Vanguard

by Ann Aguirre

  “In all likelihood, you would be dead as well,” he said softly.

  “That might be better.” With her defenses down, the truth slipped out, raw and awful.

  She immediately tried to recoil, but his ears were too good and, as ever, he had his attention focused on her completely. Szarok eased her back and gazed into her face with the fiercest eyes she’d ever seen. He gave her a little shake.

  “Why? Why would you ever say such a thing? Does your life mean so little to you?”

  “You don’t know what I had to do to hang on to it.” Like vomit, she couldn’t keep the words down, what she’d sworn never to speak of again. Nobody could understand if they hadn’t lived it. There would only be disgust or horror or pity or some combination of the three, and if she saw that in his face—

  I can’t.

  “Tell me.” At that, she wrenched away, fully intending to throw herself into the sea, swim out so far that he couldn’t follow. “Please.”

  The please moved her when all the orders, demands, and force could not. Tegan stumbled a few steps into the water, and she didn’t look at him. He didn’t follow, yet his caution registered as care, as it always had. Never once had he taken from her; he only made her want to give.

  This time proved no exception.

  Halting at first, and then as her words unleashed, she told him. How it was being taken, what she did to survive, the submission that made her scream endlessly inside her head rather than end up with a bloody smile carved into her throat, as happened to girls the Wolves deemed too much trouble. They treated me like a thing; they used me. It didn’t matter what I wanted. They didn’t usually hurt breeders, as they needed more warriors. So she said that aloud, and everything else, including how she’d hated the monsters they put inside her and how she provoked her captors just enough.

  Just enough to lose them. So I didn’t have to bring more of them into the world.

  She was sobbing now, her voice ragged. “I am not kind. I am not sweet. I am not forgiving. I am so glad that your people rolled through and cleansed Gotham like a fire. I hope they all died in agony, every Wolf, every cub. But … this is not what I’ve shown everyone else. They wouldn’t understand. I’ve been afraid for so long, and I say whatever people want to hear, the version of reality that will move them and make them want to help me. Sometimes they even act like it’s my fault.”

  She remembered Deuce saying, I would have fought until I died. Like that was better. As if there was something wrong with surviving. A fresh wave of anger rocked through her. I’m not sorry I broke her nose. When Deuce took so long coming back to Soldier’s Pond and worried her foster mother, Tegan got to hit her while pretending all that anger stemmed from concern. She told Szarok that, too, and ended her rant with a ferocious scream. She keened until her voice gave.

  There. It’s all out.

  Afterward, Tegan buried her face in her hands. There was no sense of relief, only emptiness where all the poison had been. Residual nausea rolled through her in waves, and she hunched over, racked with dry heaves. The crunch of his feet on the sand whispered that he was close by, but he didn’t touch her.

  “You were right,” he said.

  “About what?” She swiped tears and snot from her face, wishing she could wash.

  “Terrible things shaped you. I could say that I yearn to disembowel those who hurt you, but those kills rightfully belong to you. I’m sorry my people stole them.” With a sigh, he shook his head. “Humans are remarkably stupid. It is best to kill an enemy outright, for if you torture them, they will return when they are stronger.”

  His reaction shocked her enough that she turned to look. Szarok evinced none of the emotional response she’d dreaded, no sympathy or even particular shock. She’d gotten better at reading him, so while he was clearly angry, this didn’t seem to have changed anything. Her fists uncurled, and she took a deep breath as her sour stomach settled somewhat.

  “That’s it?” she said.

  “Is there more?”

  “I don’t know. I thought…” That you’d react like a human.

  “What? I can praise your great strength, if you wish. You are a queen, my Tegan. When you alone remain after your enemies fall, it only matters that you emerged victorious.”

  “I did,” she whispered, tears starting again. “I waited. I watched for my opportunity, and I took it. In the end, I vanquished them.”

  “Not all battles are won with teeth and claws. Your wit is your greatest weapon.”

  In the end, she didn’t ask if her confession altered the way he saw her. That question would insult both of them. When he took a step toward her, she ran two and fell into his arms. He rubbed his cheek against hers, the top of her head, the side of her throat, and the curve of her shoulder. Now that she understood what he was doing, it meant more; and she grasped the subtext. You’re still mine, he said silently. Still the closest of my kin.

  Stretching up, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. This belonged to the two of them alone, all sweetness and … learning. A long while later she eventually taught him those breath exercises, but it was more fun to do it mouth to mouth instead of in the water. He participated with enthusiasm, until they were both shivering with cold and excitement. Once he conquered his fear, Szarok progressed faster in the water than she did in language lessons. They curled up by the fire, and she tried her best, as it delighted him whenever she perfected a new phrase. Her more impressive failures earned sharp barks of laughter.

  As the light faded, he rose.

  “Hunting?” she asked.

  He rested a hand briefly atop her head. “As I must, if we want to eat.”

  “Be careful.” It was only a sliver of what she wanted to say, but it sufficed.

  * * *

  At nightfall, she tinkered with the crank-light and the glass shards. It wasn’t far from the signal tower to the shore, so Tegan picked a path down the incline. No snow tonight—the sky was clear, a good night to be sailing. Mentally crossing her fingers, she flashed a signal repeatedly against the dark sky. For a ship to spot them, it would need to be passing at the right moment, and then it might not bother investigating. Eventually she gave up and headed home.

  There was a little leftover seabird meat from the day before, and she grimaced at the congealed fat. The gamy taste didn’t improve upon sitting, either. She also had part of a potato and a mouthful of seaweed. Long term, this diet couldn’t sustain her, though she suspected fresh meat would do for Szarok. But the goats were getting harder to find, even for him, and the foxes were both nasty tasting and lousy with sinew and gristle. Tegan tried not to obsess over the challenges they faced with winter on the way, but her brain didn’t easily relinquish worry.

  Hours later she was bundled in bed when the door eased open. Even in the dim light, she recognized his silhouette. Besides, who else would it be? “Good hunting? Did you eat?”

  Pausing, he seemed surprised that she was still awake. “Yes. I tied the birds up where the foxes can’t get them. The cold will keep them fresh longer.”

  His tone alerted Tegan that something was wrong. “What happened?”

  Without answering, he closed the door behind him and crossed to the stove. His movements in stoking the fire spoke of leashed frustration. Each jab threw sparks, highlighting his sharp features. When she considered how important he’d become, her stomach tightened at the idea that he couldn’t talk to her, especially since he held the keys to her soul.

  I told him everything. But he can’t?

  “Szarok…?” It felt much later than usual, as if she’d waited halfway into the night, but it was harder to keep time in the dark.

  “It feels like I scoured every inch of the island. I was looking for anything we could use to build…” He didn’t finish the sentence.

  “A boat?”

  “Yes. But I don’t know anything about their design, and even if I did, there isn’t enough wood available.”

  Tegan nodded. There w
ere no tall, solid trees, only stunted ones, reeds, grass, and scrub bushes. “You’re worried about what’s happening to your people.”

  This wasn’t a new concern, but it must come at him in waves, as anxiety did.

  “Even if we get back, I haven’t accomplished anything, though I learned everything I could about human customs. I’ve bitten my tongue, ignored slights that—” He bit off the last words, whatever they were.

  “What can I do?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered.

  Ignoring that denial as if it were a wall she could scale, Tegan left the bed and knelt behind him. When she flattened a palm on his back, he shivered. Since he didn’t shake off her touch, she slipped her arms around him from behind and rested her cheek on his shoulder. He lowered his head and stared at the glowing embers in the stove. Just when she thought she should leave him be, he covered her hands with his. She didn’t offer platitudes, and in a few moments he shifted so they could warm each other.

  “Come to bed. Anything you have to say, I’ll listen. But you’re freezing. I know you’re not a fool, so why were you wandering the night like you are?”

  His expression brightened. “It’s strange how happy I feel when you scold me.”

  Snuggling close to him, she pulled the furs around them. “I can do it more. Or you can talk to me. It’s your turn anyway.”

  Szarok rested his head on her chest, making her feel … needed, as if in this moment she was the strong one. Tegan smiled at the top of his head, savoring that sensation.

  “If life were a little easier here, I could just … stay. And not mind my people suffering. I hate that I forget sometimes; then it’s even worse when I remember. That I’m happy with you.”

  “Because I’m the enemy?”

  “Not mine. Never mine. But … in a way, yes.”

  “It makes sense. And”—she swallowed hard—“I’ll never ask you to choose. I know you have an important job to do and—”

  He touched her lips gently to still them. “Are you telling me what I want to hear? I don’t care if you lie to everyone else in the world. Never to me. Understand?”

  “Yes. And I’m not. From now until forever I’m saving all my truths for you.”

  Shifting slightly, he encircled her in his arms; the most reassuring sound in the world must be the thump of his heart. Tegan raised her face and kissed his chin, just as she had accidentally the day by the well. Probably it shouldn’t make her so happy that the Uroch didn’t use their mouths for kissing, but she never had, either, so for both of them, it seemed brand-new.

  Normally she didn’t touch him much before they slept. Though she trusted him, she could be skittish, and it seemed better to avoid misunderstandings. But tonight … everything seemed rather different, partly her prior confession and partially his vulnerability. She couldn’t pin down the change, but … she couldn’t sleep, either.

  “You’re breathing so fast,” he whispered.

  Tegan had no idea what to say. She closed her eyes; better to pretend this conversation wasn’t happening. Then he kissed her chin with such exquisite care that she shivered. She meant to say something sweet, but only “I’m not scared” came out.

  “Good. Try to sleep.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” He sounded a little drowsy, a sign that he didn’t share her restless energy, and … she wanted him to.

  Even if that was unfair.

  “I want a good-night kiss.”

  “Is that a custom you wish to teach me?” Szarok levered up on an elbow, eyes gleaming in the dark.

  “If you care to learn.”

  “Yes.”

  That was her new favorite word, the beautiful simplicity of it. He rolled onto his side, facing her instead of holding her close. Tegan leaned in and brushed her lips against his, a soft little tease, when she needed more. But kissing was safe. It only ever felt good.

  “That’s it?” he asked, just as she had earlier.

  “Did you want more?”

  In response, he took her mouth and sucked on each lip in turn. She made the more sound deep in her throat, and his claws grazed her head, shoulders, spine. Never anything else, but tonight, she ached at his restraint. Tegan went after his tongue, unable to resist pressing closer.

  “I don’t think these good-night kisses are meant to make me sleep.”

  Maybe not.

  “Sorry.”

  While she wanted more, she didn’t know how to ask, or even what. She kissed him behind the ear and then tried to settle down. What were we talking about?

  Oh.

  Eventually she said, “I wish I could solve being stranded. But the only thing I can do is keep signaling.”

  At that, he kissed the top of her head as low-grade shivers curled through him. “You saved me. I don’t want you to feel guilty.”

  “That’s incidental. And you saved me, too. So … let’s stop keeping score. If we’re truly partners, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

  Unholy Alliances

  “Here,” Szarok said.

  He had been secretive for the last few days, returning to the tower later than usual. And now Tegan had the answer why. He’d carved her a new staff, possibly because she’d mentioned missing the old one. She hefted it and found it perfect for her height.

  “Thank you.”

  “I made it out of the wood that you used to save our lives.”

  Her eyes widened. “You must’ve scoured the shoreline for ages.”

  “It was worth it if you’re pleased.”

  Stretching up, she kissed him just below his ear. “I’ll do my utmost never to lose it.”

  That gave her a pang, as she’d left her doctor’s bag behind and in it, Dr. Wilson’s precious anatomy book. It’s probably still on the Catalina. But it felt strange to be separated from the medicines she had made her life’s work and the tome that represented the power she’d accumulated through sheer stubborn effort, reading and memorizing late into the night. People respected her now because she could treat their sickness and patch up their wounds, but she wouldn’t be satisfied until she lived up to the old man’s expectations. That grumpy scientist had taken one look at her and decided she had great potential.

  It was the first time Tegan had believed that she did, too.

  “I’m going, then.”

  “Good hunting,” she said.

  They parted ways, and she headed down to the shore with the crank-light and a shard of glass. She thought the two together should reach farther, but it wasn’t as if she’d tested the theory with what Dr. Wilson would call good science. For the past three nights she had signaled at regular intervals to be sure her flashes didn’t get mistaken for natural phenomena. She carried on until her hands went numb from the cold and winding the light. Just before she gave up for the night, brightness flickered in response. Szarok was hunting—she didn’t know where precisely—so she shouted, hoping the wind carried the sound to his sharp ears.

  At first against the backdrop of darkness, it seemed as if a ghost light were drifting toward the shore, and then the shape of a small schooner clarified. Definitely not the Catalina. While the shallows might be possible for a ship this size, navigating the shoals would be dangerous. It looked like they had dropped anchor, so Tegan resumed signaling. An indistinct call echoed across the water, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She yelled again, both for Szarok and for the boat she’d attracted.

  It’s probably the last before the big ice.

  The light rocked closer, and she identified two men rowing toward shore. Impossible to tell anything about them, but she set down the crank-light and the shard of glass to grip her staff with both hands. Moments later the rescuers hauled the dinghy onto the stony beach. Each scrape of wood on sand rubbed her nerves raw. In Tegan’s experience, everyone was a potential enemy until they proved otherwise.

  “Ho there, castaway!” came the call as the larger man climbed out.

  “Looking for a lift?” the
other asked.

  She nodded. “Wherever you’re headed, any port will do.”

  “How long have you been here on your own, a little thing like you?” The sailor phrased it like a question, but it wasn’t. Not really.

  He ambled toward her, and the moon illuminated deep-set eyes and a hooked nose. They were both bundled against the cold, bulky with layers. Stop, she thought. Don’t come any closer. The silent warning worked, or at least it seemed to, as the smaller one raised his head and inhaled sharply and then made a face.

  “This place reeks. How do you stand it?”

  “It’s the seabirds. There are thousands of them, nesting.”

  The two men exchanged a look and then the bigger one said, “Well, time’s wasting. Come along. We’ll take good care of you.”

  “My friend will be along shortly,” she said.

  Her flesh crawled at the idea of climbing into a boat with these two, but the alternative was impossible. If she sent them away out of fear and the Uroch went to war, she could never face Szarok. It doesn’t matter if they’re awful. I can protect myself. Her grip tightened on the staff, and the smaller one appeared to notice. He nudged his companion.

  “Even better.” The tall one put on a smile that only made his face worse.

  Soon Szarok came racing down the hill toward them. Since he hunted in his skin, he didn’t have on much, despite the cold, and the cool starlight limned his features. The moment they identified him, the men drew weapons, one a firearm and the other a knife. Tegan ran to Szarok’s side and held up a hand.

  “There’s no need. He’s the vanguard, sent from the Uroch to human lands.”

  “I don’t care what the hell he is. That thing’s not getting on our ship.” The big man spat to emphasize his point.