Finding You

  I don’t know how to say that I was hurt. The weight of the story crushes my chest; I want it off, but somehow I can’t answer him. I can’t. Not yet, at least. I choke back the reason I never wrote. Instead, all I say is, “Not alone, exactly,” which makes him give me a funny look.

  “What’s wrong with you, Isla? So cryptic all of a sudden. I suppose I can’t leave and then expect the same girl to be waiting when I get home, huh?” He’s teasing, but my stomach turns.

  “I’m the same,” I insist, trying not to panic.

  “The Isla I knew would never have lived in the woods with rebels.” My mind turns to turmoil. Will he want somebody different? If he doesn’t want me to change, should I go back to the person I was before? I hate myself for thinking that way. Why should I try to be only what he wants? But I can’t help it.

  “What happened to you?” I ask, eager to change the subject so I can breathe. “When you left, you didn’t know where they’d take you, or what you’d do. Tell me about it.” I expect Tam to light up and bubble over with stories, but his eyes darken suddenly, his face turning ashen.

  “Nothing good,” he says seriously.

  “Tam?”

  He doesn’t answer at first. The corridor is bleak, and his silence makes it more so. “It wasn’t so bad at first, the training, I mean. A lot of exercise and early mornings. Not much food. We got our orders to march right away.” I reach over and take his hand while he struggles to cough up the words. He looks down at our fingers and takes a breath.

  “Our first orders brought us toward the border, east of the principal city. We made camp during the day and waited for commands. When they came, they … Well, there was this town, a country village, really, right nearby. We were told that when the rebels began to gather, they’d cleared it out and were using the barns and buildings to store weapons and food. They told us to burn it.

  “Seemed stupid to waste the supplies, but we had already learned that questioning orders got you flogged.” He grinds his teeth and his eyes flicker with a painful memory, but he’s not done. “So I obeyed. We all did.

  “When night fell, we surrounded the village and began to start the fires. It was so dry and hot, the flames caught easily, and the heat pushed us back. I stood with the other men and we watched walls crumbling. The roar of the flames was deafening. It took me a moment to recognize the sound of screams.”

  A chill ripples through me. “There were people inside? Oh, Tam. Did you help them?”

  “I couldn’t even get near the buildings, Isla. I tried, a bunch of us did. It was too late.” I realize that I’m squeezing his hand too tightly, so I drop it.

  “What horrible people,” I whisper, shaking my head. Like Curram, and Boyne, and Robbie, and everyone they work for and with. There is too much evil.

  “That wasn’t the only thing we did,” Tam says.

  Indignation rises up in me. “But why did you obey them?” I demand, taking a step backward. “Why did it take you so long to leave?”

  His eyes turn angry, but not at me. “We thought it had been a mistake, that our officers didn’t know there were people hiding there. The next night they sent us to another village, same orders. I suggested we check for inhabitants first, and the officer in charge told me that the first unit had already done so, after what had happened the night before. I was stupid to trust him.

  “We started the fires, and it wasn’t long before we heard the screams. Isla, I didn’t know what to do.” He looks frantic. “They turned us into murderers. I was so stupid. The next morning, I didn’t report for duty. I stayed in my tent, waiting for punishment. Most of us did.” He flashes me the smallest, briefest of smiles. “I wrote to you while we waited. Talking to you always helped before, and I needed to sort out everything in my head, you know? My letter was rubbish, though. You must—well, if you didn’t get it, I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. They had us flogged, and forced us into a line, to stand for hours, until our next orders.”

  His eyes look hollow as he talks, like he’s somewhere else. “That night was the same as the others, but without any of the pretenses. When we reached our new target, I refused to act and so did half of my unit. The officers screamed at us and beat us with their fists, but we remained still, until they drew their guns on us. Then we pretended to obey.

  “One of my buddies signaled, and when we got close to the buildings, we started yelling, shouting to warn the people, to help them escape. That was when the officers started shooting.” I flinch. “They were aiming for our legs; when we fell, they left us in the dirt, close enough to the fire that the heat burned us while we couldn’t move.”

  He shrugs. As if he’s fine. As if it doesn’t matter what he suffered. For the first time, I notice that his temple is marked with uneven, pink flesh. The scarring runs down as far as his jawline, faint but definitely noticeable now. I take a step closer, running my finger from one end of the patchy skin to the other; Tam closes his eyes and sets his mouth in a tight line, breathing through his nose.

  “They left us on the ground until they were finished,” he goes on as I take his hand again. “But before morning they dragged us back to the camp, to the infirmary tent, the dozen or so who were still alive. They should have killed us that night”—I flinch again—“but I guess they thought we’d learned our lesson.

  “We had a week to recover, but they found work for us around the camp, so we never got much of a chance to heal properly.” His limp. Of course. “I thought about deserting; a buddy of mine, Esau, did, and they found him, brought him back, and shot him half a dozen times while we had to watch.” He takes my other hand, drawing my gaze up to his.

  “I—I just want you to know that I wasn’t a coward,” he says. “I wanted to fight, to protect my country. I didn’t want to burn families alive inside their houses.” I nod, wishing my throat weren’t so tight so that I could reassure him with words. “A man approached me after that with questions about my feelings on the army, what I thought of Nicholas Carr. I found out he’d also been talking to the other guys who’d rebelled with me. Eventually he told us he was from the rebellion, the very people we’d been attacking. He wanted us to join him, and said he’d help us get out if we would swear our service to the rebels instead. We all agreed.

  “The next night we ran. It took three days to get here, three days of sprinting and hiding like hunted animals. But we made it.” He smiles a little, with one side of his mouth. “And then you found me.”

  twenty-one

  His words echo around in my head, heavy in the air.

  But then I remember my branded hand. I jerk away without thinking, and Tam takes a step back, looking upset. “I’m sorry,” he starts saying, almost frantically. “I should have warned you, it’s just I forget sometimes because it doesn’t hurt anymore, but I don’t mean to upset you.” He’s cupping his right hand around the left one, hiding it from me.

  “What?” I sputter, confused.

  “It’s not so terrible, really. I wasn’t scarred as badly as some. I’m sorry.”

  “Tam,” I say, realizing he thinks that his burn marks have repulsed me. “Let me see. I want to.”

  He tries to look nonchalant. “Don’t be nice for my sake, Isla. It’s really—”

  “Tam. When you scraped half the skin off your leg trying to ride that rusty bicycle, who read about sterilizing bandages and homemade salves and didn’t care about the blood?” He looks wary. “Show me. Please?”

  He holds his left hand out unsteadily. The back and side of it are sleek with pink flesh, the scars a little shiny, not fully healed. He has such lovely hands, firm and strong. They could never be ugly, even now that they’re imperfect. I smooth my fingers over the burned skin, then bring his hand up to my lips and kiss it. “It must have hurt,” I say, meeting his eyes. “But you’ve always planned to collect scars, Tam.” I watch his face until he finally smiles.

  “Well. You’re perfect,” he says, “so I’ll take the cuts and bruises for both of
us.” I glance down again at his marred hand. He isn’t the only one whose skin tells a story.

  He’ll have to see eventually. “You know, I’ve got scars of my own,” I say unsteadily. Can he hear my voice trembling?

  “Let’s get out of here,” he suggests, oblivious to the story I’m trying to tell. He starts down the corridor, looking over his shoulder at me. “What did you mean about not coming alone? Did you bring friends here with you?”

  “I did,” I say, smiling despite myself as we leave the fortress and make our way down the hill.

  “Anyone I know?”

  “No. New friends.”

  “Do you think they’ll mind if I share their supper? I don’t really want to go all the way back to the barracks.”

  “Of course not,” I say, imagining showing Tam off to the other girls. But with my next step, panic hits. He’ll ask how we met, or what brought them here. I told them I was going to tell him about Curram. “Actually,” I say, grabbing his arm, “let’s not find them yet. One of the girls is in a pretty bad mood; I wouldn’t want to bother them.”

  He looks deflated. “All right,” he says, clearly disappointed. “Do you want me to go? If you’d rather I didn’t come with you or something.”

  “No, it isn’t that. Maybe we could go somewhere to talk on our own first?”

  He nods. “I’ve got somewhere to show you anyway,” he says. His grin makes my stomach clench with nerves. He takes my hand and pulls me after him in the near dark. We weave between the trees where they’re dense until finally Tam stops, and the moon is straight ahead of us, glowing white and sitting just above the ocean horizon.

  We’re right at the cliffs. The air tastes clearer here, and the wind feels stronger, taunting me with a fall to my death in the icy water a hundred feet below. Tam lets go of my hand, jogging out onto the rocks until he’s only a foot or so from the horrible drop, lit up in silver, moonlit clarity. “Tam,” I start.

  “I know you don’t want to come out here, don’t worry. I just wanted to see the view.” His words sound like a challenge, and something besides nervousness stirs in me. Before he can finish saying that he’s been wanting to come out here at night, I run nimbly across the cliff to him, stopping only a few steps before the edge, putting my hands proudly on my hips to hide their shaking. Tam’s mouth drops open in surprise, while my heart pounds against my ribs.

  Next to me, the cliff cuts off and the drop is straight and terrifying, dark and unsurvivable. The crash of every salty wave echoes against the rock face. I feel unsteady even with my feet spread wide, like I’m already starting to fall, or like the ground is moving out from under me.

  But it’s worth it for Tam’s look of amazement.

  It’s hard to tell now if the dizziness comes from the drop or from the fact that he is looking at me and only me, and smiling like that.

  It’s a few seconds before he clears his throat, breaking eye contact. “Should we sit? Less chance of falling that way, you know?” He’s trying to be funny, but I’m still too shaky to laugh. We walk a couple of steps away from the edge, to a place where the rocks flatten out and moss makes the ground softer.

  The stars are out in their full splendor. I curl my fingers into an O and stretch my hand out, trying to count the twinkling dots of light that fit inside the O, but there are too many even then. “The city has nothing on this,” Tam breathes, and I catch a hint of the same wistfulness that always clung to his words back home. At least the army hasn’t stamped that out of him, I think, and I’m glad. I nod, moving closer to him and watching his movements in case he doesn’t like it.

  “Show me a constellation,” I prompt, setting him up.

  He laughs quietly. “I know one this time,” he says, sitting up straighter. “It’s a tiger, right? That clump there, where four stars are bunched together and then there’s that one that looks like it could be a tail.”

  “That’s not the tiger at all. She’s right there.” I point in a different direction and he sighs.

  “But isn’t that something? It’s not a camel or something? Or a hero?” I shake my head, trying not to laugh at him. “I don’t know how you can keep them all apart in your head.”

  “Books,” I chirp, moving another inch closer.

  “I’ll just let you be the astronomer, then,” Tam says with another sigh, before wrapping one arm around me.

  I don’t speak. I hardly breathe. A small part of me wishes that he’d never kissed me that day, because it’s so much harder to be relaxed with him now. I always knew I loved him, but it didn’t matter. Now I’m second-guessing every move he makes, every word spoken in my direction.

  We watch the stars in silence for a while. The moon rises slowly, turning the ocean silver and giving us enough light to see each other. I like watching the moon’s wobbly reflection stretch toward us without ever getting anywhere. More than that, I like sitting at Tam’s side, with his arm around me, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest with every breath, and letting his warmth lull me into drowsy thought.

  Maybe, I think, this is the moment to be vulnerable and tell him. Or it could be a terribly important moment that I shouldn’t ruin. I’ll wait, I decide. Just for now.

  “I might be leaving again,” he says quietly, making me start. “If they’ll let me, I mean. Harlen told the men to be ready; they’re going to move on Verity soon. Could be any day.”

  “Oh.” The information hits me like a sucker punch. “What do you mean ‘if they’ll let me’? Because of your leg?” He nods.

  “I don’t know why it’s such an issue,” he goes on, while I try to persuade myself to cheer him on. “Most of the combat will be within the city, at close quarters, sneaking around and the like. It’s only with those damn formations I have trouble keeping up.” There’s a long moment of silence. “Anyway, they’re trying to pull me out for a while. I didn’t join the rebellion to sit around and do nothing.”

  I don’t know what he wants me to say to this. It’s like we’re back on my rooftop again and he’s full of an idea for an adventure that will take him away from me. But this time there’s a part of me that understands the pull. I can hardly hate that he’s found a cause to care about, an evil he wants to fight. For the first time I know what that feels like.

  “Maybe I’ll come with you,” I say, but my head echoes with all the promises I’ve already made. I need to bring Curram to justice. I need to help Des find Lillian.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Tam says. And then, “Can you believe that somehow, in this great, big, confusing world, we found each other again?” I don’t answer. I don’t know how to. Instead, I close my eyes and hold on to his words as tightly as I can, wishing the moment would last forever.

  For the first time since I woke in that hot, filthy train car, I think I could forget what happened to me. Bundled up in Tam’s coat, with the stars above me and Tam at my side, I could almost convince myself that none of it ever happened, that it was nothing more than a nightmare. I could almost be all right.

  * * *

  When I wake, my feet are cold and I’m vaguely aware that someone is calling my name. I turn a little, attempting to burrow deeper into the warmth, and suddenly I remember where I am: still on the cliff, curled up on my side, with Tam’s arm under my head like a pillow. I twist about so I’m facing him—the sky is pale pink with dawn—and he’s already awake, watching me.

  He must have been cold all night, I think, feeling guilty for wearing his coat.

  Tam smiles with one side of his mouth. “I didn’t want to move you once you fell asleep,” he says, his voice just a whisper, as if there’s someone else whom he might wake. I don’t want to say anything. I just want to keep the moment frozen.

  But someone was calling me. I sit up slowly, hoping I didn’t crush Tam’s arm, and he scrambles to his feet.

  He offers me his hand, and I give him my unbranded one to pull me upright. The ocean, stretching endlessly away from us, is draped in thick, chilly fog. I push
the hair out of my eyes, only to find it’s damp with dew. I probably look terrible.

  “Isla!” comes the voice again, and this time I recognize it: Des.

  I look around and see him standing against a tree—no, gripping it for support. What does he think he’s doing?

  “Who’s that?” Tam asks, squinting at him.

  “A friend,” I say, taking a step toward Des. Tam moves to follow and I put out a hand to stop him. “I should talk to him alone; I forgot we have a meeting this morning at the fortress.” Tam looks surprised, and his gaze flicks back to Des.

  “I guess I should be getting back anyway,” Tam says. “They’ll miss me soon, and since they’re already trying to say I’m not fit for duty, I’d rather they didn’t have a reason to get on my back, you know?” He throws one last glance at Des, who is watching us innocently. “I’ll find you later, all right?”

  “Yeah,” I say, smiling briefly. “I’ve got to go.” I jog toward Des, feeling my anger mounting. “What are you thinking?” I demand when I reach him. “You are not strong enough to be here, like this. Did you walk all the way over on your own?”

  “So that’s Tam?” He peers around me, and I snap my fingers in his face.

  “Hey,” I say, slipping one arm around Des’s back and urging him in the direction of camp. “Don’t be stupid, all right? You probably shouldn’t even be walking.”

  He looks very serious all of a sudden. “I’m fine, Isla. Whatever happens up there in that fortress, I intend to be a part of it. Lillian’s fate is tied to Curram’s, remember?” He stops, tipping his head to the side slightly. “Now that you found Tam, will you forget all about me and our adventure? Will you still help me find her?”

  “Of course.”

  “Which part were you answering?”

  “Figure it out,” I say, smirking.

  “I never heard you come to bed last night,” Phoebe says, appearing in front of us.