Hours later, Aria grasped his arm. “I hear barking, Perry. We need to find someplace safe. ” Her words fogged in the cool afternoon.
Perry strained to listen. He heard only the lull after a storm, but the musk of the animals was strong, telling him a pack couldn’t be far. Scanning the woods for a sturdy tree where they could shelter, Perry saw only pines with high, slender branches. He quickened their pace, cursing himself for not grabbing more arrows from Marron when they’d taken Cinder and Roar back. He had onl
y his knife to protect them. A knife wouldn’t last long against wolves.
Aria looked back sharply, her eyes wide. “Perry, they’re right behind us!”
Moments later, he heard the wolves himself, two sharp barks that sounded far too close. Desperate, he ran for the nearest tree, a poor choice. The branches too low and brittle. Then he saw a game trail, a worn dirt path weaving to a tree up ahead. He spotted a wooden shack set up in the branches of the massive pine. He ran, Aria beside him, as the snarling grew louder. Claw marks shredded the trunk around the base. A rope ladder hung from a thick branch.
He lifted Aria onto the ladder.
“They’re coming!” she yelled. “Perry, climb!”
He couldn’t. Not yet. Didn’t trust the brittle rope to hold both of their weight. He drew his knife.
“Go! I’ll be right behind you. ”
Seven wolves prowled into view. Huge animals with glinting blue eyes and silver pelts. Their musk came at Perry in a red wave of blood hunger. They raised their shining snouts, reading scents as he did, then laid back their ears and bared their teeth, their hackles rising.
Aria reached the top and called out to him. Perry spun and leaped, grabbing the highest rung he could reach. He pulled his legs up and slashed with his knife as their jaws snapped at him. He kicked one wolf on the ear. It yelped and fell away, giving him an instant to find a rung with his foot and push. He launched himself up, pulling himself to the top.
Aria grabbed him, steadying his balance. They followed the wide branch to the shack. The two outfacing sides were boarded solidly. On the other two sides, every other board had been left off, giving it the look of a cage.
Aria slipped right in. He couldn’t squeeze his shoulders through so he smashed one of the boards with his foot. The wood groaned beneath him, and he couldn’t stand at his full height, but the floorboards were sturdy. For a few seconds, he and Aria looked at each other, panting for breath, as the wolves barked below them, claws ripping at the tree. Then he kicked off a layer of leaves and set his satchel down. The last of the daylight came gray and blurred through the slats, like light moving through water.
“We’ll be safe up here,” he said.
Aria peered out of the shack, her shoulders drawn tight with strain. The rabid sounds continued. “How long will they stay?”
He saw no point in lying to her. The wolves would wait, just as the Croven had. “As long as it takes. ”
Perry ran a hand through his hair as he considered his options. He could make new arrows, but that would take time and he’d dropped his bow somewhere below. For now, there was nothing he could think to do. He knelt and took the blankets from his satchel. They’d been running for their lives. They didn’t feel the cold now, but they would soon enough.
They sat together as night fell over the shack, the darkness amplifying the snapping sounds from below. Perry brought out water, but Aria wouldn’t drink. She covered her ears and pressed her eyes closed. Her temper seethed with anxiety and he knew—felt—how the sounds brought her physical pain. He didn’t know how to help.
An hour passed. Aria hadn’t moved. Perry thought he might go mad when the barking stopped unexpectedly. He sat up.
Aria uncovered her ears, hope a passing flicker in her eyes. “They’re still here,” she whispered.
He eased back against the board, absorbing the quiet. The howl sent a sudden chill down his spine. He tensed, listening to a wail unlike anything he’d ever heard. Like being rendered, it pulled him into the deepest, heaviest feeling, trapping his breath in his throat. Other wolves joined in, creating a sound that raised the hair on his arms.
After a few minutes, the howls died off. Perry waited, hoping, but then the barking and scraping began again. The boards shifted beneath him as Aria stood and moved to the edge, the blanket sliding off her shoulders. Perry watched as she stared down at the wolves. Then she cupped her hands around her mouth and closed her eyes.
He thought it was another wolf howling. Even watching her, he couldn’t believe she’d made the sound. The barking below ceased. When she finished, her gaze darted to his for a moment. Then she let out an even richer, mournful sound, her singer’s voice carrying more power, more reach than any of the wolves below.
Quiet fell over them when she was done. Perry’s heart pounded.
He heard a soft whine and a wet sneeze. And then, after a moment, the patter of paws retreating into the night.
With the wolves gone, they sat and shared water. Perry’s fear was wearing off, leaving a heavy fatigue. He couldn’t stop looking at Aria. He couldn’t stop wondering.
“What did you say to them?” he finally asked.
“I have no idea. I just tried to copy their howls. ”
Perry took a drink of water. “It’s a gift you have. ”
“A gift?” She looked lost in thought for a while. “I never thought so before. But maybe it is. ” She smiled. “We’re alike, Perry. My voice is called a falcon soprano. ”