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The boy was methodically massaging his hands—something he’d been doing more often. Patryn said to wait until after breakfast to start studying, but hostility still hung between them. They had to stop lashing out at each other. Saren had no idea how to approach the situation, either. He’d never had any friends before. Usually, whenever he was upset, the only receiver of his rage was the four walls of his bedroom. He didn’t discuss things like those characters he’d read about in the few fiction novels Patryn let him have.

Still focused on his work, Ryx ignored his presence but absolutely was scenting the space. A tiny flare of his nostrils was the only notion of recognition.

Saren tried to see things from his perspective. How would he feel if their roles were reversed? Scared, surely. Trapped as well. The unknown surrounding his stay in New Grove would absolutely eat him alive. It was hard enough being him—Saren couldn’t imagine being anyone else. But he could relate to an extent. Not that he ever felt trapped per se, but he was alone. Left out of more things than he was included in. And his entire future was scored away by others. He had little say in anything he did, even down to what clothes he wore.

So. Maybe there was some merit to Ryx’s rage.

Saren just didn’t want to be the receiver of it anymore.

“Ryx,” he said gently. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did last night.”

The boy went still, clenching his fists.

“It’s difficult for me to control my emotions. I try to keep them inside, as Patryn taught me, but sometimes they come out. I’m…alone a lot. There’s no one ever around to hear what I have to say.” Saren took a breath and dropped his gaze to the floor. “I’ll try to be a better friend, if you’ll let me.”

A long pause followed. Pregnant with anticipation, Saren inched deeper inside the room. Ryx sighed and stared out the single window across from his bed. “People hear me,” he whispered. “Many hear me. No one listens.”

“I will,” Saren immediately chirped. He cringed over his eagerness.

“People…don’t like words. Emotions.”

He wasn’t wrong. Unless they were being taken as sustenance, emotions were a weakness. “I like them.”

Snorting, Ryx finally swiveled to look at Saren. The boy skimmed over him as if looking for a lie. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

Ryx nodded and waved his hand. “Friends…fine.”

Beaming from ear to ear, Saren rushed over and plopped down beside Ryx. “Great. Now that that’s out of the way, we can eat breakfast and start your tutoring. Patryn wants you to speak properly and read and write. Just wait, Ryx, you and me are going to be best friends. I know it.”

Ryx flopped backward on the bed, threw his arm over his eyes, and groaned.

“You’re going to love me one day, you’ll see.”

Even though his face was covered, Saren saw the blush creeping up Ryx’s cheeks.

6

Saren

Age Fifteen

A cigarette was tucked behind Ryx’s ear.

Saren reached forward and snatched it. Ryx watched with dry amusement as he made a big ordeal of stomping it into dust. The paper fluttered away with the manufactured wind.

“I’ll just get another one,” Ryx said and hoisted himself up into their tree.

It used to be Saren’s favorite place outside of the library, but now that he’d had a full year to share it with someone else, he stopped referring to it as his. Everything was theirs. Patryn had agreed after those first few months for them to share a room. Saren had proposed it as necessary to keep Ryx’s tutoring fluid, but he was tired of being alone. They’d taken apart the frame in Ryx’s bedroom and hauled it all into Saren’s much larger one so they could sleep beside each other. He never got tired of it, either. Falling asleep with Ryx’s scent in the air was better than anything.

He never did find the right words for the perfume, only that it was exclusively Ryx. Smoke and herbal, wild and vast like the Barrens. It was the scent Saren woke up thinking about and went to sleep dreaming about.

They were inseparable. Once Ryx could speak properly, endless doors of personality opened to him. Although he still had little interest in art, the boy liked making things. He was interested in science and biology, and he asked Saren to read to him almost every day. Ryx was smarter than he originally thought, funny, and so brave. That very bravery was how he kept managing to obtain cigarettes.

“They’re disgusting,” Saren grumbled, throwing his leg over the thick branch and shimmying to sit beside Ryx. Every day that passed, he felt this horrible urge to be as close as possible. It terrified him, but never stopped him. “One of these days, Patryn is going to whip you for stealing his things.”

The long strands of the boy’s hair trickled over Saren’s forearm as he tilted his head slyly. “Who said I’m stealing them from Patryn?”