When he was finished, Soren stood and nodded. “Got it,” he said, jogging off.

Then Roar hopped to his feet. “Shoot straight, Per.”

As he turned to leave, Perry caught him by the arm. “Roar—” He didn’t know what else to say. He had so little left, and if this plan didn’t work—

“It’s going to work, Perry.” Roar tipped his chin toward the clearing. “Let’s finish the bastard.” He jogged off, steps silent as he worked his way to the opposite side of the clearing.

As he watched Roar stalk through the trees, Perry had never been more grateful for his sharp eyes. His heart pounded as Roar drew closer to his target, settling into position.

Hidden in the woods behind Kirra.

Perry needed to use her, just as she’d used him.

The music stopped abruptly—that meant Soren had done his part. He’d made his way to the musicians, found Jupiter, and told him to stop playing.

Roar came next. Across the clearing, he raised his hand, signaling. He was ready.

Perry’s focus turned to the Horn soldier nearest to him. He pulled himself to his feet, legs coiled as he counted down

Three.

Two.

One.

He sprang from his hiding place, knowing Roar was doing the same across the clearing. His legs churned over the soft earth as he ran to the Horn soldier.

“Sable!”

Roar’s shout broke the silence like a thunderclap. Hundreds of heads turned toward his voice—away from Perry as he grabbed the soldier by the neck, laying a forearm over the man’s mouth to stifle his protests. Perry hauled him into the darkness, back behind the cover of the shrub. Then he took the man’s pistol, lifted the weapon, and delivered a quick strike to the temple. The soldier’s head snapped to the side and he dropped, unconscious. Perry jumped up and sprinted the short distance to the clearing.

Everywhere, people rose to their feet, craning to see Roar, who held Kirra by the throat, using her body as a shield.

Perry dove into the crowd, sinking into his legs to minimize his height. Twig saw him and gasped, opening his mouth to say something. Perry shook his head, holding his finger to his lips.

Twig nodded.

A few more eyes darted Perry’s way. Old Will. Brooke and Clara. A murmur rose up around him but it faded quickly. The message passed through the crowd like a silent ripple: he was there—but he was to be concealed. The Tides understood. They gave no outward sign that he was among them. They kept the surprise from their faces, but he scented their tempers. He knew exactly how overcome they were to see him alive. The force of their emotion added to his resolve.

As he wove past Straggler and Old Will toward the high table at the center, Roar’s voice was the only sound he heard.

“Call them off, Sable! Tell your men to stand down, or I’ll kill her!”

Perry reached the edge of the crowd. The wooden dais stretched before him, Sable only a dozen paces away.

And Aria.

“Call your men off and I’ll let her go!” Roar yelled. “This is between us! It’s about Liv.”

Sable took a pistol from Aria’s father and stood. “I can’t say I’m surprised to see you.”

Gasps erupted from across the clearing as the crowd surged back, clearing the field between them.

“You have a debt to pay.” Roar’s voice sounded rough, hoarse with anger. His diversion was working; all eyes remained fixed on him.

Perry lifted the gun and aimed at Sable, searching for a clear shot. He found it. A kill shot, right to the back of his head. Steadying his breath, he exerted steady pressure on the trigger.

Aria shifted, suddenly in the way.

Perry let up, his heart climbing to his throat, but he wasted no time. He crept around the dais in search of another angle, knowing he had only seconds before the Horns spotted him.

“Sable, do something!” Kirra pleaded, struggling against Roar.

“No one else has to get hurt,” Roar yelled. “Only you. You need to pay for what you did!”

Sable raised the pistol in a quick, precise motion. “I disagree,” he said.

Then he fired.

51

ARIA

The gunshot shook the air. An instant later, Roar and Kirra collapsed to the earth.

Aria reacted without thinking, throwing herself into Sable. She rammed into his shoulder and they crashed to the platform. The hard edge of a plank bit into her back, Sable’s weight smashing her down. They rolled off together, onto the grass.

She twisted as they fell, grabbing the pistol in his hand. Her fingers found the trigger and squeezed. She heard the weapon fire just as Sable’s fist struck her across the temple.

Pain burst deep in her skull, a blaze that shot all the way down her spine, and everything went dark. The only thing she knew was that she still gripped the gun.

But then it tore from her fingers as unseen hands closed on her arms and wrenched her upright. They pulled with such force that her neck snapped forward, her chin hitting her breastbone.

Aria lifted her head. She couldn’t see—not the earth beneath her feet or the people around her. She blinked hard, trying to recover her vision. Trying to stay on her feet.

When her eyes cleared, she thought she’d died. That she’d shot herself while trying to kill Sable. It was the only explanation for why Perry stood only ten paces away, on the platform, pointing a gun at Sable.

Perry stepped down to the ground. Shouts exploded around the clearing. A dozen of Sable’s guards aimed their weapons at Perry.

He went still, his gaze flicking to Aria. He lowered the gun.

“Wise choice, Peregrine,” Sable said at her side. “If you kill me, my men will kill you, and then, quite probably, the killing will keep going for quite some time. I’m glad you recognize that.”

As he spoke, Aria noticed that he was empty-handed. She had disarmed him. She’d also taken off part of his ear.

Sable paused, wincing as he gave a small shake of his head, like he’d just become aware of the pain. He pressed at the bleeding wound and saw the blood on his fingers, then let out a raw groan of pure anger. “Take his gun, Loran,” he ordered.

Perry never took his eyes off Sable as Loran took the weapon from him.

Aria knew what was coming. She had seen this before. She’d lived this nightmare once already, on a balcony high over the Snake River. She felt like she was falling again. Like in seconds, she’d plunge into frigid black water.

“I have to admit,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “I am surprised to see you, Peregrine. My own fault for not being thorough. Not a mistake I’ll make again.” He glanced over his shoulder, at Loran. “I’ll take that pistol. And then you might consider holding your daughter. I wouldn’t want her to catch a stray shot.”

Loran didn’t move. Aria didn’t understand. Hadn’t he heard the command?

Seconds passed. Finally, Sable looked at him. “Loran, the gun.”

Loran shook his head. “You wanted to keep the old ways alive. You said so yourself when we came here.” He held up the pistol. “We never used these to settle a challenge before. Did the Tides, Peregrine?”

Every eye in the clearing turned to Perry.

He shook his head. “No. Never did.” Then he dove forward, flying at Sable.

52

PEREGRINE

As Perry tackled Sable to the ground, he waged a small debate with himself.

Make Sable suffer, or finish him instantly?

A little of both, he decided.

Sable fought him, pushing against Perry, but he was weaker and slower. Pinning him took no effort.

As Sable fell on his back, Perry punched him across the jaw. Sable’s head rocked to the side, his eyes losing focus as the blow stunned him. Perry grabbed the jeweled Blood Lord chain around his neck and gave the links a hard twist, tightening them.

Sable groaned and sputtered, thrashing beneath him, but Perry held him fast. He’d been in this position before, very nearly, with his brother. That had been harder. Much harder than this.

“You were right, Sable.” Perry twisted tighter, the gemstones cold against his fingers. “We are alike. Neither one of us deserves to wear this.” He twisted again.

Sable’s eyes bulged, and his skin turned blue.

“Perry!”

Perry heard Aria’s yell, just as the glint of steel flashed in the corner of his eye. He shifted away, but felt the blade slice into his side.

A hidden weapon. He should have known.

The knife grazed Perry’s ribs. It was glancing blow—Sable too weak to put any force behind the strike—the pain that bit into him shallow, nothing compared to what Perry had been through.

“That’s not enough, Sable,” he growled. “You don’t have enough.” He cinched the links tighter and held on.

Sable convulsed, his eyes rolling back, the tone of his skin going from pale blue to white.

Finally, he went still.

Perry released the chain and climbed to his feet. He decided on the spot: This was it. His final act as Blood Lord of the Tides.

He pulled his own chain over his neck and dropped it on Sable’s body.

He spent the next hours defusing the tension in the clearing with Aria, Marron, and Loran. The Horns put down their weapons with little protest when they learned they weren’t in danger of retaliation. Aria’s father proved to be key to their disarmament. Perry quickly saw that Loran commanded more loyalty and respect from Sable’s people than Sable ever had.

Then the questions began as discussions turned to next steps. Who would lead? How would they meet basic needs?

Nothing was decided, but one note was heard over and again: the answers would come eventually and peaceably. Dweller. Outsider. Horn or Tide. They were of the same mind. They’d had enough of strife. It was time to shed the skin of the old world and move forward.

Later that night, when most everyone had settled into sleep, Perry caught Roar’s eye and they did what they’d done their entire lives, taking the trail to the beach to grab a few minutes of quiet.

This time was different.

Aria came with them. Talon and Willow, too.

Then Brooke and Soren. Molly and Bear and Marron.

It went on, a small crowd leaving the slumbering camp behind, and migrating down to the wide beach fringed by waves far gentler than those at the Tides.

Hyde and Hayden fetched wood. Jupiter brought down a guitar. Soon there was a fire and laughter. A real celebration.

“I told you we’d do it, Per,” Roar said.

“It was closer than I wanted it to be. I thought you’d really been shot.”

“I thought I’d gotten shot.”

“So did I,” Aria said. “You fell so dramatically.”

Caleb nodded. “He did. He fell with a flourish.”

Roar laughed. “What can I say? I’m just good at most things.”

As their joking continued, Perry’s thoughts turned to Kirra. Roar hadn’t been shot, but she had. It wasn’t right to celebrate her death, but Sable’s . . .

Perry felt no remorse for what he’d done. He wished he could be nobler about it, but he couldn’t be. He knew regret, having slain Vale. Perry would carry that burden for the rest of his life. But Sable’s death brought him nothing but relief.