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He had hunted these woods with Roar since they were kids. They had killed their first buck together not far from here. Perry knew every bend on this path, which cut through land that had once been his father’s, then his brother’s, and then—half a year ago when he’d become Blood Lord—his.
It had changed, though. In the past months, Aether storms had started fires that sheared through the hills, leaving wide, charred stretches. The temperature was too cold for late spring, and the smells of the wood were different too. The scents of life—earth, grass, and game—seemed buried beneath the acrid stench of smoke.
Gren tugged his brown cap down. “What are the odds they have Cinder with them?” he asked. Cinder had been kidnapped while under Gren’s watch, and he hadn’t forgiven himself.
“Good,” Perry said. “Roar always comes through. ”
He thought of Cinder, of how weak and frail the boy had been when he’d been taken. Perry didn’t want to think about what was happening to him in Sable and Hess’s hands. They had joined forces, Horns and Dwellers, and abducted Cinder for his ability to control the Aether. He was key to reaching the Still Blue, it seemed. Perry just wanted him back.
“Perry. ” Gren reined in his horse. He angled his head, turning to better catch sounds with his keen ears. “Two horses. Riding hard right toward us. ”
Perry couldn’t see anyone yet as he scanned the trail ahead, but it had to be them. He whistled to let Roar know he was there. Seconds passed as he waited for Roar’s answering call.
None came.
Perry cursed. Roar would have heard and whistled back.
He swept his bow off his shoulder and nocked an arrow, his gaze never leaving the bend in the path. Gren drew his bow as well, and they fell silent, bracing for anything.
“Now,” Gren said murmured.
Perry heard the horses, thundering closer. He drew his bowstring back, aiming at the trail, as Roar tore around a stand of birches.
Perry lowered his bow, trying to sort out what was happening.
Roar approached at a gallop, his black mount kicking up clods of dirt. His expression was focused—cold—and it didn’t change when he spotted Perry.
Twig, one of the Six like Gren, rounded the bend behind him. Like Roar, he rode alone. Perry’s hope of getting Cinder back crashed.
Roar rode hard until the last moment, and then checked his mount sharply.
For a long moment, Perry stared at him, unable to speak. He hadn’t expected to look at Roar and think Liv, though he should have. She had belonged to Roar, too. The loss landed like a blow to Perry’s stomach, as hard as it had days ago when he’d first learned.
“Good you’re back safe, Roar,” he said finally. His voice sounded strained, but he got the words out at least.
Roar’s horse stamped in agitation, tossing its head, but Roar’s gaze held steady.
Perry knew that hostile look. It had just never been directed his way.
“Where have you been?” Roar asked.
Everything about that question was wrong. The accusing tone in Roar’s voice. His implication that Perry had failed in some way.
Where had he been? Looking after four hundred people who were withering away in a cave.
Perry ignored the question, asking his own. “Did you find Hess and Sable? Was Cinder with them?”
“I found them,” Roar said coldly. “And, yes. They have Cinder. What are you going to do about it?”
Then he put his heels to his horse and rode away.
They returned to the cave without a word. The awkwardness clung to them, as dense as the smoke hanging over the woods. Even Gren and Twig—best of friends—said little to each other, their usual banter banished by the tense mood.
The hour of silence left Perry plenty of time to remember the last time he’d seen Roar: a week ago, in the eye of the worst Aether storm he’d ever been in. Roar and Aria had just come back to Tide territory after spending a month away. Seeing them together after weeks of missing Aria, Perry had lost his mind and attacked Roar. He’d swung his fists, assuming the worst of a friend who had never once doubted him.
Surely that contributed to Roar’s dark temper, but the real cause was obvious.
Liv.
