Chapter 31: Shadowman

Edie saw her brother sprout in the months before his leaving. Looking back, his growth started when Maria fell, and continued steadily as the three teenagers dominated everyone's thoughts. With the titan's invasion, he escalated in his sincerity and devotion, all the more determined to become a Scout, then the best, then find anyone outside the walls and give them the best care. But after the citadel wedding, his character softened some, and she read it in his letters, that evening, by candlelight. A memory came back to taunt her, from two nights after Corini and Tinnul were joined. He'd shaken her awake that night, just as the first fingers reached to shake the boat, and with a sideways motion, they bumped heads.

They'd both fallen back, rubbing foreheads. "If you're trying to sneak out to Mr. Solway's, you're out of luck," she mumbled. The moon had already traced most of its path, meaning work started in only three hours. "Go to sleep."

"You were tossing a lot," he mumbled back. He'd tossed his shoulder and flopped back on the floor. "And talking."

"Oh."

They were silent for a while longer.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Not so long as I can go to bed."

"Not about this." Jamie had turned over. "About…about Commander Erwin."

"What about him?"

"Are you mad that we've been spending time together? You know, doing pre-Scouting stuff?"

"Why should I be? It's your career. You're getting a jump on it."

"We both know it's more than a career."

"I'm not mad." She'd rolled over, her back toward him. "Go to sleep."

A few minutes passed, or an hour, or just a second. Edie couldn't tell. She just knew that the fingers crept across the bedsheets, and she flinched to flicker them away. Not now. Not again.

"You always sleep soundly," Jamie murmured.

"I work hard."

"Yeah. You do." His sheets rustled as he sat up. The shadows changed. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"Aren't we a little old for bad dreams?"

"I'm not. You know those pictures we saw from Mr. Solway's family book, the one with the spotted animals with long necks?" Edie turned as her brother shuddered. "Ever since that titan came through here, I have this dream where they're chasing me. I didn't even get chased by the titan, but…anyway."

"I don't dream about the titan. But we can talk about it, if you need to."

"I'm good; those long-necked things are terrifying on their own." He scooted to the bed and rested his chin on the edge. "But you did have a bad dream, didn't you?"

Edie bit her lip, then sat up. "This one's been slumbering."

"Pun…intended?"

"Sure."

"What's it about?"

"I don't want to talk about it." But the defense sounded weaker than Kikoi's wrestling skills. "Can we just go to sleep?"

"It'll come right back."

"Probably. But that's just how it is." She slunk back under the covers. "You can't control what your mind does when you're asleep."

Jamie had stayed alert, stuck to the mattress. "I think you can. If you talk about something, then it's not in your mind anymore. That's what Ample Amile says about fighting. It can't just be something that you think about, but something you talk about and do. That's how you get good."

"I see."

Amile. In the moment, her mind shot to sharpness. The captain, and Amile. Why couldn't they both live in the same thought? The shadow's fingers weren't so gripping anymore.

"I'm in a…cradle," she began, "or at least something narrow and…crevasse-y. I'm lying down, looking up, when giants come along, either…two or three."

"Titans?"

"No. They're not titans. They come up, one by one, and start rocking the…cradle. I think I'm going to fall out, and just fall, forever. They don't listen to anything, and I don't know what they want. And it hurts." She bit her lip. "But you woke me up before the shaking started."

"You've had it before? What happens after the shaking?"

A bead of sweat spilled with the story, and a gutless feeling settled below her stomach. "There was someone else, a shadow-man, I guess, and he moves closer, and pushes the cradle under. And the pressure just gets greater, and greater, until…until you're gone." She had wiped a stray tear away. "But you woke me up before that."

"Damn." Jamie had shuddered. "That sounds terrible."

Edie gave him a look. "You'd better watch it, or I'll start being mad about this whole arrangement."

"Sorry, sorry. The Scouts don't really think of me as a kid."

"Well." Edie burrowed back under the covers. "You're going to be different than them, anyway."

"Yeah. I guess." He reached up and poked her arm. "Sleep well."

"Thanks. And…thanks for waking me up."

"Bwop." He'd pulled the covers over his head.

She'd laughed, rolled over, and slept peacefully after that. For months, actually. Through Jamie's leaving, through the farm's summer hardships, through the first few dates with the captain. Through those wonderful two days spent after the thunderstorm, when the crops practically grew themselves and Levi and she spent whole afternoons and evenings in each other's presence. It was the night after, when he'd said his good-byes, promised to write, had a forlorn look in his eyes, and rode off down the driveway. That evening was fine, with a luscious sleep full of recent memory and warmth. But the following day, the shadowman followed and noticed that she was without a certain someone. That night, the giants returned, and drowned their old companion until the rooster crowed.

Edie jerked awake with a start, covered head to toe with sweat. The sheets were on the floor, her muscles ached, and that chicken would not shut up. Standing up, she fell immediately to the floor, seasick with the world rocking around her. She gasped for air, half expecting to find water in her lungs.

"Damn," she whispered. Her hands and legs shook as if back in the arctic mountains, scrambling for air and shelter. She gripped the dresser knobs and pulled. Her unfamiliar mirror begged for recognition, so she turned away. "Damn it."

And so, the two faces of Edie Cartwell terrorized the farm. Torrential rains most evenings caused the sunflowers out front to shoot up, higher than the porch railing and Edie herself. Moreover, the half of the crop usually lost to deafening temperatures and scuttering rodents proudly announced they would be used to feed massive populations this year, for the whole lucky area receiving the rain. Mice, rats, and possums drowned as their homes were flooded, and their bodies attracted vultures and hawks which would hopefully settle for the next season. Making up for terrible silence, Larmie boasted constantly that he had to write to Ehmrich, requesting common laborers for the approaching harvest. Jamie's absence was untimely, certainly, but he'd make his mark as a reliable farmer, making generations of Cartwells proud. Hajule was in the evening habit of charting old in the family book, in hopes that their numbers would nearly double, and more land be granted to the family.

Such was the joy, that Edie gratefully went unnoticed.

The shadowman didn't come every night. He had other people to terrorize, after all; she was just his favorite. Sometimes, his hauntings left her a few hours sitting awake, cold and fully conscious, to ponder over all that had become since that first visit. Jamie was gone, nothing more to be done there. From his letters, training was going perfectly. Erwin had pulled him for a few weekends, with no explanation to Jamie's peers, making him a sort of a legend. Things were no better with his crush, but that was how it went for a future Scout. Larmie and Hajule were happy, as they could be, with Mr. Solway's nightly blubbering, Tinnul's belly growing every day, and Jamie's reported success. They'd be more than happy to pass the expanded farm onto Corini, who would be more than happy to cultivate it in the Cartwell name. She'd done what she needed to, for Jamie's sake. All was well, and getting better.

"But Levi," she always ended up whispering. The shadowman stood at the end of her bed with a disapproving glance. "What am I thinking?"

I've got a theory about rivers. For context, outside Wall Maria, water flows freely across the land. We've got controlled versions inside of the walls, used for transportation, and a few smaller streams. On some missions, before Maria fell, we encountered huger versions of streams which stretched tens of meters. They were magnificent, and too deep for the horses to cross. They flowed from elevated points and gathered in pools, useful for replenishing resources. Little study is done on them, especially now, that none are within mankind's reach. Once we recapture Maria, I intend to go to the source of one, using ODM, and see where that water is coming from. There's got to be a storehouse in the rock, of some kind, or a cycle in which water travels underground. Larmie's lucky to have the thunderstorms now, but dry seasons are inevitable. That seemingly unlimited resource might assist the growing process.

What a gentleman, trying to help her family's petty problems while he helped humanity regain its lost land. One of his letters put an end to the shadowman, for a while, at least.

Something's been on my mind, since our last date together. I intended to wait until we were face to face, but was reminded that nothing should be put off till tomorrow which can be done today. I neglected to ask if you wanted to move onto the more physical realm of our relationship, and that was wrong. I assumed that handholding and kissing were alright, since they continued in the following days, but I sensed something was off on our next outing. I see now that I was…freer with my movements. If I ever cause you discomfort, please tell me. I don't wish to lose your trust on account of unrestraint.

She wrote back, expressing that yes, it had been a surprise, and yes, it would be nice if they could rein it in for a while. No more words she added brought more value to the statement, so she stopped trying to clarify. The shadowman gripped the bars behind the words, reaching between the a in appreciate and the d in hard. With the letter sealed, the giants went to bother someone else.

Don't lose your head, but there's a tea conference. Hori's extended an invitation to you and I, being fellow enthusiasts. The unfortunate part is that it's a two day journey, in Nedlay. Teamakers from all areas of the walls are gathering to test new blends, swap brewing methods, and write an almanac for amateurs. Perhaps they'll start making tea right in the outer areas. The dates are right when we return from our last mission. If you're able and would like, I have two rooms reserved in the city, absolutely secure and safe. Though I know you can take care of yourself.

But the last letter, after three months absence, changed those plans.

Sixty-two Scouts were lost on our last mission. A memorial service will be held at the Scout burial site, where fourteen will be laid in the ground, and their names will be etched into stone. I will not be able to join you in Nedlay. Please give Hori my regards.

She'd written back, saying she wouldn't go without him, not out of interest, but because it was his passion more than hers. Could she accompany him to the memorial, not as an outing, but for support?

Mr. Solway brought a message straight to their house a day later, barely dropping it on Edie's desk before skirting off to find Larmie for dating advice. The recipient found it that evening, three days before the memorial. An Urgent stamp covered most of the tiny envelope, and inside, was a short message written with a tremble in otherwise perfect handwriting.

Please come.