“I don’t know.” The wind had risen again, moving through the trees with a soft hiss. On the cool air, he caught human scents. Fear blasted through him, sparking in his veins. “Reef—”
Beside him, Reef cursed. “I got it too.”
They ran back to the eastern post. The rocky perch would give them the high ground. Twig reached them before they got there, his eyes frantic. “I was coming after you. Hyde’s warning the compound.”
“Do you hear them?” Perry asked.
Twig nodded. “They’ve got horses, and they’re coming at a full gallop. Thunder’s quieter.”
Perry pulled his bow off his shoulder. “We’ll make a stand here and slow them down.” A swift approach in the middle of the night meant one thing: an attack. He needed to buy the tribe some time. “Take the near range,” he told Hayden and Reef. “I’ll take the long.” He was the strongest archer among them, his eyes best suited to the dimness.
They spread out, finding cover among the trees and rocks along the overlook. His heart felt like a fist pounding inside his chest. The grassy meadow below looked as smooth and calm as a moonlit lake.
Was Wylan returning with a larger band to fight for the compound? Were the Rose and Night tribes attacking with their thousands? Suddenly he thought of Aria, lying on the bed in Vale’s room, and then Talon, snatched away into a Hovercraft. He hadn’t protected either of them from harm. He couldn’t fail the Tides.
His thoughts disappeared when the earth began to rumble beneath his feet. Perry nocked an arrow, instinct taking over as he drew his bow. Seconds later the first riders broke through the trees. He aimed for the man at the center of the charge and loosed the bowstring. The arrow struck the man in the chest. By the time he twisted sideways and fell from the horse, Perry had another arrow nocked. He aimed and fired. Another rider down.
The cries of the attackers broke the silence, raising the hair on his arms. He saw roughly thirty mounted raiders below, and now he heard the whistle of arrows flying past him. Ignoring them, he focused on finding the nearest man and firing. One after another, until he’d gone through his quiver and then Reef’s, with only one arrow that corkscrewed left and missed its mark because of damaged fletching, he was sure.
He lowered his bow and looked at Hayden, who was sighting down an arrow, scanning the field below for raiders. No one else came into view, just their horses, galloping off, riderless.
It wasn’t over, though. Seconds later a flood of people emerged from the woods, charging on foot.
“Hold them back as long as you can,” Perry ordered Hayden and Twig. Then he tore for home with Reef. They dug in, feet churning over the earth, pushing themselves to run faster. The compound appeared ahead—already crawling with the movements of people climbing to the rooftops and pulling the gates between the houses closed.
Perry sprinted into the clearing and spotted Brooke on top of the cookhouse, bow in hand.
“Archers up!” she yelled. “Archers up now!”
People pumped water from the well into buckets, preparing for fires. They’d brought the animals within the protection of the walls. Everyone moved as they should, as they’d practiced.
Perry tore up to the roof of the cookhouse. Against the pale tinge of dawn on the horizon, he saw the swarm of raiders tearing upslope. He put them at less than a half a mile away, and two hundred in number. The Tides had the fortified position, but as he saw the horde of people streaming toward the compound, he didn’t know if the tribe could hold them off.
The first arrows soared toward them, cracking roof tiles around him with sharp pops. Twig appeared at his side with a full quiver and a shield, giving him cover. Perry took his bow and set to defending his home. He’d done this plenty of times before, but never as the one in charge. The realization came on him like a quiet madness, slowing time, making his every move complete, efficient, sure.
Fire lit bright points of light against the rising dawn. A blazing arrow sliced past him, landing on the crates by the cookhouse. Perry adjusted his aim to the archers trying to set fire to the compound. His arrows—and those of Brooke and the Tides’ other archers—sheared through the charging mob. Some raiders fell into the trenches he’d had excavated and covered, but still they kept coming, too many in number. He watched as they split into smaller bands, swinging wide to circle the compound.
Men were climbing the gates, chopping at them with axes. Perry fired his last arrow, spearing one of them through. Not enough. Too late. He heard a splintering crash and saw the gates split open. They’d been breached—and they were burning. Smoke wafted from the stables, and from the crates by the cookhouse.
Perry climbed down from the roof, drawing his knife as he leaped off the ladder. He drove it into a man’s gut as he ran past. Voices he recognized screamed around him. He heard them faintly, no thought in his mind but finding the next attacker, the moment of hesitation, the false step, and seizing it.
In flashes, he saw Reef fighting nearby, his braids swinging in a blur. He saw Gren and Bear. Rowan, who’d resisted learning a weapon. Molly, whose life had been spent healing wounds.
Perry caught the glimpse of a black hat moving across the clearing. Cinder. A man with braided hair like Reef’s snagged him by the shoulder, yanking him off his feet. Perry watched him cower, powerless, though he wasn’t. Not a person there had more power, but Cinder wilted and didn’t fight back. Willow darted forward suddenly and plunged a dagger into the man’s leg. She took Cinder’s hand and pulled him away, running into the nearest house.