“Take good care of her,” Consul Hess said to the Guardians. “Get well, Aria.”
“Thank you, Consul Hess.”
He smiled. “No need to thank me. It’s the least I could do after all you’ve been through.”
Chapter 6
PEREGRINE
Perry pulled his satchel and bow over his shoulder and stepped outside with Talon late the next morning. Fishermen and farmers milled around the clearing. Too many people, mingling like the workday was done. Perry dropped a hand on Talon’s shoulder, stopping him.
“Are we getting raided?” Talon asked.
“No,” Perry answered. The scents rolling past didn’t carry enough panic for a raid. “Must be the Aether.” The blue swirls looked brighter than they had overnight. Perry caught glimpses of them stirring above thick rain clouds. “Your father’s probably called everyone in.”
“But it doesn’t look so bad.”
“Not yet,” Perry said. Like all the stronger Scires, he could anticipate Aether storms. The prickling sensation in the back of his nose told him the sky would still need to take a turn for the worse before it became a threat. But Vale never took chances with the Tides’ safety.
At the mercy of his growling stomach, Perry steered Talon toward the cookhouse. He noticed his nephew favoring his right leg. It wasn’t a terrible limp. Hardly even obvious. But when a pack of boys came yelling and drumming up dust, Talon stopped walking. The boys shot by. Wiry mutts, lean from work and meager meals, not illness. A few months ago, Talon had been at the head of that pack.
Perry swept his nephew up over his shoulder, hanging Talon upside down and making a show of having fun. Talon laughed but Perry knew he was putting on a show too. He knew Talon ached to run with his friends. To have his legs again.
The smell of onion and woodsmoke hung in the cool dimness of the cookhouse. This was the largest structure in the compound. Where they ate. Where Vale held gatherings in the winter months. A dozen large trestle tables took up one side, with Vale’s head table on an elevated stone platform to the rear. To the other, behind a half wall of brick, there was a cooking hearth, a row of iron stoves, and several worktables that hadn’t held food with any plenty in years.
The day’s haul ended up there, from the fields and the sea. Whatever else Perry and the other hunters managed to bring in. Everything went there to be shared among the families. The Tides were fortunate to have an underground river running through their valley. Made irrigating easy. But having all the water in the world didn’t help when the Aether storms came, scorching stretches of land. This year, their scarred fields hadn’t yielded nearly enough to fill their stores for the winter. The tribe would be eating because of Perry’s sister, Liv.
Four cows. Eight goats. Two dozen chickens. Ten sacks of grain. Five bags of dried herbs. They were just some of the things Liv’s marriage to a northern Blood Lord had bought the Tides. “I’m expensive,” Liv had joked the day she left, but neither Perry nor his best friend, Roar, had laughed. Half of the payment for her had already arrived. They expected the other half any day, after Liv reached her intended husband. They needed it soon, before winter came in force.
Right away Perry spotted a cluster of Audiles at a table in the back, bent close as they whispered. Perry shook his head. The Ears were always whispering. A moment later, he caught a vibrant green wave, bracing as cypress leaves. Their excitement. Probably someone had overheard his tussle with Vale.
Perry set Talon on the brick bar, ruffling his hair. “Brought you a weasel today, Brooke. Best I could do. You know how it’s been out there.”
Brooke looked up from the onion she chopped and smiled. She wore one of his arrowheads on a leather cord as a necklace, drawing his eyes down. She looked good today. Brooke always looked good. Her sharp blue eyes narrowed on Perry’s cheek for an instant, then she winked at Talon.
“He’s a cute little thing. Bet he tastes good.” She tipped her head toward the large pot hanging over the fire. “Toss him in there.”
“Brooke, I’m not a weasel!” Talon giggled as Perry scooped him up.
“Hang on, Perry,” Brooke said. She dished out bowls of gruel for them. “We might as well get him good and fat before we cook him.”
He and Talon took a table by the door as always, where Perry could best catch drafts from outside. They might give him a few moments of warning if Vale showed up. Perry noticed that Wylan and Bear, Vale’s best men, sat with the Auds. That meant Vale was probably hunting alone.
Perry wolfed down the barley porridge so the flavors wouldn’t linger in his mouth. Being a Scire also meant having a great sense of taste. Wasn’t always a good thing. The bland mash soaked up traces of other meals from the wooden bowl, leaving the rancy aftertaste of salt fish, goat’s milk, and turnips on his tongue. He went back for another helping because he knew Brooke would give it to him, and food was food. When he finished, he sat back and crossed his arms, feeling only mildly hungry and more than a little guilty for filling himself at the price of his sister’s happiness.
Talon had stirred his food for a while, making lumpy mounds with his spoon. Now he looked everywhere but at his bowl. It pained Perry to see his nephew looking so drawn.
“We’re hunting, right?” Perry asked. Hunting would give him an excuse to get Talon away from the compound. Perry wanted to give him the apple, Talon’s favorite. Vale always bought a few in secret just for Talon when traders brought them around.
Talon stopped stirring. “But the Aether.”