Cinder’s mouth twitched in a brief smile. “All right. I’ll go.”
“Good.” Perry rested his hand on Cinder’s hat. “I’m grateful for you. Everyone is.”
Gren waited outside with a horse. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” he said, handing Perry the reins.
The compound was quiet, but across the clearing Perry saw Forest and Lark packing up their own mounts. They looked over, tipping their heads at him.
Since the night of the storm, Kirra had no longer flirted or pushed him. In the span of a week, she’d gone from interested to indifferent, and he was fine with it. He regretted every second he’d spent with her on the beach. He regretted every second he’d ever spent with her.
Perry swung up into the saddle. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he told Gren.
Marron had transformed the cave. Fires cast golden light across the vast space, and the smell of sage floated through the air, softening the dampness and salt. He had organized the sleeping areas with tents for each family around the perimeter, to match the setup of the compound. Lamps lit a few from inside, and the material glowed soft white. The wide space at the center had been left open for gatherings, with the exception of a small wooden platform. In adjacent caverns, there were areas for cooking, washing, and even for keeping livestock and storing food. People wandered from one place to the next, wide-eyed as they oriented themselves in their new home.
It looked a thousand times more inviting than anything Perry had imagined. He could almost forget he was beneath a mountain of rock.
He spotted Marron by the small stage with Reef and Bear, and walked over to join them. Bear leaned on a cane, and both of his eyes were black.
“What do you think?” Marron asked.
Perry rubbed the back of his head. As much as Marron had done, it was still a temporary shelter. Still a cave. “I think I’m lucky to know you,” he said finally.
Marron smiled. “Likewise.”
Bear shifted his weight, peering at him. “I was wrong to doubt you.”
Perry shook his head. “No. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t doubt. And I want to know what you think—especially when you think I’m wrong. But I need your trust. I always want the best for you and Molly. For everyone in the Tides.”
Bear nodded. “I know that, Perry. We all do.” He held out his hand, his grip crushing when Perry took it.
Bear wasn’t the only one in the Tides who had changed toward Perry since the storm. They didn’t argue with him anymore. Now, when he spoke, he sensed them listening and felt the power of their attention. He’d become Blood Lord day by day, through every act, every success, and even through his failures. Not by taking the chain from Vale.
Perry looked around, and a seed of suspicion took root. It was difficult to tell in this new space, but they seemed too few in number. People were missing.
“Where’s Kirra?” he asked. He didn’t see her, or any of her people.
“Didn’t she tell you?” Marron said. “She left this morning. She told me they were going back to Sable.”
“When?” Perry demanded. “When did they leave?”
“Hours ago,” Bear said. “First thing this morning.”
That couldn’t be right. Perry had just seen Lark and Forest. Why would they have stayed behind?
Fear shot through him. He spun, running back to the horse he’d left outside with Twig. Ten minutes later, he thundered up to his house. The front door gaped open. He didn’t see a soul anywhere.
Perry stepped inside, his heart pounding. Gren lay on the floor with his hands and feet bound by rope. Blood streamed from his nose, and his eye was swelling shut.
“They took Cinder,” he said. “I couldn’t stop them.”
Half an hour later, Perry stood on the beach outside the cave with Marron and Reef. He pulled the Blood Lord chain over his head and held it in his fist.
Marron’s blue eyes widened. “Peregrine?”
Nearby, Reef stared at the sea, arms crossed, unmoving.
“I can’t take this with me.” Perry didn’t need to say why. With storms striking so often and the borderlands teeming with dispersed, leaving would be more dangerous than ever. “The Tides trust you,” he continued. “Besides, you like jewels better than I do.”
“I’ll keep it,” Marron said. “But it’s yours. You’ll wear it again.”
Perry tried to smile, but his mouth twitched. He wanted to wear the chain more than ever, he realized. He wasn’t the Blood Lord that Vale or his father had been, but he was still worthy. He was the right leader for the Tides now. And he knew he could carry the weight—his own way.
He handed the chain to Marron and headed up the beach with Reef. Twig waited at the trail with two horses. The only ones Kirra had left behind.
“Let me go,” Reef said.
Perry shook his head. “I have to do this, Reef. When someone needs me, I dive.”
After a moment, Reef nodded. “I know,” he said. “I know that now.” He ran a hand over his face. “You’ve got a week before I come after you.”
Perry remembered the day he’d gone after Aria. Reef had given him an hour that lasted ten minutes. He smiled. “Knowing you, that means a day,” he said, clasping Reef’s hand. He pulled his satchel over his shoulder, and picked up his quiver and bow. Then he mounted up and set off with Twig.
Perry’s throat tightened as they rode away. Weeks ago, he’d planned to leave his tribe behind, but now it was much harder than he’d expected. Harder than it had ever felt before.
His thoughts turned to Kirra as the afternoon wore on. She’d been after Cinder all along. Her questions about the Croven and his scarred hand hadn’t been about him. She’d been probing him for information, waiting for the right time—the right way—to snatch Cinder. She’d deceived Perry, just like Vale had.
Sable was behind this. Perry didn’t want to think about what use he had in mind for Cinder. He should’ve trusted his instincts. He should’ve sent Kirra away the day she’d shown up.
Kirra’s tracks moved north on a well-worn trader’s route. They’d been riding a few hours when Perry glimpsed movement in the distance. Adrenaline sparked through him. He spurred his horse, shooting forward, hoping to cut off Lark and Forest.
His stomach seized when he saw that it wasn’t either of Kirra’s men.
Twig pulled his horse alongside. “What do you see?”
Waves of numbness rolled through Perry. He couldn’t believe his eyes. “It’s Roar,” he said. “And Aria.”
Twig cursed. “Are you serious?”
Perry’s impulse was to call out to them. They were both Auds. If he raised his voice, they’d hear him. It was what he would have done once. Roar was his best friend. And Aria was …
What was she to him? What were they to each other?
“What do you want to do?” Twig asked.
Perry wanted to run to her, because she’d come back. And he wanted to hurt her, because she’d left.
“Perry?” Twig said, jarring him back.
He urged his horse on. They rode closer, and the moment came when Aria heard the horses. Her head turned in his direction, but her eyes remained unfocused, unseeing in the dark. He watched her lips form words he couldn’t hear and then heard Twig’s answer beside him.
“It’s me, Twig.” He paused, sending Perry a worried glance. “Perry’s with me too.”
Messages passed between Auds. Heard only by Aud ears.
Perry watched as Aria looked at Roar, her face tensing in a look of plain regret. No. It was more than regret. It was dread. After a month of being apart, she dreaded seeing him.
She reached out and took Roar’s hand, and he knew they were passing a message between them. Perry couldn’t believe his eyes. They didn’t think he could see them, but he did. He saw everything.
He was in fog as they reached each other. He dismounted and felt like he was floating. Like he was seeing everything from a distance.
He didn’t know what was happening. Why Aria wasn’t in his arms. Why there was no greeting or smile on Roar’s face. Then Aria’s temper hit him, and it was so heavy and dark that he felt himself sway, overcome by it.
“Perry …” She looked at Roar, her eyes blurring.
“What is it?” Perry asked, but he already knew. He couldn’t believe it. Everything Kirra had said—everything he’d tried not to believe about Roar and Aria—was true.
He looked at Roar. “What did you do?”
Roar wouldn’t meet his eyes, and his face was white.
Rage ignited inside of him. He lunged and shoved Roar, swinging, curses pouring out of him.
Aria shot forward. “Perry, stop!”
Roar was too quick. He gave ground, and trapped Perry by the arms. “It’s Liv,” he said. “Perry … it’s Liv.”
38
ARIA
Finally Roar spoke, and Aria’s heart broke at his words.
“I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop Sable. I’m sorry, Perry. It happened so fast. She’s gone. I lost her, Perry. She’s gone.”
“What are you talking about?” Perry said, shoving Roar away. He looked at Aria, confusion flashing in his green eyes. “Why is he saying that?”
Aria didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to make it real for him, but she had to. “It’s the truth,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Perry blinked at her. “You mean … my sister?” The tone in his voice—vulnerable, tender—destroyed her. “What happened?”
As quickly as she could, she explained Hess and Sable’s deal to reach the Still Blue together, and about Talon as well. She hated to do it, but he needed to know Talon’s life was in danger. Liv, she saved for last. She felt light-headed as she spoke, breathless and detached, like when she’d been invisible in the Realms.
She hadn’t spoken for long, but when she finished, the woods felt darker, fading into the night. Perry looked from her to Roar, tears brimming in his eyes. She watched him battle with himself, struggling for focus. Struggling to keep himself together. “Talon is trapped in Reverie?” he said finally.
“Talon and thousands of people,” she answered. “They’ll run out of oxygen if we don’t get them out. We’re their only chance.”
He was moving to his horse before she’d finished speaking. “Go after Cinder,” Perry told Twig.
Aria had forgotten Twig was there. “What happened to Cinder?”
Perry swung into his saddle. “The Horns took him.” He rode up and held his hand down to her. “Let’s go!”
Aria glanced at Roar. Whatever she’d expected of today, leaving him hadn’t been part of it.
“I’ll go with Twig,” he said to her. The tension between him and Perry was still there.
Quickly she hugged Roar. Then she took Perry’s hand. He pulled her up behind him, and the horse began to move before she’d settled her weight.