So what he actually said landed like a kick in the teeth. "Deuce is leaving tonight. Elder Bigwater made it sound like a rescue mission, one she has a chance of succeeding at, but I'm afraid he's sending my girl out to die."
The basket slipped from my hands, hit the floor with a thunk, and desperation cracked my voice. "You can't let her go."
He wore a wry, weary smile. "Did you ever try to stop that girl when she's running? I'd have more luck roping the wind."
"I can't talk her out of it," I said quietly. "We're not on the best terms, as I guess you figured out."
"I've come to ask you, man to man, to go with her. Whatever maggot you've got in your head, I know you care about her. I can't fight, so I'm begging you, Fade. Don't let her go out there alone."
My eyes stung, but I'd rather die than expose myself as weak and broken before Deuce's father. Somehow I swallowed it all down and managed to say, "I can't. I'm not man enough."
"You think a man doesn't fall down, son? A real man falls down nine times and gets up ten. You think real men don't get scared? We do, all the time, especially when the people we love can be taken away from us. The key to manhood is being there, every morning when she wakes up, every night before she goes to bed. That's what a man does. It has nothing to do with how good you are with some shiny knives. And if you let her do this thing alone, then by God—"
"I'll go," I said, staggered by the intensity in his voice, in the way he was leaning forward in his chair, like he might very well choke me if I didn't agree.
"Glad you saw reason," he said, pushing to his feet.
Edmund didn't offer his hand to shake, which told me he'd noticed the way I shied away in the shop. Not a reflex I wanted or controlled—to my own eyes, I was like a whipped dog that shivered anytime people got too close. But the older man did dip his head in silent thanks as he headed out. At the door, he paused. "Eat some of that supper, you'll need the strength for the road."
I took him at his word and devoured the contents of the basket as quick as I could, then I set it on the shelf in Longshot's kitchen. It was easy to picture him here, so happy with his wife. Some loves could never be replaced, and men spent their lives chasing that light into the shadows, until the long walk opened up, one last journey before the final homecoming.
Deuce is that love for me.
This time, when someone rapped on the door, I was expecting it, but I took my time about answering, tremors shaking over me. Each time, seeing her ripped my heart out like the pain was brand new, like I'd just bleed out on the floor. But the darkness leveled me out, kept from showing her how wrecked I was.
The pale oval of her face gleamed in the moonlight. She stepped back half a pace when she saw me, and my fingers curled. It's starting already. Things can never be the same. You'll always be the one she found trussed up like an animal.
In reaction, sharp words snapped out before I could stop them, poison I feared would eat through any warmth she had left for me. "Did you forget something?"
I'll never let you fight alone. I promised your father, and I'll watch after you, best I can. If I can't be with you, I can die for you. In time, you'll remember me the way I was, before. And that'd probably be best.
"Just this." Stretching up on tiptoe, she pressed her lips to my cheek. The heat sparked through me, making me yearn for so many beautiful, impossible things that I actually recoiled from the weight of that want. "Good-bye, Fade."
If she had whipped out her blades and stabbed me in the side, it couldn't have hurt more. For a few seconds, I couldn't get my breath, drowning in the icy water of that rejection. "I deserve that."
"What?" She was already turning. Elder Bigwater had given her a mission, and it didn't matter if she left me behind.
I shouldn't mind. That's what I wanted. I told her to forget me. But getting what I'd asked for had never felt worse. In that moment, I doubted my impulses hard, as Edmund's words echoed in my head. The key to manhood is being there. So dying for her might not be the answer. Maybe... maybe I didn't have to be perfect. Maybe it was enough to... try.
I choked out, "That you don't trust me enough to ask for my help. Or maybe you think I'm not strong enough to be of any use."
"I don't think that." Her shoulders were set, spine straight, and her loose plait wrapped around her shoulder. The nape of her neck was beautiful, a sliver of cream against the contrast of her hair. Any other time, I'd come up behind her, wrap my arms around her and kiss her right there while whispering an apology for my idiocy, but I didn't deserve her forgiveness. Yet.
Someday, though, I'll fight my way back—fall down nine times, get up ten.
"We're still partners, aren't we?" I feared her answer. Maybe I'd used up all my chances, and by being stupid and stubborn, I could never, ever win her back.
Deuce turned then, and her gray eyes gave me hope. They were all softness, tilted to mine in a look as sweet and tender as a kiss. My heart gave a ferocious thump when she whispered, "I never left. I didn't request your help because I was trying to do what was right for you. Obviously, having you there is always best for me."
That seemed too magnificent to be true yet I believed her. My girl never, ever lied. For some reason, she still lit up when she gazed at me. The first time I saw that expression, she was licking sweet cherries from my fingers and the memory stole my breath, along with the power of speech.
Don't ever stop looking at me. I'm the shadow behind your light, and I might just disappear without you. I don't deserve you, but I can't give you up, either.
My voice came out hoarse. "I don't want to stay here. I don't even want to be in my own skin. Can I come with you?"
I can't let her say no. Besides the promise to Edmund, I'd go crazy if she walked away from me. Right then, she was my sole reason for living, even if I was doing my best to drive her away. The logic had seemed sound on her naming day—I couldn't reveal the full extent of my shortcomings when I knew how she felt about being a Huntress. How Silk would laugh at the weakling I'd become.
No Hunter would let himself be taken. You should've died. You're not a man. You're food. Then I almost threw up; it took all my will to choke it down.
Deuce reached for me, then drew back, as if remembering that touch wasn't what I wanted anymore. I did, but close contact had so many echoes, like a child weeping at the bottom of a well. My foster father, the Muties, years alone in the dark... there had been so much pain, so much loss, but being taken? Changed me. I couldn't silence the scream in my head that said I should've been strong enough, smart enough, to stop it. No matter how I tried, that accusation never ceased.