Aria’s mind whirred as she followed Liv. How would Sable move his entire tribe of thousands to the Still Blue? Not just people, but the provisions they’d need, while staying nimble enough to avoid Aether storms? She couldn’t figure out how he’d manage it. Maybe that was why he hadn’t done it yet.
Liv stopped in front of a slanted door with peeling red paint. The din of conversation drifted to Aria’s ears. “If Roar’s anywhere, he’s here.”
As they stepped inside, Aria took in the long tables packed with men and women. The honey-sweet smell of Luster hung in the musty air. “A bar.” She shook her head, but had to admit it was a good place to start. The first time she’d met Roar, he’d had a bottle of Luster in his hand. She’d seen the same thing many times since.
Roar wasn’t there, but they found him just two stops later. He sat at a table in a dark corner, alone. When he saw them, he winced and dropped his head.
He was still slouching as Aria walked up, his hands in fists on the table.
She sat down across from him. “You made me worry,” she said, striving for levity. “I hate worrying.”
He peered up at her with bloodshot eyes and flashed a quick, tired smile. “Sorry.” Then he glared at Liv, who’d taken a seat beside him. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting married?”
Liv could barely keep the smile from her lips. She reached over and rested her hand on top of Roar’s. He jolted, drawing away, but she held him in a tight grip.
Seconds passed. Roar went from staring at her hand to staring into her eyes, his face transforming from lost to found. From broken to whole.
Aria felt her throat tighten, and she couldn’t look at him anymore. Across the dimly lit bar, a man with sallow skin met her eyes, his gaze holding for a moment too long.
“Liv,” she warned quietly. They were being watched.
Liv drew her hand away, but Roar didn’t move. His eyes glossed with tears. He was holding his breath. Holding on to the last of his self-control.
“You almost killed me,” he whispered hoarsely. “I hate you, Liv. I hate you.”
It was such a lie. It was as far from the truth as words could be. Here, among Sable’s people, it was all he could say.
“I know,” Liv said.
A sour-faced older woman by the bar cut her eyes at Aria. Suddenly everyone seemed to be watching and listening. “We have to get out of here,” she whispered.
“Liv, you need to leave,” Roar said quietly. “Right now. It’s too much of a risk for you to stay. He’ll know how you feel.”
Liv shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t change anything. He knew the minute you showed up.”
Aria leaned toward them. “Let’s go,” she said, just as Sable’s guards burst through the door.
Aria and Roar were stripped of their knives and hauled back through the city streets. Seeing them treated like captives, Liv yelled and flew into a fury that fell just short of drawing her half-sword, but the guards didn’t relent. Sable’s orders, they told her.
Aria exchanged a worried look with Roar as they approached Sable’s looming fortress. Liv had said that Sable knew the truth of her feelings for Roar. She hadn’t seemed concerned. Their marriage was arranged; it had never been about love. But a hard pit of worry settled in Aria’s stomach.
They were taken past the great hall—now empty and silent—and through the winding corridors to the dining room with the bramble centerpiece and the rust-colored drapes. Sable sat at the table, talking with a man Aria recognized. He was bedraggled, spoons and trinkets hanging from his clothes. His teeth were few and crooked.
He looked vaguely familiar, like a figure she’d seen in a dream—or a nightmare. Then she remembered. She’d caught a glimpse of him during her Marking Ceremony. He was the gossip who’d been there the night she’d been poisoned.
A single thought blared inside her mind.
This man knew she was a Dweller.
When he saw them, Sable pushed back his chair and stood. He looked briefly at Liv and Roar, his expression even, almost disinterested, before turning to focus on her.
“Sorry to spoil your fun this afternoon, Aria,” he said as he walked toward her, “but Shade here has just shared some interesting facts about you. It seems I was right. You are unique.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs as he stopped in front of her. She couldn’t look away from his piercing blue eyes. When he spoke again, the cutting tone in his voice sent a chill up her spine. “Did you come here to steal what I know, Dweller?”
She saw only one possible move. One chance. She had to take it.
“No,” she said. “I’m here to offer you a deal.”
29
PEREGRINE
I hate this,” Kirra said.
Perry watched Kirra brush sand off her hands as he took a drink from his water skin. “You hate sand? I’ve never heard anyone say that.”
“You think it’s ridiculous.”
He shook his head. “No. More like impossible … like hating trees.”
Kirra smiled. “I’m indifferent toward trees.”
Along the dunes, their horses tugged at the sea grass.
They’d spent most of the day with Marron, assigning Kirra’s people to different tasks. Then Perry had shown Kirra his northern borders—he could use her people’s help on watch as well. Now they’d stopped for a quick rest along the coast before returning to the compound.
They needed to get back soon—a storm was building from the north—but he wanted just a few more minutes of not being Blood Lord.