Brooke (8 page)

2
PEREGRINE

Y
ou think it’s Roar and Twig?” Gren asked, pulling his horse alongside Perry’s.

Perry inhaled, searching for traces of the riders who’d been spotted earlier. He smelled nothing but smoke.

Ten minutes ago he’d left the cave, eager for fresh air. For light and the feeling of openness and movement. What he’d gotten was a thick gray haze from the morning’s fires blanketing everything, and the stinging sensation of the Aether like soft pinpricks over his skin.

“I’d be surprised if it was someone else,” he replied. “Hardly anyone besides me and Roar knows this trail exists.”

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, a note of desperation bleeding into his voice. 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’s 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 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.

Perry stared at him, unable to speak, the silence stretching between them. 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.

Perry tensed at his sister’s memory, and his horse shied beneath him. “Whoa. Easy, girl,” he said, settling the mare. He shook his head, streaked at himself for letting his thoughts slip.

He couldn’t let himself think about Liv. Grief would make him weak—something he couldn’t afford with hundreds of lives in his hands. It would be harder to stay focused with Roar back, but he’d do it. He had no choice.

Now, as he took the switchback trail down to the protected cove below, he caught sight of Roar up ahead and told himself not to worry. Roar was his brother in every way except by blood. They’d find a way past a fight. Past what had happened with Liv.

Perry dismounted on the small beach, staying behind as the others disappeared into the dark cleft that led into the belly of the mountain. The cave was his personal torture, and he wasn’t ready to return to it yet. When he was in there, it took every bit of his concentration to quell the panic that tightened his lungs and stole his breath away.

“You’re claustrophobic,” Marron had told him yesterday. “It’s an irrational fear of being trapped in close spaces.”

But he was also Blood Lord. He didn’t have time for fear, irrational or otherwise.

He drew a breath, savoring the outside air for a few moments longer. Afternoon ocean breezes had blown away the smoky haze, and for the first time that day, he could see the Aether.

The blue currents rolled across the sky, a tempest of luminescent, twisting waves. They were fiercer than ever—more violent than even yesterday—but something else caught his eye. He saw tinges of red where the Aether churned most intensely, like hot spots. Like the red of sunrise, bleeding through the crest of a wave.

“Do you see that?” Perry said to Hyde, who jogged out to meet him.

One of the best Seers in the Tides, Hyde followed Perry’s gaze, his hawk’s eyes narrowing. “I see it, Per. What do you think it means?”

“Not sure,” Perry said, “but I doubt it’s good.”

They fell quiet for a few moments before Hyde broke the silence.

“I wish I could see the Still Blue, you know?” His gaze had moved to the horizon, across endless miles of ocean. “It’d be easier to take all of this if I knew it was there, waiting for us.”

Perry hated the defeat that gathered in Hyde’s temper, a flat, stale scent like dust. “You’ll see it soon,” he said. “You’ll be the second to see it.”

Hyde took the bait. He grinned. “My eyes are stronger than yours.”

“I meant Brooke, not me.”

Hyde shoved him in the shoulder. “That’s not right. I have twice her range.”

“You’re a blind man compared to her.”

Their debate continued as they headed into the cave, Hyde’s temper lifting, just as Perry had hoped. He needed to keep morale up, or they’d never get through this.

“Find Marron for me, and get him to the Battle Room,” he told Hyde as they stepped inside. “I need Reef and Molly there as well.” He nodded to Roar, who stood a few paces away, staring across the cave with his arms crossed. “Get him water and something to eat, and have him join us right away.”

It was time for a meeting, and Roar had information about Cinder, and Sable and Hess. In order to reach the Still Blue, Perry needed Dweller ships—he and Aria had taken one from Reverie, but it wouldn’t carry enough people—and he also needed a precise heading or the Tides wouldn’t go anywhere.

Cinder. Hovers. A heading.

Three things, and Sable and Hess had them all. But that was going to change.

Roar spoke with his back still turned. “Perry seems to have forgotten that I can hear his every word, Hyde.” He turned to face Perry—and there was that dark stare again. “Whether I want to or not.”

Anger washed over Perry. Nearby, Hyde and Gren tensed, their tempers spiking red, but Twig, who’d been with Roar for days, moved first.

He dropped the horse lead in his hands and darted to Roar, taking a fistful of his black coat. “Come on,” he said, giving Roar a nudge that was almost a shove. “I’ll show you the way. Easy to get lost around here till you get used to it.”

When they’d left, Gren shook his head. “What
was
that?”

Answers flipped through Perry’s mind.

Roar without Liv.

Roar without a reason to live.

Roar in hell.

“Nothing,” he said, too rattled to explain. “He’ll cool off.”

He headed for the Battle Room as Gren went to tend to the horses. Anxiety built inside him with every step he took, pressing on his lungs, but he fought against it. At least the darkness of the cave didn’t bother him, as it did most everyone. By some twist of fate, his Seer eyes saw even better in low light.

Halfway there, Willow’s dog, Flea, charged up, jumping and barking like he hadn’t seen Perry in weeks. Talon and Willow arrived right behind him.

“Did you find Roar?” Talon asked. “Was it him?”

Perry grabbed Talon, holding him upside down, and was rewarded with a belly laugh. “It sure was, Squeak.” Roar had shown up—in appearance, at least.

“And Cinder, too?” Willow asked, her eyes wide with hope. She had grown close to Cinder. She was just as desperate to get him back as Perry.

“No. Just Roar and Twig so far, but we’ll get him, Willow. I promise.”

Despite his assurance, Willow let loose an impressive stream of curses. Talon giggled and Perry laughed too, but he felt sorry for her. He scented the way she hurt.

Perry set Talon down. “Do me a favor, Squeak? Check on Aria for me?” She’d been drifting on pain medication since they’d arrived at the cave, the wound in her arm refusing to heal. He went to see her whenever he could, and spent every night with her in his arms, but he still missed her. He couldn’t wait until she woke.

“Sure!” Talon chirped. “Come on, Willow.”

Perry watched them dash away, Flea loping after them. He had expected the cave to frighten his nephew, but Talon had adapted—all the kids had. The darkness inspired them to play endless games of hide-and-seek, and they spent hours on adventures exploring the caverns. More than once, Perry had heard kids in hysterics over the echoing of sounds—some best left unheard.

He only wished the adults had the same spirit.

Perry stepped into the Battle Room, nodding to Marron. The ceiling was low and uneven, forcing him to duck as he made his way around the long trestle table. He fought to keep his breathing steady, telling himself the walls weren’t caving in; it only felt like they were.

Roar had arrived before him. He leaned back in his chair, his boots kicked up on the table. He held a bottle of Luster, and he didn’t look up as Perry entered. Bad signs.

Bear and Reef nodded at Perry, in the midst of a conversation about the red flares that had appeared in the Aether. Bear’s walking stick rested lengthwise on the table, spanning the distance occupied by the three men. Whenever he saw that cane, Perry remembered dragging Bear from the rubble of his house.

“Any idea why the color is changing?” Perry asked. He took his usual seat, with Marron on his right and Reef on his left. He felt strange sitting across from Roar, like they were adversaries.

Candles burned at the center of the table, the flames steady and perfect; there were no drafts back here to make them flicker. Marron had ordered rugs hung along the perimeter to create false walls and the illusion of a real room. Perry wondered if it helped the others.

“Yes,” Marron said. He began twisting a gold ring around his finger. “The same phenomenon happened during the Unity. It signaled the onset of constant storms. They held for thirty years in those days. We’ll see the color continue to change until it’s entirely red. When that happens, it will be impossible to go outside.” He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “We’ll be confined here, I’m afraid.”

“How long do we have?” Perry asked.

“The accounts from those days vary, so it’s difficult to say precisely. It could be as long as a few weeks, if we’re lucky.”

“And if we’re not?”

“Days.”

“Skies,” Bear said, propping his heavy arms on the table. He let out a loud breath, setting the candle flame trembling in front of him. “Only
days
?”

Perry tried to digest that information. He had brought the Tides there as a temporary shelter. Promised them it wouldn’t be forever—and it couldn’t be. The cave wasn’t a Pod like Reverie, with the capability to sustain itself. He needed to get them out of there.

He looked at Reef, for once craving his advice.

But then Aria stepped into the chamber.

Perry lurched to his feet so fast that his chair fell backward. He took the ten paces to her in a flash, bumping his head on the low ceiling, knocking his leg into the table, moving with less coordination than he had in his entire life.

He pulled her close, holding her as tight as he could while being careful about her arm.

She smelled incredible. Like violets and open fields under the sun. Her scent set his pulse racing. It was freedom. It was everything the cave wasn’t.

“You’re awake,” he said, and almost laughed at himself. He’d been waiting to talk to her for days; he could have done better.

“Talon said you’d be here,” she said, smiling at him.

He ran his hand over the bandage on her arm. “How do you feel?”