The Arcana Chronicles 3: Dead of Winter

He stared at his hand. Subject closed.

“Okay, then, what about the Priestess? Can we get her into our alliance?”

“Snow falls on graves.” He wrapped his arms around himself.

“What graves, sweetheart? Are you cold?” Though the fire was crackling along, I looked around for another log. Didn’t see one.

Of course not. The resources here were limited. How much precious wood had Jack spent on this fire, to warm me alone while he was gone?

Matthew said, “Tredici nears.”

“What is Tredici?” It was too early in the morning, or the afternoon, or whenever, for this kind of confusion. “Will you explain?”

He blinked, as if I’d asked him a ridiculous question.

Inhaling for patience, I said, “So. Today’s a big day for me. Do you have any advice that won’t make my head hurt worse?”

“Everything from me makes you hurt. Power is your burden. Knowledge is mine. But I gave you everything before I lose my head.”

“What are you talking about?” I crossed to him, pressing the backs of my fingers against one of his sallow cheeks. No fever. “Can you try to rest now?”

“Too much to do.”

He’d said that before. “Like what? Do you want me to help you with any—”

He stood, turned toward the exit, then left me.

“Good talk, buddy,” I said to myself. Grabbing my bug-out bag, I went searching for a place to get cleaned up.

In a communal bathroom facility, I washed with cold water, brushed my teeth, and changed into clean clothes—jeans, halter, hoodie. I felt better, but I couldn’t shake that nagging headache.

I checked on Tess, who was taking a nap—reactoring, I suppose. About a third of the fruit I’d made for her was gone, and she steadily gained weight. Someone had left a baseball cap to cover her patchy hair.

As I headed back to the tent, chafing my hands against the chill, the gates creaked open.

Jack.

He rode into the courtyard astride a striking gray horse. I stood off in the shadows, not drawing attention to myself, just watching him.

His face was less swollen. The bandage on his chest peeked up from the collar of his flannel shirt and camo jacket. His crossbow was strapped over his other shoulder.

Joules rode in, Gabriel landing nearby. All the people in the fort cheered for the returning heroes.

When a wagon loaded with supplies rolled in, Jack called orders to soldiers. A few offloaded pallets of cans. Another group went around to lift a large gun off the back.

Jack dismounted, moving stiffly. He unstrapped a bulky camo duffel bag from his saddle, hauling it over his body. Men gathered around him, asking questions. Despite his younger age, they hung on his every word.

His unforgiving life had honed him, giving him hard-earned skills, but he’d never had a chance to utilize them to this degree.

It’d taken an apocalypse for Jack to come into his own as a leader.

He paused midsentence, then turned in my direction, as if he sensed me there.

I stepped from the shadows, and our eyes met, his so vivid and gray. His gaze roamed over my face and figure the way it had on our first day of school together, like he hadn’t seen a girl in years.

Never taking his focus off me, he said something that made the other men nod and set off; then he crossed the distance between us.

Without a word, he clasped my hand, leading me to his tent. How would I approach this talk? I needed to tell him about Aric, but now wasn’t the right time.

The tent seemed so much smaller with him in it, because Jack was larger than life. He pulled off that duffel bag, setting aside his bow.

We stood staring at each other in silence. At length, he moved to stand before me. “Didn’t think you could get prettier.” Curling his finger under my chin, he leaned down to kiss me.

I was stunned, motionless. I’d pictured our reunion, but I’d never imagined him just walking up and kissing me. A thrill cascaded through me.

God, I’d missed the feel of his lips. I gasped with pleasure.

But right when my hands decided to reach for him, my feet stepped me back. “Um, how are you feeling?”

He was clearly disappointed by my reaction. What else had he expected? The problems between us hadn’t magically fixed themselves. “You know me: tête dure.” Hard head. “I was more worried about you.”

“I’m fine. You know me: regeneration.”

By the way he removed his coat, you’d never know the extent of his injuries. But that muscle ticked in his jaw. His tell. He wore a shoulder holster with two pistols, unstrapping that as well.

“When did you start carrying guns?”

“When I started goan up against firepower.” He dragged his flask out of a pocket and took a pull.

I sat on Matthew’s cot, as stiffly as he had before. “So you, Joules, and Gabriel took over the army?”

“Ouais. I wanted you and Selena there to give you credit, but she’s off somewhere, and you shooed me away when I tried to wake you earlier.” I had? “Didn’t want to leave you, but I needed to make sure those filles were being treated right.”

Of course he would. I’d never known any man who hated violence against women so much.

“When folks see Arcana like Joules and Gabriel, they tend to step in line.” He stoked the fire. “I’m not above using that to achieve some order around here.”

He sat across from me, elbows on his knees, flask at the ready. His thick black hair tumbled over his forehead, and tousles jutted above his ears.

I’d once threaded my fingers through his hair, drawing him down to me. “When did you decide to go public with our kind?” He now had seven of us here, an Arcana Justice League.

He took another swig. “I remembered that in the Basin everybody told themselves stories. We’d tell ourselves we could tolerate living there because we had our friends and family with us. Or that we were tied to those lands by our history. I started thinking folks needed new stories, and I just happened to have a kid with me who can make illusions and a girl whose skin glows.” He shrugged, then seemed to regret the movement. “We’ve been giving people a new story to tell.”

Though the sentiment was heartening, I was still surprised by his involvement. “In the past you didn’t concern yourself with others. You called serving your fellow man bullshit. You said live people were the worst kind.”

“I hadn’t met many solid characters then. Over these months, I have.”

“You never went looking for trouble. Sound familiar? This is a heaping ton of trouble.”