtless noticed the way he pulled his body in when surrounded by people.