Chapter 40
Lucky throws off the saddle blanket he was sleeping with and stretches. ‘Thanks for that ointment; I’m feeling loads better. But – hoo wee – my bladder is more bloated than a cow’s stomach on fresh clover.’
The moment Lucky disappears, Levi throws on a shirt and leans closer. ‘So, are we going to talk about how your new wife has turned out to be a villain? The very reason we’re about to risk our lives against an armed militia? Because I think we should talk about it.’
He’s been waiting for the right moment. And he’s going to be waiting some more. ‘I’d rather not.’ I splash water on my face from a spare canteen. It doesn’t really wake me up, not like the rain last night did. Or the way my mind wouldn’t stop running, trying to find a way to fix everything.
Levi scoffs. ‘Look, I know Agatha’s your one chance at the connection, but you can’t be serious about wanting her back. She’s currently trying to blow up Kingsland.’ He mimes an explosion with his hands.
My jaw clenches.
He stands to strap on his sword belt, then tries again.
‘You know, the connection wasn’t meant to be a prison sentence.
Just because you’re noticing the two of you are coming together, doesn’t mean you can’t walk away.
It’s not a love potion; it just makes love more likely.
Everything about the connection requires choice. Even now. If you ask me, you don’t –’
‘I didn’t ask you,’ I say sharply. I don’t expect him to understand. To him, the connection looks like a joyride. To me, it’s an honour. A privilege, no matter whom it’s with.
It’s fate.
But he’s also not saying anything I haven’t already been chewing over. ‘I made a vow.’
I made a vow to both Marian and Agatha, and I intend to keep both. Loving Marian from a distance will be simultaneously the easiest and hardest task of my life.
Yet the connection is proof that only Agatha is my wife.
So it’s settled. I don’t like it. I don’t want it.
But there’s destiny to consider, right? Because if there is some great design behind the connection and it’s not just happenstance of a gene mutation, then this is where I’m supposed to be, with Agatha. All I can do now is make peace with it.
Somehow.
Levi stares at me, his face the most serious I’ve ever seen it. ‘Nobody would blame you if you broke –’
‘I would,’ I say, cutting him off. And that’s the crux of it. I couldn’t live with myself.
Or could I?
‘It’s done,’ I say. ‘And it can’t be undone.
There’s nothing more to do but move forward.
And as far as Agatha – she made a rash decision …
’ Because of me. I can’t even imagine how she must have felt if she saw the whole dream.
‘She’s not a bad person. And now she’s my wife, so …
we’re going to find her and I’m going to bring her home. Fix this.’
Levi’s gaze flicks to someone over my shoulder. I turn. Not only is Samuel back from watch, but he’s brought company.
My heart full-on stops. ‘Marian,’ I choke out. The last thing she needs is to have any of this rubbed in her face.
Samuel scratches his crooked nose. ‘You guys should come see what our girl brought.’
Everyone follows Samuel, with me bringing up the rear.
We walk a while through the trees to a more open area and find Marian didn’t come alone.
Dezzy and a couple of guardsmen – Fitzgerald and one who I think is named Clark – stand with a loaded trailer.
Rufus is here, too. I grimace when I see his armour.
Fine. I won’t stop him from coming, since we need the help.
Lucky’s first to look at the supplies they towed here and hoots a laugh. ‘You empty the armoury or something?’
‘Something like that,’ Marian says, fighting a grin.
Her face has been washed, her hair braided.
She’s got weapons everywhere – leather straps holding knives to her thighs, fitted armour on her chest and forearms. A sword hangs from her belt.
She’s a vision, even hiding pain. A warrior goddess – the kind you take a knee before, then go on to conquer worlds in her name.
Even the hint of her smile has warmth surging through my veins.
My body craves her, remembering too vividly everything.
Her fire. Her laugh. Her taste. Will I ever forget?
I force myself to scan the trees, so I don’t do something stupid, like stare or beg her to take me back, connection be damned.
‘But how?’ Lucky asks. ‘No place is as secure as the armoury.’
‘Usually,’ Marian agrees. ‘Except Atlas took most of the guardsmen. And …’ she gestures at Fitzgerald and Clark, ‘turns out all I had to do was ask nicely. We talked, and they want to help. So they’re going to come with us.’
Good. More fighters.
‘We have food for you, too,’ Dezzy says. ‘I know such handsome and … fertile men require incredible amounts of nutrition.’
Marian bows her head, lips pulled tight.
Dezzy turns to Rufus. ‘Of course, I’m not talking about you, but you can eat it too.
We’ve packed enough food to feed your small army.
’ Her gaze grows serious as it settles on me.
‘You bring my girls back home. You hear me? Both of them. Safe.’ Then she pulls Marian into a hug, whispering in her ear.
Marian hugs her back just as fiercely, though I can see her wince as Dezzy’s arms brush her injured back.
I look away, tense. That’s the plan. But that’s also not a promise I can make.
We spend the next hour loading our mounts with as many weapons as we can carry. It doesn’t make sense to pull a trailer. Not when we need speed. At least with the three extra riders, we’re able to carry more of everything.
I forgot the stress of riding outside of protected territory. How you can never let your guard down. Not if you want to live.
‘Vagabonds,’ Levi calls out, only minutes into our ride.
Already? I close the distance I’ve worked to put between Marian and me. Our group of eight stops, weapons raised as four riders pass us, horses galloping.
‘That was easy,’ says Lucky.
My eyes accidentally meet Marian’s, and my heart throbs as I absorb every detail. No pain on her face. ‘It was this time,’ I say, then with a kick of my heels, ride ahead.
We make camp when it’s nearly dark. The horses need the rest, and securing an overnight location with a surveillance advantage beats getting in an extra mile.
‘Levi and I will take first watch,’ Samuel says. ‘The muskrats can do the second.’
‘Who are the muskrats?’ asks Rufus.
He nods at Fitzgerald and Clark. ‘The one with the handful of whiskers on his chin and the one with the teeth.’
Clark points at his mouth. ‘What’s wrong with my teeth?’
Samuel glares. ‘Did I say there was anything wrong with them?’
‘Lucky and I will take last watch,’ I say, leaving no room for Marian. Though she hasn’t complained even once about her injuries, she needs the rest the most.
Then there’s Rufus, who will never be left on watch.
After a meal of bread and dried meat, we unroll our mats and without the heat of a fire, lie together under the open sky.
It looks like we’ll avoid rain tonight. Marian’s bed, although not beside mine, is still within sight – I made sure of it.
I’d never sleep if she wasn’t close enough to get to quickly if we’re raided.
In the morning, I feed and saddle the horses, pretending not to notice Marian.
But I do. Her sleepy eyes steal my breath as she packs up her bedroll.
Strands of long, dark hair have come loose from her braid.
Heat, and something I definitely should not be feeling, stirs in my gut as she raises her foot to a log, then adjusts the weapon straps on her thighs.
I turn away and force myself to think of Agatha and her possible location. We’ve seen their wagon tracks, and if she continues on the path I dreamed about they’ll be moving quickly, travelling mostly downhill. I doubt we’ll reach them today.
We ride out and soon find ourselves looking down on one of the many red forests. Marian slows her horse. The whole group follows.
‘I’ve never seen this before,’ she says.
That’s right. She’s never really been away from Notting territory, and I’m tempted to tell her more about this place.
I don’t.
‘When will the colour change back?’ Fitzgerald asks, bewildered.
‘Hopefully never,’ says Samuel. ‘It’s a warning that it’s contaminated. You don’t ever want that to go away.’
Marian looks around, thoughtful, and it hits me how much this is like a scene straight from my dream – me showing her the red forest. Except we’re not alone.
We’re barely even talking.
‘We need to keep moving,’ I say, roughly, and take off, leading the way.
For the last few hours of the day, we ride over dry, barren land that leaves us caked in dust. A light rain surprises us, turning the dirt to mud. We decide to stop an hour before sunset and make camp beside a creek so we can clean up and dry out before it gets cold.
We’re probably only hours from catching Atlas and his guards now. But better to ambush him when we’re not exhausted and have daylight to see what we’re dealing with.
Fitzgerald, Clark and Rufus go first, washing up by the water as the rest of us eat and take watch. Then Lucky, Sam, Levi and I take our turns. Because of the freezing water and remarkably strong current, only Levi and I brave a swim.
Marian waits to go last, and the moment she disappears behind the trees, it hits me that she can’t go alone.
‘Marian,’ I call and run up to her. Water drips down my face, and I scrub a hand over my hair. My shirt is damp from where I pulled it on over my soaking body.
She looks over, startled. I don’t blame her.
It’s been an entire day of not talking. Of me not risking a glance her way, even though I knew exactly where she was every second.
But now, I take her in like a starved man.
She’s dirty and her cheeks are slightly wind-burnt. Every part of her makes my heart race.
I don’t know how I’m going to walk away from you.
The ache in my chest is suffocating. I clear my throat like that will help. ‘You can’t be in the creek without cover. You need somebody to stand watch.’
‘Okay,’ she says. Then she walks off.
For a second, my body locks in place. I didn’t mean … me.
Do you really want it to be anyone else?
Breaking into a jog, I run to catch up.
She reaches the edge of the creek, and I’m silent as she washes her hands. Then she removes her hair tie, unwinds her braid and shakes the dust from her hair.
I should get an award for turning my head away.
‘My bandages are wet from the rain,’ she says, dumping her weapons and jacket on the bank. ‘They’ll need to come off, and I should go for a swim – to keep the wounds clean.’
I wince at the sweet temptation to help her. But assisting Marian in any state of undress is not a good idea. ‘Do you …’ My eyes close. ‘Need help?’
She doesn’t answer at first. ‘I can handle it.’
I inhale. Good.
Except I’m also disappointed. Which leads to guilt – because you’re married and connected to someone else, you halfwit.
She pauses, and I realise she’s waiting for me to not just turn my head.
‘Right,’ I mutter, and face the other way. Unfortunately, the gentle noise of moving water doesn’t mute the sounds of her clothes hitting the ground.
She hisses as she wades into the water and comes up sputtering after she dunks her head.
I smile, remembering exactly how cold it was. ‘A little chilly?’ I call out.
‘S-s-o cold.’ Her teeth chatter.
I chuckle. ‘Watch out for that current. You don’t want me to have to come and get you.’
‘Yeah, that would be … bad.’
My nostrils flare at the thinly veiled taunt.
This is torture.
After another minute, she makes her way back to the shore. But there’s a sudden splash.
‘Marian?’ I shout and wait. With a curse, I spin and find her gone. I run right into the creek, and the waist-deep water immediately slams into me, trying to sweep me away.
Her head emerges sputtering, further down the stream.
‘You okay?’ I ask when I reach her, holding on to her arm.
Her eyes widen at seeing me, as she coughs and pushes hair out of her eyes.
‘Slippery,’ I tease, with a grin.
‘Yes. And c-cold. So, I’m going to stand up now.’ Her head is barely out of the water despite it only being a few feet deep. In my peripheral vision, I catch a glimpse of her white skin.
I whip around and walk back to the bank, boots sloshing with every step. She follows not far behind me and dresses.
I’m so distracted, a vagabond army could be staging an ambush in front of me and I doubt I’d notice. ‘Do you have more bandages?’
‘I do. They’re in my pocket.’ She grunts like she’s pulling on a boot. ‘I just need to …’ She doesn’t finish.
‘What?’
‘Nothing. I’ll figure it out.’
She needs help wrapping her back. But getting any closer to her, being the one to care for her, it’d be cruel to both of us. Not to mention my resolve to be a good and honourable husband to Agatha is already hanging by a thread.
‘It’s safe to turn around now,’ she says.
I’m not so sure about that. Slowly, I spin and find her dressed, her fingers working on the last button of her shirt.
‘Marian,’ I say, unable to stop myself. ‘What about your bandages?’ There’s no way she did it already.
‘It’s fine,’ she brushes off.
It’s not. She needs them. I extend my hand and become certain of two things – I’m about to play with fire, and I don’t care nearly enough about whether I’m burned.
‘Give me the dressing. Let me help you.’