Around midday he picked up a boar’s trail, the animal’s smell strong enough to cut through his stunted nose. He headed downhill, then he told Roar the best path for driving the animal to where he waited.
They had hunted this way their whole lives. Roar could hear Perry’s directions clearly from that far, but it was more complicated for Roar to communicate with him. Mimicking natural sounds came easily to Auds, so over the years they had adapted the calls of birds, turning it into a language between them.
Perry heard Roar’s whistle now, alerting him. Be ready. He’s coming.
Perry got a shot right into the boar’s neck and then another into its heart after it fell. As he knelt and retrieved his arrows, it struck him that this was the purest use of his abilities. He’d missed the rush of doing something simple and doing it well. But his satisfaction didn’t last. As soon as Roar jogged up, Perry knew something was off.
Roar was normally a real rooster after they made a kill together, showing off and claiming he’d done all the work. Now he glanced at the boar and then closed his eyes. Angled his head in quick, sharp movements. Perry knew what was coming before he spoke.
“The Croven, Perry. A whole piss barrel of them.”
“How far?”
“Hard to tell. Seven miles or so on the wind.”
“Could be more on land, most of it hill.”
Roar nodded. “We’re looking at half a day’s lead at best.”
Perry cut the boar into strips and seared them over a fire. The Aether had roused, flowing in agitated rivers. Setting off the sting in the back of his nose. A storm would complicate things. He ate with Aria and Roar, the three of them hardly bothering to chew the meat. They’d need the strength of a meal in their stomachs to outrun the Croven. Marron’s compound was still two days away, and he knew they couldn’t stop until they reached it.
He built up the fire before they set off, adding a stack of green wood. Smoke would help mask their scents for a while. Then he staked a cut of meat he’d set aside with a stick and told Aria and Roar he’d catch up.
He found Cinder curled against the root of a tree. Dappled light shifted across the boy’s dirty face as he twitched in fitful sleep. He looked smaller. More frail without the sneering look on his face. Perry pinched the bridge of his nose as the stinging sensation flared. “Cinder.”
He shot up, disoriented, blinking and rubbing at his eyes. When he finally focused on Perry, panic flashed across his face.
“Leave me alone, Scire.”
“Steady,” Perry said. “It’s all right.” He held the stick out. Cinder glanced at it, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He wouldn’t take it, so Perry wedged the stick into the ground. He backed away a few steps. “It’s yours.”
Cinder snatched it up and sank his teeth into the meat, ripping at it in a fury. Perry’s gut clenched at the desperation in the boy’s face. This was nothing like the meal he’d just rushed through with Aria and Roar. This was true hunger. Fierce as any fight for life. Perry remembered Cinder gnawing at the bread rudely last night. He realized the boy had just been hiding the depth of his need.
He should tell Cinder what he had to say and leave. Perry didn’t want Cinder pulled into the mess he was in with the Croven. He glanced east, toward Marron’s. Roar and Aria wouldn’t get too far ahead. He could spare a few moments. Perry slid his bow off his shoulder and sat.
Cinder’s black eyes darted up, but he kept attacking his food. Perry took a few arrows from his quiver. Checked the fletching as he waited. He’d been wondering why Roar had helped Cinder. But now he understood, seeing the boy this way. Would the Tides end up like this without the second shipment from Sable?
“Why is that girl with you?”
Perry looked up, surprised. Cinder was still chewing, but the stick was clean. Not a scrap of meat left. His eyebrows were drawn together in a dark scowl.
Perry lifted his shoulders, allowing himself a smug smile. “Isn’t it obvious?” The boy’s black eyes went wide. “I’m kidding, Cinder. It’s nothing like that. We’re helping each other out of some trouble.”
Cinder swiped a grubby sleeve over his face. “But she is pretty.”
Perry grinned. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Sure you haven’t.” Cinder smiled like they’d agreed on something important. He pushed his hair away from his face, but it fell back into his eyes. It was a mess of knots. Like his own hair, Perry realized.
“What kind of trouble?” Cinder asked.
Perry let out a long breath. He didn’t have the time or energy to tell their story again. But he could skip to the part that mattered now. He sat forward, propping his arms over his knees. “You’ve heard of the Croven?”
“The flesh eaters? Yeah, I’ve heard of them.”
“A couple of nights ago, I got in a mix with them. I’d left Aria to hunt. When I came back, they’d found her. Three of them. They had her cornered.” Perry slid his hand down to the arrowhead. Pressed his finger against the sharp point. This story wasn’t easy to tell either. But he noticed the way Cinder’s expression had opened. The mask of scorn was gone. He was just a boy now, drawn in by a thrilling story. So Perry kept on.
“They were blood hungry. I could almost taste their hunger for her. Maybe because she’s a Dweller . . . different . . . I don’t know. But they weren’t going to walk away. I took two down with my bow. The third with my knife.”
Cinder licked his lips, his black eyes rapt. “So now they’re after you? You were just helping her.”