“Almost. Be careful out there. We do not know exactly what we are walking into. Do not go off alone. If someone feels off, get out of there. We can always go back to certain people or areas with larger numbers. Be careful with your questions. Do not push too hard too fast or we might draw the wrong kind of attention. Just glean what you can without being too obvious. When you are done, come back here, but make certain you are not followed.”

Jinx slapped him on the shoulder and said, “Good speech, Kiran.” His new name, or old name, rather, had been an adjustment, but Roar and Jinx had pretty much drilled the rest of the crew into using it. Jinx handed her bag off to Ransom, gave Kiran a silly salute, and set off through the trees.

He watched his friends disperse, and Bait gave him a wave, no doubt grumbling beneath his breath as he climbed inside the Rock. Finally, Kiran let himself turn to look at Roar. She had been silent through the entire conversation, but that did not mean he could not feel her, her presence as charged and powerful as the storm she held inside her.

“You ready?”

She did not look ready. She looked … pale. But again, he bit his tongue, knowing what she would say if he commented. She would make some joke to put him at ease, or find something to poke at him with to shift the conversation. And he knew that kind of pretending took energy he did not want her to waste. So he simply offered her his hand. She stood, taking it, and he grasped the bag of goods with his other hand.

Their walk to the remnant camp was slow, in part because they had chosen their own spot a significant distance away, but also because Roar did not seem to be in a hurry. He watched her take deep breaths, and knew she was working hard mentally to set up barriers as they had discussed the night before. Duke and Jinx and Sly had all weighed in with advice, and Roar seemed confident that she could do a better job today of shutting out what she felt from the souls around them.

He could not imagine what she was dealing with right now. The thing he despised most about storm hunting was the possibility that his mind might be manipulated by a storm’s magic. That loss of control terrified him. But it was very, very rare that he faced a storm strong enough to catch him off guard. Roar, by contrast, was under siege constantly. The threat of that kind of invasion into one’s vulnerabilities would be exhausting one time, let alone in endless stampedes.

Gods, she was strong. It was no wonder he loved her. He had never stood any chance.