SURPRISE! Okay, I'm awful. I've been gone for... I won't even try to count the months. But, please, forgive me - I'm a college student in my second semester of my very first year and I'm trying to make it out alive. I feel terrible for putting this off for so long, and I don't have a set schedule just yet, BUT summer is coming up very soon. So, I hope to make it up to you guys then.

Until that time comes, please enjoy this chapter! And, as always, I would love to hear from you guys in the reviews. Chide me if you will for being gone FOREVER (I deserve it), but I would love to know what you guys think of where things are headed.

Again, if you ever have the urge, send me an email or two! Encouragement is always welcome and so are any questions you might have. My inbox is officially open for business since I finally was able to log back in after forgetting the password. The address is in my bio!

Much love to you all, I hope everything is going well for you guys!

- lightinside

Walking back to the encampment was always longer than I expected. I suspect it was because I didn't really want to be there – didn't feel at home. I missed the trees and the open air, all the things that were still untouched by Ratcliffe. But it seemed as though the time for that was passing, and swiftly. Soon, he would have what he came for. I wasn't a fool. I had no interest in money or fame. My eyes were open and I was awake and the more time I spent with Kocoum, speaking of the life of his people, I realized that Ratcliffe wanted a war.

And chances were that he would have it.

The thought depressed me thoroughly. I kept wondering if leaving was the best course of action as I went about my duties for the afternoon, helping some of the women with laundry. Before long I grew bored and wandered over to where some of the children were struggling to read. Ignoring the ache in my hands from my previous work, I decided to stay a little longer, for I saw something that caught my eye.

One of the young wives, Lyra, had clearly been teaching her daughter to read in secret.

I watched her, Melody, hanging a little too near to the boys, and paying a little too much attention to the words they struggled to pronounce. She looked perturbed by what she was hearing and finally abandoned silence with an exasperated sigh.

"No," Melody was saying, "that's not right." She marched over to the boys, easily three years older, and told them what was what with a confident little nod of her blonde curls. I couldn't keep the smile off my face even as Lyra dropped her wash and rushed her away from the group, steering her by the shoulders. Her mother drowned her protests, hushing her until they were out of sight.

Lyra was the mother I had always wanted. And from what I'd seen, Melody would become a young woman not much different from myself. Though she was no more than six years of age, she already had the attitude down perfectly. I laughed to myself all the way back to my quarters, narrowly avoiding running into several men carrying a bench.

They were readying for the bonfire even though the sun had yet to go down. And in the throngs of busy men, I never once saw Thomas. Or my brother.

It wasn't until I washed and dressed that I noticed the growing lateness of the hour and it was then that John's absence became more and more noticeable. I frowned. He would soon draw too much attention if he was not more careful with his time. I had no doubt as to where he'd gone, but I hoped that it was still too early for the others to notice. Or at least that they'd started drinking long before dinner and would be too inebriated by nightfall to say much about it.

I had gathered from his earlier absence that Thomas had been assigned to the night watch and decided to skip the bonfire, as promised. I picked up Thomas' dinner from Lyra with a grateful smile and began my trek to the fence where I knew he would be sitting, stomach rumbling. Ratcliffe never made things easy for Thomas. He was always assigned the longest shifts, the most menial tasks, and I knew it was because he thought Thomas wasn't capable of anything serious. But John, having always loved Thomas, had nurtured within me a respect of his young friend very early on. And now that I knew Thomas a little better, it was easy to see why John was so fond of him. Though bumbling and a little too nervous for my liking, he was earnest. That was something that I prized above most things, especially here so far from home.

And with my brother always missing as of late, Thomas was now my stand-in. I'd told him as much, earning a laugh and a bump of the shoulder. But I could see that he was curious. He wanted to know where John spent his days but was too polite to ask. I was too wary to tell. In Jamestown, John had said, there was no such thing as being too careful.

Says the oaf who's always gone, I thought with a roll of my eyes. Straining to see in the dark, I searched for Thomas' form sitting near the edge of camp and found him… sleeping.

"Oh, dear lord." I muttered and hurried over to wake him. I shoved his shoulder once, a little too harshly, and he tumbled onto the ground with a shout. "You really are something, Thomas. What if Ratcliffe had seen you catching up on your beauty sleep? Or Wiggins."

"Wiggins is off looking for that dog. He's gone again." Thomas said, rubbing his eyes. "You're getting stronger, Joanna. That almost hurt."

"Yes, well, remember that next time we're training." I said and held out his dinner. "Maybe you'll refrain from holding back so much. And take this. Eat something. Lyra sent it for you. The whole camp knows how pitiful you are."

Thomas grumbled something under his breath and I ruffled his hair as he tucked in to eat. Noticing his hat on the ground, I picked it up and plopped it back on his head. "You'll need a string to keep that thing attached eventually. It's so worn, Thomas."

"That's what people do with hats, Joanna. They wear them." He retorted with a chortle.

"Save the cheek and do try not to choke, will you?" I shot back as I sat down beside him. "I gave up going to the bonfire for this. I didn't come here for abuse, mind you."

"Oh, right." Thomas shrugged and continued eating his stew. "That. I'll tell you a secret, Joanna. I'm not entirely too hurt that I'm missing it."

I fought it for a moment, but grinned. "Secretly, I'm not either." I looked around, expecting to see others on watch but found none. "Is there no one out here with you?"

"Just me. And I was sleeping." Thomas sighed. "I never do anything right."

"Of course you do." I hushed him, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm slight and clumsy and no one trusts me to do anything important." He said suddenly. "And why should they? They're right not to."

"You do more than they know." I said. "You left your family and everything you knew to come here. You work hard, you do exactly what Ratcliffe asks. You're brave, Thomas. They just don't care enough to see it. They'd rather have someone they can pick on."

"I suppose." He took another dejected bite of his stew. "You didn't come all the way out here to listen to me complain."

I shook my head. "Really, it's alright. I find it a relief to know that someone else feels as out of place here as I do. It's refreshing. And I am a very good listener."

At that, Thomas found it within himself to laugh heartily at my lame attempt to joke and was right back to being mirthful as usual. I let him finish eating in silence, comfortably drinking in the quiet. And just as Thomas set his plate down on the ground, John came sneaking through the fence. I felt my mouth fall open as I watched him catch my eye, smiling, and put a finger to his lips.

I had half a mind to out him right then.

He discarded his cloak behind a tree, shook out his hair while Thomas stretched, and strolled casually over to sit next to his friend. John slapped him on the shoulder good-naturedly and Thomas, once again, nearly jumped out of his skin.

"John!" He cried, putting a hand to his heart. "Where have you been? It's been hours."

John shrugged, ignoring my stern glare from where I sat nearby. "I've been here, Thomas. I didn't realize Ratcliffe put you on watch until a few minutes ago."

"Ah, how reassuring. My closest friend doesn't notice my absence for an hour." Thomas muttered.

"Come off it now," John laughed. "I was stuffing my face, just like yourself it seems." He spared the empty plate a glance and then looked at me. His calm, cool manner infuriated me. I knew he was lying. Thomas trusted him too much to question the untruths flowing from his tongue like honey. I could barely refrain from crossing my arms and turning away from him in a huff. But he would accuse me of being a child, so I gritted my teeth instead. "You brought the poor sod dinner?"

"Someone had to. Ratcliffe would be content to let him starve."

John smirked. "You don't cook."

"Fine, Lyra made it. I only walked it over." I admitted with a sigh. "Stop behaving this way, you make yourself ridiculous."

"Your sister is far too considerate of me, John." Thomas said, almost chiding my brother. I managed to look up in in time to see John's mouth fall open in surprise. Thomas didn't often leap to my defense. "Stop teasing and leave her be."

John raised his hands and stood up, grabbing Lyra's plate as he went. "Alright, alright. I know where I'm not wanted. You two seem to make a solid team, I know when I'm outnumbered."

"Do be quiet." I said. "In addition to the ridiculous, adding ignorance to the exhaustingly long list of your flaws would undo your credit entirely. Now, run off somewhere and be useful."

Thomas sighed and looked pleadingly at John, as if wordlessly begging him not to go. John held up the plate with a flourish. "As a gentleman, it is my duty to return Lyra her plate. And then," he said, nodding at Thomas, "I'll be back to keep you company."

Thomas relaxed immediately. "Thank you. It'll be very dark soon. I've never liked the dark."

I glared at my brother as he opened his mouth to say something he deemed witty. Thomas was worried enough about his value at camp. John closed his mouth, thinking better of it, and smiled gently. "I never have, either." He said.

As he walked away, Thomas turned to me shaking his head. "You know, he's a lot kinder than he was before. Back in England. Not that he wasn't kind, but he's changed." Thomas snorted suddenly and looked directly at me, a joke pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Almost like he's met a girl."

I forced myself to laugh along with him and said he was being silly. "Imagine that." And suddenly, my back had broken out in a sweat. Now I was the liar. Fantastic. "It must be something in the air." I murmured offhandedly, looking anywhere but at Thomas. He would see the deflection in my eyes, I knew it. He would sense the lie. He loved John too much to see it, but I was a different story. Thomas, though innocent and unlearned in the ways of the world, could take one look and see right through me. And if he found out John's truth, would he find out mine as well?

More sweat.

"Maybe." He said and started wringing that tired old cap in his hands again. "Joanna…"

A twig snapped somewhere nearby and Thomas leapt up, snatching his gun as he went. After a moment of tense silence, waiting with bated breath, Percy came running through a gap in the fence. He was chasing a particularly mischievous racoon who seemed as though he was enjoying every second of time spent vexing Ratcliffe's dog. After another moment of a roundabout chase, Percy ran back through the fence after the racoon. All that could be heard were his furious barks in the night.

Thomas' hands shook as he held the gun, unable to laugh even as I did after Percy had gone. I sighed and stood, taking the gun from him with gentle hands before I put it back on the ground where it belonged.

"Thomas." I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"I thought it was an Indian," was all he said in return. He wouldn't look at me, even as he muttered some excuse about finding John, and stalked away from his post. He didn't take the gun.

I sat down, perplexed, and stared at the thing for a long time in silence. It was crude, long and ugly. I couldn't imagine that this would make anyone feel safe. It was a bringer of death. And I hated it.

However, the more I looked, the more curious I became. Thomas knew nothing about shooting, clearly. When he aimed the gun, he should have kept both eyes open. I would remind John to tell him, as he'd told me. But I had never held a gun before. Maybe, if things went sideways over the next several days, I should at least know how to hold one. I knew how to aim. How difficult could it be?

Percy was long gone with his little forest friend and there was no one around. I wouldn't risk harm to anyone. A little practice wouldn't hurt me.

I picked up the rifle with a steady hand, but a racing heart. My mouth suddenly felt like it was filled with ash. Easy, Joanna, I tried to calm myself. You might have to protect yourself in the crossfire. But when I lifted the traitorous thing, it fired.

With a screech, I fell over and dropped it with a clatter. The groan from beyond the fence hadn't escaped my notice and my hand flew to my mouth. Before I could check to see if I had indeed done what I thought I had, several men came running. Ratcliffe was one of them.

It was clear that he was not expecting me. His dark eyes stared at me with malice as he took in the scene before him. "Go back to your quarters, men." He raised his voice not to be heard, but to shame me as much as possible. But he didn't know that I was incapable of embarrassment. I stared back at him, chin held high. "It was nothing but a little girl."

The words stung, but I didn't show it. As the rest of the group stalked away muttering amongst themselves, Ratcliffe hauled me to my feet. I pulled away from him as if he were poison once I had my footing. And still I never lowered my gaze.

Furious at my insolence, his hand came across my cheek before I could blink. I tasted blood in my mouth. "You are as much a thorn in my side as your brother. This is no place for a woman. You would do well to remember that." He spat. "And if I find you here again, there are worse fates in store for you Joanna Smith."

I refused to cry while he was still within earshot. As soon as Ratcliffe was out of sight, I checked my lip with trembling fingers. The outside seemed fine, but I had bitten the inside of my cheek. It would be swollen tomorrow, and I would have to come up with an excuse to hide the reason for it. I spat out a mouthful of blood onto the ground, refusing to look at the rifle, and remembered the sound that came from outside the fence.

Checking to make sure there was no one around, I lifted my skirts and rushed to the edge where I had seen John enter earlier. I slipped through but didn't dare call out a name. A low whistle came from somewhere to the left, within the trees.

I did exactly what was in my nature to do.

I followed the sound.