“You’re a long way off the trade road. D’you hail from Appleton?”

If I hadn’t been mute with shock, I might’ve come up with a sensible reply. I kept my hand pressed to my side and my left on my dagger, just in case. Stalker came up behind me, and he too drew up short. But he had the presence of mind to say, “We came from the city.”

The man raised his brows. “You funnin’ me? Nobody lives in the cities anymore.”

Our savior had granted those words the kind of conviction I’d once offered the elders. But his ideas were no truer than mine had been. His people didn’t know about mine. This wasn’t the time to argue with him, however, or to convince him Stalker spoke the truth.

“Tegan’s pretty bad off,” I got out. “Her leg’s all slashed up.”

“Ran into the Muties, did you? No wonder, out here. I never go anywhere without Old Girl.” He raised a long black thing that I identified as a weapon, even before he made it pump and click. “I’m Karl, but folks call me Longshot.”

“Why?” Stalker asked.

“Because every time I live through a trade run, it’s a long shot. Been doin’ it nigh on twenty years.”

That couldn’t be possible. In the underground tribes, in the ruins, people barely lived that long, let alone held the same job for that amount of time.

“How old are you?” I asked.

I knew the question had to be rude, but his answer was crucial. Because his very existence shattered and remade my picture of the world.

“Forty-two.”

He had to a live in a better place, where people didn’t shrivel up and die so young. With every part of me, I wanted a glimpse of it. Maybe it wasn’t too late for me, despite my years below the earth. Maybe it wasn’t too late for any us. I clung to that hope, fiercely exultant.

“I don’t believe it,” Stalker breathed.

But the old man didn’t hear him. “Lessee about getting your friend up here. I can’t leave the mules standing long.”

“I’ve got her,” Fade called.

Stalker went down to help him. I waited up top because it had been all I could do to get myself up the incline with the hot knife in my side. I didn’t want to show weakness more than I had to. Silk might have sent this character; she might not. The boys gathered our gear, put out the fire, and then scrambled up. But when the old man got a look at Tegan he recoiled.

“That’s fever,” he said, backing off. “She plague-ridden?”

I shook my head, forgetting he probably couldn’t see me in this light. “No, I swear. It’s an injury. Let me show you.” I lifted her leg so he could see where we’d sealed the wound, and how her limb was swelling up.

“Y’did some backcountry doctoring. Right brave, that was. But her thigh looks bad, and we’re a day out of Salvation. Let’s get loaded up.”

He led the way back toward the road. I fell a little behind the others because the movement sent pain lancing through me. It was farther than it looked, and I was panting by the time I reached the wagon. I’d seen smaller versions, usually rusted and painted red. His was giant in comparison, and had two animals tied to the front of it. Mules, I seemed to recall him saying. They seemed placid enough as we approached.

“With all the supplies I’m hauling to trade, you’ll have to squeeze in back there. One of you can ride up front with me.”

“I will,” Stalker said, and vaulted up.

The old man hadn’t been kidding when he said it would be a tight fit. I climbed in first, swallowing another groan, and then I helped Fade get Tegan settled. The back was piled high with bags and boxes; luckily some gave when we leaned on them, and they weren’t all hard-edged awful.

“You set?” the man called.

“Ready,” I answered.

With a shout of “yah,” he snapped the lines he had tied to the mules and we jolted into motion. Once I found a corner to curl up in, it wasn’t so bad. Tegan lay across my lap and Fade’s. Every now and then, I gave her a little water. She had gotten too weak to swallow it unless I rubbed her throat.

I ached as I looked at her. Fever chills wracked me too. One minute, I felt like I was burning up, and the next, cold as ice. Fade put his arm around me and I put my head on his shoulder, not thinking about the future. Nothing we could do about it. We’d given this trip everything and then some.

“You knew somebody was coming,” he whispered. “Didn’t you?”

“Kind of.”

“How?”

At that point, I was too far gone to care if he believed me. “Silk told me.”

He fell quiet, either worried about my mind or pondering what I meant. It was all the same to me. I slipped into a sleep full of whispers, as if I listened through running water. Don’t leave me, Deuce. I need you. I want it to be like it was, before the others came. I never had the chance to say it—it sounded like Fade, but he’d never speak these words. Never whisper with such raw emotion. Did he just say—

I love you?

I had to be dreaming. The next thing I knew, daylight blazed against my eyelids. My whole body was stiff and sore; my legs had gone to sleep from Tegan’s weight. I couldn’t feel them.

I bent down, frantic, until Fade stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “She’s hanging on. It’s all right.”

“Nearly there?”

“I think so.”

A slow exhalation pushed out of me. “Could you do me a favor?”

He almost smiled. “If it’s in my power.”

“Tell me the end of the book?”

Fade didn’t ask why. He just dug into his pack, found it for me, and opened it to the page where we’d left off, before Stalker and Tegan came between us, before his sadness closed him against me like a heavy door. Softly, he began to read:

Aurora nearly died with joy, and told them all how Watho had lied and made her believe her child was dead.

Through Watho, the mothers, who had never seen each other, had changed eyes in their children.

But hardly had one of them passed, before Nycteris had come to love the day best, because it was the clothing and crown of Photogen, and she saw that the day was greater than the night, and the sun more lordly than the moon; and Photogen had come to love the night best, because it was the mother and home of Nycteris._]

Though some of the words were strange, hope sprang up in me. It felt like the right ending, the day boy marrying the night girl. In their triumph I found faith.

Just then the wagon jolted to a stop.

“We’re here,” Longshot said to us, and then he yelled, “Trade caravan! Open up!”

Easing Tegan away, I pushed up on my knees so I could see, and my breath caught. Tall wooden walls surrounded an aboveground enclave. Men stood on top of the gate with weapons like the one Longshot carried. They gazed down at us with hard faces and scrutinized the old man, his cargo, and us before waving us through. Most were younger than Longshot, but older than us. I had little way of knowing more.

As my heart lightened, someone opened the gates, so the mules could trudge inside. They moved like they were tired, and no wonder, hauling us all through the night. I put the book away and drank in the sight of Salvation.

The place was wondrous. The buildings were all new, built of wood and clay, maybe, and some even had fresh white paint. People walked the streets openly and none them appeared to be armed. They were clean and well fed.

“This is the place,” Fade said. “My dad was right.”

Once the wagon stopped, I climbed down, ignoring the pain in my side. My fever had broken, leaving me more or less clearheaded.

“Let me take you to see Doc Tuttle,” Longshot said. “Bring the girl. If she can be saved, he’s the man for the job, and if not, he’ll say some kind words for her soul.”

“Soul” was a new word, one I didn’t know, but instinctively I connected it to the trace of Silk I’d felt with me, long after I knew the Freaks must’ve eaten her.

“Thanks,” I said.

Fade carried Tegan every step of the way. His back had to be aching, but he never faltered. After collecting our gear, Stalker paused every now and then to gaze around; I knew just how he felt.

People showed equal interest in us. We were wild looking and filthy, I had no doubt. The wall went all the way around the enclave, and people I took to be Hunters stood at every vulnerable point, guarding the safety of those who lived within. Here, there must be Breeders, who made sure the new generation could carry on, and the Builders, who made the things folks needed. It wasn’t so different from what I’d known, after all. But everything was bright and clean, and the air smelled sweet.

“Here we are. Bring her on in. Doc!” Longshot shouted. “Got business for you.”

“Did one of those mules bite you—oh.” The man who came into the front room was short and wide with a bald head. Like Longshot, he wasn’t young. I’d never imagined such a place, where people grew to look like this, instead of withered from the wasting that took us underground.

Longshot said, “Poor girl tangled with a Mutie. Hope you can help her. Anyway, I best get tending my goods before people take a mind to help themselves.”

“Did you cauterize this wound?” the man called Doc Tuttle demanded.

I shared a look with the boys and then said, “We put a hot knife on it to seal it up. It was bleeding buckets and we were in Freak territory.”

“That’s what I meant. Oh, you’ve made a mess of things. Get out of here now.” When we hesitated, he scowled at us fiercely, bushy brows drawn. “Get!”

“We’d like a minute with her,” I said firmly.

His frown didn’t vanish, but it softened. “Very well. I’ll go get my things ready.”

She wasn’t conscious, but it didn’t stop me from cupping her cheek in my hand, bending and kissing her forehead. “You’ll be all right. We’ll be back soon, Tegan.”

“We will.” Fade brushed her hair back and studied her, a muscle flexing in his jaw. I could see the idea of leaving her hurt him. But it hurt me too.

To my surprise, Stalker stepped forward and joined us at her side. He didn’t reach out, but I saw something new in his face. “You’re stronger than I knew, maybe stronger than you knew. So fight hard.”

“You should stay,” Fade said. “You’re injured too.”

I shook my head. “She’s more important.”

“You done in here?” Doc Tuttle came back with a tray of supplies, most of which I didn’t recognize.

Since none of us wanted to risk Tegan’s health by angering the man who could fix her, I nodded. And we left. I was afraid he might be cut from the same cloth as Bonesaw and would just make it worse, but we’d done all we could for her. I could only be glad we hadn’t given up on her. Beyond that, I could do no more.

Gazing around, I read the signs on the buildings. SHOES. REPAIR. CLOTHING. GROCER. BUTCHER. I knew shoes. Mine had worn clean through during the long hike, and I’d lined them with fabric to keep from walking my feet bloody. I could use new shoes, but I doubted I had anything anybody wanted to trade. What was more, I didn’t know any of the rules here, or where we should go.