Roar

by Cora Carmack

  She moved closer, and then sat beside him with her legs crossed. She ran her hands over the smooth fabric of her pants, from her knees to her ankles and back again. With her head down she asked, “Is that why you fought to keep me from joining?”

  He swallowed. And there was more emotion in his voice than he wanted there to be when he said, “I would fight it still if I thought it would work. But I find now that I am loath to part with you. I’m sorry for all the times I pushed you away, for all the times I made you angry. It’s only, after I met you … for the first time in a very long time, I had no desire to throw myself into death’s path because I could, to see if I could survive. Because death meant leaving you, and that was unthinkable. Is unthinkable. Feeling this way, the way I do about you, Roar, it’s scarier than any storm I’ve ever faced.”

  She made a soft, hurt sound and burrowed closer to his side. She turned her face against his shoulder, and he felt the dampness on her cheeks. He let his hand fall to her uninjured hand resting on her knee. He would have been content just to touch, but she laced their fingers together, squeezing tightly.

  “Why go by Locke if you hated it so much?”

  He sighed and huffed out a halfhearted laugh. “You are determined to make me spill all my secrets, aren’t you?”

  She pulled away, eyes wide and head shaking, and he immediately wished he had never opened his mouth. She said, “No. Not at all. You don’t have to—”

  He pulled her back against him and said, “My secrets are yours. Every one of them.” She swallowed, and the answer didn’t please her as much as he thought it would. He continued: “When Duke took me on, I did not remember my real name. It had been so long since someone used it. Mostly I just got called kid or boy. There was a hunter on the crew then named Bear. He was tall and skinny and bald, not a speck of hair on his face. To this day, I still don’t know how he got the name Bear. Anyway, he got tired of calling me boy and started calling me Locke, since that’s where they picked me up. I was too young and intimidated to ask for a different name, so I let it go. It was maddening at first, but eventually … I did not mind it so much. It was a reminder of where I came from and the mistakes I made. A reminder to do better in the future.”

  “Oh. Poor thing.”

  He frowned. “You don’t have to feel sorry for me. That’s not why I told you any of this.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for that little boy who lost everything, including his name.”

  When she leaned her head against his shoulder, her cheek against his biceps, he did not feel like someone who had lost everything.

  “Give me something else to call you,” she murmured. “The name Locke doesn’t deserve you.”

  “I would accept handsome, strong, superior male specimen—”

  She pushed him hard enough to send him sprawling over onto his side. But she was laughing. And she could push him as many times as she wanted if he could hear that.

  “I’m serious. You’ve never thought of going by something else? You could choose anything.”

  He levered himself back up to sit beside her, then shrugged. “I’ve been Locke for nearly half my life.”

  “And you don’t think everyone who knows you would gladly call you something else if it was what you wanted?”

  “There’s no point. None of us use our real names.”

  “So choose another nickname.”

  “I can’t choose my own nickname.”

  “Fine, I’ll choose one.”

  He smiled. “Really? Let’s hear it then.”

  “Not right now. That’s too much pressure. I need time to think and choose the best option.”

  “My whole future is in your hands here, my very identity.”

  She laughed. “Thank you, that certainly reduces the responsibility,” she said and leaned her head back onto his shoulder.

  They were still leaning on each other, hands entwined, when the others came back in. He expected her to pull away, but instead she leaned in a little closer, held his hand a little tighter. Ransom’s expression was grim as he approached, and Locke asked, “How bad?”

  “It got the whole north wall and about two dozen homes. And … all the soldiers. Minister Vareeth has people searching the rubble to see if there were any more casualties. He was very grateful for our service. He offered to let us stay as long as we needed.”

  “Well, that’s good at least.”

  Ransom said, “Did any of you think this storm was more sentient than most? At the end, when we had already broken it up, it lashed out with magic one last time, trying to mesmerize me. It might have had me if I’d been distracted or injured.”

  “I felt it too,” Locke said. “Struck hard enough to send me to my knees.” Roar leaned closer to him, her bandaged hand sneaking up to lie on his thigh. “So from now we don’t let our guards down for even a moment while we hunt. I didn’t like the feel of this one. It was nearly more than we could handle.”

  “Yes, sir,” Bait said with one of his playful salutes.

  Roar rested her chin on Locke’s shoulder, and her breath played across his neck. He did not think she had any clue just how much power she wielded over him.

  “We could call you captain,” she suggested.

  He turned his head slightly and it brought their foreheads close together, their mouths nearly touching. “Pass,” he said.

  “General? Sargeant?”

  He was smiling. He couldn’t help himself. He didn’t even care when Jinx let out a suggestive whistle.

  “I told the innkeeper we would help set this place to rights. As much as we can anyway,” Duke chimed in.

  Sighing, Locke climbed to his feet and held out a hand for Roar. She took it without any argument. “Let’s get to it then.”

  * * *

  “Are you mad?” Cassius yelled, storming into his father’s rooms. The man was surrounded by a sea of food and women, and he smiled up at his son without a care. “You switched the flags? You understand we will have a mutiny on our hands, don’t you?”

  “I have men rounding up dissenters as we speak.”

  “What men?”

  The king chuckled darkly. “My men. Did you think they would all remain loyal as you sent their brothers off to die in search of your whore? After the first group of malcontents are hung from the palace walls, I doubt we will have many more.”

  “It didn’t have to be this way. With a little more time, they would have accepted us willingly. This will only foster rebellion.”

  “Now is the time to cement your position, before any of the nobles think to try it themselves. Your brother understands. He has decided to orchestrate the hangings himself. And yet my ruthless eldest son has gone soft,” he spat.

  Cassius ground his teeth. He supposed his father was letting go of all pretenses now, even the lie that Casimir was his firstborn. Of course, Mir was diving at the chance to win his father’s approval. Pretending to be the eldest over the last few weeks had gone to his head. He’d gotten a taste of power and, like all his family, he craved more.

  “Do you think I did not know your plan, boy? To get rid of me once you married the princess? You forget, I taught you how to lie, taught you to deceive. I know what my son looks like when he’s planning a betrayal. And I’ll not have another kingdom stolen from me.”

  A chasm opened up in Cassius’s chest, a horrible thought occurring to him now. “You didn’t … did you have her kidnapped?”

  The king barked a laugh, and one of the girls beside him flinched. “I should have. It was a good ploy. But, no … the skies offered me that gift. I’m merely taking advantage.”

  “And when the skies turn to fire at the Stormlord’s arrival? When the walls crumble under crushing winds? When twisters bombard us from every direction? What then?”

  “All the more reason to do away with the farce now and enjoy ourselves while we can.”

  “You are mad. The roads are teeming with remnants, all fleeing destroyed wildlands
towns. He’s picking them off one by one as he comes for us, and you are making enemies of the Pavan soldiers when we should be banding together to fight him.”

  “That can be your job. Since you seem to care so much. Perhaps now you’ll reconsider all the soldiers you’re sending off to die in search of a princess we no longer need.”

  * * *

  On the fifth day in Toleme, Locke and Ransom completed the last of the repairs to the Rock. They were sweaty and covered in soot, but it was done. They’d thanked the town’s blacksmith, paid him for his help, and retrieved horses to move the Rock to the inn. Even after the town had seen them combat that twister, they did not want to draw more attention by letting them see what the Rock could do.

  Back at the inn, Locke worked with Ransom to return the various supplies to the Rock that they’d taken out before the repairs. Jinx and Roar returned from another training session as they worked, and Locke was glad to see Roar looking eager and excited once more.

  Roar had continued to give blood sacrifices each morning and without fail, skyfire streaked across the sky each time. It had never shown any sign of developing into a storm beyond that, and neither he nor Duke had any clue why it kept happening, but he would be relieved when it was no longer an issue.

  Roar ran her hand along the newly crafted exterior of the back of the Rock. “It really is such an incredible invention.”

  “That’s all Locke,” Ransom said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at him.

  “And Duke,” Locke replied. “I thought we needed something more reliable than horses to ride into a storm, but faster than our own feet. Duke was the one to design most of the mechanics, I just found a way to bring it to life.”

  “It’s incredible,” she said. “It could revolutionize travel through the wilds.”

  “Except that it runs on illegal magic.”

  She frowned. “Yes. Except that.”

  He and Ransom loaded the last of the supplies, and Roar lingered while Jinx went inside.

  “Did you need something?” Locke asked, and Roar’s eyes tracked his movements as he lifted his shirt to wipe his face.

  “I’ve got all this excess energy after training with Jinx, and it’s making me restless. Thought I might go for a run, and I was wondering if you wanted to join me.” Her words were hesitant, broken up with unsure pauses.

  He started to ask if he could bathe first, but he supposed that would not make much sense if they were about to run. He was sure he smelled of smoke and sweat, and a small part of him wanted to look his best for their first extended time alone in days.

  “Sure. I could do with a run.”

  She grinned at him, and it nearly took him to his knees.

  “You ready?” she asked, bouncing slightly on her feet.

  He laughed. “I don’t think I have ever seen you this eager for a run. I know I haven’t.”

  She darted back a few steps, and when he followed at a lazy pace, she scurried a little farther. “Maybe I missed running with you.”

  His heart began to ease into a faster rhythm, and even though he was tired and sore from the last few days’ brutal work, he felt a burst of energy.

  “You missed getting beaten?” he asked with a smile.

  She twined her hands behind her and walked backward, pulling him along like there was a lure stuck in his chest. “I don’t know. I’m feeling good tonight. I think today might finally be the day that I leave you in the dust.”

  “Doubtful,” he growled, picking up his pace to match hers.

  “Prove it,” she said with a smile, then turned and took off at a hard sprint.

  Soul of fire, soul of rage

  No longer bound by flesh or cage,

  Soul exalted, soul made new

  Reserved for those devout and true.

  —“The Way of Souls,” a Sacred Soul hymn

  21

  Roar could hear Locke hot on her heels, and her heart beat at a frenzied pace. She was in the mood to have fun. For so long, in every part of her life, she had felt like she had been cornered into one choice or another. When she hadn’t been taking risky leaps of faith, she’d been trudging down lonely roads because there were no other options. She’d been miserable from the stress of it all, and after days of agonizing over the future, she realized she was falling into the same patterns here in the wilds. For once, she did not want to be ruled by the future. She wanted adventure. She wanted fun. And she wanted it with Locke.

  No more wavering between Rora and Roar.

  She was Roar for the foreseeable future, and that was all that mattered. Running hard, she blew past one of the village gates, heading out into the dusky twilight. The sun was down, but the sky was still spattered with purples and pinks and blues. Stars winked overhead, a multitude of dazzling lights that seemed to dance and swirl together in some faraway place.

  Snapping out of her distraction just in time, she changed direction as Locke lunged to catch her. He missed, and Roar laughed, speeding away while he refocused.

  She could not outrun him for long. She knew that. He was much faster than her, but she was counting on his fatigue and her own restlessness to give her the edge for a little while. But she had not counted on the single-minded intensity with which he pursued her. She realized very quickly, as she had to dodge him again and again, that while he might be tossing playful taunts as he trailed behind, he certainly was not playing around. Every time he came near, her body buzzed with anticipation for that moment when his hands would take hold of her. And each time she delayed the inevitable, the sensations became more intense, until she wanted him to catch her. Until she craved it.

  She did not hold out long before his huge body plowed into her from behind. Her legs tangled together as his arms wound around her chest and shoulders, and the only thing that kept her from falling was his agility. He lifted her up, spinning to keep from falling himself, whirling her around in the process. She screamed and reached her hands up to clutch at the arms that held her. They were both laughing as her feet touched back on the ground, swaying together to recapture their equilibrium.

  “You did not have to tackle me,” she breathed.

  “I didn’t tackle you. I caught you. And it was surprisingly easy. Has Jinx been going easy on you?”

  Feeling daring, she leaned back fully into him, resting her head on the curve made by the arm still wrapped around her. “If I say yes, will I be in trouble, commander?”

  He squeezed her closer and let out a barking laugh. “Commander, really?”

  She shrugged, but the movement was restricted by his hold. “How about strict overlord?”

  “Rolls right off the tongue.” The words were low and joking, but he said them so close to her ear that it felt like a slow burn had begun at the base of her spine. She wanted to have fun. And though she did not always let herself admit it, she was intrigued by the idea of having a different kind of fun with Locke.

  With Cassius, the idea of being intimate had felt frightening and overwhelming. And after his betrayal, it had made her skin crawl. But with Locke … the prospect of making herself vulnerable to him was not as scary as she thought it would be. And what little fear remained was overshadowed by curiosity and desire. She thought about that kiss in the rain, and she wanted to know what it would be like to kiss him when there was no storm distracting her, no anger between them.

  For now, though, she decided to continue playing hard to get. He had relaxed his grip, holding her softly as his chin rested lightly against the back of her head. She used her body to push him backward and then wiggled out of his hold and ran.

  When her footing slipped and she ended up on one knee, she took the opportunity to throw a fistful of sand at an approaching Locke. He dodged easily, but the glint in his eyes was so worth it. He prowled toward her, and there was a drumming in her ears, beating too fast to be her heart, surely.

  “Gonna pay for that, princess.”

  “Maybe I’ll call you Wolf,” she said as he drew nearer. �
��A predator that hunts in packs.” He made a growly sort of grunt, but didn’t protest. “Or maybe Tiger. Or Lion.”

  He lunged for her, and she rolled in the sand, throwing another handful as she went.

  “Sneaky. I could call you Fox.”

  She could have run again, probably should have, but something kept her there. She lay back against the sand as she had the first night they arrived in this town. She stretched out her arms and legs, dragging them back and forth a few times to leave an impression in the sand beneath her. It was getting darker, the sun long gone. The night was a deep violet mixed with dark blue. And out of the corner of her eye, she saw Locke moving closer. Instinct flared, and she nearly ran again. Except that … she didn’t want to. At least not all of her. She felt restless, but she knew running would not fix that. She was just nervous.

  As he eased within touching distance, he asked, “You are not going to throw sand on me again, are you?”

  She pretended to consider it for a moment. “Probably not. But I make no promises.”

  He stretched out beside her, propped up on his side, his long hair cascading over the hand he used to hold his head up. “Did I wear you out already?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head. She didn’t understand the way she was feeling. Her mind kept flicking from one thought to another, like a bird that would not perch in one place for more than a heartbeat. And she knew it was because something could happen between them tonight. And she wanted and feared it in equal measure. “We should get our horses and go for a ride,” she said, stalling. “It’s been days since I’ve felt the wind in my hair.”

  She turned her head toward him to find him smiling. “I’d like that. But it’s dark, and I don’t want to take any chances that we’ll run into a storm with just the two of us.”