Aria couldn’t tear her eyes away from Perry. She’d seen him this way before, almost serene as he dealt death. He’d been a stranger then. But this was Perry. How could he bear to do it?
His bow landed with a soft, surprising thump on the pine needles by her feet.
“I’m out,” he said. “I’ve run out of arrows.”
Chapter 35
PEREGRINE
The Croven’s putrid scents coated Perry’s throat. The bells at their belts glinted in the Aether light. They rang softly now. The chase was over. They were surrounded.
At some signal, they donned their masks and pulled on the hoods of their black cloaks. Soon it was all Perry saw. Dozens of beaked faces hovering in the gloom of the forest. Aria stood beside him, her knife out. Roar rose to his feet and leaned against the rock behind him.
The Croven had their own archers, Perry saw. Six men with bows trained on them. None of them more than thirty feet away. Would this be the way he died? It would be a fitting death. How many men had he just killed with his bow?
A heavily built man stepped forward. His mask wasn’t made of bone and skin but silver. It shone, reflecting the Aether as he lifted his head to the wind in a way Perry knew well.
“Lay down where you are, Blood Lord.”
His voice was loud and deep. A voice for ceremony. In any other situation, Perry might’ve appreciated that this man assumed him a Blood Lord. Now he only saw the sad truth in it. That he should hear himself addressed this way for the first and last time together.
“I will not,” Perry said.
Silver Mask kept silent for a long moment. Then he called one of the archers. “Strike him through the leg. Muscle only. Don’t pierce the arteries.”
Perry had come close to dying several times. But at those words, he knew this was his time. It wasn’t fear that struck him, but a crushing disappointment at all the things he hadn’t done. At all the things he knew he could do.
The archer raised his bow, his eyes steady, aiming through the Croven mask.
“No!” Aria stepped around Perry.
“Get back, Aria.” He said this, but when she took his hand, he accepted it. She moved to his side, somehow understanding that he needed her. Needed Roar there too. With the two of them, he could stand there and wait for an arrow to strike him down.
The archer hesitated, seeing their joined hands.
“Perry . . . ,” Roar said hoarsely, behind them. “Get down.”
The charge of the Aether burned in the back of Perry’s nose. It buzzed over his skin, grating and alive. A stir ran through the Croven. They lifted their masks, yelling in terror as they saw Cinder.
He strode through the Croven. Shirtless, his veins created glowing lines over his skin. He came forward, searching with his Aether blue eyes. The Croven darted out of his way with a sudden eruption from the bells.
“Cinder,” Perry said.
The boy’s eyes found him and held for a moment. Then he turned his back to Perry and raised his palms. Perry felt an updraft like the intake before a scream. He grabbed Aria by the waist and leaped over the stone outcropping, landing on Roar, as Cinder lit the night with liquid fire.
Searing flashes rolled past as the Aether let out its horrid shriek, drowning the Croven’s screams. Perry pressed his eyes closed against the burning streaks. He covered Roar and Aria as best he could, his fingers gripping the earth like they might be carried off.
Quiet came with a suddenness that thundered emptily in his ears. The night returned with a cool drift over Perry’s arms. Long seconds passed before he could lift his head. The pungent scent of burnt hair mingled with charred flesh and wood. Perry tried getting to his knees but ended up rolling to the side.
Stars. He saw stars through a vast hole in the Aether. Clear, bright stars. Around the hole, the Aether rippled in circles. Like a pebble thrown in a pond but working closer. Tightening instead of spreading. Slowly covering one star after another with its blue light.
Aria appeared over him. “Perry, are you all right?”
He couldn’t speak. Perry tasted ash and blood.
“Roar!” Aria said. “What’s wrong with him!” She thrust Roar’s hand onto Perry’s forehead.
Now Roar stared down at him. “Where are you hurt, Perry?”
Everywhere, Perry thought, knowing Roar could hear him. But mostly my throat. You?
“I’m good enough.” Roar turned to Aria. “He’s all right.”
With Aria’s help, Perry sat up. As far as he could see, the trees were burned to black stalks of carbon. The earth glittered with embers, but he saw no fire. No bodies anywhere. Everything had already burned. Cinder had bled the life out of everything except a crow mask that lay in the ash, the silver warped. Dripping like melted wax.
Nearby a half-starved figure with a shorn head lay within a circle of fine gray dust. Perry climbed to his feet. Cinder was curled into himself. He was bare. His clothes gone to ash. Not a single hair was left on his scalp. The glow of his veins faded before Perry’s eyes, seeping back into his skin.
His eyes opened to dark slits. “Did you see what I did?”
“I saw,” Perry said, his voice in shreds.
Cinder’s gaze fell on Perry’s hand. He stared at the spoiled flesh. “I couldn’t help it.”
“I know,” Perry said, seeing himself in Cinder’s black eyes. He understood the terror of being good at ending lives.
Cinder groaned, clutching at his stomach as he began to shake. His breath came in gasps as he convulsed in a tight ball. Perry took a blanket from his satchel and covered him. Then he stashed the rest of their things in the rocks. Aria took Roar as he had done earlier, supporting his injured side. Perry lifted Cinder into his arms, stunned by the coldness of the boy’s skin.