We spent the next week or so getting ready for the dance, a set of preparations that bored most of the kids, though they still had the circus and the attendant attractions – the sideshow, a fortuneteller, and a set of carnival games. Isabella, to my surprise, was looking forward to it; she hadn't yet turned boy-crazy, a state Kat was eagerly anticipating in her, and she disdained all things girly, but she wasn't deterred even by my announcement that she'd have to wear a dress. Also to my surprise, it was a lot of fun, though we'd underestimated both the numbers we could expect and how many would fit, and the party had spilled outside in all directions. It was nice, for me at least, to see all the people that I knew lived here. Many I hadn't seen since I registered their claims, but to my delight, I found that I knew all of them at least by surname, and many by first name, though it helped that half the men were named John.
There was really not as much dancing as there was drinking, yelling, and eating, although there was enough to justify putting down the barn doors for a dance floor. I took advantage of it; for some reason, I found it all exhilarating, but especially the dancing. Kat reported to me, gleefully, that Locke hadn't seemed too happy when I danced with Mr. Collier. I elbowed her in the side and made Duane drag her out on the dance floor again, which seemed to make her happy enough to leave me alone on the subject.
The kids had mostly elected to stay outside, but I spotted Isabella standing off by the hay bales with Elisabeth Luther's younger brother Jesse. There was quite a bit of space between them, and they didn't seem to be talking much – mostly, they seemed to be looking at their feet – but it was pretty clear that they were not-talking together. Suspecting I might regret it, I went over and suggested they dance too, as long as they were inside.
The both turned red. "Mom!" Isabella hissed.
"Um," he said, and her head whipped around, some happier expression dawning on her face. Though of course she ducked her head and hid it behind her hair.
"Um," she replied. I hastened away, grinning to myself, and bumped straight into Locke's chest, banging my nose up a little. He steadied me by both shoulders, then touched my face cautiously to check for damage while I did the same. Our fingers kept brushing. I seemed to be unharmed.
"Can we get outside and talk?" he asked, half-shouting over the noise, and I nodded.
He guided me out, steering me around obstacles with a hand on my waist or an arm around my shoulders, and glaring a bit overprotectively at John Harlow when he nearly stepped on me, even as the guy said "Sorry, Miz Branford." Out in the cool night air, I felt my head clear. I'd only had a cup of the applejack, but inside I'd been giddy and halfway dizzy.
Locke was looking around. "Still a lot of people here," he said.
"Well, it's a big dance, you know, we've all got a lot to celebrate... The two of us most of all," I added. He grinned, and impulsively, I hugged him. I heard snickering, and when I looked up over his shoulder I spotted Byram and Theo, crouched, for some reason, behind the empty farm cart. "What are you two doing?" I asked.
"Nothing!" Theo answered, too quickly. My eyes narrowed, and I let go of Locke, advanced on the two of them. They backed away. Theo's hands were behind his back.
"What've you got behind you?" Locke asked, before I could. He sounded amused.
"Uh...." Byram said, and Theo shot him a disgusted look, then shoved something into his hands and took off at a sprint. I got a look at what he was holding – fireworks, mostly firecrackers – before Byram took off too.
"If you two set yourselves on fire don't run crying to me!" I called after them. I would have given chase, but I knew full well I couldn't catch them in the slimmer-fitting skirt Kat had made just for this.
"That would have been better if you'd said something about their feet," Locke said, behind me. "Or legs."
"Oh, sure, you can laugh!"
"They know not to hold them when they're lit, right?" he asked, and I nodded, hoping they wouldn't decide to be brave about it. "Then they'll be okay," he said, and slid an arm around my waist. "Exploding sons aside, you having fun?"
I smiled, half-grudgingly, up at him, watched the answering crinkle of his eyes. "Yeah. It's great, isn't it? Seeing all these people happy, and seeing how well Mobliz is doing... I had no idea. I mean, I had an idea, but it doesn't really hit you till you see all of them in one place, you know?" Almost cautiously, I put my hand on his at my side.
"Yeah. Pretty big, isn't it?" he said, but he was just looking at me, not at the people.
"A lot bigger than it used to be. I'll have to do a census," I said, and he touched my face. My heart was thudding in my chest, and I remember thinking, You idiot, don't close your eyes, you'll look stupid, he might not be thinking that, and then he looked up and glanced around again.
"You don't want to leave, then?" he asked, and I blinked, confused. When had either of us said anything about me moving? Then I realized he just meant the party, realized what that might mean, and blinked several more times. "I just thought we could go back to your house—" he said, and that didn't help any. It wasn't a likely interpretation, but I didn't see what he was getting at. "I just want to sober up a little, talk to you without having the whole town waiting to thank you or dance with you or throw up on your shoes." Which Josiah Coates had almost managed, though I'd dodged at the last second.
"Well, that'd be okay," I said. He just thinks of you as a friend, that's all it is, don't think like that. Don't get wrought up over nothing, I told myself. "I'm going to go in and get something to eat – I don't want to really cook when I get back."
"I'll... Would you mind if I started back now? Walking might clear my head."
I had no problem with that, of course. He looked steady enough on his feet to me, but everyone handles things differently. I caught up with him out of sight of the dance; he'd been waiting by an apple tree. The first buds were beginning to show on the tree, a subject that I vaguely remembered had been cause for some alarm and much discussion among the men. "You okay?" I asked him.
"Oh. Yeah, just waiting. Didn't want to make you walk all the way back alone," he added, and we set off, falling almost into step for a moment or two. The back of his hand brushed mine, but that was probably an accident. The silence stayed companionable until we reached the house, at which point he started making idle small talk about the construction, Edgar, and the whole fight.
"It hardly even seems real now," I said, quietly, meaning the whole struggle, the life-or-death decisions and the fate of the world resting on our scarcely-qualified shoulders.
"This time a year ago I kissed you," he noted. I felt my entire face, neck, and ears heat up. At least he couldn't notice; between the moonlight and the lamplight from the window, I could make out his features, barely, but it was too dim for much more.
"Yeah," I choked out. "You did."
"Terra, I—" He turned to face me, and I found myself staring at my feet. Maybe Isabella could sweep in and tell the two of us to dance. "I have to apologize to you."
"I think you already did, Locke," I mumbled.
"Not about that! About—" He headed for the other end of the porch. "About the way I treated you all along. I shouldn't've— When I met you I'd just about given up hope for Rachel. I just... I started focusing on you so much, and you were really just a kid. I mean, weren't you?"
"I guess I was," I said, more a sigh than speech. I sat down on the porch steps, arms around my knees. A moment later he sat down next to me, the few inches of air between us as solid as a wall.
"And I... caught onto that, sort of, after a while, and then I met Celes and I must have started flirting with her— I know I did afterwards. I was sort of—"
"Locke, you don't have to tell me everything," I said abruptly.
"I know that. I'm just saying... after we got to that lab in Vector, I realized I might be able to bring Rachel back, but I couldn't help wanting to spend time with you both, and I had to patch things up with Celes— I hadn't been fair to her, and that bothered me, and—"
"Locke, I understand, it's okay—" I said, pushing myself up off the step. He grabbed my hand, looked up at me for a moment.
"Listen," he said. "Please? Don't leave yet."
After a long moment, fully aware of his hand on my wrist but not at all aware of how long I'd been looking into his eyes, I nodded, barely perceptible. A moment later I sat down, but I had my arms wrapped tightly around my stomach, my knees drawn up a step, folded in towards myself.
"I didn't think she had any special feelings for me – I figured she still hated me, actually. She had a right. I figured I'd been a complete idiot when I was infatuated with her, and worse when I thought she'd betrayed us. And then, you know, the world ended." He was quiet for a long time. "I went to Kohlingen first thing," he said. "Then I tried Jidoor, heard I could find magicite for sale there, and instead I heard a rumor about the Phoenix. I asked around about everyone, but I went after the Phoenix first, and let me tell you, it's not easy getting through those mountains on foot."
I nodded, a little. "I wanted her back... It was like I started missing her worse than ever when I realized we could have magic and magic might do it. And I owed her," he said. "I kept her here for five, six years, so I owed it to her to bring her back all the way. I should have just let her rest in peace all along," he said, very softly.
"But you loved her!" I protested. What else could he have done?
"That's why. I should have realized I didn't have a hope in hell of bringing her back, so I should have just let go like normal people do. Let her soul rest. I kept her stuck for six years because I was selfish."
"What do you mean?" I asked. I'd heard about souls, but I drew a blank on the concept, other than they were supposed to be immortal. We hadn't had much time for lectures on theology along the way, or maybe no one had wanted to discuss it for some reason. And I welcomed a deferral from whatever purpose he had for this talk. It just felt ominous. I wasn't used to seeing him serious. Even after the Phoenix had failed he'd been trying to make jokes.
"A soul, it's the part of you that's supposed to last after you die. Dunno if I believe in it or not, but she always did."
"What about Espers? Do you think they had them?"
He hesitated, then nodded. "Strago thought so, I know. He thought the magicite was the part of their souls that was attached to their magic. I think that's about what I did with Rachel, got the old man to keep her soul attached here."
"How's that work?" I asked.
"I don't know, Terra. I'm just kinda making this up as I go along, but I like to believe it." I nodded, glum, clenched my arms tighter. My stomach hurt. I tried not to think about what he was going to say, tried to think about Espers, think how I'd managed to survive, how I'd been born in the first place. Anything.
"I was probably kind of a jerk to both of you. You and Celes, I mean. Her more than you, maybe. I'd sort of flirted with her earlier on, then I got all preoccupied, and after I joined back up, she was a lot friendlier, but I was keeping to myself... Couldn't seem to talk to her about Rachel. I just wasn't a very good friend. I mean, I talked to you, but barely. I don't know what you thought of me—"
"Locke—" I began, and stopped. What was I going to say? 'Go fall back in love with her, she likes you and she called dibs'? Or maybe he was still in love with her. Part of me was crying, It's not fair!, a complaint from the depths of childhood. I didn't even know what he was going to say. It sounded like he was leading up to 'I'm sorry, but I'm still not in love with you,' and I felt the stirrings of a preemptive humiliation at the thought that he needed to say so.
"What I'm trying to say is I had a long time with not a lot to do but think," he said. "This year, I mean. I've... I still feel guilty about what happened to Rachel. I'll probably always feel guilty about that, and miss her, and at first it hurt like hell that she was really gone, but it was easier to get used to it— I'd gotten used to not being with her, and... I sort of feel guilty that I did adjust to it so easy, but..." He trailed off, then sort of drew himself up, started over. "I don't know how to say this. I thought about you a lot. I missed you. I..." He cleared his throat. "I think maybe I missed you more than... anyone else."
I was staring at my knees, at the board and a half between my feet. I swallowed hard. I looked over at him. He was staring at his own hands, but when I moved my hair rustled against my blouse or something, and he looked up.
"I know that wasn't— I don't want to make it sound like— I mean—" He kept stopping, and he'd turned half toward me. He seemed to have focused on my shoulder, then his gaze slid up to my eyes, then down to my lips. He was leaning in, and I closed my eyes.
We were a little bit less awkward than we'd been a year ago, despite the same uncomfortable positioning. When we pulled apart, he brushed the hair off my face lightly and smiled hazily at me. "I don't know why you're still here," he said, and kissed me again. "I just admitted I'm a faithless, self-centered..."
"Locke, are you always going to be this weird when we kiss?" I asked, my voice rasping uncomfortably louder than his.
He looked taken aback, then he started laughing. "Gods," he gasped, after a moment. "You're right. I'm sorry. This just... I was just so nervous I couldn't even see straight, and... don't hold it against me?"
"I just think it'll get to be a bit of a production if we spend any time together at all..." I was trying to cover my own reaction with the jokes. My hands were trembling. I felt like all of me was trembling.
He chuckled. "That's—" He cleared his throat. "Actually, that's something else I needed to tell you." I looked at him nervously. "I have to leave tomorrow. I just got the letter from Hamley, he wants me to meet them there by the beginning of April. He's a brilliant man, but no concept of time, so if I'm going to make it within shouting distance of that I'd better get going tomorrow."
"You have to?" I felt like I was trying to keep my footing during turbulence. I'd left the mail to Kat today; she'd wanted a break from the baking for the dance. So it wasn't even as though I'd had any warning.
He nodded. "That's why I had to say this... I mean, do this, whatever, close enough... I wasn't really drunk, I just wanted to talk to you in private. Forgive me?"
I nodded, then rested my head cautiously against his shoulder. After a moment I felt his arm around my back. "This is just like last year," I said, and then I felt my smile fade and a plummeting sensation in my stomach, because I'd remembered him dancing with Celes, remembered the way she'd been almost laughing before the music stopped.
"Terra, what's wrong?" he asked. I'd drawn away unthinkingly, had my arms wrapped around myself again. I shook my head. "Tell me," he coaxed.
"It's nothing!" I sounded like a kid with a guilty secret. One who'd just swiped fireworks. "It's nothing, Locke," I repeated, more quietly.
"It's obviously not nothing."
"It's..." I shook my head. He might have guessed on his own Celes had some feelings for him, but he hadn't sounded like he had, and it wasn't my place to talk about it.
"Terra, don't just shut me out now," he said, pleading. I stayed looking fixedly at my knees while I listened to him stand up. He crouched in front of me, knees on the step below my feet. I gave up, looked him in the face, though my eyes kept sliding away from his.
"Is it about your memories?" he asked gently. "Your time with the Empire?" Both, I thought, but not in the way he meant. I shook my head again.
"Locke, really it's nothing, I'll..." What? I'll just forget this ever happened because I'm afraid it would hurt Celes but I'm too scared to actually ask her if it would?
"Are you... is there someone else?"
I stared at him in blank confusion for a second. "Of course not! Why on earth would..."
"Well, you know, it's been a full year, you're a beautiful woman, you've got a lot of single men here and widowed, and it's hard to run a farm without a wife. Maybe one of 'em started courting you... I mean, I didn't know, it was worth asking."
"They think I'm a freak of nature, Locke," I said, quietly, and was surprised to find a lump in my throat. Of all the ridiculous hurts to start crying over now.
"That is not true," he began, heatedly. This was a topic that'd come up before, several times, starting not long after I met him. It's hard not to notice the way people stare, and I know all they see about me is green. At first he'd tried actually telling me I was beautiful, but then he'd given up on that tack when it hadn't worked, or perhaps when he'd started having hope for Rachel again, and gone for flat denial. "Even if they did, which they don't because it's all in your head, who cares what they think?"
I shook my head again, not wanting to argue it with him. "And besides, the people here like you. Everyone wanted to dance with you. Some of them wanted to dance with you a lot." Okay, maybe Kat was right and he was jealous, I thought, since I'd danced with Martin twice. I couldn't help smiling a little through the layers of guilt, which seemed to give him a second wind. "Okay, so you're not engaged to this Mr. Collier, so what's left? If you just don't like me, you can, you know, you can just go ahead and say it now."
The way he looked at me – just in glances, as if afraid of what he'd see – I realized he really did think I might say that. I swallowed hard. "That's not it," I said, my voice at least strong enough to make that sound convincing, though I still sounded like I wanted to cry. I was supposed to add, "It's Celes," but I couldn't.
"Will you tell me sometime?" he asked, sounding slightly weary.
I nodded, tried to speak but found my voice came out in a squeak. I cleared my throat. "Of course I will," I said. "Just... give me some time." To think. To write to Celes. To try and get my thoughts straight, because right then they really did feel as if they were whirling or tumbling. "I'm sorry, Locke," I said, not sure he could know how much I meant it.
"Well, you've got your reasons, right?" he said, standing and brushing himself off. He held out a hand, then almost looked as though he regretted the gesture. I took it before he could pull it back, and he pulled me to my feet. I was on the step above him, so we were face to face. He looked away. "I'll see you before I leave tomorrow," he said, a bit stiffly. "If you don't mind."
"Locke, please," I said, and hated myself for the pleading tone, but just for a second because then he was kissing me again and that was all I could think about. Somehow my arms had gone around his neck, and he was holding me against him. He buried his face against my neck.
"You're the one who's mad at me, remember?" he said. "Not the other way round."
"That's not it," I protested, hoping he wouldn't take that opportunity to ask what it was, then.
"If you say so, love," he said, joking, and I tried to laugh to hide that that word had been like a bolt spell arcing through me. "As long as you promise to write to me this time, too."
"I promise," I said, trying not to think about anything else for now. It wouldn't do anyone any good yet.