Roar and Liv (6 page)

 10 

W
e’re running out of time.

I meet Liv’s gaze across the small clearing in the woods, where we’ve stopped for water and a quick meal. I know she’s thinking the same thing.

We’ve traveled north day after day, completing a week, and then a few days more. We’ve climbed steadily and watched the oak trees turn into pines. The rolling hills turn into mountains that pierce the clouds. Now we sit only a few miles from Sable’s southern border. Since the territory is massive, the Horns’ city—Rim—is still a two-day journey from here. But if Liv and I are going to flee, it needs to happen soon.

It needs to happen tonight.

Perry drops his water skin into his satchel and rises from his spot on an overturned log. “Let’s keep moving. I want us on Sable’s land by nightfall.”

“We’ve gone far enough today,” Wylan says, waving a hand at the clearing. “This is as good a place to camp as any.”

“There’s no reason to spend another night on unprotected land,” Perry says. “If we move an hour north, we’ll be better off.”

He has a point. Once we cross into Horn territory, the odds of running into dispersed will drop. But just being this close to Sable’s land has me sweating and feeling skitty.

I look at Liv. I’m not the only one who’s anxious. She’s sitting against a rock, hugging her knees. She looks pale and fragile and fearful, and she is none of those things.

She must sense this, because she extends her legs and straightens her back. “Perry,” she says. “Just . . . one more night.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” His tone is softer with her. He pauses, watching Liv in silence. I wonder what he scents, what passes between them through their tempers, because he nods and says, “Fine. We’ll stay.”

Wylan lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Yesss,” he says. “My feet are—”

“We know,” Collins interrupts. “Your feet are killing all of us.”

Perry tugs his bow over his shoulder. “Wylan, you and I will take first watch.”

“I’ll be right there,” Wylan says. When Perry shoots him a glare, Wylan adds, “It’s not even dark yet.”

Perry starts to say something, catches himself, and leaves without a word.

Since Liv and Perry picked up human scents earlier, we don’t risk a fire. And we’ve already eaten, so there’s nothing to do but talk or sleep. I keep my eyes on Liv while Wylan and Collins prattle on about nothing. As daylight fades and the night cools, I try to read her thoughts, my heart racing though I’m sitting still.

Will she choose love or duty?

A life of hiding in the woods or as a purchased bride?

She has hard choices to make. I want to support her. This is her decision. But the part of me that wants to tie her up and haul her away with me is winning. I can’t stand by much longer. I won’t.

“Roar.”

Perry’s voice carries from a distance, but it’s sharp with urgency. I’m on my feet in an instant, scanning the trees, listening. I hear his feet pounding through the woods before I spot him. When I do, any doubt I have that we’re being attacked vanishes. Perry runs toward us at a full sprint.

“There are at least a dozen,” he says, when he reaches us. “The best chance we have is to outrun them.”

I shake my head. “It’s too late.” I hear footsteps. Behind us. Ahead of us. They’re faint, but they are everywhere. “There’s more than a dozen of them, and they’ve surrounded us.”

Perry curses, and I know we’re all absorbing the same fact: no matter what, we’ll have to fight our way out.

“Which way should we go?” Liv asks me. Her half-sword is drawn. She doesn’t look pale or fragile anymore. Collins pulls his bow off his shoulder. Wylan has turned white beside him.

I listen again, calibrating. Searching for the direction where I hear fewer footsteps. For the path, I hope, of least resistance. “This way.”

We grab our packs and sprint through the pine trees.

Darkness has fallen, heavy and thick around us, amplifying our breaths and our footsteps. We are
loud.
Any band with its share of Auds will follow us with no trouble. If they have a Scire, then they will track us by scent. Though it’s no time for these thoughts, I can’t help but recall Perry as he told Vale that we’d travel safer without Wylan and Collins adding to our numbers. He was right. If it were just me, Perry, and Liv, I know we could disappear. Perry was right again when he said we’d have been better off tonight continuing north to Sable’s territory. I don’t know why I ever question his instincts. I vow to never do it again.

Perry surges ahead, ten paces, twenty, fifty. He slows and sets up, nocking an arrow to his bow and loosing it. I follow the path of the shot and see his target. A man deep in the murky woods beyond, who flies backward and lands on the forest floor. Perry fires another arrow to the north, and another, but they come on us, steel flashing, yelling, flooding from the darkness.

A man in shredded clothes charges me, his eyes wide, feral, as they catch the dim light of the Aether. He lumbers my way, rash, thoughtless, and slashes at me with his knife. He moves as slow as a cloud. I dodge easily and strike back. My blade finds the artery at his neck and he crumples at my feet.

“Liv!” I only catch a glimpse of her blond hair before another man breaks through the trees, running at me. Swiftly I take him in, gauging his strengths as an opponent. He’s younger and more cautious than the last one, pacing as he measures me back, his feet light as they move in the practiced steps of a man comfortable with a fight. I keep my eyes on him, though I hear Liv behind me, grunting, her sword clanging. I feel my life drain away with every second that I can’t see her.

“Come on!” I yell at my attacker.

He doesn’t make his move and I won’t wait. I can’t wait anymore. I dart toward him and feel a slap on my chest as I plunge my knife into his heart.

Drawing the blade, I spin, spotting Liv just as she jams the hilt of her half-sword into a man’s face. He rocks backward, finished, but there’s another figure behind her. A man, streaking toward her with an ax. She’s blind to him. Doesn’t see him as he runs for her, the massive weapon held high.

I throw my knife.

In the instant that it flies across the night, I bargain with fate.

I’ll let her go. I’ll let Sable have her. I’ll do anything, as long as she lives.

I hit the ax man on the cheek, exactly where I aimed. He twists away and goes down. I hear two thumps: his body, his weapon. He doesn’t get back up.

Liv’s eyes lock with mine, fear flashing in them.

“Roar, go!” Perry yells from uphill. Wylan and Collins are with him. A cluster of men have gathered in the hundred yards that separate us. I count them. Nine.

We’re strong fighters, each of us, but those are still a fool’s odds—and I’ve just sworn to trust Perry’s instincts. Even if it means going against mine by leaving him to this fight.

“Perry!” Liv screams.

“Olivia,
run
!” he yells again.

There’s only one thing to do and Liv knows it too.

We run.

 11 

L
iv and I sprint for a solid hour, and then we stop. She scents. I listen. And though it’s clear that we’re out of danger, we run for a half hour more.

When we finally stop for good, I bend over my knees. My shirt is heavy with sweat. My legs shake under my own weight.

“Do you think they made it?” Liv asks, out of breath. “Do you think Perry’s all right?”

He has to be, but I can’t seem to find words to tell her that.

She looks at me. “Are
you
all right?”

My hands are shaking, too. Almost every part of me is shaking. All I see is the man running at her with the ax.

“Roar,” she says. “Talk to me.”

Running has given me a stitch in my side. A dull ache that keeps me from uncurling my back all the way when I try to straighten up. “How could I be all right after what almost happened back there, Liv?”

She looks into the woods, and I know she’s remembering. “I didn’t see him. I didn’t know he was there.”

“Do you know how close that was? He was barely two feet away from you. What if my aim had been off? What if I’d missed?”

She shakes her head. “You never miss.”

“Olivia, that is not the
point.
”

“Roar . . . you’re hurt.”

“I’m not hurt! I am
rage.
I want to go back there so I can kill him again.”

“I meant you’re bleeding,” she says. “That kind of hurt.”

“I am?” I look down at myself. “Where?”

“I don’t know,” Liv says. “There’s blood on your face.” She steps closer and runs her hands over my cheeks, her eyes drifting over me. “I don’t see anything.”

Then I feel it—a sting on my chest—and I remember the slap I took earlier. I pull the collar of my sweaty shirt away from me, trying to see the cut.

“Here, Roar. Let me see.” Liv yanks the hem up. Over my head. Off. The cool night against my skin feels like heaven. Liv’s fingers skimming over my chest feel even better.

I suck in a breath as the sting flares. Peering down, I watch her thumb run across a nick that’s about two inches long. Right over my heart, but shallow.

“It’s nothing,” she says with relief. “Barely a scratch.”

I knew that—I hardly feel it—but I can’t resist. “So I get ‘barely a scratch’ when I’m hurt, but Perry gets a half-hour examination?”

“No,” Liv says. “You get this.” She wraps her arms around me and kisses me. It’s a long kiss, and more than a little desperate. We’re both still scared, but my hands grow surer on her body. It’s not long before we’re both breathing fast again.

“Liv,” I say. “I wanted you to be able to choose on your own. I didn’t want to force you. I haven’t asked because I never want to put pressure on you—”

“Shhh . . .” she says. “I know, Roar.”

I rest my forehead against hers. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Her gaze drops to my mouth, and I feel her breath when she whispers, “I love you, Roar. I always will.”

We find a place to burrow together in the shelter of a pine tree, hidden beneath branches that look timeless. Our nerves are still with us, but there’s something more now. A pull that’s always been between us. That’s only gotten stronger with every day that I’ve known her. I hold her and tell her about all the days we’re leaving behind us, calling up stories, all the memories that are ours, until her laughter fades to the quiet rhythm of her breath as she sleeps.

Then I kiss the top of her head, feeling steady. Feeling full.

The past is behind us now. Tomorrow, we start our future.

I know she’s gone before I open my eyes. I know because I’m calling for her as I wake and look around me. Her satchel is gone, her sword and sheath, but I still feel the weight of her head against my chest and the warmth she left behind.

I call for her, yelling, though I know it won’t matter. Liv made her choice. She didn’t pick me or Sable or the Tides. She chose time. I don’t know how I’m sure, but I am. Liv always runs when she needs to think.

I call her name anyway, yelling to the trees and to the Aether. I don’t stop until I lose my voice and no sound comes out of me anymore. Then I pick up my satchel and pull it over my shoulder.

I’ll give her time, but I won’t give up. Ever.