Ann Aguirre: Horde

“Who? I might know him. Otterburn’s a pretty small place.”

I tried to picture the girl Szarok had put in my head, then I did my best to describe her. “I’m not sure of her name … and she’d be older now, maybe by as many as ten years.”

“There aren’t too many black-haired, blue-eyed girls living here. Let me ask around.” Before I could say this was my responsibility, John Kelley took off.

And, honestly, I was weary enough that I didn’t mind. I opened my pack and ate some nuts and berries we’d picked on the way to town. Sitting nearby, Gavin devoured his share; I’d noticed how he always stayed close enough to touch me, nothing obvious, just a bump of his foot or an awkward jab of elbow. At some point over the last few weeks, we’d become family.

A bit later, John Kelley came back with news. “There are two girls that could be who you’re looking for. Should I send for them?”

“If you don’t mind.”

One look, and I recognized the child from Szarok’s memory, so I dismissed the other. She seemed nervous when I did so. She was a year younger than I was, with long black hair and eyes like the heart of a flower. Before I could stop her, she dropped to one knee, like I was a princess from one of Morrow’s stories. Wide-eyed, I glanced at Gavin, who shrugged. He had spent too much time smelling me on the road to think I was special.

A number of Otterburn folk lingered to hear what I wanted from her, and I ignored them. When I pulled her to her feet, the girl was shaking. She kept her gaze turned down.

“What’s your name?” I asked gently.

“Millie, ma’am.”

I debated inwardly whether I should tell her in private, but then I decided such recognition would probably raise her status in town—and she deserved it. “Do you recall tending an injured creature in the woods when you were small?”

Her head jerked up. “Yes, ma’am.”

“She’s always dragging home some wounded thing and doctoring it,” a man volunteered.

“But this wasn’t a rabbit or a squirrel, was it, Millie?”

She paled. “No. Am I in trouble? I never brought it near the village.”

“The exact opposite,” I assured her. “I’ve actually come to thank you. Because what you did when you were a little girl saved our lives.”

By the look on her face, she had no idea what I was talking about … and she suspected I was crazy. So I explained what Szarok had told me—omitting the part where he shared the memory directly—and by the time I finished, everyone in Otterburn was staring at her as if she were the biggest hero they’d ever seen.

“So he remembered me?” she asked in a tiny voice.

“He did. And he told his son how kind you were. It’s what made the Uroch decide to ally with us instead of fighting alongside their kin. You first gave them hope that we could be persuaded to make peace.”

“ I did that?”

I smiled at her. “Never underestimate your importance, Millie. You’re a hero, same as anybody who fought at the river … and maybe more. Because it takes more courage to heal the world’s hurts than to inflict them.”

They threw a party in Otterburn that night in Millie’s honor—and in celebration of the permanent end to the tithes. Gavin and I crept away while she basked in the attention, and we got half a day down the road before I was too tired to continue, and we made camp by moonlight. In the morning, we walked on, and a few days later, we made Winterville, where I repeated the tidings with the same results that I’d received in all the towns.

Dr. Wilson hadn’t lost anyone but he came out to see me before we left. “Is Tegan well?”

I laughed. “She is. Tending the wounded in Rosemere, last I heard.”

The scientist nodded. “Good. You remind her she promised she’d study with me if she made it through your mad war.”

“I will.”

“Are we done here?” Gavin demanded.

He had been patient, but the days were cooling off, and I was weary of wandering. We caught a ride with a trader I didn’t know on his way to Soldier’s Pond—and though the mules were slow, I didn’t complain. That night, I dreamed of Longshot; it was the shortest dream I ever had, but one I would cherish until the day I died. We stood in a field of gold, the sun shining down. He was hale and whole as he walked with me.

For a little while he said nothing, then: “I’m proud of you, girl.”

Then he turned, melting into the light, until I could see only his face. He offered me one final two-fingered salute, and I woke smiling. Gavin was staring at me because I didn’t usually awaken in such a cheerful mood. The mules were flatulent too, so there was precious little to be happy about, crammed in the back of a wagon amid crates of trade goods. Yet I was.

“We’re almost there,” he said.

I hadn’t asked if he wanted to stay in Winterville. No doubt he didn’t, as he’d lost both his parents, and he’d seemed truly eager to get away. At this point I didn’t know what to do with him, but I’d figure it out. A few hours later, Soldier’s Pond appeared in the distance. It took forever for the wagons to reach the fences. They don’t need them anymore, I thought. The security measures were unhinged for the first time in my memory, and the guards rushed to greet us. I thought they were eager to check out the supplies, but instead, they pulled me out of the wagon and tossed me up on their shoulders. Other towns had welcomed me, but never like this.

As the soldiers carried me, the crowd beyond the gates chanted, “Huntress! Huntress!” until I couldn’t hear anything but that. The wild nature of the greeting was unsettling, as if in their eagerness they might pull me apart, like dogs too hungry for the same bone. I tolerated the attention until we got some distance into town, then I shouted, “Put me down!”

“Give the heroine some room,” the colonel ordered.

Colonel Park pushed through the mob toward me, gesturing so that everyone backed off. I appreciated that, even as I said, “I don’t want a party. Tell me something of substance.”

“I’ve received word from Appleton … your Szarok wants to draft permanent peace treaties … and trade agreements. As part of the accord, they’re offering to share some new technology with us. They’ve apparently found some fascinating things in the ruins and they’re working out how to use them.”

I remembered the exploding sticks Szarok and I had used in signaling each other, and I nodded. “It would be a mistake to underestimate them … or to treat the Uroch with anything less than absolute courtesy.”

They had done a brave and awful thing by killing their brethren. If my elders all went mad, I didn’t know whether I could ally with the enemy to end the threat, no matter how much they deserved it. Just thinking about it turned my stomach.

“It’s a new world, Deuce.” The colonel smiled.

I leveled a hard look on her. “I can trust you with this, right?”

Colonel Park didn’t take offense at the implication. “I’ll offer fair terms and respect their customs. Nobody wants the hostilities to resume.”

Satisfied, I figured it was time to leave the details to other people. Councilmen and mayors in towns all over the territories could sign documents and make promises. To my mind, I had done enough.

“I thought your hands were tied,” I said then. “Your power limited.”

She shrugged. “I ignored them. They blustered for a while, but the men demanded to march, especially when Vince Howe started yelling about how we’d never see a single wagon load of anything if we were such yellow cowards that we’d let you die.”

“Sounds like quite a speech. Where’s my family?” I rose on tiptoe and peered through the milling crowd. These men had known me for a while, but they all seemed unduly impressed, like I was about to be amazing while starving, cranky, and covered in road dust. My back was sore, too, from the wagon.