Perry paused as Twig and Gren passed them. He’d sent Reef ahead that morning to make an announcement to the Tides, letting everyone know that Aria was under his protection as an ally. He wanted her arrival to go as smoothly as possible. With Twig and Gren pulling ahead, he let himself step closer to her and nodded toward the burnt stretch of land to the south.

“An Aether storm tore right through those woods in the winter. It took out part of our best farmland.” A small shudder rolled through his shoulders as her temper hit him. Bright green, a scent like mint. She was alert and a little skitty with nerves. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be rendered to another person, to not only scent their tempers but feel them himself. Aria didn’t know this bond existed between them. He hadn’t told her in the fall, having thought then that he’d never see her again, but he’d do it soon, when he got her alone.

“The damage could’ve been worse, though,” he continued. “We kept the fires from spreading, and the compound wasn’t hit.”

He watched her as she studied the horizon. The Tide Valley wasn’t a large territory, but it was fertile, near the sea, and well positioned for defense. Could she see that? It was good land when the Aether left it alone. He didn’t know how much longer that would be. Another year? Two, at the most, before it became nothing but scorched earth?

“It’s much prettier than I imagined,” she said.

He let out his breath, relieved. “Yeah?”

Aria looked at him, her eyes smiling. “Yeah.” She turned away, and Perry wondered if they’d been standing too close. Couldn’t they talk if they were pretending to be allies? Was a smile too much? Then he saw what she’d heard.

Willow charged toward them at full speed on the dirt path, Flea galloping at her side. The dog thundered up first, laying back his ears and baring his teeth at Aria.

“It’s all right,” Perry said. “He’s friendly.”

Aria stood her ground and rolled on the balls of her feet, ready to move quickly. “He doesn’t look it,” she said.

Roar had told him she’d become a skilled fighter in the past months. Perry saw the difference now. She looked stronger, quicker. More comfortable with fear.

Tearing his eyes away from her, he knelt. “Here, Flea. Give her some space.” Flea inched forward and sniffed Aria’s boots, his tail wagging slowly, before he pranced over. Perry scratched his wiry coat, a patchwork of brown and black fur. “He’s Willow’s dog. You’ll never see them apart.”

“Then I guess this is Willow,” she said.