Roar cursed. “Perry, I thought you knew. She ran! I sent word to Vale. I thought you’d come to help find her.”
“No.” Perry closed his eyes and tipped his head up, the muscles in his neck tight with anger. “We never got word. You stayed with her, right?”
“Of course I did, but you know Liv. She does what she wants.”
“She can’t,” Perry said. “Liv can’t do what she wants. How will the Tides survive the winter?”
“I don’t know. I’ve got my own reasons for being streaked about what she’s done.”
A dozen different questions cropped up in Aria’s mind. Who was Liv? What was she running from? She remembered the gold ring with the blue stone that Perry had stashed away. Was the ring for her? She was curious, but it seemed too personal to pry.
Roar and Perry set to work building a screen with leafy branches to form a bulwark against the wind. Whatever had happened with the girl, Liv, had left them quiet. They worked quickly together despite their silence, like they’d done this sort of thing a hundred times. Aria copied the way they wove the branches together and found that for her first-ever screen, she did a respectable job.
They couldn’t have a fire, but Roar produced a candle that gave them a flickering light to gather around. Aria had just begun devouring the bread and cheese Roar brought out when she heard the snap of a twig. It sounded close in the quiet. She turned, seeing only the screen of pine branches as she heard footsteps scuttling off in retreat.
“What was that?” She’d just started to relax. Now her heart was pounding again.
Perry bit into a piece of hard bread. “Your friend have a name, Roar?”
Aria scowled at him. How could he dismiss this lurking stranger after what they’d been through with the cannibals?
Roar didn’t answer right away. He stared off like he was still listening for movement. Then he unstopped a black bottle and took a long drink, settling back against his bag. “It’s a kid, and he’s more a pest than a friend. His name is Cinder. I found him sleeping right in the middle of the woods about a week ago. No thought to being seen or sniffed out by wolves. I should’ve let him be, but he’s young . . . thirteen maybe . . . and he’s in bad shape. I gave him some food and he’s been trailing me since.”
Aria peered at the pine screen again. She’d gotten a taste of being alone out there the night Perry had left her behind. Those hours had been filled with nothing but fear. She couldn’t imagine a boy living like that.
“What tribe’s he from?” Perry asked.
Roar took another drink before he answered. “I don’t know. He has the look of a northerner.” He glanced her way. Did she look like she was from the north? “But I couldn’t get it out of him. Wherever he’s from, believe me, I’d love to send him back. He’ll show up. He always does when his hunger gets the better of him. But don’t expect much from his company.”
Roar handed her the black bottle. “It’s called Luster. You’ll like it, trust me,” he said with a wink.
“You don’t look very trustworthy.”
“Looks can be misleading. I’m reliable to the core.”
Perry grinned. “I’ve known him his whole life. He’s full of something else to the core.”
Aria froze. She’d seen a glimpse of Perry’s smile earlier when he’d heard Roar, but now she saw it in full, directed completely at her. It was lopsided and punctuated by canines that couldn’t be ignored, but it was this fierce quality that made it so disarming. Like seeing a lion smile.
She suddenly felt like she was staring at him. She took a hasty drink from the bottle. Aria sputtered into her sleeve as the Luster rolled down her throat like lava, spreading heat across her chest. It tasted like spiced honey, thick and sweet and pungent.
“What do you think?” Roar asked.
“It’s like drinking a campfire, but it’s good.” She couldn’t look at Perry. She took another drink, hoping this one would go down without all the hacking. Another wave of fire seeped through her, heating her cheeks and settling warm in her stomach.
“You going to keep it all to yourself?” Perry asked.
“Oh. Sorry.” She handed it to him, her face growing hotter.
“How’s Talon?” Roar asked. “And Mila? She and Vale have any luck making Talon a brother?” His voice held a hint of wariness beneath the lighthearted words.
Perry sighed and set the bottle down. He ran a hand over his hair. “Mila got worse after you left. She died a few weeks ago.” He looked at Aria. “Mila is . . . was my brother Vale’s wife. Their son is named Talon. He’s seven.”
Blood rushed in Aria’s ears as she put the information together. This was the boy taken by her people. Perry was trying to rescue his nephew.
“I didn’t know,” Roar said. “Vale and Talon must be in hell.”
“Vale is.” Perry cleared his throat. “Talon’s gone. I lost him, Roar.” He brought his knees up and bowed his head, lacing his fingers behind his neck.
Even by the soft candlelight, Aria saw the color drain from Roar’s face. “What happened?” he asked quietly.
Perry’s wide shoulders drew together like he was containing something vast, keeping it trapped inside him. When he looked up, his eyes were glazed and red. In a hoarse voice, he told them a story Aria had been part of but had never heard. Of how he’d come into her world for medicines, to help a sick boy. A boy who’d been kidnapped by her people. He told Roar about their deal. Once Marron fixed her Smarteye, she’d reach her mother. He’d get Talon back and Lumina would bring Aria into Bliss.
They sat in silence after he’d finished. Aria heard only the stir of leaves when a breeze swept past. Then Roar spoke.
“I’m in. We’ll find them, Perry. Both Talon and Liv.”
Aria turned her face toward the shadows. She wished Paisley was there. She missed having her friend at her side.
Roar muttered a soft curse. “Prepare yourselves. Cinder’s back.”
A few moments later, the screen of leaves rustled then parted. A boy stood in the gap, his eyes dark and feral. He was shockingly thin. No more than a skeleton in filthy baggy clothes. He had fair skin. Nearly as fair as hers, Aria realized.
Cinder dropped beside her with a thump and leered at her through matted strands of dirty blond hair. His shirt hung so loose that Aria could see the way his collarbones stuck out like sticks.
Cinder’s gaze roamed over her face. His eyes were half-lidded with fatigue. “What are you doing out here, Dweller?” he asked suspiciously.
He sat too close. Aria scooted back. “I’m on my way home. To my mother.”
“Where’s she?”
“In Bliss. It’s one of our Pods.”
“Why did you leave?”
“I didn’t leave. I was thrown out.”
“You were thrown out but you want to go back? That’s barmy, Dweller.”
She guessed by Cinder’s expression that barmy meant something close to crazy. “I guess, when you put it like that.”
Roar tossed a piece of bread onto the ground. “Take it and be gone, Cinder.”
“It’s all right,” Aria said. Cinder might lack manners, but it was a cold night and where would he go? Out there by himself? “He can stay. It’s fine with me.”
Cinder picked up the bread and bit off a piece. “She wants me to stay, Roar.”
Aria could see his jawbone moving up and down as he chewed. “My name is Aria.”
“She even told me her name,” Cinder said. “She likes me.”
“Not for long,” Roar muttered.
Cinder looked at her, gnashing at the bread with his mouth open. Aria looked away. He was being crude on purpose.
“You’re right,” he said. “I think she already changed her mind.”
“Shut your mouth, Cinder.”
“How am I supposed to eat?”
Roar sat up. “That’s enough.”
Cinder’s smile was full of challenge. “What are you going to do? Stop feeding me? You want
this back?” He held the half-eaten bread out. “Take it, Roar. I don’t want it anymore.”
Perry reached out and plucked the bread from his hand.
Cinder turned a stunned look on him. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“You didn’t want it.” Perry brought the bread to his mouth. He stopped with it inches from his lips. “Did you? Or were you lying?” His eyes gleamed in the dark. “If you tell them you’re sorry, I’ll give it back.”
Cinder snorted. “I’m not sorry.”
The corner of Perry’s mouth lifted into a smile. “You’re still lying.”
Cinder suddenly looked panicked, his eyes darting to her and then Roar and finally back to Perry. He scrambled to his feet. “Stay away from me, Scire!” He grabbed the bread out of Perry’s hand and barreled through the gap in the screen.
A cool feeling crept up Aria’s neck as the sounds of Cinder’s getaway faded. “What just happened? Why did he call you ‘Scire’?”
Roar’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Perry . . . she doesn’t know?”
Perry shook his head.
“What don’t I know?”
He looked up at the night sky, avoiding her gaze, and took a deep breath. “Some of us are Marked,” he said softly. “That’s what the bands on my arms are. Markings. They show that we have a dominant Sense. Roar is an Aud. He can hear things more clearly and from farther away. Sometimes miles off.”
Roar gave her an apologetic shrug.
“What about you?”
“I have two Senses. I’m a Seer. Night-Sighted. I can see in the dark.”
He saw in the dark. She should have known with his reflective eyes. With the way he never stumbled at night. “And the other?”
He looked right at her, his gaze brilliant green. “I have a strong sense of smell.”
“You have a strong sense of smell.” Aria tried to process what this meant. “How strong?”
“Very. I can scent tempers.”
“Tempers?”
“They’re emotions . . . impulses.”
“You can scent people’s feelings?” She could hear her voice rising.
“Yes.”
“How often?” she asked. She’d started to tremble.
“Always, Aria. I can’t avoid it. I can’t stop breathing.”
Aria went cold everywhere. Instantly. Like she’d just taken a plunge in the ocean. She shot through the path Cinder had cleared, diving into the darkened woods. Perry came right behind her, calling her name and asking her to stop. Aria spun.
“You’ve been doing that all this time? You’ve known how I’ve felt? Have I entertained you? Has my misery amused you? Is that why you kept it to yourself?”
He pushed his hands into his hair. “Do you know how many times you’ve called me a Savage? You think I wanted to tell you I can smell better than a wolf?”
Aria’s hand shot up, covering her mouth. He could smell better than a wolf.
She thought of all the horrible feelings she’d had over the past days. Days she spent with that pathetic, sad melody going round and round in her mind. The shame she felt at menstruating. Of being terrified, a stranger in her own skin.
Was he smelling the way she felt right now?
He tipped his head to the side. “Aria, don’t be embarrassed.”
He was. He did know.
She backed away, but his hand closed around her wrist. “Don’t go. It’s not safe. You know what’s out there.”
“Let go of me.”
“Perry,” said a smooth voice. “I’ll stay with her.”
Perry looked down at her, frustration plain on his face. Then he let go of her arm and stalked off, branches snapping in his wake.
“You can cry if you like,” Roar said when Perry was gone. He crossed his arms. In the darkness, she could just make out the glint of the black bottle of Luster propped on his elbow. “I’ll even offer up my shoulder to the cause.”
“No, I don’t want to cry. I want to hurt him.”
Roar laughed softly. “I knew I liked you.”
“He should have told me.”
“Probably, but what he said is true. He can’t help knowing tempers. And would it have changed your agreement?”
Aria shook her head. It wouldn’t. Before long, she knew she’d be back to walking endless miles with him.
She sat against a tree and picked up a pine needle, breaking it into tiny pieces. It seemed obvious once she thought it out. Basic genetics. The population of Outsiders was small. Any shifts had the possibility of running rampant in such a limited pool. A drop of ink in a bucket was more potent than a drop in a lake. And with the Aether accelerating mutations, the Unity had created an environment ripe for genetic jumps.
“I can’t believe this,” she said. “You’re a subspecies. Is there anything else? Are there any other traits that have drifted? Like . . . like your teeth?”
Roar sat beside her against the same large trunk. He wasn’t as tall as Perry, she noticed. Aether light fell across the smooth planes of his profile, all straight lines and perfect proportions. He didn’t have scruff over his jaw like Perry, either.
“No,” Roar said. “Our teeth are all the same. Yours are the ones that are different.”
Aria pressed her lips together on reflex. It hadn’t occurred to her before, but he was right. Before the Unity, teeth had been uneven. Roar smiled and kept talking.
“There are some differences between the Senses. Scires tend to be tall. They’re the rarest Marked. Seers are the most common. Seers are good at looking and good-looking, but before you start wondering, no, I’m not a Seer. Just lucky.”
Aria smiled despite herself. She was surprised by how at ease she felt in his company. “What about your kind?”
“Auds?” He flashed a mischievous grin at her. “We’re said to be sly.”
“I could’ve guessed that.” She looked down at his bicep, imagining the tattoo hidden beneath his dark shirt. “How well can you hear?”
“Better than anyone I know.”
“Can you hear emotions?”
“No. But I can hear a person’s thoughts when I touch them. That’s just me, not all Auds. And don’t worry, I won’t touch you. Unless you want me to.”
She smiled. “I’ll let you know.” This was unreal. There were people who could smell emotion and hear thoughts. What was next? Aria cupped her hands, blowing warmth into them. “How can you be friends with him, knowing he . . . knows everything?”
Roar laughed. “Please don’t ever say that in front of him. He’s cocksure enough as it is.” He tilted the bottle and drank. “Perry and I grew up together, along with his sister. When you know someone that well, it’s something like being a Scire.”
She supposed it was true. She’d been sensitive to some of Paisley’s moods. Caleb’s too. “But it feels . . . imbalanced. He never talks but he gets to know what other people are feeling?”
“He’s quiet because he’s scenting tempers. Perry doesn’t trust words. He’s told me before how often people lie. Why would he bother listening to false words when he can breathe and get right at the truth?”
“Because people are more than emotions. People have thoughts and reasons for doing things.”
“Yes, well. It’s hard to follow a person’s logic if you don’t know how they feel. And you’re wrong. Perry does talk. Watch him. You’ll see he says plenty.”
She knew this. For days she’d been translating his actions into meaning. Noticing how he walked in a dozen different ways. With utter quiet. With barely contained violence. With easy animal grace.
“What about his sister?” she asked.
“Olivia,” Roar said, and then added more softly, “Liv.”
“Is she a Scire also?” Aria didn’t even like the word. It sounded like a warped version of scare.
“As strong as Perry if not more. We never could decide who has the keener nose.”
“What happened to her, Roar?”
“She was be
trothed to someone else. Someone who wasn’t me.”
“Oh.” Roar was in love with Perry’s sister. She sucked on her bottom lip, tasting the sweetness of the Luster. She didn’t want to be forward and ask too many questions, but she was curious. And Roar didn’t seem to mind. “Why not you?”
“She’s a strong Scire. She’s too valuable. . . .” Roar stared at the bottle in his hand like he was searching for the right explanation. “Blood is our currency. As Marked, we make the most skilled hunters and fighters. We overhear plans for raids and sense shifts in the Aether. Blood Lords surround themselves with people like me and Perry and Liv. When it comes to mating, they choose the strongest of their kind. If they don’t, they risk losing the Sense. Some say they risk worse.”
Aria had a hard time with how casually he’d said mating. “Couldn’t a child get two Senses with different parents? Is that what happened with Perry?”
“Yes. But it’s rare. What Perry is . . . it’s very rare.” After a pause, he added, “It’s best you don’t ever mention his parents.”
She slipped her hands into the sleeves of her coat, digging her fingers into the fur. What had happened to Perry’s parents?
“So as a Scire, Liv has to marry a Scire?” she asked instead.
“Yes. It’s what’s expected.” Roar shifted against the trunk. “Seven months ago, Vale promised her to Sable, the Blood Lord of the Horns. They’re a large tribe to the north. Ice-cold people, Sable the coldest of the lot. Vale was to receive food for the Tides in exchange for her. Half of which they may never get.”
“Because she didn’t go.”
“That’s right. Liv ran. She disappeared the night before we’d have crossed into Horn territory. It was exactly what I had wanted us to do together. I’d been thinking about it the whole way there. She left before I could ask.” Roar paused and cleared his throat. “I’ve been searching for her since. I’ve come close to finding her. A few weeks ago, I heard a couple of traders speaking of a girl who could track game better than any man. They’d met her in Lone Tree. I’m sure it was her. Liv’s not one you easily forget.”
“Why?”
“She’s tall—barely shorter than me. And she has the same hair as Perry, only longer. That alone is enough to draw attention, but she has this quality. . . . You watch her because just that will fascinate you.”
Under the Never Sky: The Complete Series Collection Page 14
