Perry went still. He couldn’t tell Vale the truth, but lying wouldn’t help him either. No matter what he said, people would think Vale had given him the bruise, just as Brooke had. Blaming someone else for it would only make him look weak.

“Thanks for caring, Vale. It’s good to be home.” Perry nodded at the rack. “Where’d you bring him down?”

“Moss Ledge.”

Perry couldn’t believe he’d missed picking up the buck’s scent. He’d been out that way recently.

Vale smiled. “Fine beast, don’t you think, little brother? Best one in years.”

Perry glared at his older brother, holding back the bitter words that sprang to his lips. Vale knew it annoyed Perry to be called this in front of the tribe. He was no longer a boy. There was nothing little about him.

“Still think we have overhunted?” Vale added.

Perry was sure of it. The animals had left. They’d sensed the Aether growing stronger each passing year in their valley. Perry sensed it too. But what could he say? Vale held proof there was still game like that out there, ready to be brought in. “We should still move,” he said without thinking.

A smile spread over Vale’s face. “Move, Perry? Do you mean that?”

“The storms will only get worse.”

“This cycle will play out as they all do.”

“In time, maybe. But we may not survive the worst of it here.”

A stir ran through the crowd. He and Vale might argue like this in private, but no one crossed Vale in front of others.

Vale shifted his feet. “Then tell us about your idea, Perry. About moving more than two hundred people into the open. Do you think we’d be better off without shelter? Fighting for our lives in the borderlands?”

Perry swallowed hard. He knew what he knew. He just never said it well. But he couldn’t back down now.

“The compound won’t hold up if the storms get much worse. We’re losing our fields. We’ll lose everything if we stay. We need to find safer land.”

“Where do you want us to go?” Vale asked. “You think another tribe will welcome us into their territory? All of us?”

Perry shook his head. He wasn’t sure. He and Vale were Marked. Worth something, purely for their blood. But not the others, the Unmarked, who weren’t Scires or Auds or Seers. Who made up most of the tribe.

Vale’s eyes narrowed. “What if the storms are worse in other territories, Peregrine?”

Perry couldn’t answer. He wasn’t sure if the Aether raged elsewhere as it did there. He only knew that last winter, the storms torched nearly a quarter of their territory. This winter, he expected, would be worse.

“We leave this land, we die,” Vale said, his tone suddenly hard. “Try thinking once in a while, little brother. It might serve you.”