A stab deep inside his nose had him looking up. The Aether had begun to take the shape of a massive whirlpool. The storm would come soon and it would strike hard.
He slid the knife back into his sheath, his muscles seizing as he heard a muffled cry.
Aria.
Chapter 34
ARIA
Aria pulled into a crouch as a third man appeared, dropping from another tree close by, only twenty paces off. She clutched Talon’s knife, ready to fight, but he didn’t run toward her. He darted toward the tree where the dead man hung. Fear shot through her. He wanted the horn. If he alerted the rest of the Croven, it wouldn’t just be her death. It would be Marron’s men. Roar. And Perry.
She waited until he neared the base of the tree before she ran after him. Aria didn’t feel her legs moving beneath her. She knew she’d picked the right moment. He was climbing, his hands occupied, and his back turned to her. She’d used speed and surprise to her advantage just as Roar had taught her.
It should have been perfect. But with steps to go, she realized the only lethal targets she knew were along the front of the body. She thought of reaching around for his jugular, but he was too far off the ground.
She couldn’t turn back. He heard her, his head whipping around. For an awful second, their eyes met. Roar’s voice burst into her mind. Strike first and fast. But where? On the leg? His back? Where?
The man pushed off the tree, falling toward her. She tried to raise her blade. She intended to do it. But he came down on her in a blur.
Aria landed on her back, the air driving out of her chest in one heave. A muffled groan burst out of her. He was on top of her. She braced for a knife in her side. For a blow across the face. She was ready, but he shuddered and then went limp.
She’d killed him.
Waves of panic blared through her at the feel of his hair strewn over her eyes, at his weight pressing down on her. It took three tries to bring air into her lungs. When she finally did, the odor of him was so foul, she choked back a rise of nausea. Warmth seeped across her stomach. She couldn’t move.
A face appeared above her. A girl. She was a wild-eyed thing, but pretty. She scrambled up the tree, slipped the horn around her neck, jumped to the ground, and ran off.
Aria pushed her shoulder back with all the strength she had. It was enough to free her arm. With another push, she rolled the man off. She wanted to shoot away from him. She couldn’t do anything except feed her starved lungs.
Another Croven came, a larger figure, suddenly there, crouching at her side. Aria groped through the dirt for her knife, hearing Roar in her mind again. Never let go of your blade.
“Steady, Aria. It’s me.”
Perry. She remembered he was wearing a cap, hiding his gold-streaked hair.
“Where are you hurt?” His hands ran over her stomach.
“It’s not me,” she said. “It’s not mine.”
Perry pulled her into his arms, cursing softly, saying he’d thought it had happened again. She didn’t know what he meant. She wanted to stay pressed close to him. She’d just killed a man. His blood was all over her, making her stomach shake. But she pulled away.
“Perry,” she said. “We have to find Roar.”
Before they were on their feet, the blast of the horn shattered the silence.
They ran through the darkened woods together, knives in hand, coming upon a body lying facedown. Aria’s knees weakened. She knew Roar’s proportions well, had spent the past days watching him, measuring him so she could dodge his strikes.
“It’s not him,” Perry said. “It’s Gage.”
Roar called softly from a distance. “Here, Perry.”
They found him sitting against a tree, one leg outstretched, an arm propped on his other knee. Aria fell to her knees at his side.
“There were five of them. They got Mark right away. Gage and I managed four. He went after the one who ran off.”
“Gage is dead,” Perry said.
A pool of blood glistened beneath Roar’s leg. Aria saw the tear in his dark pants at his thigh. The skin was split open, the muscle beneath as well. Blood leaked steadily out of the wound, shiny under the blue Aether light. “Your leg, Roar.” She pressed her hands on his leg to stop the flow of blood.
Roar’s face twisted with pain. Perry pulled a lash of leather from her satchel and tied it above the wound, his hands moving swiftly. “I’ll carry you.”
“No, Peregrine,” Roar said. “I hear them. The Croven are coming.”
Aria heard it too. The bells were ringing. The Croven were moving, chasing them, undeterred by the storm.
“We’re getting you back to Marron’s first,” Perry said.
“They’re too close. We won’t get there in time.”
Cold raced down Aria’s neck. She stared into the trees, imagining sixty cannibals sweeping toward them in black cloaks.
Perry swore. He handed Aria his satchel, bow, and quiver. “Don’t fall more than three feet behind me.” He hoisted Roar up, slinging an arm over his shoulder as he’d done with Cinder. They ran, Perry half carrying Roar, as the bells trilled in her ears. She stumbled downslope, the pealing of the bells maddening.
Perry scanned the trees, his eyes bright and wide. “Aria!” he yelled, turning toward an outcropping of rocks. He set Roar down and took his bow and quiver from her.
She crouched behind the rocks, breathless, shoulder-to- shoulder with Roar. Perry stood at her other side, unleashing a barrage of arrows, one after another, never stopping. Shouts of alarm erupted from the night. The Croven flung their last words at the sky. But still the bells rang louder.