Through the Ever Night (16 page)

“It doesn’t look that bad,” she said. She knew what it was like in Reverie. No one had scars. No one even had scratches. But she couldn’t believe what she was saying. Was she really consoling
Soren
?

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Not bad? When did you get to be so funny, Aria?”

“Recently, I guess. You know, they’re all scarred on the Outside. You should see this one guy, Reef. He’s got this deep scar across his cheek. It’s like a zipper running through his skin. Yours is … I mean, you can barely see it.”

Soren narrowed his eyes. “How’d he get it?”

“Reef? He’s a Scire. Those are Outsiders who … never mind. I don’t know for sure, but my guess is that someone tried to cut his nose off.”

Her voice rose at the end, making it sound like a question. She was trying to seem unfazed, but the brutality of the outside world seemed even more pronounced in such an elegant place. Aria studied his scar more closely. “Can’t you get your father to hide that for you in the Realms? Wouldn’t it just be simple programming?”

“
I
could do it, Aria. I don’t need my father to do anything in here.” His voice rose almost to a yell. Then he shrugged. “Anyway, why bother? I can’t hide it in the real. Everyone knows I look like this. They know
,
and they won’t ever unknow it.”

Soren wasn’t the same at all, she realized. His usual smug expression looked forced, like he was trying too hard to keep it there. She remembered that Bane and Echo—his closest friends—had died in Ag 6 the same night as Paisley.

“I can’t talk about what happened that night, to anyone,” he said. “My father says it would threaten the safety of the Pod.” He shook his head, pain flitting across his face. “He blames me for what happened. He doesn’t understand.” Soren looked down at his hand, still gripping the seat beside him. “But you do. You know I didn’t do anything to you on purpose … don’t you?”

Aria crossed her arms. As much as she wanted to blame him for what he’d done to her, she couldn’t. She’d learned about the disease in her mother’s research files. After hundreds of years in the Realms and the safety of the Pod, some people, like Soren, had lost the ability to cope with real pain and stress. He’d behaved the way he had in Ag 6 because of DLS. She understood—but she also couldn’t let him off easy.

“I feel like that was an apology in disguise,” she said.

Soren nodded. “Maybe,” he said, sniffing. “Actually, it was.”

“Apology accepted. But don’t
ever
touch me again, Soren.”

His eyes flicked up, the look in them relieved, vulnerable. “I won’t.” He straightened and ran a hand over his head. The softness she’d seen vanished, replaced by a smirk. “Did you know not everyone has DLS? I’m part of the crazy group. How’s that for luck? Doesn’t matter. I’m getting the meds. A couple of weeks and I’ll be ready.”

“What
meds
? And ready for what?”

“Experimental cures so I won’t go mental again. And immunization to outside diseases. They give them to Guardians who work on external repairs in case their suits rip or break. Once I have them, I’m coming out there. I’m done with this.”

Aria gaped at him. “Out
here
? Soren, you have no idea how dangerous it is. It’s not like going to a Safari Realm.”

“Reverie’s
breaking
, Aria,” he snapped. “We’re all coming out there sooner or later.”

“What are you talking about? What’s happening to Reverie?”

“Promise to help me on the Outside and I’ll tell you.”

Aria shook her head. “I’m not helping—”

“I could show you Caleb and Rune. Even the Savage kid you’re always asking about.” Suddenly his back straightened. “Gotta go. Time’s up on the scramble.”

“
Wait
. What’s wrong with Reverie?”

He grinned, tipping his chin up. “If you want to know, then come back,” he said, and fractioned out.

Aria blinked at the space where he’d been standing, and then at the empty opera hall. An icon flashed up on her Smartscreen, taking the spot next to the one for Hess.

It was the white mask of the Phantom of the Opera.

I
t’s been a week,” Reef said. “You ever going to talk about it?”

Perry leaned his elbows on the table. The rest of the tribe had cleared out of the cookhouse after supper hours ago, leaving only the two of them. The sound of crickets chirping at the night carried to his ears, and shafts of cool Aether light slanted into the darkened room.

Perry ran his finger across the top of the candle between them, playing with the flame. When he went too slowly, it hurt. The trick was to go quickly. To not stop.

“No. I’m not,” Perry answered, keeping his gaze on the flame.

Over the past days, he’d cleaned and gutted fish until the smell of the sea seeped into his fingers. He’d stayed out on night watch until his eyes grew bleary. He’d fixed a fence, then a ladder, and then a roof. He couldn’t ask the Tides to work night and day if he didn’t do so himself.

Reef crossed his arms. “The tribe would’ve turned against you if you’d left with her. And they would’ve turned if she’d stayed. She was smart. She saw that. Couldn’t have been an easy decision for her. She did the right thing.”

Perry looked up. Reef’s gaze was direct. In the candlelight, the scar on his face looked deeper. It made him look cruel. “What are you doing, Reef?”

“Trying to draw out the poison. You’ve got it inside you, just as she did that night. You can’t keep carrying this around, Perry.”

“Yes. I can,” he shot back. “I don’t care what she did, or why, or whether it’s wrong or right, understand?”

Reef nodded. “I understand.”

“There’s nothing more to say.” What good did sitting around and talking ever do? It wouldn’t change anything.

“All right,” Reef said.

Perry sat back. He took a drink and grimaced. The well water hadn’t recovered since the storm; it still tasted like ash. The Aether had a way of invading everything. It destroyed their food and burned their firewood before it ever reached their hearths. It even seeped into their water.

He’d done what he could by sending word to Marron. Now he had no move to make. No way to get Talon out of Reverie. Nothing to do except wait for Aria and Roar to come back and try to keep his people from starving. That didn’t sit right with him.

Perry rubbed a hand over the back of his head and sighed. “You want to know something?”

Reef nodded. “Sure.”

“I feel like an old man. I feel how you must feel.”

Reef smiled. “Not easy, is it, pup?”

“Could be easier.” Perry’s gaze drifted to his bow, leaning against the wall. When was the last time he’d used it? His shoulder had healed, and he had time now. He could find some food the way he always had.

“You want to hunt?” he asked, a surge of energy running through him. Suddenly nothing sounded better.

“Now?” Reef said, surprised. It was late, nearing midnight. “Thought you were tired.”

“Not anymore.” Perry pulled the Blood Lord chain over his head and dropped it into his satchel. He waited for Reef to object, and had his answers ready. It would be too loud if he had to run after prey, and too bright if he had to go unseen. But Reef just stood, a grin spreading over his face.

“Then let’s hunt.”

They loaded their quivers and jogged out beyond the compound. After checking in with Hayden, Hyde, and Twig, who sat watch on the eastern post, they slowed to a walk and moved off the trails into dense, untouched woods. Putting a hundred paces between them, they began to track.

Relief loosened Perry’s limbs as he moved away from the compound. He inhaled deeply, catching the sting of the Aether. Looking up, he saw the same glowing currents that had hovered threateningly above all week. They bathed the woods in cool light. An offshore breeze swept toward him, perfect for bringing him the scent of game and for keeping his own scent hidden. He treaded softly, scenting, scanning the woods, feeling more energized than he had in weeks.

The wind died down, and he became aware of the night’s stillness and the loudness of his footsteps. He looked up, expecting a storm, but the currents hadn’t changed. He found Reef, who walked up shaking his head.

“I got nothing. Squirrels. A fox, but only an old trail. Nothing worth—Perry, what is it?”

“I don’t know.” The wind had risen again, moving through the trees with a soft hiss. On the cool air, he caught human scents. Fear blasted through him, sparking in his veins. “Reef—”

Beside him, Reef cursed. “I got it too.”

They ran back to the eastern post. The rocky perch would give them the high ground. Twig reached them before they got there, his eyes frantic. “I was coming after you. Hyde’s warning the compound.”

“Do you hear them?” Perry asked.

Twig nodded. “They’ve got horses, and they’re coming at a full gallop. Thunder’s quieter.”

Perry pulled his bow off his shoulder. “We’ll make a stand here and slow them down.” A swift approach in the middle of the night meant one thing: an attack. He needed to buy the tribe some time. “Take the near range,” he told Hayden and Reef. “I’ll take the long.” He was the strongest archer among them, his eyes best suited to the dimness.

They spread out, finding cover among the trees and rocks along the overlook. His heart felt like a fist pounding inside his chest. The grassy meadow below looked as smooth and calm as a moonlit lake.

Was Wylan returning with a larger band to fight for the compound? Were the Rose and Night tribes attacking with their thousands? Suddenly he thought of Aria, lying on the bed in Vale’s room, and then Talon, snatched away into a Hovercraft. He hadn’t protected either of them from harm. He couldn’t fail the Tides.

His thoughts disappeared when the earth began to rumble beneath his feet. Perry nocked an arrow, instinct taking over as he drew his bow. Seconds later the first riders broke through the trees. He aimed for the man at the center of the charge and loosed the bowstring. The arrow struck the man in the chest. By the time he twisted sideways and fell from the horse, Perry had another arrow nocked. He aimed and fired. Another rider down.

The cries of the attackers broke the silence, raising the hair on his arms. He saw roughly thirty mounted raiders below, and now he heard the whistle of arrows flying past him. Ignoring them, he focused on finding the nearest man and firing. One after another, until he’d gone through his quiver and then Reef’s, with only one arrow that corkscrewed left and missed its mark because of damaged fletching, he was sure.

He lowered his bow and looked at Hayden, who was sighting down an arrow, scanning the field below for raiders. No one else came into view, just their horses, galloping off, riderless.

It wasn’t over, though. Seconds later a flood of people emerged from the woods, charging on foot.

“Hold them back as long as you can,” Perry ordered Hayden and Twig. Then he tore for home with Reef. They dug in, feet churning over the earth, pushing themselves to run faster. The compound appeared ahead—already crawling with the movements of people climbing to the rooftops and pulling the gates between the houses closed.

Perry sprinted into the clearing and spotted Brooke on top of the cookhouse, bow in hand.

“Archers up!” she yelled. “Archers up now!”

People pumped water from the well into buckets, preparing for fires. They’d brought the animals within the protection of the walls. Everyone moved as they should, as they’d practiced.

Perry tore up to the roof of the cookhouse. Against the pale tinge of dawn on the horizon, he saw the swarm of raiders tearing upslope. He put them at less than a half a mile away, and two hundred in number. The Tides had the fortified position, but as he saw the horde of people streaming toward the compound, he didn’t know if the tribe could hold them off.

The first arrows soared toward them, cracking roof tiles around him with sharp pops. Twig appeared at his side with a full quiver and a shield, giving him cover. Perry took his bow and set to defending his home. He’d done this plenty of times before, but never as the one in charge. The realization came on him like a quiet madness, slowing time, making his every move complete, efficient, sure.

Fire lit bright points of light against the rising dawn. A blazing arrow sliced past him, landing on the crates by the cookhouse. Perry adjusted his aim to the archers trying to set fire to the compound. His arrows—and those of Brooke and the Tides’ other archers—sheared through the charging mob. Some raiders fell into the trenches he’d had excavated and covered, but still they kept coming, too many in number. He watched as they split into smaller bands, swinging wide to circle the compound.

Men were climbing the gates, chopping at them with axes. Perry fired his last arrow, spearing one of them through. Not enough. Too late. He heard a splintering crash and saw the gates split open. They’d been breached—and they were burning. Smoke wafted from the stables, and from the crates by the cookhouse.

Perry climbed down from the roof, drawing his knife as he leaped off the ladder. He drove it into a man’s gut as he ran past. Voices he recognized screamed around him. He heard them faintly, no thought in his mind but finding the next attacker, the moment of hesitation, the false step, and seizing it.