“Liv is alive in my peripheral vision. When I’m not thinking about her . . . when she’s just past the point where I can see her, it feels like she’s still there. Thinking of ways to embarrass me. Telling me all the stupid things you said, like I don’t already know. Like I wasn’t there to hear them myself. But when I look right at her, I remember she’s gone and I—” He stared at the sky for a few moments, forcing himself to draw a few breaths before he continued. “I couldn’t let myself feel that kind of anger. That lost. Not with the Tides needing me to be Blood Lord.”

“Why don’t you just tell me the truth, Perry? Why can’t you ever say what you’re really thinking?”

Perry glanced at him, surprised. Roar was still staring at Perry’s house, his jaw clenched. “Why don’t you tell me what you think I’m thinking?”

Roar wheeled and faced him directly. “You blame me! I was there and I couldn’t protect her—”

“No.”

“I told you I’d bring her home and I didn’t. I lost her. I—”

“No, Roar,” he said again. “No one on this earth would have fought harder for her than you—and that includes me. You think I haven’t thought about what I could’ve done to get her back? To have stopped it from happening?”

Roar’s eyes blazed with intensity, but he said nothing.

“I don’t blame you,” Perry said. “Stop acting like I do, because I don’t.”

“When I showed up at the cave, you couldn’t even stand to look at me.”

“That’s in your head.”

“It’s not. You’re hardly subtle.” Roar waved a hand. “About anything.”

“You vain bastard. I wasn’t avoiding you. You just sulk whenever you’re not the center of attention.”

Roar lifted his shoulders. “Maybe that’s true, but you were acting like Liv never existed. I was on my own.”

“Which was a disaster. You’re miserable on your own. And stupid. Turning back in the Komodo was the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. Without question.”

Roar smiled. “You’re making this so easy, Perry.” A laugh burbled out of him, but it didn’t taper off. What started as a chuckle gained momentum, growing in volume.

Roar’s laugh was wicked and high-pitched, resembling the cackle of a wild turkey. It was one of the funniest sounds Perry had ever heard; he was powerless against it. Soon they were both howling, standing in the middle of a place that was, and wasn’t, home.

By the time they settled down and took the trail back to the cave, Perry’s ribs ached.

“Why were we laughing?”

Roar gestured to the south, where Aether funnels scored down to the earth. “Because of that. Because the world is ending.”

“That shouldn’t be funny.”