“My mother wasn’t the most monogamous of women. I don’t remember very much about her, other than that. Which makes us very different, considering Liv is the only girl I’ve ever been with, and she was going to be . . . I wanted her to be . . .” He sucked on his bottom lip, lost in his thoughts for a moment. “I never wanted anyone else.”

“I know.”

He smiled. “I know you know. . . . I meant to tell you about my father, not about Liv. Here’s what I know about him.” Roar released her hand and counted on slender fingers. “He was handsome.”

“I could have guessed.”

“Thank you—and a drunk.”

“I could have guessed that too.”

“Right. Well then, what am I going to say next?”

Aria sucked on her bottom lip. “That I have the opportunity to know more than two things about my father?”

He nodded. “It seems possible. He sought you out, Aria. He didn’t need to help you. Or tell you who he is.”

All true. “What if I hate what I learn about him? He’s Sable’s right-hand man. How can I respect him?”

“I was sworn to Vale for ten years and I hated him. An oath is a promise—and a promise can be made regardless of feeling.” Roar glanced at the door, and then lowered his voice. “Aria, your father . . . he could help us get out of here.”

“Maybe,” she said, but she didn’t see how. They were on opposite sides.

She let out a slow breath and rested her head on his shoulder. She’d always imagined that finding her father would be such a happy occasion. She didn’t know what she felt now, but it leaned closer to terror.

As the minutes passed with Soren snoring in the other bunk, her mind wandered back to Perry. She pictured him walking through the woods, his bow over his shoulder. She imagined him dressed in a Guardian uniform, flashing a smile at her that carried a touch of wry embarrassment. She saw him lying on a cot, so beaten he could barely move.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” she said, when she couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Neither can I,” Roar said, knowing intuitively that him was Perry. “Maybe a song will help.”

“I’m too tired to sing.”

Too sad. Too worried. Too anxious.

“Then I will.” Roar was quiet for a moment, thinking of a song, and then he began the Hunter’s Song.

Perry’s favorite.

26. Peregrine

26

PEREGRINE

Perry woke to the prick of a needle in his arm.

A Dweller in a white smock answered his question before he voiced it.

“Medication for the pain,” she said. “They want you mobile and well enough to speak.”