Two men came forward and took Cinder from her side. Cinder’s head fell back limply as they picked him up.
“Have him taken to medical,” Marron told them. When he looked back to her, his expression softened. He pressed his hands together beneath his soft chin, a smile lighting in his eyes. “Blessed, blessed day. Look at you. ”
He tucked her neatly under his arm and ushered her toward the square structure. Aria didn’t protest. She could hardly walk. She let herself be cushioned to his soft side. Perfume flowed into her nose. Sandalwood. Citrus. Clean smells. She hadn’t smelled perfume since she’d been in the Realms.
She rushed through an explanation of the Croven as he led her inside. They crossed an airlock chamber that had been left open, no longer serving the purpose for which it had been designed. A wide cement hall brought them to a large room.
“I sent my best people to help. We can wait for them here,” Marron said.
It was only then she realized Marron was wearing Victorian clothes. A black tailcoat over a blue velvet vest. He even had a white silk puff tie and spats.
Where was she? What kind of place had she stumbled into? She turned, searching the room for understanding. Three-dimensional wallscreens, like people had before the Unity, framed two sides of the room. They showed images of forests, green and lush. Birdsong twittered through hidden speakers. The other walls were covered in richly patterned fabric. Every few feet, glass cases housed collections of odd items. An Indian headdress. A red old-fashioned sporting jersey with the number forty-five in block numbers across the back. A paper magazine, the dinosaur illustration on the cover framed by a yellow border. Spotlights showcased everything, like in ancient museums, so that Aria’s eyes traveled from one burst of color to another.
At the center of the room, several lush couches were ordered around an ornate coffee table with curved legs. Aria’s brain flashed with recognition. She’d seen a table like that in a Baroque Realm. A Louis XIV piece. She peered at Marron. What kind of Outsider was he?
“This is my home. I call it Delphi. Perry and Roar call it the Box,” he added, with a quick, affectionate smile. “There’s so much I want to know, but it’ll have to wait, of course. Please have a seat. You look so very tired, and standing won’t bring them here any faster, I’m afraid. ”
Aria moved toward the couch, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She was filthy and Marron’s home looked rich and immaculate, but the need to get off her feet overpowered her. She sat down, a gasp of relief escaping from her lips. The plush couch gave beneath her weight, melting against her back and her legs. She brushed her hand over the chocolate-colored fabric. Unbelievable. A silk couch. Here, on the Outside.
Marron sat opposite her, twisting a ring around a pudgy finger. He appeared to be a 4th Gen, but there was a childlike curiosity in his eyes.
“Perry is hurt,” she said. “His hand is burned. ”
Marron issued more orders. Aria hadn’t even realized there’d been other people in the room until they sped off. “I have a facility here. We’ll take care of him as soon as he’s inside. Slate will see that it gets done. ”
She guessed Slate was the tall young man who’d just been outside. “Thank you,” she said. Her eyes were closing on their own. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have left him. But he was gone before I knew it. ” She spoke without realizing it.
“My dear . . . ,” Marron said, looking at her with concern. “You need rest. What if I have you informed the moment they arrive?”
She shook her head, fighting off a wave off exhaustion. “I’m not going anywhere until they get here. ” She folded her hands in her lap, recognizing the gesture as her mother’s.
Any second, Perry would get there.
Any second.
Chapter 22
PEREGRINE
The bells rang everywhere. Perry couldn’t tell where the sound was closest. He scanned the woods. “Where are you?”
His eyes locked onto movement. Downhill two Croven stalked toward him, their capes dragging along the earth. They didn’t wear masks. Perry knew the exact moment they saw him. Fear slashed across their faces and then they dove behind a tree.
Perry pulled his bow off his shoulder, but he couldn’t move the fingers of his burnt hand. How was he supposed to draw his bow? The Croven peered around the tree, testing for danger. Sure, they crept onward in quick bursts, clutching their knives.
He had to do something. Aria and Roar were moving too slowly with Cinder. They wouldn’t make it to Marron’s unless he held off the Croven.
Perry sat where he was and wedged the bow stave across his feet. With his good hand, he fumbled to nock an arrow to the string. Then he pushed his legs out, drawing the string back and loosing it. It was a clumsy shot—he hadn’t fired an arrow using his feet since he was a boy sneaking off with his father’s bow—but the arrow flew, forcing the Croven to scramble for cover again.
“Perry, your bow!”
Roar pulled the quiver off Perry’s back as he ran up. He took Perry’s bow, nocked an arrow, and fired. Perry shot to his feet and drew his knife, and realized that it was backward—Roar with a bow and him with a knife—but they were moving. Keeping the Croven back as they worked their way up to Marron’s. He became Roar’s eyes, spotting whenever one of the Croven made a reckless charge. He found them. Roar fired.
Perry sensed movement at his back, and spun. A dozen men sprinted downslope toward them. Perry gripped the knife tighter. There were too many and too close. Then he realized they weren’t Croven.
“Marron’s men, Roar!”
R