Chapter 34: Prying Eyes

Her captain was quite good at longevity, but even better at following orders. Once they crested the valley's walls and cantered on the open roads, he set his head on her shoulder and fell asleep. The thought of breaking into the Cadet Corp camp (and getting away with it, if Barracks 3 knew how to keep their mouths shut) streamed adrenaline through her veins and kept every nerve open to the slightest sensation. Little dragonflies buzzed in the grass and changed the wind's course around the captain's nameless horse; leaves sprung up with the passing passengers and tickled her ankles. But her favorite sensation was the body pressed against her back, and the soft, steady breathing, as a rising and falling, a pressing and taking away.

Early on, she'd discovered a truth – stay busy, always working, and never slow your hands. If your mind is occupied with a task, it cannot wander into dangerous territory. Wonderings and meditation were for those with less to do, either people whose poverty overwhelmed them or whose riches reached to the heavens. Those in the middle, she found, had to stay busy, people who had crushing responsibilities, overwhelming cares, and not enough to do it with. Stay busy, mind and body, and your soul will never have time to wonder if something is wrong. Seed a field. Train a brother. Fight a titan. These were things she could do. But sit on a rooftop and watch an evening thunderstorm, or spend a day in leisure and get to bed with not enough exhaustion to drift until sunrise. Take a stroll in a field of flowers, and enjoy a pot of tea for an hour. She didn't like it. It was too loud, too long, and left more questions than answers.

Horseback riding was a little too monotonous; the rhythmic movement and waiting for your destination let thoughts have free rein. This ride, though—it could've lasted forever. A clear purpose, a long road, and precious cargo. His chest pushed against her back again, and she took a deep breath. There weren't any lingering eyes here. There were no walls, no titans. There were no mysteries to be solved or nightmare demons to slay. There were no questions, no cries for mercy—just quiet.

Yet as they passed through her little town, past Mr. Solway's new house and sleeping bride, and past farmland in her family for generations, she knew this cargo wouldn't stay asleep forever. It, too, would wake, with questions which had no favorable answers.

She pulled on the reins, and as his horse slowed to a walk, the captain stirred and sat up straight. He exhaled, then rested his arms again at her waist. "Thank you."

They dismounted, but Edie held onto the reins. "Are you too rested for another suggestion?"

"That all depends."

She put a hand on his cheek. "Come inside and get some rest."

"I wouldn't want to disturb." He took her hand and squeezed it. "Besides, I don't think I could trust myself now."

She blushed. "We have a spare room."

"All the same." He kissed her and pressed his forehead against hers. She breathed his sweet breath before drawing away. "Might I see you tomorrow?"

"So long as you're rested. And we can always stay here. I don't need fancy city dates and sunflower fields—"

Levi smiled. "You're worth it."

"—and you need sleep."

He ran his hand around her neck and through her hair once more. "Tomorrow, then."

"If you yawn at all, I'm sending you home."

"Fine."

Edie watched his figure sink into the driveway, then turn toward the city. She climbed the steps, but hesitated at the door, and sat on the top step. The moon was well behind the roof by now, but brilliant stars lit the whole celestial ceiling. The world might as well be in daytime, for the pure light falling to the earth. Her hair, mussed by the ride, fell in front of her shoulders, and she nursed a clump on her left.

"Tomorrow," she whispered. He might be—was—coming tomorrow. He didn't have a mission for another week, but all the same, they hadn't planned this. The spontaneity set her stomach in a twist, and with each reassuring swallow, the pressure increased.

Shadowman seemed to be lurking behind a tree, getting closer and closer. Edie shuddered, got up, and headed inside.

She went to the kitchen and ran cold water, knowing nothing would keep her awake till morning. Sleep would come, and with it a million figures, wonderings, and questions. Tomorrow—or later today, rather—would be, well, she didn't know what. It was quite difficult to be strategic with next to no tactical information.

"Edie?" A slumbering voice came from the corner, and she jumped. "Dear? Did you just come in?"

"Mother," Edie said, slumping on the counter with a sigh. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"You were meant to be home before sundown," she replied, barely awake. "I only thought…well, I thought you might have something…"

"Thought I might have what?"

"It's silly, now that I think of it." Hajule stood, the rocking chair creaking behind her. "I thought you would have something to show me. I should've gone to bed when Larmie said to."

The voices in Edie's mind magnified. She clutched the counter as her mother walked by.

"Did you two go into the city?"

"No." Edie felt the cold water drip onto her hands, mixed with others from her eyes. "We…we went to the training camp. To see Jamie."

"Oh!" Hajule pressed her hand on her heart. "What a wonderful surprise. What a…well, what a wonderful man."

"Yes." Edie bit her lip. "He is, isn't he?"

"Well." Her mother kissed her cheek and bustled into the hallway, seeming rather proud of herself. "I'm sure you want to get to bed, dear. You can tell us all about it in the morning." She came back around the corner. "Oh! How is Jamie? His letters are very underwhelming."

"He's…taller. He's good."

"Oh." Hajule grinned. "Just wonderful."