Year 847
Captain Silas, Katrine decided, was an idiot.
The man in charge of mapping, Silas was small and wiry with a perpetual cigarette hanging from his lips and a wizened face that made him look ancient, despite being only a few years older than she was. Hard-drinking and obdurate, his harsh tone made most people unquestioningly believe whatever bullshit came falling out of his mouth, usually about routes and the locations of deserted villages. Though correct often enough to keep his position, Katrine found him utterly incompetent. Why didn't he listen to her suggestions when they were obviously more efficient? Besides, she was not entirely certain he knew the difference between right and left.
Luckily he'd led their small group to Uhr correctly, an empty village near the eastern edge of Wall Maria, one amongst many in an organized effort to rustle up clues about the whereabouts of the two Titans responsible for Shiganshina's ruin. Erwin was obsessed with finding them, his current theory surmising that they were hiding near the abandoned districts along Wall Maria. Katrine didn't buy it, but they were grasping at straws, and at least he had a theory. He never seemed disappointed when one didn't pan out.
Uhr looked the same as all the other deserted villages, but the residents had made the curious decision to paint all their houses the same shade of red. Yet another strange find to go on her list of things she'd never seen in Mitras, including a meadow of goldenrod and a pack of wolves. But it wasn't somewhere new, some shining brilliant place, and that was beginning to eat at her.
"Charlotte!" Katrine hissed, pointing to a trail snaking away from the village. "There's a coal mine a few kilometers south. It's supposed to go a hundred meters down! Who knows what could be hiding in there? Let's go see it." She did not quite believe that coal and diamond mines were different things. An undiscovered trove of sparkling gems must be waiting for her.
Charlotte wrinkled her nose. "Why would I want to do that?"
"Because those tunnels might lead somewhere interesting." There was never a hint of it in any book or map, but maybe a way out was under her nose this whole time.
"Sure, like another forest?" She tossed her red ponytail over her shoulder. "Count me out."
"Fine. I'm going, though. There's a shortcut that'll get me to Marni Castle before you."
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. "Captain Silas will yell at you. And it's dangerous to go alone."
Katrine snorted. "He's so hungover he won't notice. And I'll be fine." She refused to let fear of Titans prevent her from doing what she'd left Mitras to do. And besides, in such a small group, her chances of survival were only slightly better than on her own.
"If you say so," Charlotte said. "No stopping you anyway. But I'm not covering for you."
"Won't need it." Katrine eyed Silas, slouched and eyes shut against the afternoon sun, close to toppling off his horse. There were four others, new recruits that Katrine didn't recognize, ones too scared of Titans and focused on themselves to notice if someone vanished. Even if they did, they were equally as scared of Silas to tell him.
"Time to go," Silas shouted, much too loud. He twitched, surprised at the sound of his own voice, but galloped away without turning to see who followed.
"I'm off," she said. "See you."
Charlotte stuck out her tongue but followed Silas. Katrine turned her horse and bounded down the trail. It was summer now and the leaves hung off the trees like glossy emeralds, covering the sky and shooting prisms of light onto her jacket. The air was swollen with noise: birds calling, insects buzzing, the wind in her ears and hooves beating the ground. For the first time since they'd set out from Karanes her shoulders eased and she could finally breathe without her ribs constricting.
If Katrine could stay in the sunlight forever she would, even if it burned her skin and sent sweat dripping down her back. Currently, the faraway place in her daydreams was sunny and hot and filled with the scent of spices. Maybe the people there would be kinder since they drank up the light all day. Though, a place that only rained could work too; where would they put all that water? Anywhere would do, anywhere without walls. Mitras and the districts surrounding it were only cages that did better at keeping people cloistered and stifled than protecting them from Titans.
When she reached the coursing river cutting a gorge into the forest, she knew from studying the maps to follow it to the wide beaten path and find the Schwarz Mine a few kilometers away. There was a bridge downstream that crossed it a little further past the mine, which was a shortcut to Marni Castle, their destination. Silas's fear of water caused him to avoid it, though it would shave a few hours off their time. Moron, she thought, rolling her eyes.
Urging her horse, Katrine sped down the well-worn road and burst through an opening in the trees to find a great chasm scarring the earth, barely managing to stop in time before tumbling off the edge. She surveyed the area, panting hard. This must be it; the canyon was filled with steel-gray rocks and abandoned carts, with a shadowy opening in the crag face must have been the mine's entrance. Grinning, Katrine tied her horse to a tree and skidded down the slope. I found it, they're definitely hiding the way out down here, and I found it!
The jagged hole of the opening was dark and smelled faintly metallic; the air was markedly colder and Katrine shivered. Sunlight only reached a few meters ahead, and beyond that was a solid wall of black. She lit a flare stick from her pack to see inside, and though the light was swallowed by shadows she pressed onwards, one hand sweeping the air in front of her. Katrine only made it a few steps forward until her hand scraped a pile of rocks that reached the top of the tunnel. She raised the flare to see what was blocking her path, but it only cast unnatural shadows against the cave wall. Puzzled, she lodged one foot into the stones to climb higher and was only met with more. The roof must have collapsed, she realized as she jumped down, and all hope of finding a tunnel to somewhere vanished, replaced with overwhelming dejection. There are other mines, she reassured herself, but that did little to soothe her. She kicked at a pebble and groaned, her frustration echoing back at her.
Returning to the sunlight, Katrine turned back to the entrance and scowled. This was useless. She'd risked Silas's wrath just to find a caved-in mine. She gripped the flare and hurled it into the darkness, but when she walked away to retrieve her horse there was a loud popping noise and the distinct scent of smoke. Katrine jumped, alarmed, and saw a tiny flame at the entrance where she'd thrown the flare. Right, she remembered. Coal dust was highly flammable. That could have been much worse, and she shuddered.
Taking steady breaths, Katrine considered her options. There was no way she could remove all the boulders covering the tunnel, and there were no more entrances. Or, no obvious entrances. There could be one elsewhere, maybe beyond that hill of trees?
She raced up the slope to her horse, but just as she untied it a faint crash boomed to the north. A flock of birds shot toward the sky, agitated and crowing. Titans. Her time was cut short.
Hoisting herself up, Katrine tugged her reins and backtracked to the river, turning left to follow it to where the bridge was supposed to be. All she heard was the water torrenting below and the wind rushing past her; there were no more violent noises suggesting Titans. That was a good sign; with no foreseeable danger, she could just wait outside Marni Castle to slip back in with Silas's group like she'd been there all along. If the recruits questioned her, she'd blame it on their lack of sleep and tell them to pay better attention next time.
She scanned the horizon, waiting for the bridge to appear, but yanked her horse back when she found one wooden post jutting askew out the ground with nothing attached but a frayed rope. That and the few splintered boards hanging on the other side of the ravine were the only hints a bridge had ever been there, the water beneath churning ominously.
Shit, Katrine thought as she gritted her teeth. This was bad. Now she'd have to double back to where she'd started and then make it to Marni Castle. Even if she rode at breakneck speed, there was no way she'd get back before Silas's group. Laps weren't going to cover this. The higher-ups were going to murder her. Shit, shit, shit!
Katrine jabbed her toe into the horse's flank and started back, preparing her excuse. Silas had a tendency to set off without checking to see who followed; it was plausible that she could have been off answering nature's call and missed him. She could also claim that she lost her way trying to find a shortcut back, but that was less realistic. Now she regretted bragging to Sara and Charlotte that she could find her way anywhere while Silas would get lost up his own asshole.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky turned a garish shade of orange, she arrived at the castle, heaving. In the yard, Miche appeared to be rebuking Silas, face stormy and jabbing an angry finger at his chest. Silas yelled back, flailing hysterically. There were scratches on his arms and stark red stains on his pants.
"They were following it, and that thing just pointed and smiled! Up in a damn tree!" Silas choked on his own words.
"But it didn't kill you?" Miche sounded doubtful.
Turning at the sound of her horse, Silas jerked upright and lunged at Katrine faster than she'd ever seen him move. "Where the hell were you?" he screeched, bloodshot eyes bulging, too red and puffy for just alcohol. He perched on his toes, ready to strangle her, so she stayed on her horse.
"Me? Where the hell did you go? I go relieve myself and when I get back you all vanished!" She tried to sound offended, hopefully believable. "I'm lucky I got back alive! Where's Charlotte?"
"Dead! They're all dead!"
The reins slipped out of her hands. "What?"
"Dead, smashed to pieces right in front of me! Blood everywhere, red as that Titan's hair!" He pulled at his own hair, laughing mirthlessly.
Dumbstruck, Katrine's mouth dropped open and suddenly her fingers were icy. She'd only spoken to Charlotte hours ago, not even considering the possibility that this could happen, like an idiot. How did she not think of that? Horror overtook her shock.
"Casimir!" Miche strode toward them, fists clenched. His eyes, shaded by the prominent ridge of his brow, were black.
Katrine slid off her horse, retracing her steps, determining where she'd gone wrong. Did they stop at that village for too long? Could there have been any difference at all if she'd been with them? But how did Silas live, when everyone else was dead? Had he abandoned them, just to save himself?
"How...are you here?" Her throat constricted and a bitter taste flooded her mouth.
A flush crept up Silas's neck. "Someone needs to make it back alive! To relay the information!" Everything about him was red: his eyes, his face, those horrible gashes on his legs. An image of Charlotte, red hair loose and blood oozing out her neck, flashed across her eyes.
"But—"
"How did you not catch up?" Miche interrupted. His furious gaze darted between her and Silas.
"I got lost." The lie felt like iron in her throat and her own voice sounded foreign.
"You? Lost?" Silas scoffed, appalled. "The arrogant little girl who thinks she knows maps better than I do?"
A weak flash of anger spurted in her gut, but it was swallowed by guilt. How could she accuse Silas of abandoning them when she'd done the same thing herself? If she'd been there, Charlotte might be alive, or at least she wouldn't have died surrounded by strangers. And even those recruits whose names she'd never bothered to learn didn't deserve to die steeped in hopeless despair. Katrine had promised she'd make sure Charlotte would live, and the words came out of her mouth; now she was not only a liar but a selfish one at that.
"But I got lost," she said again, an incantation, like repeating it over and over would make it true.
Miche towered over her, his glare boring into her skull, and Katrine couldn't face him. She didn't want to see his disbelief. Instead, she stared at the ground and felt the questioning glances from other Scouts, turning her even colder.
"You. Stables. I want them spotless by morning." His hand shot out to point at them and Katrine flinched, prepared for a slap, though nothing came but his furious scowl and the familiar fear crystallizing in her spine. "If you get lazy on this I'll beat that contempt right out of you." She didn't doubt him.
Katrine straightened and saluted him, but it felt false even though she hadn't meant it to, and started briskly for the stables. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Miche drag Silas into the castle.
Stables were the kind of place Katrine purposely avoided, even taking longer routes to avoid, and only entered to retrieve her horse with her nose pinched. They smelled awful, and though she'd never admit it to anyone, the horses frightened her; they were huge and heavy and she tried not to jump out of her skin when one reared. But now she stood in the middle of it, cavernously empty, racking her brain for where to start. Muck stalls? Polish the bridles? Her eyes stung and a shuddering gasp threatened to burst from her mouth. The horses eyed her, distrustful, as if they knew what she'd done.
This was going to take forever. Dread sank into her shoulders, causing her to slouch and stare at the dusty floor. She was tired, so tired, and just wanted to find somewhere to curl up and berate herself for being the most horrible, irresponsible person that had ever existed. But she had to start. Worst first, she decided as she swiped at her eyes: mucking stalls. "Stop looking at me," she hissed at a horse that gave her a sad, disappointed look, and led it outside.
Whoever last cleaned these stalls had done an especially lackluster job. She could barely see the floor through the clumpy straw bedding and there were suspicious stains on the walls she did not want to investigate. The odor was so strong it felt like a malevolent presence, one that could suffocate her and drag her corpse into the hay. Gripping her pitchfork tighter, Katrine briefly considered stabbing herself with it, claiming a freak accident, but stopped. She could complete her penance. It was a small price to pay for Charlotte to die, much too small. Eyes watering and breath held, she jabbed the pitchfork into the soiled bedding and pressed down on it with her foot.
Once she finished that, the other tasks came easier. She beat out the blankets and got dust all over her, sending herself into a sneezing fit; climbed up into the corners to wipe them free of decades-old spiderwebs, yelping every time she saw a bug; and after cleaning the troughs, lugged buckets of fresh water to refill them. Eventually, the stables looked much better and probably smelled better too, though she'd grown accustomed to the stench.
But Katrine needed more to do. She couldn't stand still. When she stopped to rest or wipe the sweat from her forehead, she saw them. Charlotte sat on the fresh bedding, considering her with a blank expression, but Katrine's own voice echoed in her ears. I'll make sure you live, Charlotte. When she turned away she could see Engel standing by the bridles, certainly wondering why Katrine hadn't used her abilities to keep the others safe. Even Larissa leaned on the doorframe, reminding Katrine that she hadn't even tried to save her, claiming that it was impossible. She sighed; Silas was right. She certainly was arrogant and selfish.
Hands on her hips, Katrine surveyed the stables, wondering what to do next. The well-worn saddles could use to be wiped down, but how was she supposed to do that? She couldn't just dunk them in water. Someone must have gone over this in training and she should have paid attention. They probably needed some kind of brush, but something softer than the ones to scour the troughs, and that meant venturing outside to find one. She tapped her lips and groaned when her fingers came away with a smudge of red; it was probably flaking and she was glad that there were no mirrors for her to see how ragged she looked.
Katrine darted to the main compound in search of the correct brush, praying that no one was there to see her. It was still dark outside but the edge of the horizon was beginning to lighten. This was too early for most to be awake, but she only had a few hours left. She almost wanted more, enough time for her to accept what she'd done, but that might never happen. And the sun would rise no matter how she felt.
She found the kitchen where the cleaning supplies she rarely used were kept, but at the sight of him inspecting the brushes and twisting a rag in his hands, stopped in her tracks and ducked back behind the corner. Butterflies exploded into her stomach, not because she was scared of him, but because he would know. Levi wouldn't fall for her claims of getting lost. Katrine couldn't bear him thinking less of her. But why? She'd never cared much for others' opinions of her. Taking a few deep breaths, she readied her thoughts to appear in control.
Levi acted no differently toward her than before, but there was a subtle yet undeniable change. Katrine still avoided his chores and he still yelled at her when he caught her inside a closet or under a bed with a book, but there wasn't the same vitriol as there was with others. She thought he did it just to keep up airs. In return, she didn't question him when she found him polishing silverware or scrubbing pots at three in the morning.
Katrine noticed that they had something else in common besides their background: the inability to sleep at night. While she dozed off as the sun came up, sleeping in as long as she could and sneaking off for naps throughout the day, he never seemed to rest. He was always doing something, whether it be cleaning or running or developing plans with Erwin, like every moment of his life had to be used for a purpose. There were permanent shadows under his eyes, but he never stopped.
Though even if he did act slightly kinder toward her, what was he going to do now? Was her selfishness going to ruin this too? And what was it, anyway? Not a friendship by any means, but it was comforting in a peculiar way to know that they came from the same miserable place. It was like a secret no one else would ever know. Katrine might be able to trust him, which she'd never felt about any man before.
She took a deep breath, smoothing back her hair and dusting herself off. Only marginally prepared, she approached him, steps measured as to appear neither timid nor careless. He turned his head, expression flat like he wasn't surprised to see her there. He'd definitely been awake for hours, possibly all night.
"I have a question for you," Katrine said authoritatively like she was on an important errand for someone else. Asking on her own behalf felt awkward.
"What?" He wrinkled his nose a bit and she realized that she probably smelled awful. Refusing to falter, she pressed on.
"The saddles. They're dusty." There had to be at least twenty brushes hanging on the wall, ranging in size. The choices were bewildering.
He tilted his head toward them. "You've made it far. These are for cleaning," he said slowly like she was a moron.
"I'm aware," she retorted, hoping her cheeks wouldn't betray her. "Which do I use for them?"
"This." He tossed his rag at her and she just caught it in time before it fell.
"What do I do with it?" She pinched it between her fingers.
"Clean." His eyebrows raised a bit, almost like he was amused, and she tugged the rag between her hands.
"There must be an easier way."
"Not always. Should be conditioner back there, too."
Katrine swallowed back a groan. "Thanks." Tossing the rag over her shoulder, she turned and started back to the stables.
"Wait," he called out, and she stopped. "Don't use too much or you'll stain the leather."
"Right."
"And you're lucky you didn't die."
He could have said so much more, and she would have deserved every word. "I know."
Katrine jogged back to the stables, still fearful of anyone else seeing her, and started on the saddles. She found the conditioner he mentioned and worked on polishing them, but instead of thinking of Charlotte, she wondered if Levi never stopped to rest because he also saw the shadows of dead comrades. Was one of them Isabel?
Right as she hung up the last saddle and put away the conditioner, heavy footsteps echoed inside the stables. It was Miche, and when he caught sight of her disheveled appearance, he looked pleased. "Brought the expert," he said, jabbing a thumb behind him. Levi followed, stoic, as if he'd already decided his verdict. Katrine tensed, acutely aware there was a new rip in her jacket and tendrils of hair glued to her face from sweat. She felt unprepared, like Mr. Kaiser had dragged her onstage and demanded she dance the entire finale of The Crane Queen without one minute of practice.
Miche sniffed the air. "Less stale," he stated, smirking. "Can finally breathe in here, right, Levi?"
Levi walked into the first stall, and then after a minute turned sharply on his heel to inspect the next, unresponsive. Miche curled his lip and Katrine tried not to smile as he made his way through all sixteen of the stalls, giving the next the same level of scrutiny as the last. He then eyed every saddle, every bridle, even under the troughs which had been particularly grimy, and Katrine grew anxious that he would find some secret spot she'd overlooked and then he'd never look at her again.
Instead, he climbed on the countertop to check for dust on top of the cabinets. Katrine almost laughed out loud because she was so thankful she'd thought to get up there. Her eyes drifted to Miche, who gawked at Levi. He caught her gaze and shook his head, baffled.
Levi jumped down and brushed off where he'd stepped on the countertop, and made his way back to Miche and Katrine. For someone who didn't have much range in his facial expressions, the change was drastic; frowning, his brow was furrowed and he blinked a few times as if to clear away the fog from his eyes and find the stables filthy like he'd anticipated. She made sure to commit it to memory since she didn't think she'd ever see that look again.
Miche lifted his chin, expectant. "Well?"
"Not terrible," he said.
Relief flooded through her. Not praise, but also not negative.
"Not terrible?" Miche asked, stunned.
Levi turned to the back of the stables. "There's some rust on the smaller trough," he muttered, folding his arms. "But that's nitpicking."
Miche grunted. "Hear that, Casimir? Get the rust off next time."
Katrine willed her expression to remain neutral. "Yes, sir."
"Dismissed. Commander Erwin wants to see you."
"Now?" she asked, panic lacing her voice.
"Yes, now," he said, waving her away.
Katrine made her way to the castle, gnawing on her thumbnail. Was she going to be paraded in front of everyone today, dirtied and humbled? She was exhausted and didn't want to keep her guard up for another round of questions. After hauling herself up the stairs to Erwin's office, she took a deep breath before the solid wooden door and knocked twice. "Come in," he called out, and she opened the door.
Erwin sat in a meticulously organized office, but his desk was covered in paper, most with unreadable scrawls in black ink. Uninterested in the reports and his illegible handwriting, Katrine glanced at the large map. It was crisscrossed with lines and symbols that covered up what was originally there and implied that he was on the edge of a breakthrough and really shouldn't be wasting time speaking to her. His lines were very straight, she noticed.
"Katrine," he said, folding his papers and storing them away in a drawer. Even though she'd told him to call her that, she didn't think he actually would, and she felt childish every time he said it.
"Commander." She saluted him too and sat in the chair across from him when he indicated, twisting her fingers together. If he thought she smelled or looked half-dead, he made no indication.
Katrine didn't understand Erwin the first time she met him and was no closer to it now, two years later. She understood the rest of them, knew their tells, but Erwin had none besides his strange curiosity to know exactly everything about the Walls and what went on inside them. Why did he care when there must be better places, unless he had some voyeuristic streak? He was stony in a way that was similar to Levi (and she supposed that was why they got along so well), but while she'd seen flares of Levi's temper, there was no hint of anything but cold single-minded determination in Erwin. The only time she'd ever heard him yell was to give directions. But every man had a temper, she knew, and she needed to find what would make him crack.
"So, you got lost," he said, "but not so lost that you couldn't find your way back."
Katrine nodded. She tried to analyze his tone to determine if he knew she was lying, but it was too even.
"And since Silas had the maps, I assume you had none?"
She nodded again.
"If you'd followed the route Silas planned, you would most likely have encountered the Titans that attacked them. What route did you take instead?"
He's sharp. There was no outsmarting him here. "I was going to use a bridge over the river that I thought would be a shortcut," she said. "But it was broken."
"What else did you find?"
That was a strange question. Why would he ask that first instead of how she made it back safely? It was like he knew, and if she tried to lie it would be laughably obvious. "Um, the mine. Schwarz Mine."
"And I assume you knew where it was? You didn't just stumble upon it?"
"I knew. It's north-northeast to the bend in the river, half a kilometer away."
Erwin nodded and bent to open his desk drawer. He withdrew a blank sheet of paper and a pen and pushed them toward her. "Draw me everything outside of Karanes. Thirty-kilometer radius."
Katrine's eyes widened. "What?"
"If you know it so well, then you can draw it, can't you?"
She bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed. Though she could clearly see the current sets of maps in her head and even the outdated ones, was it wise to let Erwin know that? She could play dumb, though that could backfire. He'd probably see right through it and think she was hiding something. But, it seemed that Erwin already knew the answer to his question. He knew that she could draw them and was looking for confirmation. If she pretended she didn't, then what kind of punishment would he give?
She picked up the pen and considered the empty page. Briefly she looked up at Erwin, who steepled his fingers and studied her intently. His stare was intense and she dropped her gaze. Setting the pen to paper she started marking Karanes and the Wall, trying and failing to prevent her hand from quivering, and then the towns scattered around it and the rivers cutting through forests. As she marked the fallen bridge, she thought of Mr. Kaiser watching her dance, waiting for mistakes to correct. If she faltered, would Erwin lash out and strike her hand? The two of them looked nothing alike, but they had the same probing, analytical eyes.
Finished, Katrine pushed her drawing back, and Erwin removed a clean map from his desk. He compared them, and though she knew she was correct, he didn't appear impressed. Instead, he slipped another blank sheet in front of her. "Road between Trost and Shiganshina. Twenty kilometers on each side."
Katrine repeated the exercise. This was more demanding since the southern region was dotted with tiny villages, but she marked them all and made sure her scale was accurate. Though confident in her ability, her lines were still shaky and it was impossible to stop her knee from quaking. Mr. Kaiser constantly found minor errors to chastise. Was Erwin the same?
When she completed it and raised her head to hand it to him, Erwin was already prepared with another sheet of paper. "Northern section of Wall Maria and fifty kilometers beyond."
No one went up there; all the maps she'd studied focused on the southern regions. "I haven't seen that."
Undeterred, Erwin handed her his map. "How long will it take you to memorize this?"
"Five minutes, I guess."
"You'll get three."
"But that's not—"
"You're wasting time." His tone was not harsh, but stern enough to dissuade any arguments.
Katrine pressed her lips together and absorbed the map, eyes darting from towns to mountains to lakes. She was dying to know where he'd gotten this, and who'd dared explore that far north despite the howling winter storms and jagged mountains piercing the sky. Erwin tapped his watch, breaking her concentration, and she returned the map in exchange for another sheet of paper. As she replicated it, she weighed the possibilities of what he'd say if she asked who drew that map, but decided it would be best not to press her luck as she passed it back.
When Erwin compared this attempt, he finally reacted. He raised his eyebrows, but just a fraction. Good, or bad? "How did you do this?"
"Uh, it just sticks. In my head." She wanted to cringe at that terrible explanation, but there was no other way to describe her ability to recall anything written. Things really did just stick.
"I remember what you told me before," he said. "You wanted to find people outside the walls." Of course he remembered. "Why did you want to see that mine?"
Katrine shrugged. "Maybe the tunnel led somewhere. But it was caved in."
"Silas mentioned a Titan that sat in a tree with red hair. It seemed to have an ability to direct other Titans. Since you've seen it, do you think it's just an abnormal, or something else?"
Levi must have told him about that. But why did he care about what she thought? "Never saw the ones that attacked Shiganshina so I can't say."
Erwin nodded thoughtfully. "Sorry for taking up your time. You're dismissed."
Why was he apologizing? She was the one bothering him. Something was off about him, she concluded as she stood and saluted again, but right as she reached the door she decided to ask the question burning in the back of her mind. She deserved an answer after sitting through his bizarre exercise. "Where did you get the map for the northern section of Wall Maria? Who went up there?"
Erwin paused for a moment, reports already back in his hands. "These are from four years ago. Pretty outdated." Suddenly there was an odd glint in his eye. "Any particular interest in the north, Katrine?"
"No. Just wondering."
He nodded but it was clear he knew there was more to her question.
Katrine left and trudged down the stairs to the barracks, dead tired. It was finally time for a bath and hopefully sleep, but she wasn't sure if she'd really done enough to deserve it.
Sara was never one to dwell on death, which Katrine appreciated. If she died smashed to bits by a Titan or galloping off a cliff, Sara would mourn properly for a week by wearing red lipstick. Then, back to normal.
"I don't want you choking over me and wearing black for a year," Sara said. "That really wouldn't suit you." The two strolled through the market in Trost, enjoying the fair weather and a day off from formations and drills. The air was filled with the scent of cherry pies and the drone of passing conversations.
Katrine snorted. "Black washes me out. Anyway, that means you have to die before me." It had been a month since that day at the mine, the day Charlotte died, and though the other Scouts stopped giving her curious looks, she still thought of her often. She found that putting a better effort into training exercises and keeping a watchful eye over Sara helped dispel the guilt.
"Stop talking about that. Not worth it— Garrett!" Sara jumped in delight and bounded toward the tall sandy-haired Garrison soldier, clasping onto his bicep with a giant smile on her face. Katrine groaned. Not that those soldiers were ever rude to Sara, but she didn't want to stand around listening to them talk about...whatever it was they talked about. Most of the time they all gaped moonstruck at Sara and laughed at everything she said, punching each other in the arms for no reason.
Katrine wandered over and leaned against a fruit stand opposite them, pretending to be engrossed by apples. There were only two men: Garrett and a diminutive bald man with a drooping mustache whom Sara ignored, to his obvious torment. On these occasions, Katrine never joined them but stayed back and made sure nothing turned lecherous. Sara often blustered afterward, accusing her of being too intimidating and complaining that she scared the soldiers away. But it was also fascinating to watch Sara play her own kind of character on her own stage. Eyes drifting away for a moment toward the shopkeeper, Katrine waited until he spoke to another customer and snatched an apple from his cart.
"Glad to see you haven't gotten your head bitten off!"
"No, no, you'll jinx me!" Sara brought her hands lightly to her cheeks and Garrett glared at the bald soldier for saying something so offensive. Garrett had a sensitive, genial face, one that didn't hint at any lurking malevolence, but that meant nothing. He wrapped an arm around Sara's shoulders and she leaned into him; Katrine chomped into the apple, waiting for him to make the wrong move.
"You'd be safer with the Garrison," Garrett said. His hand dropped lower, toward the small of her back. Katrine swallowed her bite of the apple.
"But then I wouldn't get to see the giant forests and the mountains," Sara said, peering up at him through her lashes.
"But there are other things to see…" And then his hand was far too low and Katrine pounced.
"Get your hand off her!"
Garrett flinched, snapping his arm away, and Sara whirled, eyes narrowed to angry slits. "Ka-trine!" she hissed.
"Damn, what's your problem?" the other soldier asked, lip curled.
"My problem is his hand on her ass," Katrine spat.
"What's the big deal?" Garrett folded his arms. Sara looked crestfallen.
"Another Scout gone insane." The bald soldier brought his canteen to his lips and the sharp odor of alcohol hit her nose.
"Insane? I'm not the one lurking around waiting to screw anything that moves." Sara kicked her foot, but Katrine ignored her.
The bald soldier stepped forward. "If you're so interested, I think you could use a good screw."
That was it; without hesitation Katrine lobbed her apple at him. It missed him by a wide margin but smashed against the wall behind him and sent a spray of juice across the back of his head. Shocked, he dropped his canteen and the alcohol splashed onto Garrett.
"Agh! What the hell!" Garrett jumped back, disgusted.
An angry vein pulsed in the bald soldier's forehead. "I'm shoving that pretty little face of yours in the dirt!"
"Why do you always do this?" Sara whined.
The fruit seller's reedy voice rose above the din. "Miss, you forgot to pay!"
Katrine dug her nails into her thigh. She'd gone too far, again, and now the only option left was to flee. She took a step backward, and then another, until she hit something solid. A firm hand pushed her shoulder aside and she turned, startled.
"I can hear you from all the way down the street. Giving me a damn migraine," Levi said, pinching his temples with his thumb and forefinger. Katrine looked back to the soldiers, both relieved and embarrassed. He could save her, or he could turn around and berate her as well.
"Fuck off," the bald soldier said. "Don't go shoving your nose into things that aren't your business."
"Sure, Pixis's less successful and more alcoholic grandson has it all under control," Levi said. He was right on the mark; the man did look like a watered-down version of Pixis. How'd he think of that so quickly?
"He's right, get lost," Garrett said. "Besides, Pixis is his uncle." The bald man's mouth flapped open and shut like he hadn't settled on the right response.
Levi's gaze drifted to Katrine's, and though his expression was still neutral there was a colluding glint in his eyes. "This guy," he said to her, pointing at Garrett, "looks like he moans when he shits."
Garrett blanched, Sara gasped, and Katrine bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from cackling. She desperately wished she still had the apple so she could cover her mouth and do something with her hands and not look like she was thoroughly impressed. Then she saw the bald man's horrified look and wanted to laugh even harder.
"She threw a fucking apple at me!" he shrieked, nearly poking Katrine in the face with his finger. "Completely unwarranted, and you yell at us?"
"Didn't even hit you and you still got a concussion," Levi said.
He saw that? She silently cursed her poor aim.
Seeing that victory over Levi was impossible, the bald man shifted his ire to Katrine. "Learn how to be more ladylike. Spite looks ugly on you."
"Looks better than you ever will." She watched Levi from her peripheral to gauge his reaction, but he didn't move. For some inexplicable reason, she was disappointed.
"Damn Scouts. So uncivilized," the bald man said. Garrett nodded emphatically and Sara shook her head, frantic. "My uncle will hear about this."
"Blaming us won't make Uncle Pixis promote you," Levi said. "And the crumbs in your mustache won't help."
Out of the corner of her eye Kartine saw the soldier's hand immediately fly to his mouth, but she only stared at Levi, awestruck. He wasn't afraid of them, and probably wasn't afraid of anyone. They were going to slink away like kicked dogs and he hadn't even said anything remotely threatening. He wasn't going to change his demeanor for them, or her, and Katrine wished she too didn't have to strategize on how to appear to others to get them to do what she wanted. Also, his brutal vulgarity was incredible, and she would do anything to be able to say what he did without fear of retaliation. The Garrison soldiers could complain all they wanted, but none of them were going to test him.
When neither of the soldiers responded, Levi seemed satisfied with his victory and walked away without a second glance. Katrine darted after him; she didn't want to stick around for the fallout and knew no one would mess with her when she was next to him. The fruit seller called out again, but she pretended she didn't hear him.
"Wasn't my fault," she blurted, just so he knew. It was true, she was trying to protect Sara.
"Sure it wasn't. And you should pay that poor man."
"I already did."
He clicked his tongue, disappointed. "Terrible arm you've got. Wasn't even close."
"It got the job done."
Levi stopped in front of a small shop and Katrine looked inside the window. Tea tins sat aligned in neat rows inside, and she swallowed her smile.
"Planning on getting into any more fights? I've got more important things to do than save your sorry ass," he said.
"I was fine before you showed up," Katrine lied.
He scoffed. "Maybe you could use to get shoved in the dirt." With that he turned and opened the door, the shop bell ringing behind him.
Katrine tried to muster up some anger but she couldn't; instead, she remembered the Garrison soldiers' faces and snickered. Someone shook her shoulder and she turned to find Sara, eyes puffy and seething. "Do you know what I had to do to fix that?"
Katrine inhaled through her teeth. "Sorry." She started wandering aimlessly through the crowds, but Sara stomped after her.
"Garrett's never going to speak to me again!"
She threw up her hands. "I hope he doesn't, he's gross!"
"If I didn't know any better I'd say you have a thing for him."
Katrine halted. "What? No." She said it too loudly and too quickly and wanted to bite her tongue off.
"So you do!" Sara folded her arms, smug.
She shook her head and started walking again, trying to act rationally. "Why would I? Levi doesn't like me. He doesn't like anyone." It was true and perfectly logical.
"Doesn't matter. You were practically drooling back there. And I didn't even say his name before."
Her mouth dried. That was sly. "I just thought he was funny."
Sara gagged. "Funny? I thought your sense of humor was better than that."
"Whatever." She waved her away. "But, does he?"
"Does he what?"
"Moan when he shits." Katrine barely finished before giggling so hard she had to bend over, and Sara kicked her foot again.
Katrine now regularly attended training sessions instead of claiming to have important errands to run, and even dragged herself to the optional ones. As a result, she could do twenty push-ups without collapsing, but pull-ups still baffled her. It made no sense. If she could push herself up and down off the ground without stopping, then why couldn't she pull herself up? Her arms ached when she watched male soldiers do forty in a row, clambering over each other to prove they could outdo the last.
She eyed the metal bar that hung off the eave of the equipment shed in the training grounds, the humid night air sending sweat trailing down her back. It stared back innocently at her, moonlight dully reflecting off it like it too had no idea why she couldn't do it. She wasn't going to risk anyone seeing her, not like in the training corps when Instructor Shadis had asked in front of everyone if she'd had noodles for arms. Though that and her pitifully low score for physical ability on the final examination had been humiliating, she'd figured she was fast enough and hadn't thought to change it until Charlotte died. Now she knew it was better to be stronger in case Sara was in danger than keep the lean dancer's arms that weren't going to grace the stage anytime soon.
Ready to try again, Katrine jumped up and grasped the bar, certain that if she held her breath and glared at her hands she might be able to muscle through, but even though she squeezed her biceps as hard as she could and gripped the bar so tightly she thought she could bend it, she went nowhere. Only her feet dangled pathetically off the ground, and she dropped back down and huffed, scraping the dirt with her boot. "Screw you too," she said, curling her lip.
"Insulting it's not going to help."
She knew that voice, knew that there was no one else who'd be awake at this time of night, and didn't bother turning. "I've found it often does," she said, hoping the embarrassed strain in her tone wasn't obvious. Couldn't she fail in peace without the most skilled man in the Scouts judging her?
"If it did then you'd be the strongest one here," Levi said, and his footsteps grew louder until he was beside her.
She turned, ready to tell him to shove off, but at the sight of him every nerve in her body ignited, enough to obliterate her fatigue and flood her with buzzing raw energy.
He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, soaking through his thin cotton shirt rolled up at the forearms that obviously had no problem with any number of pull-ups. It was open at the collar and she could clearly see the droplets collecting between his collarbones, glistening in the moonlight, and the damp fabric clung to his chest, hinting at what was beneath. For a moment she could only hear the blood rushing in her ears, only feel her skin turn from icy to burning and back again, until she realized the single sound filling the air was his slight panting and that she was supposed to say something.
"What are you doing here?" she asked stupidly.
"Running," he said. "Heard your complaining. Didn't think pull-ups could be so noisy." He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the strands stuck to his forehead out of the way, and then the only thing she could see was the line of his jaw. Simultaneously she wished she was blind and wondered how she hadn't noticed before when it was clear as day that he was gorgeous, more than any pretty bracelet or necklace she ever owned, more so than a man had any right to be.
This had not happened before, or not so intensely. Most of the men Sara talked to were handsome, objectively speaking. The male dancers at Mitras Company were all attractive. But they didn't send a wave of prickly heat down her back or sever the connection between her brain and her mouth. It wasn't supposed to happen. She didn't like men, didn't trust them; so why did she want to reach her finger out and trace the jutting line of his collarbone?
Katrine forced her attention back to the bar. "I don't get it. I can do push-ups."
"It's not just your arms," Levi said. "Starts with your back."
"But I am using my back."
"No, you're not." Though she couldn't help but bristle, his tone wasn't critical. Instead, he sounded like he was just pointing out the obvious, like that it was a full moon. But how did he know that? How could he tell? Suddenly she felt his eyes on her back, though he wasn't even looking at her.
"I've got a trick you can use," he said. Katrine didn't know where to look; not his chest, not his arms, and certainly not his eyes. Instead, she settled for the top of his head.
"I don't trust any trick of yours." She didn't like where this was going and hated feeling like she was struggling to contain the swirl of primal emotion torrenting through her.
Levi shrugged. "Helped Isabel."
Katrine conceded that she really could use the help. "All right, then, what is it?"
He pointed to the bar and positioned himself so he was facing her. "Hop up."
Katrine leaped up and grabbed it, waiting for his next instruction.
"Give me your feet."
"What?" she asked incredulously, drawing her knees to her chest. This was definitely going to be some strange torture.
"You heard me. It'll make sense in a moment."
She wrinkled her nose, making it obvious that she thought this was odd, but stretched out her legs. He took both her ankles in one hand, lifting them up near his shoulder, and though she had boots on she could feel the pressure of his fingers through the tough leather. The other he pressed to his waist, pushing the hem of his shirt up so that she could see a sliver of skin, enough to make her bite her lip and look purposefully at the bar. You have a thing for him! Sara's tittering voice echoed through her head. How had she known before Katrine did? Was it so obvious, written all over her face for everyone to see? Did he see it too?
"Now you have less weight, so you can get the motion down. You have to squeeze your back first," Levi said. "Shoulder blades together. Then you use your arms."
Katrine thought she'd been doing that already, but focused on following the steps. She squeezed her shoulders together, pushing them back, and then tensed her biceps and pulled herself upwards. Instead of hovering in place, straining to move, her chest lifted effortlessly and she rested her chin on the bar. "It worked!" she gasped, unable to contain her excitement.
"Of course it did," he said. "Three more."
Katrine completed them, though her arms started to shake on the last one. It felt like she was awakening muscles she didn't know existed. "Now what?" she asked, breathless.
"Now one with just your right arm."
"And rip my arm out the socket?"
"Won't know until you try."
Twisting her lips, she slowly removed her left hand and gripped the bar tighter with her remaining hand. Even with half her weight gone, this was going to be impossible. She engaged the muscles in her back, trying to pull herself up, when suddenly pain shot through her shoulder and she gasped, shocked, and her hand slipped off the bar.
Levi was fast, dropping her legs and immediately extending his arms, and he caught her right before she plummeted to the ground. His hand pressed into her back, icy and damp, and before she knew it her own fingers grasped his bicep. She was close enough to feel his breath tickle her cheek and to catch his scent, a mixture of earth and sweat that reminded her of the forests, not at all like the stagnant stale odor of the Underground. Her lips parted to gasp but nothing came.
Looking at him, the only thing in her field of vision, she saw that his eyes were not the gunmetal gray she thought they were but a deep navy, the color of the night sky right before dawn. His eyelashes were thick and dark, something the girls at the Mitras Company would have killed for, and his cheekbones looked almost delicate beneath his pale skin, something that didn't match his personality. Up close his eyes didn't look tired and dull; they were softer. There was a tiny flutter in her chest, foreign but not painful, caught inside her ribs in the absence of breath. It was going to invade her every thought.
Just as suddenly as he caught her Levi dropped her like he realized his touch was improper, and right as she hit the ground that flutter was gone and air rushed back into her lungs.
"You can use a chair, or someone else," he said, stepping back. "Not gonna hold you forever."
Katrine sat up, concentrating on breathing. In and out, in and out. "Thanks." Be calm, be normal!
"Let me know when you can do a one-arm pull-up. Though it might take you a few years."
"I'll work on it," she said, and he disappeared behind the shed. His footsteps receded in the gravel, back to running.
Katrine exhaled forcefully and then sucked in as much air as she could until her lungs twinged, tugging at her hair and trying to gather her thoughts. This didn't make any sense either. Levi didn't need to do kind things for her, things she wouldn't consider doing for him or for others, and he didn't seem to expect anything in return. In fact, he acted like he wanted nothing from her. But that was wrong; people always wanted something in return. No one was that altruistic.
And why did that soft look on his face keep reappearing when she closed her eyes, and why did she wish she had reached up to touch his face? Her hands felt empty, robbed of the sensation.
The sudden burst of energy was gone and now she was so tired she didn't think she could crawl back to the barracks. She collapsed to her back and looked at the stars, head hurting more than her arms.