I look away and scan the people around us, finding Bear and Molly, Gray and Old Will. I know what they’re thinking. We’re all remembering the shadow of bruises on Perry’s face. On his arms and back. Only the youngest in the tribe escaped those memories—those too young to have known Jodan. The rest of us carry the guilt of those beatings inside us. We were afraid of Perry’s father. We did nothing to stop him. And here we are. In the same situation again.

A small figure darts out from the crowd. Talon looks from his father to Perry. “What’s wrong? What are you doing, Dad?”

Uncertainty flickers in Vale’s eyes. “Get home, son,” he says. When Talon doesn’t move, Vale says, “Mila, take him inside.”

Talon dodges out of his mother’s reach. “No! I don’t want to go!”

“Talon,” Perry says, “it’s all right. Go inside.”

When Talon stops to listen to Perry, Wylan grabs his arm and drags him away. For long moments after I can’t see him, I hear Talon arguing, his voice raised, crying, as he’s hauled to his house.

At the solid thud of a door shutting, Vale walks up to Perry. They stand eye to eye, both well over six feet tall. Vale is older by seven years. It has always been a significant gap, but I don’t see a day between them now. They are so different—one dark and the other light—but the look in their eyes is the same. Unbending.

This is the challenge we’ve all been waiting for. It will be, if Perry does what he’s threatened and fights back.

He holds his arms out wide. “I’m ready, Vale.”

I see that he is ready. Perry has taught me everything I know about fistfights. I take in his broad stance and the loose set of his shoulders, and hear his voice telling me, “It hurts less when you’re relaxed.” I see his expression grow distant and hear him say, “Never show emotion. It only feeds them.” If anyone knows how to stand and take a hit, he does. Perry won’t even flinch. I know he won’t.

Talon is shut inside his house, but through mortar and tile and across a hundred paces I still hear him crying. Outside the tribe is silent.

Bracing.

Vale drives his fist into Perry’s stomach. He moves surprisingly fast for someone his size, and he’s merciless, using the full power of his substantial strength.

It’s a hammer of a blow. I know because Perry doubles over and my breath is gone and Liv is trembling beside me. I know because Perry gasps as he hugs his waist and Vale is flexing his hand, opened and closed. The blow hurt him, but not nearly as much as it hurt Perry.