Author: Veronica Rossi
Date: 2012-12-04 00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Fiction; Dystopia; Adventure; Romance; Paranormal; Post Apocalyptic; Teen; Young Adult; Science Fiction
Description: Fighting to survive in a ravaged world, a Dweller and a Savage form an unlikely alliance in New York Times bestselling author Veronica Rossi's "unforgettable dystopian masterpiece" (Examiner.com). Exiled from her home, the enclosed city of Reverie, Aria knows her chances of surviving in the outer wasteland—known as The Death Shop—are slim. Then Aria meets an Outsider named Perry. He's wild—a savage—and her only hope of staying alive. A hunter for his tribe in a merciless landscape, Perry views Aria as sheltered and fragile—everything he would expect from a Dweller. But he needs Aria's help too
Publisher: HarperCollins
Rights: All rights reserved

Contents

Under the Never Sky

Roar and Liv

Through the Ever Night

Brooke

Into the Still Blue

About the Author

About the Publisher

Dedication

For Luca and Rocky

Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1 - ARIA

Chapter 2 - ARIA

Chapter 3 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 4 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 5 - ARIA

Chapter 6 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 7 - ARIA

Chapter 8 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 9 - ARIA

Chapter 10 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 11 - ARIA

Chapter 12 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 13 - ARIA

Chapter 14 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 15 - ARIA

Chapter 16 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 17 - ARIA

Chapter 18 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 19 - ARIA

Chapter 20 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 21 - ARIA

Chapter 22 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 23 - ARIA

Chapter 24 - ARIA

Chapter 25 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 26 - ARIA

Chapter 27 - ARIA

Chapter 28 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 29 - ARIA

Chapter 30 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 31 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 32 - ARIA

Chapter 33 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 34 - ARIA

Chapter 35 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 36 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 37 - ARIA

Chapter 38 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 39 - ARIA

Chapter 40 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 41 - ARIA

Chapter 42 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 43 - ARIA

Chapter 44 - PEREGRINE

Chapter 45 - ARIA

Acknowledgments

Credits

Copyright

Chapter 1

ARIA

They called the world beyond the walls of the Pod “the Death Shop.” A million ways to die out there. Aria never thought she’d get so close.

She bit her lip as she stared at the heavy steel door in front of her. A display screen read AGRICULTURE 6—NO ENTRY in flashing red letters.

Ag 6 was just a service dome, Aria told herself. Dozens of domes supplied Reverie with food, water, oxygen—all the things an enclosed city needed. Ag 6 had been damaged in a recent storm, but supposedly the damage was minor. Supposedly.

“Maybe we should turn back,” Paisley said. She stood beside Aria in the airlock chamber, nervously twisting a strand of her long red hair.

The three boys crouched at the control board by the door, jamming the signal so they could exit without triggering an alarm. Aria tried to ignore their steady bickering.

“Come on, Paisley. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Aria meant it as a joke, but her voice sounded too high so she tacked on a laugh. That came out sounding mildly hysterical.

“What could happen in a damaged dome?” Paisley counted on her slender fingers. “Our skin could rot off. We could get locked out. An Aether storm could turn us into human bacon. Then the cannibals could eat us for breakfast.”

“It’s just another part of Reverie,” Aria said.

“An off-limits part.”

“Pais, you don’t have to go.”

“Neither do you,” Paisley said, but she was wrong.

For the past five days, Aria had worried constantly about her mother. Why hadn’t she been in touch? Lumina had never missed one of their daily visits, no matter how engrossed she was in her medical research. If Aria wanted answers, she needed to get into that dome.

“For the hundredth—wait, thousandth—time, Ag 6 is safe,” Soren said without turning from the control board. “You think I want to die tonight?”

He had a point. Soren loved himself too much to risk his own life. Aria’s gaze rested on his muscled back. Soren was the son of Reverie’s Director of Security. He had the kind of flesh that only came with privilege. He even had a tan, a ridiculous upgrade considering none of them had ever seen the sun. He was also a genius at cracking codes.

Bane and Echo watched at his side. The brothers followed Soren everywhere. He usually had hundreds of followers, but that was in the Realms. Tonight just five of them shared the cramped airlock chamber. Just five of them breaking the law.

Soren straightened, flashing a cocky smile. “I’m going to have to talk to my father about his security protocols.”

“You did it?” Aria asked.

Soren shrugged. “Was there ever a doubt? Now for the best part. Time to turn off.”

“Wait,” Paisley said. “I thought you were just going to jam our Smarteyes.”

“I’ve been jamming them but that won’t give us enough time. We need to turn off.”

Aria brushed a finger over her Smarteye. She had always worn the clear device over her left eye and it was always on. The Eye took them to the Realms, the virtual spaces where they spent most of their time.

“Caleb will kill us if we’re not back soon,” said Paisley.

Aria rolled her eyes. “Your brother and his theme nights.” She usually cruised the Realms with Paisley and her older brother, Caleb, from their favorite spot in the 2nd Gen Lounge. For the past month, Caleb had planned their nights around themes. Tonight’s theme, “Feeding Friend-zies,” began in a Roman Realm where they’d feasted on roasted boar and lobster ragout. Then they’d cruised to a Minotaur feeding in a Mythology Realm. “I’m just glad we left before the piranhas.”

Thanks to her Smarteye, Aria had kept daily visits with her mother, who had followed her research to Bliss, another Pod hundreds of miles away. The distance had never mattered until five days ago, when the link with Bliss broke.

“How long are we planning to stay out there?” Aria asked. She only needed a few minutes alone with Soren. Just long enough to ask him about Bliss.

A grin broke over Bane’s face. “Long enough to party in the real!”

Echo pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Long enough to party in the flesh!”

Echo’s actual name was Theo but few people remembered it. His nickname suited him too well.

“We can shut off for one hour.” Soren winked at her. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn you on later.”

Aria made herself laugh, smoky and flirtatious. “You better.”

Paisley shot her a suspicious look. She didn’t know Aria’s plan. Something had happened to Bliss, and Aria knew Soren could get the information from his father.

Soren shifted his thick shoulders like a boxer stepping into a ring. “Here we go, Glitches. Hold on to your pants. We’re shutting off in three, two—”

Aria startled at a shrill ringing that came from deep within her ears. A red wall crashed over her field of vision. Hot needles of pain stabbed into her left eye and then spread over her scalp. They gathered at the base of her skull and then shot down her spine, exploding through her limbs. She heard one of the boys swear stiffly with relief. The red wall vanished as quickly as it had come.

She blinked a few times, disoriented. The icons for her favorite Realms had disappeared. The messages in the queue and the news crawl in the lower part of her Smartscreen were gone as well, leaving only the airlock door, which appeared dull, filtered through a soft film. She looked down at her gray boots. Middle Gray. A shade that covered nearly every surface in Reverie. How could gray seem less vibrant?

A sense of loneliness crept over her despite being in the crowded little chamber. She couldn’t believe people lived this way once, with nothing but the real. Savages on the outside still lived this way.

“It worked,” Soren said. “We’re off! We’re strictly meat!”

Bane hopped up and down. “We’re like the Savages!”

“We’re Savages!” Echo yelled. “We’re Outsiders!”

Paisley kept blinking over and over. Aria wanted to reassure her, but she couldn’t concentrate with Bane and Echo blasting around in the small space.

Soren spun a manual release bar on the door. The chamber depressurized with a quick hiss and a rush of cool air. Aria looked down, stunned to see Paisley’s hand clasped to hers. She had only a second to absorb the fact that she hadn’t touched anyone in months, since her mother left, before Soren slid the door open.

“Freedom at last,” he said, and then stepped into the darkness.

In the shaft of light that spilled out of the airlock chamber, she saw the same smooth floors that ran everywhere in Reverie, but these were coated with a layer of dust. Soren’s footprints stamped a trail into the gloom.

What if the dome wasn’t secure? What if Ag 6 crawled with outside dangers? A million deaths in the Death Shop. A million diseases might be swimming in the air rushing past her cheeks. Inhaling suddenly felt like suicide.

Aria heard beeps from a keypad coming from Soren’s direction. Tracks of lights flickered on with a series of loud clicks. A cavernous space appeared. Farming rows stretched back as even as stripes. High above, pipes and beams crisscrossed the ceiling. She saw no gaping hole or other signs of wreckage. With its dirty floors and solemn quiet, the dome simply looked neglected.

Soren jumped in front of the doorway, bracing the frame.

“Blame me if this turns out to be the greatest night of your life.”

The food grew from waist-high plastic mounds. Row after row of decaying fruits and vegetables spread out around her in endless lines. Like everything in the Pod, they were genetically designed for efficiency. They had no leaves, and needed no soil and little water to grow.

Aria plucked a withered peach, cringing at how easily she’d bruised the soft flesh. In the Realms food still grew, or pretended to grow virtually, on farms with red barns and fields under sunny skies. She remembered the latest Smarteye slogan, Better than Real. It was true in this case. The real food in Ag 6 looked like old people before aging-reversal treatments.

The boys spent the first ten minutes chasing each other down the aisles and leaping over the farming rows. That turned into a game Soren dubbed “Rotball,” which consisted of pegging one another with produce. Aria played for a while, but Soren kept aiming for her and he threw too hard.

She took cover with Paisley, ducking behind a row as Soren changed the game again. He lined Bane and Echo against the wall execution-style and then fired grapefruits at the brothers, who just stood there laughing.

“No more citrus!” Bane yelled. “We’ll talk!”

Echo put his hands up like Bane. “We give, Fruit Reaper! We’ll talk!”

People always did what Soren wanted. He had priority in all the best Realms. He even had a Realm named after him, SOREN 18. Soren’s father created it for his eighteenth birthday a month ago. Tilted Green Bottles played a special concert. During the last song, the stadium flooded with seawater. Everyone had transformed into mermaids and mermen. Even in the Realms, where anything was possible, that party had been spectacular. It had set off the underwater concert craze. Soren had made caudal fins sexy.

Aria rarely meshed with him after school hours. Soren ruled the sports and combat Realms. Places where people could compete and be ranked. She normally kept to art and music Realms with Paisley and Caleb.

“Look at this messy thing,” Paisley said, rubbing at an orange smear on her pants. “It won’t go away.”

“It’s called a stain,” Aria said.

“What’s the point of stains?”

“There isn’t any. That’s why we don’t have them in the Realms.” Aria studied her best friend. Paisley wore a pinched expression, her brow overlapping the edge of her Smarteye. “Are you all right?”

Paisley waved her fingers in front of her Eye. “I hate this. Everything’s missing, you know? Where is everyone? And why do I sound so pseudo?”

“We all do. Like we swallowed megaphones.”

Paisley lifted an eyebrow. “A what?”

“A cone people used to make their voices louder. Before microphones.”

“Sounds mega-regress,” Paisley said. She scooted around, squaring her shoulders to Aria. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? Why are we with Soren?”

Now that they were shut off, Aria realized she could tell Paisley her reason for flirting with him. “I need to find out about Lumina. I know Soren can get information from his father. He might already know something.”

Paisley’s expression softened. “The link is probably just down. You’ll hear from her soon.”

“The link has only dropped for a few hours before. Never for this long.”

Paisley sighed, leaning back against the plastic mound. “I couldn’t believe it when you sang to him the other night. And you should’ve seen Caleb. He thought you’d broken into your mother’s medicines.”

Aria smiled. She usually kept her voice private, something strictly between herself and her mother. But a few nights ago, she made herself sing a sultry ballad to Soren in a Cabaret Realm. In minutes that Realm had reached full capacity, with hundreds of people waiting to hear her sing again. Aria had left. And just as she’d hoped, Soren had been chasing her since. When he’d proposed the idea for tonight, she’d jumped at the opportunity.

“I had to get him interested.” She flicked a seed off her knee. “I’ll talk to him as soon as he calls off the fruit war. Then we’ll get out of here.”

“Let’s get him to stop now. We’ll tell him we’re bored . . . which we are.”

“No, Pais,” Aria said. Soren wasn’t one to push into anything. “I’ll handle it.”

Soren leaped on top of the farming row in front of them, making them both jump. He held an avocado, his arm cocked back. His grays were covered in blotches of juice and pulp. “What’s wrong? Why are you both just sitting here?”

“We’re bored with Rotball,” Paisley said.

Aria winced, waiting for Soren’s reaction. He crossed his arms, his jaw working side to side as he stared down at them.

“Maybe you should leave then. Wait. I almost forgot. You can’t leave. Guess you’ll have to stay bored, Paisley.”

Aria glanced at the airlock door. When had he closed it? She realized he had all the codes for the door and for resetting their Smarteyes. “You can’t trap us in here, Soren.”

“Actions precede reactions.”

“What’s he talking about?” Paisley asked.

“Soren! Get over here,” Bane called. “You need to see this!”

“Ladies. I’m needed elsewhere.”

He tossed the avocado into the air before he jogged away. Aria caught it without thinking. It popped open in her hand, becoming a slick green mess.

“He means we’re too late, Pais. He already locked us out.”

Aria checked the airlock door anyway. The panel didn’t respond. She stared at the red emergency switch. It was wired directly to the mainframe. If she hit it, Reverie Guardians would come to help them. But then they’d also be punished for breaking out and probably have their privileges in the Realms docked. And she’d lose any chance to speak with Soren about her mother.

“We’ll stay a little longer. They’ll have to go back soon.”

Paisley pulled her hair over one shoulder. “All right. But can I hold your hand again? It feels more like being in the Realms.”

Aria stared at her best friend’s extended hand. Paisley’s fingers were twitching slightly. She took her hand, but fought the urge to pull away as they walked to the far end of the dome together. There, the three boys stepped through a door Aria hadn’t noticed before. Another set of lights clicked on. For a moment, she wondered if her Smarteye had reactivated and she was actually seeing a Realm. A forest loomed in front of them, beautiful and green. Then she looked up, seeing the familiar white ceiling above the treetops, run through by a maze of lights and pipes. It was a huge terrarium, she realized.

“I found it,” Bane said. “How champ am I?”

Echo jerked his head to the side, his shaggy hair shifting out of his eyes. “Champ, man. It’s unreal. I mean, it’s real. Zap, you know what I mean.”

They both looked at Soren. “Perfect,” he said, his gaze intent. He pulled off his shirt, tossed it aside, and ran into the woods. In the next moment, Bane and Echo followed.

“We’re not going in, are we?” Paisley asked.

“Not like that.”

“Aria, be serious.”

“Pais, look at this place.” She stepped forward. Rotten fruit was one thing. A forest was a true temptation. “We’ve got to see it.”

It was cooler and darker under the trees. Aria ran her free hand over the trunks, feeling the rough textures. Pseudo-bark didn’t grip like it might bite into her skin. She crushed a dry leaf in her palm, creating sharp crumbs. She stared at the patterns of leaves and branches above, imagining that if the boys quieted down, she might be able to hear the trees breathe.

Aria kept track of Soren as they headed deeper into the woods, looking for an opportunity to speak to him, while trying to ignore the moist warmth of Paisley’s hand. She and Paisley had held hands before in the Realms, where touching happened. But it felt softer there, unlike the constricting grip she felt now.

The boys were chasing one another through the woods. They’d found sticks, which they carried as spears, and they’d rubbed dirt on their faces and chests. They were pretending to be Savages, like the ones that lived on the outside.

“Soren!” Aria called as he darted past. He paused, spear in hand, and hissed at her. She jerked back. Soren laughed at her and ran off.

Paisley pulled her to a stop. “They’re scaring me.”

“I know. They’re always massive scary.”

“Not the boys. The trees. It feels like they’re going to fall on us.”

Aria looked up. As different as these woods felt, she hadn’t thought of that. “All right. We’ll go wait by the airlock,” she said, and began to backtrack. A few minutes later, she realized they’d come to a clearing they had already passed. They were lost in the woods. She almost laughed at how unbelievable it was. She let go of Paisley’s hand and rubbed her palm against her pants.

“We’re going in circles. Let’s wait here until the boys come by. Don’t worry, Pais. It’s still Reverie. See?” She pointed up through the leaves at the ceiling and then wished she hadn’t. The lights above dimmed, flickered for a moment, and then came back.

“Tell me that didn’t just happen,” Paisley said.

“We’re leaving. This was a stupid idea.” Was this the part of Ag 6 that had taken the damage?

“Bane! Get over here!” Soren yelled. Aria spun, catching a glimpse of his tanned torso jogging through the trees. This was her chance. She could talk to him now if she hurried. If she left Paisley there alone.

Paisley gave her a shaky smile. “Aria, go. Talk to him. But hurry back.”

“I promise.”

Soren was hoisting a stack of branches into his arms when she found him.

“We’re going to make fire,” he said.

Aria froze. “You’re kidding. You’re not really . . . right?”

“We’re Outsiders. Outsiders have fires.”

“But we’re still inside. You can’t, Soren. This isn’t a Realm.”

“Exactly. This is our chance to see the real thing.”

“Soren, it’s forbidden.” Fire in the Realms was a rippling orange and yellow light that gave off a gentle warmth. But she knew from years of Pod safety drills that real fire must be different. “You could contaminate our air. You could burn down Reverie—”

She broke off as Soren stepped closer. Water beaded on his forehead. It cut clear trails through the mud on his face and chest. He was sweating. She’d never seen sweat before.

He leaned in. “I can do anything I want in here. Anything.”

“I know you can. We all can. Right?”

Soren paused. “Right.”

This was it. Her opportunity. She chose her words carefully. “You know things, don’t you? Like the codes that got us here. . . . Things we’re not supposed to know?”

“Of course I do.”

Aria smiled and slipped around the branches in his arms. She rolled up onto her toes, inviting him to whisper. “Well, tell me a secret. Tell me something we’re not supposed to know.”

“Like what?”

The lights flickered again. Aria’s heart gave a lurch. “Tell me what’s going on with Bliss,” she said, making her best attempt at sounding casual.

Soren stepped back. He shook his head slowly, his eyes narrowing. “You want to know about your mother, don’t you? Is that why you came here? You’ve been playing me?”

Aria couldn’t lie anymore. “Just tell me why the link is still down. I need to know if she’s all right.”

Soren’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “I might let you persuade me later,” he said. Then he pushed his shoulders back, shifting the branches higher. “Right now I’m discovering fire.”

Aria hurried back to the clearing for Paisley. She found Bane and Echo there as well. The brothers were building up a pile of branches and leaves at the center. Paisley rushed over as soon as she saw Aria.

“They’ve been doing this since you left. They’re trying to make fire.”

“I know. Let’s go.” Six thousand people lived in Reverie. She couldn’t let Soren risk everything.

Aria heard the clatter of sticks falling just before something struck her shoulder. She cried out as Soren spun her to face him.

“No one’s leaving. I thought I made that clear.”

She stared at the hand on her shoulder, her legs softening beneath her. “Let go of me, Soren. We’re not getting involved.”

“Too late.” His fingers dug into her. She gasped at the shock wave of pain that ran down her arm. Bane dropped the large branch he’d been dragging and looked over. Echo stopped midstride, his eyes wide, wild. The lights shone off their skin. They were sweating too.

“If you leave,” Soren said, “I’ll tell my father this was your idea. With our Smarteyes shut off, it’s your word against mine. Who do you think he’ll believe?”

“You’re insane.”

Soren let her go. “Shut up and sit down.” He grinned. “And enjoy the show.”

Aria sat with Paisley at the edge of the tree line and fought the urge to rub her throbbing shoulder. In the Realms, falling off a horse hurt. Twisting an ankle did too. But pain was just an effect, sprinkled in to boost the thrill. They couldn’t actually get hurt in the Realms. This felt different. Like there was no limit to the pain. Like it could go on forever.

Bane and Echo made one trip after another into the woods, bringing back armfuls of branches and leaves. Soren directed them to place more here, more there, as sweat dripped off his nose. Aria eyed the lights. At least they were holding steady.

She couldn’t believe she’d let herself—and Paisley—get into this situation. She’d known going into Ag 6 meant risk, but she hadn’t expected this. She had never wanted to be part of Soren’s clique, though he’d always interested her. Aria liked looking for the fissures in his image. The way he watched people when they laughed, like he didn’t understand laughter. The way he curled his upper lip after he said something he thought particularly clever. The way he glanced at her occasionally, like he knew she wasn’t convinced.

Now she realized what had intrigued her. Through those fissures, she’d seen glimpses of someone else. And out here, without Reverie Guardians watching, he was free to be himself.

“I’m going to get us out of here,” she whispered.

Tears pooled in Paisley’s bare eye. “Shhh. He’ll hear you.”

Aria noticed the brittle crackle of the leaves beneath her and wondered when the trees had last been watered. She watched the pile grow one foot high, then two. Finally, with the pile at nearly three feet, Soren declared it ready.

He reached into his boot and brought out a battery pack and some wire, handing them to Bane.

Aria couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “You planned this? You came here to make fire?”

Soren smiled at her, his lip curling. “I’ve got other things in mind too.”

Aria sucked in a breath. He had to be kidding. He was just trying to scare her because she’d led him on, but she’d had no choice.

The boys huddled together as Soren muttered, “Try it like this,” and “Other end, stupid,” and “Just let me do it,” until they jumped back, away from the flame that flickered up from the leaves.

“Oh, zap!” they yelled in perfect unison. “Fire!”

Chapter 2

ARIA

Magic.

That was the word that came to Aria’s mind. An old word, from a time when illusions still mystified people. Before the Realms made magic common.

She moved closer, drawn by the gold and amber tones in the flame. By the way it changed shape constantly. The smoke was richer than anything she had ever smelled. It tightened the skin along her arms. Then she saw how the burning leaves curled and blackened and disappeared.

This was wrong.

Aria looked up. Soren had frozen in place, his eyes wide. He looked bewitched, just as Paisley and the brothers did. Like they were seeing the fire without really seeing it.

“That’s enough,” she said. “We should turn it off . . . or get water or something.” No one moved. “Soren, it’s starting to spread.”

“Let’s give it more.”

“More? Trees are made of wood. It’ll spread to the trees!”

Echo and Bane ran off before she’d finished speaking.

Paisley grabbed her sleeve, pulling her away from the burning stack. “Aria, stop or he’ll hurt you again.”

“This whole place is going to burn if we don’t do something.”

She glanced back. Soren stood too close to the fire. The flames had nearly reached his height. The fire made sounds now, pops and crackles over a dull roar. “Get sticks!” he yelled at the brothers. “The sticks make it stronger.”

Aria didn’t know what to do. When she thought of stopping them the ache in her shoulder flared, warning her of what might happen again. Echo and Bane ran up with armfuls of branches. They threw them onto the fire, sending sparks into the trees. A surge of hot air blew past her cheeks.

“We’re going to run, Paisley,” she whispered. “Ready . . . go.”

For the third time that night, Aria grasped Paisley’s hand. She couldn’t let Paisley fall behind. She wove through the trees, her legs churning, as she tried to keep them on a straight course. She didn’t know when the boys started chasing them, but she heard Soren behind her.

“Find them!” he yelled. “Spread out!”

Then Aria heard a loud wailing sound that brought her to a halt. Soren was howling like a wolf. Paisley’s hand clamped over her mouth, stifling a sob. Bane and Echo joined in, filling the woods with wild, keening cries. What was happening to them? Aria broke into a run again, tugging Paisley so hard that she stumbled.

“Come on, Paisley! We’re close!” They had to be near the door leading back to the farming dome. When they reached it, she’d trip the emergency alarm. Then they’d hide until Guardians came.

The lights overhead flickered again. This time they didn’t come back. Darkness slammed into Aria like something solid. She went rigid. Paisley rammed into her back and cried out. They tumbled blindly to the ground, their limbs crashing together. Aria scrambled upright, blinking hard as she tried to orient herself. Eyes opened or closed, what she saw didn’t change.

Paisley’s fingers fluttered over her face. “Aria! Is it you?”

“Yes, it’s me,” she whispered. “Quiet or they’ll hear us!”

“Bring the fire!” Soren yelled. “Get some fire so we can see!”

“What are they going to do to us?” Paisley asked.

“I don’t know. But I won’t let them get close enough to find out.”

Paisley tensed at her side. “Do you see that?”

She did. A torch wove toward them from the distance. Aria recognized the solid tromp of Soren’s stride. He was farther than she expected, but she realized it didn’t matter. She and Paisley couldn’t move without crawling and feeling along in front of them. Even if they knew which way to go, moving a few feet would hardly help.

A second flame appeared.

Aria groped for a rock or a stick. Leaves disintegrated in her hands. She smothered a cough against her sleeve. Every breath tightened her lungs more. She’d been worried about Soren and the fire. Now she realized the smoke might pose the worst danger.

The torches bobbed across the darkness, drawing closer. She wished her mother had never left. She wished she’d never sung to Soren. But wishing wasn’t going to get her anywhere. There had to be something she could do. She turned her focus inward. Maybe she could reset her Smarteye and call for help. She reached for commands as she always had. Even in her mind, she felt as though she were fumbling in the dark. How did you restart something that had never been turned off?

It didn’t help her concentration to see the torches closing in, or the fire burning brighter and louder, or to feel Paisley quivering against her side. But she had no other hope. Finally she felt a tap in the depths of her brain. A word appeared on her Smartscreen, blue letters floating against the smoldering woods.

RESTART?

Yes! she commanded.

Aria tensed as hot nails dragged across her skull and down her spine. She gasped in relief as a grid of icons appeared. She was back on, but everything looked strange. All the buttons on her interface were generic and in the wrong places. And what was that? She saw a message icon on her screen labeled “Songbird,” her mother’s nickname for her. Lumina had sent a message! But the file was stored locally and wouldn’t help her now. She needed to reach someone.

Aria tried contacting Lumina directly. CONNECTION FAILURE flashed on her screen, followed by an error number. She tried Caleb and the next ten friends who came to mind. Nothing went through. She wasn’t linked to the Realms. She made a final attempt. Maybe her Eye was still recording.

REVIEW, she commanded.

Paisley’s face appeared in the playback square on the upper left of her Smartscreen. Paisley was hardly visible, just the contours of her frightened face and the glint of the fire catching on her Smarteye. Behind her a glowing cloud of smoke seeped closer. “They’re coming!” Paisley said in a frantic whisper, and the recording ended.

Aria commanded her Eye to record again. Whatever happened, whatever Soren and the brothers did, she’d have proof.

The lights flashed back on. Squinting at the brightness, Aria saw Soren scanning the area, Bane and Echo at his side like a pack of wolves. Their eyes flared as they spotted her and Paisley. She jumped to her feet, pulling Paisley up once more. Aria ran, holding tight to Paisley, tripping over roots and pushing through branches that snagged her hair. The boys’ shouts were loud, rumbling in Aria’s ears. Their feet pounded right behind her.

Paisley’s hand tore from Aria’s grip. Aria spun as she fell to the ground. Paisley’s hair splayed over the leaves. She reached for Aria, crying out. Soren lay half on top of her, his arms wrapped around her legs.

Before Aria could think, she slammed her foot into Soren’s head. He grunted and fell back. Paisley twisted away but Soren lunged for her again.

“Let her go!” Aria stepped toward him, but he was ready for her this time. His hand shot out, clamping onto Aria’s ankle.

“Run, Paisley!” Aria yelled.

She struggled to get free but Soren wouldn’t let go. He rose to his feet and grabbed on to her forearm. Leaves and dirt stuck to his face and chest. Behind him, smoke tumbled through the trees in gray waves, moving slow and fast at the same time. Aria looked down. Soren’s hand was twice the size of hers, rounded with muscle like the rest of him.

“Can’t you feel it, Aria?”

“Feel what?”

“This.” He squeezed her arm so tight she cried out. “Everything.” His eyes darted around, not settling anywhere.

“Don’t, Soren. Please.”

Bane ran up, holding a torch and panting for breath.

“Help, Bane!” she cried. He didn’t even look at her.

“Go get Paisley,” Soren said, and Bane was gone. “Just you and me now,” he said, stroking a hand through her hair.

“Don’t touch me. I’m recording this. If you hurt me, everyone will see it!”

She hit the ground before she realized what had happened. His weight crushed her, driving the air out of her lungs. He glared down at her as she gasped, struggling to draw a breath. Then his focus moved to her left eye. Aria knew what he was going to do but her arms were trapped, squeezed between his thighs. She closed her eyes and screamed as his fingers dug into her skin, prying up the edges of her Smarteye. Aria’s head snapped forward and then slammed back to the ground.

Pain. Like her brain had been torn out. Above her, Soren’s face looked red and bleary. Warmth spread down her cheek and pooled in her ear. The pain lessened and became pulses, beating in time with her heart.

“You’re crazy,” someone with her voice slurred.

Soren’s fingers clamped around her neck. “This is real. Tell me you feel it.”

Aria still couldn’t pull in enough air. Spears of pain shot into her eyes. She was fading, powering off like her Smarteye. Then Soren looked up—away from her—and his grip loosened. He cursed and then his smothering weight lifted.

Aria pushed herself to her knees, gritting her teeth at the piercing shriek that erupted in her ears. She couldn’t see. She swiped at her eyes to clear the murkiness, her legs quaking as she rose to her feet. Framed against the roaring blaze, she saw a stranger step into the clearing. He was shirtless, but there was no mistaking him for Bane or Echo.

He was a real Savage.

The Outsider’s torso was almost as dark as his leather pants, his hair a blond Medusa’s snarl. Tattoos coiled around his arms. He had the reflective eyes of an animal. They were bare eyes, both.

The long knife at his side flashed with firelight as he came forward.

Chapter 3
PEREGRINE

The Dweller girl looked at Perry, blood running down her pale face. She took a few steps, backing away from him, but Perry knew she wouldn’t stay on her feet for long. Not with pupils dilated like that. One more step and her legs gave out, bringing her down.

The male stood behind her limp body. He looked Perry over with his odd eyes, one normal and one covered with the clear patch all the Dwellers wore. The others had called him Soren.

“Outsider?” he said. “How did you get in?”

It was Perry’s language but harsher. Edged where it should have been smooth. Perry brought in a slow breath. The Dweller’s temper hung thick in the clearing despite the smoke. Bloodlust gave a scorching red scent, common to man and beast alike.

“You came when we did.” Soren laughed. “You came after I disarmed the system.”

Perry spun his knife for a fresh grip. Didn’t the Dweller see the fire closing in? “Leave or you’ll burn, Dweller.”

Soren startled at hearing Perry speak. Then he grinned, showing square teeth, white as snow. “You’re real. I don’t believe this.” He stepped forward with no fear. Like he held a knife instead of Perry. “If I could leave, Savage, I’d have done it a long time ago.”

Perry stood a head taller, but Soren easily outweighed him. His bones were buried deep beneath muscle. Perry seldom saw people that big. They didn’t have enough food to grow that thick. Not like in here.

“You approach your death, Mole,” Perry said.

“Mole? That’s inaccurate, Savage. Most of the Pod is aboveground. And we don’t die young. We don’t get hurt, either. We can’t even break anything.” Soren looked down at the girl. When he looked back at Perry, he stopped walking. It happened too fast, his momentum rocking him up on his toes. He’d changed his mind about something.

Soren’s eyes flicked past him. Perry drew in a breath. Woodsmoke. Burning plastic. The fire was heating up. He inhaled again, caught what he’d expected. Another Dweller’s scent, coming at him from behind. He’d seen three males. Soren and two others. Were they both sneaking up on him, or just one? Perry drew another breath but couldn’t tell. The smoke was too dense.

Soren’s gaze dropped to Perry’s hand. “You’re good with a knife, aren’t you?”

“Good enough.”

“Have you ever killed a person? I bet you have.”

He was buying time, letting whoever was behind Perry draw nearer.

“Never killed a Mole,” Perry said. “Not yet.”

Soren smiled. Then he surged forward and Perry knew the others would be coming too. He spun and saw only one Dweller, farther away than he’d expected, running with a metal bar in his hand. Perry hurled his knife. The blade sailed true and sank deep in the Dweller’s stomach.

Soren thundered up behind him. Perry braced as he turned. The blow came from the side, slamming into Perry’s cheek. The ground reared up and back. Perry wrapped his arms around Soren as he blurred past. He pushed but couldn’t bring Soren down. The Mole was made of stone.

Perry took a shot to his kidney and growled, waiting for the pain. It didn’t hurt as much as it should have. Soren hit him again. Perry heard himself laugh. The Dweller didn’t know how to use his own strength.

He pushed away, throwing his first punch. His fist smashed into the clear eye patch. Soren seized up, the veins in his neck standing out like vines. Perry didn’t wait. He put his full weight behind the next blow. The bone in the Dweller’s jaw snapped with a crack. Soren fell hard. Then he tucked in slow, like a dying spider.

Blood ran through his teeth. His jaw hung too far to the side, but he never took his eyes off Perry.

Perry swore, stepping away. This wasn’t what he had wanted when he’d broken in. “I warned you, Mole.”

The lights had gone out again. Smoke moved through the trees in rolls, glowing with firelight. He went to the other male to retrieve his knife. The Dweller began to cry when he saw Perry. Blood gurgled from his wound. Perry couldn’t look him in the eyes as he slid his blade free.

He came back to the girl. Her hair fanned around her head, dark and shiny as a raven’s feathers. Perry spotted her eyepiece resting on the leaves by her shoulder. He prodded it with a finger. The skin felt cool. Velvety as a mushroom. Denser than he’d expected for looking so much like a jellyfish. He slipped it into his satchel. Then he hoisted the girl over his shoulder as he carried larger game, wrapping his arm around her legs to keep her steady.

Neither of his Senses were any help to him now. The smoke had grown thick enough to cloak all other smells and block his vision, making him disoriented. There were no rises and falls in the earth to guide him either. Only walls of flame or smoke wherever he looked.

He moved when the fire inhaled. He stopped when it exhaled in bursts of heat that scorched his legs and arms. Tears streamed from his eyes, making it harder to see. He pushed on, feeling skitty and drunk from the smoke. Finally he found a channel of clean air and ran, the Dweller girl’s head lolling against his back.

Perry reached the dome wall, followed it. At some point there had to be a way out. It took longer than he hoped. He stumbled up to the same door he’d come through earlier, stepping into a steel room. By then every breath felt like embers kindling in his lungs.

He set the girl down, closed the door. Then for a good while, he could only cough and pace until the pain behind his nose let up. He swiped at his eyes, leaving a streak of blood and soot on his forearm. His bow and quiver rested against the wall were where he’d left them. The curve of his bow looked stark against the room’s perfect lines.

Perry knelt, wobbling as he did, and looked the Dweller over. Her eye had stopped bleeding. She was finely made. Thin, dark eyebrows. Pink lips. Skin as smooth as milk. His gut told him they were close in age, but with skin like that he wasn’t sure. He’d been watching her from his perch in a tree. How she’d stared at leaves in wonder. He nearly hadn’t needed his nose to know her temper. Her face showed every small emotion.

Perry brushed her black hair away from her neck and leaned close. With his nose blunted by smoke, this was the only way. He drew in a breath. Her flesh wasn’t as pungent as the other Dwellers’, but it was still off. Warm blood but a rancy, decaying scent as well. He inhaled again, curious, but her mind was deep in the unconscious so she gave off no temper.

He thought about bringing her with him, but Dwellers died on the outside. This room was her best chance to survive the fire. He’d planned to check on the other girl too. No chance of that anymore.

He stood. “You better live, little Mole,” he said. “After all this.”

Then he sealed the door behind him and stepped into another chamber, this one crushed by an Aether strike. Perry ducked through the crumbling dark corridor. The way grew tighter, forcing him to crawl over broken cement and warped metal, pushing his bow and satchel ahead of him, until he was back in his world.

Straightening, he drew a deep breath of the night. Welcomed the clean air into his singed lungs. Alarms broke the silence, first muted through the rubble, then blaring all around him, so loud he felt the sound thrum in his chest. Perry looped the strap of his satchel and quiver over his shoulder, took up his bow, and pulled foot, sprinting through the cool predawn.

An hour later, with the Dweller fortress no more than a mound in the distance, he sat to give his pounding head a break. It was morning, already warm in the Shield Valley, a dry stretch of land that reached nearly to his home two days to the north. He let his head fall against his forearm.

Smoke clung to his hair and skin. He scented it with every breath. Dweller smoke wasn’t like theirs. It smelled like molten steel and chemicals that burned hotter than fire. His left cheek throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the core of pain behind his nose. The muscles in his thighs twitched, still running away from the alarms.

It was bad enough he’d broken into the Dweller fortress. His brother would cast him out for that alone. But he’d tangled with the Moles. Probably killed at least one of them. The Tides didn’t have problems with the Dwellers like other tribes did. Perry wondered if he’d just changed that.

He reached for his satchel and rummaged through the leather pack. His fingers brushed something cool and velvety. Perry swore. He’d forgotten to leave the girl’s eye patch behind. He brought it out, examining it in his palm. It caught the blue light of the Aether like a huge water droplet.

He’d heard the Moles as soon as he’d broken into the wooded area. Their laughing voices had echoed from the farming space. He’d crept over and watched them, stunned to see so much food left to rot. He’d planned to leave after a few minutes, but by then he’d gotten curious about the girl. When Soren tore the eyepiece from her face, he couldn’t stand by and watch any longer, even if she was just a Mole.

Perry slipped the eye patch back into his satchel, thinking to sell it when traders came around in spring. Dweller gadgets fetched a sizey price, and there were plenty of things his people needed, to say nothing of his nephew, Talon. Perry dug deeper into the bag, past his shirt, vest, and water skin, until he found what he wanted.

The apple’s skin shone more softly than the eyepiece. Perry ran his thumbs over it, following its curves. He’d bagged it in the farming space. The one thing he had thought to grab as he’d stalked the Moles. He brought the apple to his nose and breathed in the sweet scent, his mouth filling with saliva.

It was a stupid gift. Not even why he’d broken in.

And not nearly enough.

Chapter 4

PEREGRINE

Perry strode into the Tide compound near midnight, four days after he’d left. He stopped in the central clearing, inhaled the briny smell of home. The ocean was a good thirty minutes’ walk to the west, but fishermen carried the scent of their trade everywhere. Perry rubbed a hand over his hair, still wet from his swim. Tonight he smelled a bit like a fisherman himself.

Perry shifted the bow and quiver over his back. With no game slung over his shoulder, he had no reason to follow his usual path to the cookhouse so he stayed where he was, taking in fresh what he knew by heart. Homes made of stones rounded by time. Wooden doors and shutters worn by salt air and rain. As weather-beaten as the compound was, it looked sturdy. Like a root growing aboveground.

He preferred the compound like this, in the dead of night. With winter coming and food in such shortage, Perry had grown used to anxious tempers clotting the air during the day. But after dark, the cloud of human emotions lifted, leaving quieter scents. The cooling earth, opened like a flower to the sky. The musk of nighttime animals, making paths he could follow with ease.

Even his eyes favored this time. Contours were more crisp. Movement easier to track. Between his nose and his eyes, he figured he was made for the night.

He drew in his last breath of open air, steeling himself, then stepped into his brother’s home. His gaze swept over the wooden table and the two ragged leather chairs before the hearth, then rose to the loft nestled against the roof timbers. Finally he relaxed as his eyes settled on the closed door that led to the only bedroom. Vale wasn’t awake. His brother would be asleep with Talon, his son.

Perry moved to the table and inhaled slowly. Grief hung thick and heavy, out of place in the colorful room. It pressed in along the edges of his vision like a bleak gray fog. Perry also caught the smoke from the dying fire, the tang of Luster from the clay pitcher on the wooden table. A month had passed since his brother’s wife, Mila, had died. Her scent was faded, almost gone.

Perry tapped the rim of the blue pitcher with a finger. He’d watched Mila decorate the handle with yellow flowers last spring. Mila’s touch was everywhere. In the ceramic plates and the bowls she’d shaped. The rugs she’d woven and the glass jars full of beads she’d painted. She’d been a Seer. Gifted with uncommon sight. Like most Seers, Mila had cared about the looks of things. On her deathbed, when her hands could no longer weave or paint or mold clay, she’d told stories and filled them with the colors she loved.

Perry leaned his weight on the table, suddenly weak and weary with missing her. He had no right to brood, with his brother who’d lost a wife and his nephew who’d lost a mother hurting far more. But she’d been his family too.

He turned to the bedroom door. He wanted to see Talon. But judging by the empty pitcher, Vale had been drinking. A meeting with his older brother now would be too risky.

For a moment, he let himself imagine how it would be, challenging Vale for Blood Lord. Acting on a need as real as thirst. He’d make changes if he led the Tides. Take the risks his brother avoided. The tribe couldn’t go on cowering in place for much longer. Not with game so scarce and the Aether storms growing worse every winter. Rumors spoke of safer lands with still, blue skies, but Perry wasn’t sure. What he did know was that the Tides needed a Blood Lord who’d take action—and his brother didn’t want to budge.

Perry looked down at his worn leather boots. Here he was. Standing still. No better than Vale. He cursed and shook his head. Tossed his satchel up to the loft. Then he pulled off his boots, climbed up, and lay staring at the rafters. It was stupid to daydream about something he’d never do. He’d leave before it came to that.

He hadn’t yet closed his eyes when he heard a door whine and then the ladder jostle. Talon, a small, dark blur, catapulted over the top rung, buried himself beneath the blanket, and went still as stone. Perry climbed over Talon to the ladder side. The space was cramped, and he didn’t want his nephew taking a tumble in his sleep.

“How come you never move that fast when we’re hunting?” he teased.

Nothing. Not even a stir under the blanket. Talon had fallen into long stretches of silence since his mother’s death, but he’d never stopped speaking with Perry. Considering what had happened the last time they’d been together, Perry wasn’t surprised by his nephew’s silence. He’d made a mistake. Lately he’d made too many.

“Guess you don’t want to know what I brought you.” Talon still didn’t bite. “Shame,” Perry said after a moment. “You’d have loved it.”

“I know,” Talon said, his seven-year-old voice bright with pride. “A shell.”

“It’s not a shell, but it’s a good guess. I did go for a swim.” Before coming home, Perry had spent an hour scrubbing the scents from his skin and hair with handfuls of sand. He’d had to, or one whiff and his brother would know where he’d been. Vale had strict rules against roaming near the Dwellers.

“Why are you hiding, Talon? Come out of there.” He drew the blanket back. Talon’s scent came at him in a fetid wave. Perry rocked back, hands fisting, his breath catching in his throat. Talon’s scent was too much like Mila’s had been when the illness came in force. He wanted to believe it was a mistake. That Talon was well and would grow to see another year. But scents never lied.

People thought being a Scire meant having power. Being Marked—gifted with a dominant Sense—was rare. But even among the Marked, Perry was unique for having two Senses. As a Seer, he made a skilled archer. But only Scires with noses as strong as Perry’s could breathe and know despair or fear. Useful things to know about an enemy, but when it came to family felt more like a curse. Mila’s decline had been hard, but with Talon, Perry had grown to hate his nose for what it told him.

He forced himself to face his nephew. Firelight from below reflected off the rafters. It outlined the curve of Talon’s cheeks with an orange glow. Lit the tips of his eyelashes. Perry looked at his dying nephew and couldn’t think of a single thing worth saying. Talon already knew everything he felt. He knew Perry would trade places in an instant if he could.

“I know it’s getting worse,” Talon said. “My legs get numb sometimes. . . . Sometimes I can’t scent as good, but nothing hurts too bad.” He turned his face into the blanket. “I knew you’d get wrathy.”

“Talon, I’m not—it’s not you I’m wrathy with.”

Perry drew a few breaths against the tightness in his chest, his anger mixing with his nephew’s guilt, making it difficult to think clearly. He knew love. He loved his sister, Liv, and Mila, and he could remember feeling love for Vale as nearly as a year ago. But with Talon, love was only part of it. Talon’s sorrow dropped him like a stone. His worry made Perry pace. His joy felt like flying. In the span of a breath, Talon’s needs became Perry’s own.

Scires called it being rendered. The bond had always made life simple for Perry. Talon’s well-being came first. For the past seven years that had meant plenty of roughhousing. Teaching Talon to walk and then swim. Teaching him to track game and shoot a bow and dress his kills. Easy things. Talon loved everything Perry did. But since Mila had fallen ill, it wasn’t as simple anymore. He couldn’t keep Talon well or happy. But he knew he helped Talon by being there. By staying with him as long as he could.

“What’s the thing?” Talon asked.

“What thing?”

“The thing you brought for me.”

“Ah, that.” The apple. He wanted to tell Talon, but there were Audiles in the tribe with hearing as keen as his sense of smell. And there was Vale, an even bigger problem. Perry couldn’t risk Vale scenting it. With winter only weeks away, all the trading for the year was done. Vale would have questions about where Perry got the apple. He didn’t need any more trouble with his brother than he already had.

“It has to wait until tomorrow.” He’d have to give the apple to Talon a few miles away from the compound. For now it would stay wrapped in an old scrap of plastic, buried deep inside his satchel with the Dweller eyepiece.

“Is it good?”

Perry crossed his arms behind his head. “Come on, Tal. Can’t believe you asked me that.”

Talon muffled a giggle. “You smell like sweaty seaweed, Uncle Perry.”

“Sweaty seaweed?”

“Yeah. The kind that’s been on the rocks for a few days.”

Perry laughed, nudging him in the ribs. “Thanks, Squeak.”

Talon nudged him back. “You’re welcome, Squawk.”

They lay for a few minutes, breathing together in the quiet. Through a crack in the timbers, Perry could see a sliver of the Aether swirling in the sky. On calmer days, it was like being on the underside of waves, seeing the Aether roll and pitch above. Other times it flowed like rapids, furious and blazing blue. Fire and water, come together in the sky. Winter was the season for Aether storms, but in the past years the storms were starting earlier and lasting longer. Already they’d had a few. The last nearly wiped out the tribe’s sheep, the flock too far from the compound to be brought to safety in time. Vale called it a phase, said the storms would lessen soon enough. Perry disagreed.

Talon shifted beside him. Perry knew he wasn’t asleep. His nephew’s temper had grown dark and damp. Eventually it tightened like a belt around Perry’s heart. He swallowed, his throat raw and aching. “What is it, Talon?”

“I thought you’d left. I thought you dispersed after what happened with my dad.”

Perry let out a slow breath. Four nights ago he and Vale had sat at the table below, passing a bottle back and forth. For the first time in what seemed like months, they’d talked as brothers. About Mila’s death and about Talon. Even the best medicines Vale traded for weren’t helping anymore. They didn’t say it but both of them knew. Talon would be lucky to live through winter.

When Vale started to slur, Perry told himself to leave. Luster sweetened Perry but it did the opposite for Vale. Turned him rabid, just like it had their father. But Perry stayed because Vale was talking and so was he. Then Perry made a comment about moving the tribe away from the compound to safer land. A stupid comment. He knew where it’d lead, where it always led. Arguments. Angry words. This time Vale hadn’t said anything. He’d just reached out and cuffed Perry across the jaw. Given him a sharp knock that had felt familiar and horrible at once.

He’d swung back, pure reflex, catching Vale on the nose, starting them both grabbing and swinging across the table. Next thing he knew, Talon stood at the bedroom door, sleepy and stunned. Perry had looked from Vale to Talon. Same serious green eyes, both pairs fixed on Perry. Asking him how could he give a new widower a bloody nose? In his own house and in front of his dying son?

Shamed and still in a fury, Perry had left. He’d gone straight to the Dweller fortress. Maybe Vale couldn’t find medicines to help Talon, but he’d heard rumors about the Moles. So he’d broken in, wild and desperate to do something right. Now he had an apple and a useless Dweller eyepiece.

Perry pulled Talon close. “I was stupid, Tal. I wasn’t thinking straight. That night should never have happened. But I do need to leave.”

He should have done it already. Coming back meant seeing Vale. He didn’t know if they could keep pacing around each other after what had happened. But Perry couldn’t let that be the last memory Talon had, him slamming his fist into Vale’s face.

“When will you go?” Talon asked.

“I thought I’d try . . . maybe I can hang on . . .” He swallowed. Words never came easy, even with Talon. “Soon. Sleep, Tal. I’m here now.”

Talon buried his face into Perry’s chest. Perry pinned his gaze on the Aether as Talon’s cool tears seeped through his shirt. Through the crack above, he watched the blue flows circling, churning in eddies this way and that, like they weren’t sure which way to go. People said that the Marked had the Aether flowing through their blood. Heating them up and giving them their Sense. It was just a saying, but Perry knew it had to be true. Most of the time he didn’t think he was very different from the Aether at all.

It was a long while before Talon grew heavy in Perry’s arms. By then his shoulder had gone numb, pinned beneath Talon’s head, but he kept his nephew there and slept.

Perry dreamed he was back in the Dweller fire, following the girl. She ran ahead of him through the smoke and flames. He couldn’t see her face but knew her raven-black hair. Knew her off-putting scent. He chased after her. Needed to reach her, though he didn’t know why. He was just sure in that certain senseless way of dreams.

Perry woke sweated to his clothes with both his legs cramping. Some instinct kept him still when he wanted to rub the soreness out of his muscles. Dust motes swirled in the dim loft, how he imagined scents must look, always churning through the air. Below, floorboards groaned with the sound of his brother moving around. Adding wood to the hearth. Getting the fire going again. Perry peered at the satchel by his feet, hoping the worn layer of plastic would keep Vale off the scents wrapped within.

The ladder creaked. Vale was climbing up. Talon slept curled against Perry’s side, a small fist tucked under his chin, his brown hair wet with sweat. The creaking stopped.

Vale breathed just behind him, the sound loud in the quiet. Perry couldn’t scent Vale’s tempers. As brothers, their noses skipped past the tones, reading them as their own. But Perry imagined a bitter red scent.

He saw a knife reaching over him. For a panicked, mindless instant, Perry was shocked his brother would go about killing him this way. Challenges for Blood Lord were supposed to be held in the open, before the tribe. There was a way of things. But this had begun over the kitchen table. Wrong from the start. Talon would be hurt, no matter whether Perry left or died or won.

In the next instant, Perry realized it wasn’t a knife. Only Vale’s hand, reaching for Talon. He rested his hand on his son’s head. Vale held it there a moment, brushing Talon’s damp hair from his forehead. Then he padded down the ladder and across the room below. The loft flooded with light as the front door opened and closed, leaving the house in silence.

Chapter 5

ARIA

Aria woke in a room she’d never seen before. She winced, pressing her fingers against the throbbing at her temples. Heavy fabric crinkled over her arms. She peered down. A white suit covered her from neck to feet. She wiggled her fingers inside loose-fitting gloves. Whose clothes was she wearing?

She sucked in a breath as she recognized the Medsuit. Lumina had told her about therapeutic garments like this. How could she be sick? Reverie’s sterile environment eradicated disease. Genetic engineers like her mother kept them physically well. But she didn’t feel well right now. Gingerly she turned her head left and right. Even the smallest movements brought shocking aches.

She sat up slowly, gasping at the sharp pinch in the crook of her elbow. A tube filled with clear liquid poked out of a patch in the suit by her arm and disappeared into the thick base of the bed. Her head pounded and her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

She sent a hurried message. Lumina, something’s happened. I don’t know what’s going on. Mom? Where are you?

A steel counter ran along one side of the room. A regress screen sat on top, two-dimensional, like the sort used a long time ago. Aria saw a series of lines on it, the vital signals her suit transmitted.

Why was Lumina taking so long to respond?

Time and location, she requested from her Smarteye. Neither came up. Where was her Smartscreen?

Paisley? Caleb? Where are you?

Aria tried cruising to a beach Realm. One of her favorites. She stiffened as the wrong images streaked through her mind. Burning trees. Smoke that moved like waves. Paisley’s wide-eyed terror. Soren on top of her.

She reached toward her left eye and poked herself, jerking back as she blinked. Nothing but a useless eyeball. She flattened her palm over her naked eye just as a slender man in a doctor’s smock entered the room.

“Hello, Aria. You’re awake.”

“Doctor Ward,” she said, momentarily relieved. Ward was one of her mother’s colleagues, a quiet 5th Gen with a serious, square face. It wasn’t unusual to only have one parent, but a few years earlier Aria had wondered if he was her father. Ward and Lumina were similar, both reserved and consumed by their work. But when Aria asked, Lumina had answered, We have each other, Aria. That’s everything we need.

“Careful,” Ward said. “You have a laceration along your brow that’s not fully healed, but that’s the worst of it. Your tests came out clear on everything else. No infection. No damage to your lungs. Remarkable results considering what you must have gone through.”

Aria didn’t move her hand. She knew how horrible she must look. “Where’s my Smarteye? I can’t get to the Realms. I’m stuck here. With no one.” She bit her lip to keep from rambling.

“Your Smarteye appears to have been lost in the Ag 6 dome. I’ve ordered a new one for you. It should be ready in a few hours. In the meantime, I can increase the dosage of sedative—”

“No,” she said quickly. “No sedatives.” She understood now why her thoughts felt scrambled, like important things had been rearranged or lost altogether. “Where’s my mother?”

“Lumina is in Bliss. The link has been down for a week.”

Aria stared at him. A beeping from the monitor announced the spike in her heartbeat. How could she have forgotten? She’d gone into Ag 6 because of Lumina. But how could Lumina still be unreachable? She remembered resetting the Smarteye and seeing the “Songbird” file.

“That can’t be right,” she said. “My mother sent me a message.”

Ward’s eyebrows drew together. “She did? How do you know it was from her?”

“It was called ‘Songbird.’ Only Lumina calls me that.”

“Did you see the message?”

“No, I didn’t have a chance. Where’s Paisley?”

Ward drew a slow breath before he spoke. “Aria, I am sorry to have to tell you this. Only you and Soren survived. I know you and Paisley were quite close.”

Aria gripped the edges of the bed. “What are you saying?” she heard herself ask. “Are you saying Paisley’s dead?” It wasn’t possible. No one died at seventeen. They easily lived into their second centuries.

The monitor beeped. This time it was louder and persisted.

Ward was talking. “You left the secure zone . . . with disabled Smarteyes. . . . By the time we responded . . .”

All she heard was beep-beep-beep-beep.

Ward trailed off and looked at the medical screen. At a graph that showed, in rising lines and soaring numbers, the collapsing sensation inside her chest.

“I’m sorry, Aria,” he said. The Medsuit stiffened, crinkling as it puffed around her limbs. Cold surged into her arm. She looked down. Blue liquid snaked its way through the tube and disappeared into her Medsuit. Into her. He had ordered the sedative through his Smarteye. Ward stepped closer. “Lay back now before you fall.”

Aria wanted to tell him to stay away, but her lips grew numb and her tongue became a strange limp weight in her mouth. The room lurched to the side as the beeping slowed abruptly. Aria fell back, hitting the mattress with a thud.

Dr. Ward appeared above her, his face anxious. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “It’s the best thing for you now.” Then he left, closing the door soundly behind him.

Aria tried to move. Her limbs felt weighted and pulled, like a magnet held her down. It took all her concentration to bring her hand toward her face. She scared herself, not recognizing the gloves over her fingers or the emptiness around her left eye.

She let her hand fall away, unable to control it any longer. Her arm slipped off the edge of the bed. She saw it, but she couldn’t bring it back.

She closed her eyes. Had something happened to Lumina? Or was it Paisley? Her mind had filled with a thrumming sound, like a tuning fork deep within her skull. Soon she didn’t have a clue what had saddened her.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when Dr. Ward returned. Without a Smarteye, Aria felt like she didn’t know anything.

“I’m sorry I had to sedate you.” He paused, waiting for her to speak. She kept her eyes on the lights above, letting them burn spots into her vision. “They’re ready to begin the investigation.”

An investigation. Was she a criminal now? The Medsuit slackened around her. Ward stepped forward, clearing his throat. Aria flinched as he removed the needle from her arm. She could stand the pain, but not the feel of his hands on her. She pushed herself upright as soon as he stepped back, her mind reeling with dizziness.

“Follow me,” he told her. “The Consuls are expecting you.”

“The Consuls?” They were the most influential people in Reverie, governing all aspects of life in the Pod. “Consul Hess will be there? Soren’s father?”

Dr. Ward nodded. “Of the five, he’ll be the most engaged. He’s the Director of Security.”

“I can’t see him! It was Soren’s fault. He started the fire!”

“Aria, hush! Please don’t say any more.”

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Aria swallowed through a dry throat. “I can’t tell the truth, can I?”

“It won’t do you any good to lie,” Ward said. “They have means to get at the truth.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Come. Any longer and they’ll condemn you solely for making them wait.”

Dr. Ward led her through a wide corridor that curved, so Aria couldn’t see what lay ahead. The Medsuit forced her to walk with her legs and arms slightly apart. Between that and her stiff muscles, she felt like a zombie shuffling after him.

She noticed cracks and streaks of rust along the walls. Reverie had stood nearly three hundred years, but she had never seen signs of its age until now. She’d spent her whole life in the Panop, Reverie’s vast and immaculate central dome. Most everything happened there, on forty levels that housed residential, schooling, repose, and dining areas, all organized around an atrium. Aria had never seen a single crack in the Panop, not that she’d bothered to search very hard.

The design was purposely repetitive and uninteresting to promote maximum use of the Realms. Everything in the real was kept bland, down to the grays they all wore. Now, as she followed Dr. Ward, she couldn’t help wondering how many other parts of the Pod were deteriorating.

Ward stopped before an unmarked door. “I’ll see you afterward.” It sounded like a question.

Aria didn’t see the five Reverie Consuls when she stepped into the room. That’s how they always appeared in public address, the five speaking from a virtual, ancient Senate house. Only one man was seated at a table.

Soren’s father. Consul Hess.

“Take a seat, Aria,” Consul Hess said, indicating the metal chair across the table.

She sat and looked down, letting her hair fall in front of her bare eye. The room was a steel box, the walls pocked with dents. It smelled strongly of bleach.

“One moment,” Consul Hess said as he stared through her.

Aria crossed her arms to hide her trembling hands. He was probably sifting through reports of the fire on his Smartscreen, or maybe talking with an expert on how to proceed.

Soren’s father was a 12th Gen, well into his second century of life. She supposed he and Soren resembled each other, both being even-featured and stocky. But their likeness wasn’t obvious. Aging-reversal treatments kept Consul Hess’s skin as thin and tender-looking as an infant’s, while Soren’s tan made him look older. But like everyone over a hundred years old, Consul Hess’s age showed in his eyes, which were sunken and dull as olive pits.

Aria’s gaze moved to the chair next to her. It shouldn’t be empty. Her mother should be there instead of hundreds of miles away. Aria had always tried to understand Lumina’s dedication to her work. It wasn’t easy, knowing as little about it as she did. “It’s classified,” Lumina said whenever Aria asked. “You know as much as I can tell. It’s in the field of genetics. Important work, but not as important as you.”

How could Aria believe her now? Where was she when Aria needed her?

Consul Hess’s attention closed on her like a focusing lens. He hadn’t spoken yet, but she knew he was studying her. He clicked his fingernails on the steel table. “Let’s begin,” he said finally.

“Shouldn’t all the Consuls be here?”

“Consuls Royce, Medlen, and Tarquin are attending to protocol. They’ll see our conversation later. Consul Young is with us.”

Aria looked at his Smarteye, growing conscious of the missing weight on the left side of her face again. “He’s not with me.”

“Yes, true. You’ve been through an ordeal, haven’t you? I’m afraid my son bears some responsibility for what happened. Soren’s a natural code breaker. A difficult trait at this age, but one day he’ll be quite useful.”

Aria waited until she knew her voice would be steady. “You spoke with him?”

“In the Realms only,” Consul Hess said. “He won’t be capable of speaking aloud for some time. New bones are being grown for his jaw. Much of the skin over his face will have to be regenerated. He will never look the same, but he survived. He was lucky . . . but not as lucky as you.”

Aria looked down at the table. There was a long, deep scratch in the metal. She didn’t want to picture Soren with disfiguring scars. She didn’t want to picture him at all.

“Reverie hasn’t suffered a security breach in over a century. It’s both absurd and impressive that a group of Second Gens could do what Aether storms and Savages have not accomplished in so long.” He paused. “You realize how close you came to destroying the entire Pod?”

She nodded without meeting his eyes. She’d known how dangerous it was to start a fire, but she’d sat and watched it happen. She should have done something sooner. Maybe she could’ve saved Paisley’s life if she hadn’t been so scared of Soren.

Aria’s eyes blurred.

Paisley was dead.

How was it possible?

“With the nonfunctioning cameras in Ag 6 and your Smarteyes deactivated, we find ourselves in a bit of a primitive situation. We have only your accounts available to tell us what transpired that night.” He leaned forward, his chair scraping softly on the floor. “I need you to tell me exactly what happened in that dome.”

She glanced up, searching his cold stare for a clue. Had they found her Smarteye? Did Hess know about the recording? “What did Soren tell you?” she asked.

Consul Hess’s lips thinned into a smile. “That’s confidential, just as your testimony will be. Nothing will be divulged until the investigation is completed. Whenever you’re ready.”

She traced the scratch on the table with a gloved finger. How could she tell Consul Hess what a monster his son had become? She needed that Smarteye. Without it, they’d believe whatever story Soren gave them. Soren had said it himself in the agriculture dome.

“The sooner we settle this, the sooner you can go,” Hess said. “You need time to grieve, as we all do. We’ve cancelled school and unessential work for the remainder of the week to allow for the healing to begin. I’m told your friend Caleb is organizing a tribute for Paisley.” He paused. “And I can imagine how you’re anxious to see your mother.”

She tensed, looking up. “My mother? Ward said the link was still down.”

Hess waved his hand dismissively. “Ward isn’t on my staff. Lumina is quite worried about you. I’ve arranged for you to see her as soon as we’re through.”

Tears of relief wobbled on her lower eyelids. She was sure now. Lumina was all right. She’d probably tried to reach Aria while she was in Ag 6 and left the message when Aria hadn’t been available. “When did you speak with her? Why was the link down for so long?”

“I’m not the one being questioned here, Aria. Your account. From the beginning.”

She told him about shutting down their Smarteyes, slowly at first, but gaining confidence as she described the game of Rotball and the fire. Every word brought her nearer to seeing Lumina. When she got to the part where the boys chased her and Paisley, she faltered, her voice cracking. “When he—when Soren—tore off my Smarteye, I guess I went unconscious. I don’t remember anything after that.”

Consul Hess propped his arms on the table. “Why would Soren do that?”

“I don’t know. Ask him.”

Hess’s dull gaze bored into her. Were the other Consuls feeding questions through him? “He said going there was your idea. That you were after information about your mother.”

“It was his idea!” Aria cringed as the ache in her head flared. Sedatives. Pain. Grief. She didn’t know what hurt most. “Soren wanted to go on a real adventure. He came ready to make fire. I just went because I thought he’d be able to tell me about Bliss.”

“How did you come to be found in the exterior airlock?”

“I was? I don’t know. I told you. I blacked out.”

“Was someone else in there with you?”

“Someone else?” she said. Who else could have been in an off-limits dome? Aria tensed as a blurred image appeared in her mind. Had that truly happened? “There was . . . there was an Outsider.”

“An Outsider,” Consul Hess said evenly. “How do you think an Outsider came to be in Ag 6 on the same night you went there, at the same time Soren disabled the system?”

“Are you accusing me of letting a Savage into Reverie?”

“I’m simply asking questions. Why were you the only one brought to the safety of an airlock? Why weren’t you attacked?”

“Your son attacked me!”

“Calm down, Aria. These questions are standard procedure, not intended to upset you. We need to gather facts.”

She stared at Consul Hess’s Smarteye, imagining she spoke directly to Consul Young. “If you want to gather facts,” she said firmly, “then find my Smarteye. You’ll see what happened.”

Consul Hess’s eyes widened with surprise, but he recovered quickly. “So you did make a recording. Not an easy feat with a deactivated Eye. Smart girl. Just like your mother.” Hess tapped his fingers on the table a few times. “Your Eye is being searched for now. We’ll find it. What did you capture in the recording?”

“Just what I told you. Your son going crazy.”

He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “This puts me in a difficult position, doesn’t it? But be assured that justice will be done. It’s my responsibility to keep the Pod safe, above all else. Thank you, Aria. You’ve been very helpful. Can you manage a few hours of transport? Your mother is eager to see you.”

“You mean actually go to Bliss?”

“That’s right. I have a transport waiting. Lumina insisted on seeing you in the flesh to be certain you’re receiving the proper care. She’s quite persuasive, isn’t she?”

Aria nodded, a smile stirring inside her. She could just imagine their showdown. Lumina had a scientist’s patience. She never stopped until she had the result she wanted. “I’m fine. I can go.” She wasn’t anywhere close to fine, but she’d pretend to be if it got her to Lumina.

“Good.” Consul Hess stood. Two men dressed in blue Reverie Guardian suits entered the room, crowding it with their imposing size, while two more stayed outside. They stared at her face, where her Smarteye should have been. Aria decided there was no use covering her naked eye anymore. She rose from the table, fighting off a riot of aches in her joints and muscles.

“Take good care of her,” Consul Hess said to the Guardians. “Get well, Aria.”

“Thank you, Consul Hess.”

He smiled. “No need to thank me. It’s the least I could do after all you’ve been through.”

Chapter 6

PEREGRINE

Perry pulled his satchel and bow over his shoulder and stepped outside with Talon late the next morning. Fishermen and farmers milled around the clearing. Too many people, mingling like the workday was done. Perry dropped a hand on Talon’s shoulder, stopping him.

“Are we getting raided?” Talon asked.

“No,” Perry answered. The scents rolling past didn’t carry enough panic for a raid. “Must be the Aether.” The blue swirls looked brighter than they had overnight. Perry caught glimpses of them stirring above thick rain clouds. “Your father’s probably called everyone in.”

“But it doesn’t look so bad.”

“Not yet,” Perry said. Like all the stronger Scires, he could anticipate Aether storms. The prickling sensation in the back of his nose told him the sky would still need to take a turn for the worse before it became a threat. But Vale never took chances with the Tides’ safety.

At the mercy of his growling stomach, Perry steered Talon toward the cookhouse. He noticed his nephew favoring his right leg. It wasn’t a terrible limp. Hardly even obvious. But when a pack of boys came yelling and drumming up dust, Talon stopped walking. The boys shot by. Wiry mutts, lean from work and meager meals, not illness. A few months ago, Talon had been at the head of that pack.

Perry swept his nephew up over his shoulder, hanging Talon upside down and making a show of having fun. Talon laughed but Perry knew he was putting on a show too. He knew Talon ached to run with his friends. To have his legs again.

The smell of onion and woodsmoke hung in the cool dimness of the cookhouse. This was the largest structure in the compound. Where they ate. Where Vale held gatherings in the winter months. A dozen large trestle tables took up one side, with Vale’s head table on an elevated stone platform to the rear. To the other, behind a half wall of brick, there was a cooking hearth, a row of iron stoves, and several worktables that hadn’t held food with any plenty in years.

The day’s haul ended up there, from the fields and the sea. Whatever else Perry and the other hunters managed to bring in. Everything went there to be shared among the families. The Tides were fortunate to have an underground river running through their valley. Made irrigating easy. But having all the water in the world didn’t help when the Aether storms came, scorching stretches of land. This year, their scarred fields hadn’t yielded nearly enough to fill their stores for the winter. The tribe would be eating because of Perry’s sister, Liv.

Four cows. Eight goats. Two dozen chickens. Ten sacks of grain. Five bags of dried herbs. They were just some of the things Liv’s marriage to a northern Blood Lord had bought the Tides. “I’m expensive,” Liv had joked the day she left, but neither Perry nor his best friend, Roar, had laughed. Half of the payment for her had already arrived. They expected the other half any day, after Liv reached her intended husband. They needed it soon, before winter came in force.

Right away Perry spotted a cluster of Audiles at a table in the back, bent close as they whispered. Perry shook his head. The Ears were always whispering. A moment later, he caught a vibrant green wave, bracing as cypress leaves. Their excitement. Probably someone had overheard his tussle with Vale.

Perry set Talon on the brick bar, ruffling his hair. “Brought you a weasel today, Brooke. Best I could do. You know how it’s been out there.”

Brooke looked up from the onion she chopped and smiled. She wore one of his arrowheads on a leather cord as a necklace, drawing his eyes down. She looked good today. Brooke always looked good. Her sharp blue eyes narrowed on Perry’s cheek for an instant, then she winked at Talon.

“He’s a cute little thing. Bet he tastes good.” She tipped her head toward the large pot hanging over the fire. “Toss him in there.”

“Brooke, I’m not a weasel!” Talon giggled as Perry scooped him up.

“Hang on, Perry,” Brooke said. She dished out bowls of gruel for them. “We might as well get him good and fat before we cook him.”

He and Talon took a table by the door as always, where Perry could best catch drafts from outside. They might give him a few moments of warning if Vale showed up. Perry noticed that Wylan and Bear, Vale’s best men, sat with the Auds. That meant Vale was probably hunting alone.

Perry wolfed down the barley porridge so the flavors wouldn’t linger in his mouth. Being a Scire also meant having a great sense of taste. Wasn’t always a good thing. The bland mash soaked up traces of other meals from the wooden bowl, leaving the rancy aftertaste of salt fish, goat’s milk, and turnips on his tongue. He went back for another helping because he knew Brooke would give it to him, and food was food. When he finished, he sat back and crossed his arms, feeling only mildly hungry and more than a little guilty for filling himself at the price of his sister’s happiness.

Talon had stirred his food for a while, making lumpy mounds with his spoon. Now he looked everywhere but at his bowl. It pained Perry to see his nephew looking so drawn.

“We’re hunting, right?” Perry asked. Hunting would give him an excuse to get Talon away from the compound. Perry wanted to give him the apple, Talon’s favorite. Vale always bought a few in secret just for Talon when traders brought them around.

Talon stopped stirring. “But the Aether.”

“I’ll keep us clear of it. Come on, Tal. We could go for a bit.”

Talon scrunched his nose, leaned forward, and whispered, “I can’t leave the compound anymore. My father said.”

Perry frowned. “When did he say that?”

“Umm . . . the day after you left?”

Perry pushed down a flare of anger, wanting to keep his nephew from feeling it too. How could Vale deny him hunting? Talon loved it. “We could be back before he knew.”

“Uncle Perry . . .”

Perry glanced over his shoulder, following Talon’s line of vision to the table in the back. “What, you think the Ears heard me?” he asked, though he knew they had. Perry whispered a few suggestions to the Auds. Ideas for what they could go do to themselves, rather than listen to other people’s conversations. His suggestions brought several hard stares.

“Look at that, Talon. You’re right. They can hear me. Should’ve known. I can smell Wylan from here. You think that reek’s coming from his mouth?”

Talon grinned. He’d lost a few milk teeth. His smile had the look of calico corn. “It smells like it’s coming from his south side.”

Perry leaned back and laughed.

“Shut up, Peregrine,” Wylan called out. “You heard him. He’s not supposed to leave. You want Vale to know what you’re doing?”

“Your choice, Wylan. Tell Vale or not. You want to deal with him or me?”

Perry knew the answer. Vale’s form of punishment meant halved rations. Outhouse duty. Extra rounds of night watch in the winter. Miserable, all, but to a vain critter like Wylan, better than the beating Perry could give him. So when the whole lot of Auds stood and charged him, Perry nearly knocked the bench over getting up. He put himself in the alley between the tables, Talon well behind him.

Wylan, at the lead, stopped a few paces away. “Peregrine, you streaky idiot. Something’s going on outside.”

It took Perry a moment to understand. They’d heard something outside and were simply heading out. He stepped aside as the Auds poured past him, the rest of the cookhouse hurrying after.

Perry went back to Talon. His nephew’s bowl had spilled. Gruel dripped through a knot in the table. “I thought . . .” He glared at the worn planks. “You know what I thought.”

Talon knew better than anyone how Perry’s blood was primed. He’d always had an edge, but it was getting worse. Lately, if there was a scuffle to be had, Perry found a way to mix himself into it. The Aether in his blood was gathering, growing stronger every year with the storms. He felt like his body had a will of its own. Always looking. Preparing for the only fight that would satisfy him.

But he couldn’t have that fight. In a challenge for Blood Lord, the loser died or was forced to disperse. Perry couldn’t imagine leaving Talon fatherless. And he couldn’t force his brother and his sick nephew out in the open. There were no laws in the borderlands beyond tribe territories, only survival.

That left one choice. He needed to leave. Dispersing was the best thing he could do for Talon. It meant that Talon could stay and live out the rest of his days in the safety of the compound. It also meant he’d never help the Tides like he knew he could.

Outside, people crowded around the clearing. The afternoon air thickened with excited tempers. Brisk scents. But no traces of fear. Dozens of voices chattered, muddled to his ears, but the Auds had surely overheard something to make them dart outside. Perry caught sight of Bear creating a wake as he moved through the crowd. Wylan and a few others followed him out beyond the compound.

“Perry! Up here!”

Brooke stood on the tile roof of the cookhouse, waving him up. Perry wasn’t surprised to see her already there. He climbed the farming crates stacked to the side of the structure, pulling Talon up with him.

From the roof, he had a good view of the hills that formed the Tides’ eastern border. Farmland stretched back in a patchwork of browns and greens, woven through by a line of trees that followed the underground river. Perry could also see the stretches of Aether-blackened earth where the funnels had struck early in the spring.

“There,” Brooke said.

He searched where she pointed. He was a Seer like Brooke, saw better than most during the day, but his real strength lay in seeing in the dark. He knew of no other Seer like him and tried not to call attention to his vision.

Perry shook his head, unable to make out anything distinctive in the distance. “You know I’m better at night.”

Brooke shot him a flirty smile. “I sure do.”

He grinned at her. Couldn’t think of anything to say besides, “Later.”

She laughed and turned her keen blue eyes back to the distance. She was a strong Seer, the best in the tribe since her younger sister Clara had disappeared. More than a year had passed since Clara had gone missing, but Brooke hadn’t given up on her coming home. Perry scented her hope now. Then how it wilted with disappointment.

“It’s Vale,” she said. “He’s bringing in something big. It looks like a buck.”

Perry should have been relieved it was only his brother coming home from hunting. Not another tribe raiding them for food. But he wasn’t.

Brooke stepped toward him, her gaze settling on his bruised cheek. “That looks like it hurts, Per.” She traced a finger along his face in a way that didn’t hurt at all. When her floral scent reached him, he couldn’t stop himself from bringing her closer.

Most girls in the tribe were wary around him. He understood, considering his shaky future with the Tides. Not Brooke. More than once as they’d lain together in the warm summer grass, she’d whispered into his ear about them becoming the ruling pair. He liked Brooke, but that would never happen. He’d choose another Scire to be with someday, keeping with his strongest Sense. But Brooke never gave up. Not that he minded.

“So it’s true what happened with you and Vale?” she said.

Perry let out a slow breath. There were no secrets with Auds around. “Vale didn’t do this.”

Brooke smiled like she didn’t believe him. “Everyone’s down there, Perry. It’s the perfect time to challenge him.”

He stepped back and swallowed a curse. She wasn’t a Scire. She could never understand how it felt to be rendered. No matter how much he wanted to be Blood Lord, he could never hurt Talon.

“I see him!” Talon said from the edge of the roof.

Perry darted to his side. Vale was crossing the dirt field that skirted the compound, near enough for all to see. He was tall, like Perry, but seven years older; he had a man’s build. The Blood Lord chain around his neck shone under the light of the sky. Scire Markings coiled around Vale’s biceps. One band on each arm, single and proud, unlike the two cluttering Perry’s. Vale’s Naming Mark cut a line on the skin over his heart, rising and falling like the lines of their valley. He had his dark hair pulled back, giving Perry a clear view of his eyes. They were steady and calm as ever. Behind Vale, on a litter made of branches and rope, rested his quarry.

The buck looked to be well over two hundred pounds. The head was doubled back to keep the enormous rack from dragging. A ten pointer. A huge animal.

Below, the drum began to pound a deep rhythm. The other instruments joined in, playing the Hunter’s Song. A song that got Perry’s heart pounding every time he heard it.

People ran toward Vale. They took the litter from his hands. They brought him water and praised him. A buck that size would fill all their stomachs. A beast like that was a rare sign of bounty. A good omen for the winter ahead. For the following growing season as well. That was why Vale had called the tribe back to the compound. He wanted everyone there to see him coming home with his prize.

Perry looked down at his shaking hands. That buck should have been his kill. He should be the one hauling in that litter. He couldn’t believe Vale’s luck. How had he brought in a buck like that when Perry hadn’t tracked one all year? Perry knew he was a better hunter. He gritted his teeth, pushing back his next thought, but failing. He’d be a better Blood Lord, too.

“Uncle Perry?” Talon stared up at him, his scrawny chest heaving for breath. Perry saw all the jealous rage inside of him crossing his nephew’s drawn face. Tangling up with Talon’s fear. He breathed in the desperate mix they made and knew he should never have come back.

Chapter 7
ARIA

Aria followed the Guardians through the curving corridors. She wanted out of the real, where things rusted and cracked. Where people died in fires. She wished she had her new Smarteye so she could fraction and escape to a Realm. She could be gone right now, somewhere else.

She began to notice more Guardians in the halls and in passing glimpses of chambers that looked like cafeterias and meeting rooms. She knew most of them by face, but they were strangers. They weren’t people she meshed with in the Realms.

The Guardians brought her through an airlock chamber labeled DEFENSE & EXTERNAL REPAIRS 2. She stopped in her tracks as she entered a transportation hub larger than any space she’d ever seen. Hovercrafts were lined in rows, rounded iridescent vehicles she’d only seen in the Realms before. The sleek ships looked hunched, like insects poised to take flight. Aerial runways marked by blue beams of light floated in the air above. Laughter erupted from a cluster of Guardians in the distance, the sound small and stifled by the drone of generators. She’d been within walking distance of this hangar her entire life. All of this went on in Reverie, and she’d never known it.

One of the Hovers in the distance lit up with a shimmering glow. It hit her then. She was actually leaving. She never thought she’d leave Reverie. This Pod was her home. But it didn’t feel the same. She’d seen its rotten fruit and rusted walls. She’d seen machines that turned her mind blank and her limbs into anchors. Soren was here. And Paisley wasn’t. How could she go back to her life without Paisley? She couldn’t. She needed to leave. More than anything, she needed her mother. Lumina would know how to make things right again.

Eyes blurring, she followed the Guardians to a Dragonwing. She recognized the vehicle. It was the fastest model of Hovers, built for raw speed. Aria climbed the metal steps, hesitating at the top. When would she come back?

“Keep moving,” said a Guardian with black gloves. The cabin was surprisingly small, lit with dim blue light, with seats along both sides.

“Right here,” said the man. She sat where he indicated and fumbled with the thick restraints, her fingers useless through the Medsuit. She should’ve asked for grays, but she hadn’t wanted to waste time and risk Hess changing his mind.

The man took the straps from her and fastened them with a series of snaps. Then he sat on the opposite side with five other men. They ran through coordinates using military jargon she hardly understood, falling silent as the door sealed with a sound like a gasp. The craft whirred to life, vibrating, buzzing like a million bees. Near the cockpit, something inside a cabinet shook, creating a metallic chatter. The noise set off her headache again. A cloying chemical taste slid into her mouth.

“How long is the journey?” she asked.

“Not long,” said the man who’d buckled her in. He closed his eyes. Most of the other Guardians did too. Did they always do that? Or were they just trying to avoid staring at the blank spot over her left eye?

The lurch of liftoff pressed her down into the seat, then sideways, as the craft thrust into motion. With no windows to peer through, Aria strained to listen. Had they left the hangar? Were they on the outside yet?

She swallowed the bitter taste on her tongue. She needed water and the seat straps were too tight. She couldn’t draw in a full breath without pushing against them. She began to feel light-headed, like she couldn’t get enough air. Aria ran through vocal scales in her mind, battling against the shrill note of her headache. Scales always calmed her.

The Dragonwing slowed much sooner than she’d expected. Half an hour? Aria knew she wasn’t tracking time properly, but it couldn’t have been long.

The Guardians pressed at wrist pads on their gray suits and donned their helmets, moving in quick, practiced movements. Soft light glowed from within their visors, shining clear through their Smarteyes. Aria looked around the cabin. Why hadn’t she been given a helmet?

The black-gloved man stood and unfastened her seat restraint. She finally drew a deep breath, but didn’t feel satisfied. A strange weightlessness had come over her.

“Are we there?” she asked. She hadn’t felt them land. The Hover still hummed with noise.

The Guardian’s voice projected through a speaker in his helmet. “You are.”

The door opened with a blast of light. Hot air gusted into the cabin. Aria blinked furiously, willing her eyes to adjust. She didn’t see a hangar. She didn’t see anything that looked like Bliss. Empty land ran clear to the horizon. Desert, reaching as far as she could see. Nothing more. She didn’t understand. Couldn’t accept what she saw.

A hand clamped onto her wrist. She screamed and reeled back. “Let go of me!” She grabbed the seat restraints, clutching them with all her strength.

Hard hands fell on her shoulders, crushing her muscles, tearing her from the straps. They pulled her toward the edge in an instant. She looked down at her cloth-covered feet. They were inches from the metal lip. Much farther below, she saw cracked red earth.

“Please! I didn’t do anything!”

A Guardian came up behind her. She caught a glimpse of him as his foot crashed into the small of her back, and then she was falling through the air.

She pressed her lips together as she struck the earth. Pain speared through her knees and elbows. Her temple smacked against the ground. She stifled a cry because making any sound—because even breathing—meant death. Aria lifted her head and stared at her fingers splayed on rust-colored dirt.

She was touching the outside. She was in the Death Shop.

She turned as the hatch closed, catching her last glance of the Guardians. Another Dragonwing floated beside it, both glistening like blue pearls. A buzzing sound shook the air around her as they glided away, kicking up clouds of red dirt as they sped across the flat expanse.

Aria’s lungs tightened in spasms, aching for oxygen. She covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve. She couldn’t fight the need to draw air any longer. She inhaled and exhaled at the same time, choking, her eyes watering as she fought to settle back into her breath. She watched the Hovercrafts blend into the distance and marked the spot where they disappeared. When she could no longer see them, she sat staring at the desert. It looked bleak and barren in every direction. The quiet was so complete she could hear herself swallow.

Consul Hess had lied to her.

He’d lied. She’d been prepared for some kind of punishment when the investigation was done, but not this. She realized Consul Young hadn’t been watching her interview through Hess’s Smarteye. She’d been alone with Hess. His report would probably say she’d died in Ag 6, along with Paisley, Echo, and Bane. Hess would blame her for thinking up the night and letting in a Savage, too. He’d probably tied up all his problems and tossed them out with her.

She stood, her legs trembling as she fought waves of dizziness. The heat of the earth soaked through the fabric of her Medsuit, warming the soles of her feet. As though on cue, her suit blew a rush of cool air over her back and stomach. She almost laughed. The Medsuit was still regulating her temperature.

She looked up. Thick gray clouds blotted the sky. In the gaps, she saw Aether. Real Aether. The flows ran above the clouds. They were beautiful, like lightning trapped in liquid currents, thin as veils in some places. In others, they gathered in thick bright streams. The Aether didn’t look like something that could put an end to the world, yet that had nearly happened during the Unity.

For six decades, when the Aether came, it had scorched the earth with constant fires, but the real blow to humanity had been its mutative effect, as her mother had explained to her. New diseases had evolved rapidly and thrived. Plagues had wiped out entire populations. Her ancestors had been among the fortunate few who’d taken shelter in the Pods.

Shelter she no longer had.

Aria knew she couldn’t survive in this contaminated world. She hadn’t been designed for it. Death was only a matter of time.

She found the brighter patch in the cloud cover, where light shone through in a golden haze. That light came from the sun. She might get to see the real sun. She had to fight off the urge to cry, thinking about seeing the sun. Because who would know? Who would she tell about seeing something so incredible?

She headed toward where the Rovers had disappeared, knowing it was pointless. Did she think Consul Hess would change his mind? But where else could she go? She walked with feet she didn’t recognize on earth that looked like giraffe print.

She hadn’t taken more than a dozen steps when she started to cough again. Soon she grew too light-headed to stand. But it wasn’t just her lungs rejecting the outside. Her eyes and nose streamed. Her throat burned and her mouth filled with hot saliva.

She’d heard all the stories about the Death Shop, like everyone else. A million ways to die. She knew of the packs of wolves as smart as men. She’d heard of the flocks of crows that picked living people to pieces, and Aether storms that behaved like predators. But the worst death in the Death Shop, she decided, was rotting alone.

Chapter 8

PEREGRINE

Perry watched as his older brother strode into the clearing. Vale paused and lifted his head, scenting the wind. He held the buck’s rack in his hand, a huge snarl of horns, thick as a small tree. Impressive. Perry couldn’t deny it. Vale searched the crowd and spotted Perry, then Talon at his side.

Perry became aware of a dozen things as his brother came forward. The Dweller device and the apple, both wrapped in plastic, deep inside his satchel. His knife at his hip. His bow and quiver slung across his back. He noticed the way the crowd quieted, easing into a circle around him. He sensed Talon shift at his side, drawing back. And he scented tempers. Dozens of bright scents, charging the air as much as the Aether above.

“Hello, Son.” Vale ached, gazing at his boy. Perry saw it in his eyes. He also saw the swelling around Vale’s nose, but wondered if anyone else would notice.

Talon raised a hand in reply, keeping back. He didn’t want to show weakness in front of his father. How he hurt, both from grief and illness. Once it had been Perry hiding from his father behind Vale’s legs. But hiding didn’t work around Scires. Scents carried.

Vale raised the rack. “For you, Talon. Choose a horn. We’ll make a handle for a new knife. Would you like that?”

Talon shrugged. “All right.”

Perry glanced at the knife at Talon’s belt. It was Perry’s old blade. As a boy, he had carved feathers into the handle, making a design fit for him and later, Talon. He saw no reason for him to have a new one.

Vale finally met his gaze. He looked at the bruise on Perry’s face, suspicion flashing in his eyes. Vale would know he hadn’t given it to Perry. He hadn’t landed any solid punches that night across the table.

“What happened to you, Peregrine?”

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.”

“You’re wrong,” Perry said. Didn’t anyone else see that?

Several people gasped. He could almost hear their thoughts through their excited tempers. Fight, Perry. This’ll be good to see.

Vale handed the rack to Bear. It grew so quiet that Perry heard Bear’s leather vest squeak as he moved. Perry’s vision started tunneling as it did when he hunted. He saw only his older brother, who’d defended Perry countless times as a boy, but who didn’t believe him now. Perry glanced at Talon. He couldn’t do this. What if he killed Vale right there?

Talon shot forward. “Can we hunt, Father? Can Uncle Perry and I hunt?”

Vale looked down, the darkness in his gaze vanishing. “Hunt, Talon? Now?”

“I feel good today.” Talon lifted his small chin. “Can we go?”

“Are you so eager to show me up, Son?”

“Yes!”

Vale’s deep laugh roused a few forced chuckles from the crowd.

“Please, Father. Just for a while?”

Vale raised his eyebrows at Perry, like he thought it fitting that Talon had stepped in to rescue him. That look nearly launched Perry forward.

Vale knelt and opened his arms. Talon hugged him, his skinny arms closing around Vale’s broad neck. Covering the Blood Lord chain. Stealing it from Perry’s sight.

“We’ll feast tonight,” Vale said, easing back. He cradled Talon’s face with his hands. “I’ll save the best cuts for you.” He straightened and motioned Wylan over. “Make sure they stay close to the compound.”

“We don’t need him,” Perry said. Did Vale think he couldn’t protect Talon? And he didn’t want Wylan along. If the Aud came, he couldn’t give Talon the apple. “I’ll keep him safe.”

Vale’s green eyes settled on Perry’s swollen cheek. “Little brother, if you saw yourself, you’d know why I don’t believe that.”

More laughter, unchecked this time. Perry shifted on his feet. The Tides saw him as a joke.

Talon pulled his arm. “Let’s go, Uncle Perry. Before it gets late.”

Perry’s muscles filled with the need to move, but he couldn’t give his brother his back. Talon let go of him and ran ahead in pitiful lurching strides.

“Come on, Uncle Perry. Let’s go!”

For Talon, Perry followed.

Chapter 9

ARIA

When the coughing fit passed, Aria lay on her side. Her ribs hurt. Her throat was swollen and sore. But she’d survived. Her skin hadn’t melted off and she hadn’t gone into shock. Maybe the stories were wrong. Or maybe that would come.

She hauled herself to her feet and began to walk again. She’d accepted that she wouldn’t get anywhere. What mattered was pretending she might. That by taking one step after another, she had a chance of finding shelter. She convinced herself of this so completely that when she saw rough shapes in the distance, she thought she was imagining them.

Aria walked faster, heart pounding as the forms became more distinct and the ground grew uneven with debris. Broken pieces poked through the soles of her Medsuit, hurting her feet. She stopped, scanning a sea of cement. Pieces of iron stuck out of the rubble, sculptural, bent and rusted. A great city once, she thought. Defiant, here in the middle of nowhere. Now it wouldn’t even provide shelter for her. She pointed herself in another direction and set off again.

She avoided her thoughts as long as possible, but they came, stampeding beyond her control. Ward had seen her alive. Had Hess pressured him to keep quiet? Was her mother grieving now? What had Lumina said in the “Songbird” message?

Aria sat down to rest. She remembered the last time she’d been with her mother in Reverie. A Singing Sunday.

At eleven o’clock every Sunday of her life, Aria had met her mother in the Paris Opera Realm, a replica of the lavish Palais Garnier. Lumina was always there first, waiting with her hands folded neatly in her lap, her back straight in her favorite front row seat. She came dressed the same way every time, in an elegant black dress, a thin strand of pearls around her slender neck, her dark hair pulled back in a tight, perfect bun.

For an hour, on a stage built for four hundred performers, Aria sang to her. She became Juliet or Isolde or Joan of Arc, singing about doomed love and grand purpose and resilience in the face of death. Aria let their stories soar on her dark falcon soprano voice, across gilded columns and crimson curtains, up to a fresco of angels. She performed every week for Lumina because her mother was there for that hour, and that was more time than Aria got from her all week.

She did it, though she hated opera. She hated everything about it. The overblown sense of drama. The violence and lewdness. No one had ever died of heartbreak in Reverie. Betrayal never led to murder. Those things didn’t happen anymore. They had the Realms now. They could experience anything without taking risks. Now, life was Better than Real.

Her last Singing Sunday with Lumina had been different from the start. Lumina’s cool hand on Aria’s bare shoulder had jarred her awake.

“What is it?” Aria had asked. Her Smartscreen read 5 A.M. “What’s wrong?”

Lumina was perched at the edge of the bed. She wore a gray traveling jumpsuit with reflective stripes along the arms, not her usual doctor’s smock. Somehow she still looked elegant. “The transport team wants to avoid some weather. I need to leave earlier than planned.”

Aria swallowed the tight feeling in her throat. She didn’t want to say good-bye. They’d planned to meet every day in the Realms, but Lumina would be far. They wouldn’t be in the same Pod anymore.

“Will you sing to me now?”

“Mom, now?”

“I look forward to this all week,” Lumina said. “Don’t make me wait until next Sunday.”

Aria flopped facedown on her pillow. Opera first thing in the morning? It seemed criminal. “Why do you have to leave? Why can’t you just do your research in the Realms?”

“I need to be in Bliss for this assignment.”

“Why can’t I go with you?” Aria asked.

“You know I can’t tell you why.”

Aria pressed her face deeper into the pillow. How could her mother sound so calm? She made it seem so easy to keep things from Aria.

“Please,” Lumina said. “I don’t have much time.”

“Fine.” Aria rolled over and glared at the ceiling. “Let’s just get it over with.” She found the Opera Realm on her Smartscreen. The icon should’ve showed the columned front facade of the opera house, but Aria had changed it to an image of her pretending to choke herself. She chose it and fractioned, her mind easily opening to another world. She was in two places now. There, in her cramped little room, and in the extravagant, cavernous opera hall.

Aria had chosen to appear behind the main curtain. She glared at the heavy swath of red velvet. Lumina could wait a few more seconds. That would irritate her. When she stepped through, she didn’t see Lumina in her usual front row seat. The opera house was empty.

In Aria’s bedroom, Lumina leaned forward, resting her hand on Aria’s arm. “Songbird. Will you sing to me here?”

Aria yanked herself out of the Realm and sat up, stunned. “Here? In my room?”

“I won’t be able to hear your real voice once I’m in Bliss.”

Aria pushed her hair behind her ears, panic coiling in her gut. She looked around the tiny room, at the neat drawers built into the walls and the mirror above her sink. She knew her voice. She knew its power. Her voice would shake the walls in such a confined space. It might carry beyond the small living room outside and make it out to the Panop.

What if everyone heard her?

Her heart began to race. This had never happened before. It was too strange. Too big a change from their routine. “You know it’s the same as in the Realms, Mom.”

Lumina’s gray eyes bored into her, urgent and pleading. “I want to hear the gift you have.”

“It’s not a gift!” Aria cried. It was genetics. Lumina loved opera, so she’d crafted Aria’s DNA with enhanced vocal traits to create a daughter who could sing to her. If it was a gift Aria had, then it was a gift Lumina had given to herself. Her own personal songbird, Lumina’s pet name for her. Aria had never seen any sense in her upgrade. No one sang outside of the Realms—at least Soren’s tan made him look good in the real—but that’s what she got for being a geneticist’s daughter.

“Please do this for me,” Lumina said.

She wanted to ask why again. Why, when Lumina only seemed to care about work or opera. Why should she do anything for her mother, who was leaving her? Instead she rolled her eyes and threw back the covers.

Lumina held out grays for her, but Aria shook her head. If this was going to be different, then it would be really different. She waved a hand over her scant underclothes. “I’ll sing like this.”

Lumina pursed her lips, unamused. “Will you perform my aria?”

“No, no, Mom. I’ve got something better,” Aria said, hardly able to contain the smirk on her face. Lumina folded her hands together, suspicion lurking in her gaze. Aria drew in a few breaths, and then she sang.

Your heart is like cannibal candy

Cannibal candy, cannibal candy

Your heart is like cannibal candy

And I’ve got a sweet tooth for you!

She laughed her way through the last lyrics, one of her favorite Tilted Green Bottles songs. But then she felt bad when she saw Lumina’s face. Not because her mother looked disappointed. She didn’t. But Aria knew she was hiding it, and for some reason that made it worse.

Lumina stood and gave Aria a quick embrace. Her cool hand lingered on Aria’s cheek. “That’s quite a tune, Songbird,” she said, and left.

After that Sunday, something had changed between them. Aria dropped her daily voice lessons, not caring if it upset Lumina. She gave up Singing Sundays, too. She wouldn’t give her mother that hour anymore. Lumina had still checked in with her every night from Bliss, as promised, but their visits had been strained. She’d been so stupid. Aria saw that now. She’d wasted the time by acting sullen and bored. All she’d really wanted was for Lumina to come home.

The Medsuit crinkled as she crossed her arms. The light was fading across the desert, but the Aether looked brighter. It flowed in glowing blue rivers across the sky. Aria’s breath came faster as the need to sing built inside her.

She sang the Tosca aria—the one she’d refused to sing the morning Lumina had left—but the words came out choked, in crumbling, broken sounds. Sounds that weren’t worth hearing. She stopped herself after a few verses and hugged her knees. She’d give anything to be in the opera hall with Lumina now.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” she whispered to the emptiness around her. “I didn’t know it was the last time.”

Chapter 10

PEREGRINE

Perry set their course toward the ocean and let Wylan pull ahead. He kept his pace slow, not wanting to push Talon. As they crested the last sand dune, the bay unfolded around them. The tide was clear and blue, like it had been when he’d swam last night. People said the water had always been clean before the Unity. Never coated with foam or reeking of dead fish. Plenty of things had been different then.

As soon as they reached the beach, Wylan put on his Aud cap, pulling the padded flaps down over his ears. With the wind and the surf crashing, he apparently had more noise than he wanted, just as Perry had hoped.

Perry staked his quiver in the sand and took his bow. A few seabirds wheeled in the clouded Aether sky. They made meager catchings, scrawny as they were, but good practice for Talon. Timing was important. Gauging the wind. Reading the animal.

Talon did well enough, but Perry saw how he grew tired. The draw weight of Perry’s bow was too great, and he wished he’d thought to bring Talon’s bow along. Perry took a few shots also. He didn’t miss once. His aim was never sharper than when his blood was up. After a time, Wylan grew bored of watching and walked off.

“Want to see what I’ve got for you?” Perry said, keeping his voice low.

Talon frowned. “What? Oh, yeah.”

He’d forgotten Perry had a surprise for him. That raised an ache in Perry’s throat. He had a fair idea what was pulling Talon’s temper down. Pulling him down too.

“You have to keep quiet about it, all right?” Perry dug inside his satchel for the plastic bundle. He brought out the apple, leaving the eyepiece in the plastic.

Talon stared at it for a few moments. “You saw traders?”

Perry gave a slight shake of his head. “Tell you later.” Wylan might have his cap on, but he was one of the keenest Auds Perry knew. “Better get to it, Squeak.”

Talon ate half the apple with a smile on his face, pieces poking through the gaps in his teeth. He gave the rest to Perry. Perry finished it in two bites, including the stem and seeds. Seeing his nephew’s teeth starting to chatter, Perry pulled off his shirt and dropped it over Talon’s shoulders. Then he sat, leaning back on his hands, savoring the sweet aftertaste. Deep on the horizon, clouds lit with flashes of blue. Outside of the winter months, they didn’t suffer Aether storms on land, but rogue storms were always a danger out at sea.

Talon rested his head on Perry’s arm, drawing in the sand with a stick. He was a born hunter like Perry, but he had his mother’s artistic side too. Perry closed his eyes and wondered if this was the last time he’d feel this way. Like he was exactly where he should be. Like for a few minutes everything was in balance. Then he felt the balance shift as a prickling sensation pierced the back of his nose.

Through gaps in the clouds he saw the Aether flowing fiercely, churning like white caps on rough seas. The beach held a blue glow, cast from the light above. Perry drew the cool ocean air down into his lungs, tasting the salt on his tongue. This was it. He could never go back to the compound. He couldn’t trust himself to hold back from challenging Vale any longer.

Perry looked down at his nephew. “Talon . . . ,” he began.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t have to stay here forever. Just until I’m gone.”

Perry leaped to his feet. “Talon! Don’t talk like that.”

Talon scrambled up. His tears came suddenly, rolling down his cheeks. “You can’t go!” he shouted. “You can’t leave!”

Talon’s dark hair blew into his eyes. His jaw trembled with rage. A startling red color bloomed at the edges of Perry’s vision. He had never seen this side of his nephew. This sort of fury. He had to work not to let it overtake him. “If I stay, either your father will die or I will. You know that.”

“My dad promised he wouldn’t fight you!”

Perry froze. “He promised that?”

Talon swiped tears off his face and nodded. “Now you promise. You promise and it’ll all be fine.”

Perry put his hands through his hair, striding upwind so he could think without Talon’s anger riling him up. Had Vale really made that promise? It explained why he hadn’t made a move earlier in front of Talon. Perry knew he couldn’t make the same pledge. The need to take Blood Lord came from too deep.

“Talon, I can’t. I have to go.”

“Then I hate you!” Talon yelled.

Perry let out a slow breath. He wished that were true. Leaving him would be easier.

“Peregrine!” Wylan’s voice sliced above the dull surf. He sprinted toward them on the hard-packed sand by the water, his cap in one hand, his knife in the other. “Dwellers, Perry! Dwellers!”

Perry snatched his bow and quiver and grabbed Talon’s hand. Fear poured off Wylan’s skin as he ran up, biting cold as it entered Perry’s nostrils. “Hovers,” Wylan panted. “Coming right at us.”

Perry ran up the bank and scanned the distance. A pale glint appeared on the farthest ridge, a plume of sand rising behind it. Seconds later another Hover appeared.

“What’s happening, Uncle Perry?”

Perry pushed Talon at Wylan. “Cut up the old fishing trail. Get him home. Stay on him like you’re his shadow, Wylan. Go!”

Talon dodged out of Wylan’s reach. “No! I’m staying with you!”

“Talon, do what I say!”

Wylan caught him but Talon struggled, digging his feet into the sand.

“Wylan, pick him up!” Perry yelled.

Wylan sank into the sand with Talon’s added weight, moving too slowly. Perry ran toward the Hovers. Stopped a few hundred paces away. He had never been this close to them before. Their blue surfaces shimmered like abalone shells.

Talon’s screams were terrible, shrill sounds. Perry fought the urge to turn and run for him. As the Hovers sped closer, the charge in the air stung Perry’s arms and seared deep into his nose. They were stirring the Aether. Attracting its venom. Perry had an idea for using that to his advantage and hoped it wouldn’t kill him first.

From his satchel, he took a thread of copper he used for traps and quickly wound it around the shaft of an arrow. A shock shot up his arm when his fingers brushed the steel arrowhead. Perry nocked the arrow to his bow. He only had the one wire. One shot. He aimed high, so his arrow would soar far enough to reach the craft. Perry imagined the arc he needed. He adjusted for the wind and let it loose.

Things slowed to kill-time after that, crisp and clear. The arrow sailed true. At the highest point, as the arrow began to level, a spool of Aether wove down from the sky, meeting it. Perry winced, shielding his eyes as the arrow dropped, drawing the Aether with it. His shot now carried all the violence of the sky at its tail. It came down with a hellish, gut-grinding scream.

He struck the first Hover clean. The arrow bit into the metal. Then the veins of Aether wrapped around the Hover, strangling the vehicle. Sucking it dry. Perry flinched again as the Aether rejoined in a brilliant ray and shot skyward, diving back into the bright currents above.

The mangled Hover skidded over the dunes like a skipping stone, shaking the ground beneath Perry’s feet, until it stopped with a burst of sand. A hot gust blew past, carrying the smells of molten metal, glass, and plastic. More potent was the stench of scorched flesh.

The other Hover slowed right away and settled on the sand. The door slid open, a crack in the perfect shell. Dwellers jumped to the ground. Perry counted six men, helmeted, covered in blue suits. Six against him.

Two knelt immediately. They held weapons Perry didn’t recognize. He took out the first man right away. Nocked another arrow and fired again. Perry hit the second Dweller as the man struck him, a blow that felt like a slap to the rib, just under his left arm. He put an arrow in another Dweller, but as the three men who were left came at him, he stumbled, his legs and then his arms going numb. He toppled forward, unable to break his fall, his face thudding into the sand. Perry tried to lift himself up but couldn’t move.

“I got him.” Someone grabbed his hair, pulling his head up. Sand plugged his nose. Scraped at his eyes. Perry tried to blink but his eyes only twitched.

The Dweller brought his helmeted face close. “Not so dangerous anymore, are you?” His voice sounded metallic and far. “Didn’t think we’d forget to pay you a return visit, did you, Savage?”

He let Perry’s head drop. Perry took a kick to the ribs, but he didn’t feel any pain, only the blow pushing him to the side. Something pressed between his shoulder blades.

“What’s this?”

“Some kind of hawk.”

“Looks like a turkey if you squint.”

Laughter.

“Let’s get this done.” They rolled him onto his back.

A Dweller pressed a clear sword to his throat. He wore black gloves, the material thinner than the rest of his suit. “I’ll take care of him. You get the other ones.”

“No!” Perry groaned. He could feel his fingers now, prickling like they were thawing from cold, and pain waking in his ribs.

“Where’s the Smarteye, Turkey?”

“The eyepiece? I’ll give it to you! You don’t need them.” His words came out garbled but the Dweller must have understood.

He took the clear sword away. Perry fought to bring his arms back, but his muscles were numb.

“What are you waiting for, Savage?”

“I can’t move!”

The Dweller laughed at him. “That’s your problem, Turkey.”

A wave of hatred fueled Perry to battle for control of his limbs. He pushed himself to his feet and turned up the beach, swaying, his legs quaking beneath him. Two Dwellers ran toward Talon and Wylan. One caught Talon, the other swung at Wylan with a short club, catching him on the head and sending him down.

“Uncle Perry!” Talon yelled.

“Move, Savage!” yelled the Dweller with the black gloves. “Get the Smarteye.”

Perry stumbled to where he’d left his satchel, falling to his knees twice. He’d regained some feeling, but now he felt the ache in his ribs, threatening to swallow him whole. He turned toward the Dweller with the clear sword, holding up the eyepiece. “Let him go! I have it!”

The two Dwellers had Talon trapped between them. Talon wouldn’t stop struggling.

“Stop!” Perry yelled at his nephew.

Talon wrenched an arm free and punched one of the Dwellers in the groin. The man buckled, but the other one reacted quickly, kicking Talon in the stomach. Talon tumbled onto the sand. He came up slow, bearing his knife. Perry’s old knife. The Dweller was ready and backhanded him, sending the blade and Talon flying. Eyes blurring, Perry watched his nephew’s body go still, the waves breaking against the beach behind him.

A gust carried Talon’s temper to Perry, as staggering as any blow he’d ever taken. He couldn’t fight the Moles this way, shaking with terror. With legs that couldn’t hold him upright.

“Enough! Take it!” Perry threw the eyepiece at the Dweller.

The man caught it in his gloved hand and shoved it into a pocket at his chest.

“Too late,” he said. Then he came toward Perry, the clear sword raised and ready. Down the beach, one of the Dwellers picked up Talon and carried him up the bank. Toward the Hover. Perry couldn’t believe what he was seeing. They were taking Talon.

“No!” Perry yelled. “I gave it to you! You’re dead, Moles!”

The Dweller with the black gloves kept coming. Perry had no weapon and Talon’s temper had left him trapped between panic and rage. He backed away, retreating into the sea. The Dweller followed him, stepping unsteadily in the bulky suit as the surf crashed into his knees. A wave rolled past, spraying his helmet. Moles wouldn’t know water, Perry realized. He was ready when the next wave came. Perry lunged and tackled the Dweller. They fell together. Saltwater surged into his nose, bringing him a shot of clarity. Back to himself.

He pried the clear sword out of the man’s hand as they tumbled into the shallows. The wave slid back to the ocean, leaving them locked together, grappling in a foot of water. The Dweller reached up to shove him off. Perry brought his head down and sank his teeth into the man’s gloved hand. His canines punctured the material immediately. He tasted salt and blood and felt the give of muscle. He bit until bone kept him from going further.

The Dweller’s scream came garbled through his helmet. Perry rolled to his feet. The Dweller dragged himself out of the water and curled around his hand. Perry slammed his boot down on the Dweller’s helmet. It cracked, putting out a burst of air that Perry recognized, noxious and thin. One more kick and the man sagged against the wet sand.

Perry wrenched the eyepiece out of the pocket in the Dweller’s suit. Then he lumbered up the sandbank, snatching up his bow and quiver.

“Talon!”

He didn’t see his nephew anywhere, only the Hover floating in place. The hatch sealed shut. With a blast of sand, it shot into the distance.

He ran home in a mindless haze, his arm pressed against the spearing pain in his side. He stopped at the top of a ridge. From this far, the compound looked like a circle of stones in the valley below. A sky teeming with Aether flows and dark clouds made night of the late afternoon. Perry tilted his head, searching for scents on the storm winds. No trace of Dwellers that he could tell.

He smelled the sharp tang of bile. Wylan jogged up, a hand pressed to the knot the Dwellers had given him at his hairline. Wylan had vomited twice on the way back. The reek still clung to him.

“Hate to be you right now,” Wylan said. He had a dark, feral look in his eyes. “I heard those Moles. They came after you. Vale’s going to tear you in half.”

“He’ll need me to get Talon back,” Perry said.

Wylan leaned over and spat. Then he laughed. “Peregrine, you’re the last person Vale needs.”

Perry found everyone in the clearing, speaking in cheerful tones that mixed with festive music. Torches around the perimeter added a golden glow to the gathering, setting it apart from the cool light surrounding the compound. A few couples danced. Children wove through the crowd, hiding behind women’s skirts and laughing. It was a strange scene, as if they didn’t see the Aether roiling above them. Didn’t care that the sky might rain fire at any moment.

Vale sat on one of the crates by the cookhouse, talking to Bear at his side. He held a bottle in his hand and looked relaxed. Content to watch the celebration.

“Perry!” Brooke called, then she grabbed the arm of the person next to her. Her alarm rippled through the rest of the crowd, bringing the music to a halt. Now Perry heard the frightened brays and bleats of the stabled animals.

Vale stared at Perry, the smile easing off his face. He hopped off the crate and came forward, searching the crowd behind Perry. “Where’s Talon? Where’s Talon, Perry?”

Perry swayed. He could see the bronze flecks in Vale’s green eyes. “The Dwellers took him. I couldn’t stop them.”

Vale handed his bottle off without looking away. “What are you talking about, Peregrine?”

“The Dwellers took Talon.” He couldn’t believe he’d spoken the words. That they were true. That he was there, telling Vale his son was gone.

Vale’s dark eyebrows drew together. “That can’t be. We’ve done nothing to them.”

Perry took in the stunned faces around them. He shouldn’t have told Vale here. When the fog of disbelief wore off, the news would destroy him. But Vale, as Blood Lord, as Talon’s father, shouldn’t have to endure it in front of the tribe.

“Let’s go home,” Perry said.

Vale hesitated. He looked as though he was going to follow Perry until Wylan spoke up. “Tell him here. Everyone should hear this.”

Vale stepped closer. “Start talking, Peregrine.”

Perry swallowed hard. “I . . . broke into the Dweller fortress.” It sounded ridiculous to him now. Like a prank. “A few nights ago,” he added. “After I left.”

Vale would know, without Perry saying it, that he’d gone after their fight. That he’d acted like a frustrated child and done something rash, as he always did. In the silence that followed, Perry’s breath came fast, like he’d just sprinted. He scented dozens of tempers. Anger. Astonishment. Excitement. The flashing weights and colors and temperatures so potent that he felt sick.

Vale’s face tightened with confusion. “They came for my boy because of what you did?”

Perry shook his head. “They came for me. Talon was just there.”

He couldn’t look at his brother any longer. He stared at the jumble of footprints on the ground. In the next instant, his head rocked to the side and then his shoulder slammed against the earth. He looked up at Vale, a shot of heat flooding his veins. He was at his brother’s feet. He should stay there. He deserved this. But he couldn’t.

He sprang up. Vale drew his knife. Perry brought out his own blade. People cried out and pushed away from them.

Perry couldn’t believe this was happening. Talon should be here, not him. He should be long gone. “I’ll get him back,” he said. “I’ll get Talon. I swear I will.”

Rage burned in Vale’s eyes. “You can’t get him back! Don’t you see that? If you go after him, the Dwellers could destroy all of us!”

Perry tensed. He hadn’t thought of that, but Vale was right. The Dwellers could have dozens of Hovers like the two he’d just seen. Hundreds of men, ready to fight. He felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. Then worse for not caring.

“It’s Talon,” he said. “We have to get him back.”

“There’s no getting him back, Peregrine! You did this! Father was right. You’re cursed. You destroy everything!”

Perry’s legs shuddered beneath him. He couldn’t mean it. Perry had survived his father’s tirades because of Vale. After all the thrashings, it was Vale and Liv who’d saved him by telling him he wasn’t to blame for what happened. For what he considered the greatest mistake of his life. Until now.

“I didn’t know. . . . It wasn’t supposed to happen.” There wasn’t anything he could say that would help. He just needed to find Talon.

Vale pressed the back of his hand to his mouth like he might be sick.

“I’m sorry, Vale. . . . I’m—”

Vale lunged at him suddenly. Perry dodged to the side. For the first time in months, he knew exactly what he needed to do. Perry shoved Vale as he blew past, buying a few feet of space. Then he plunged into the crowd.

People cried out in surprise. For all his flaws, he’d never been accused of being a coward. He bore the shame and ran, knocking people down as he fled.

Vale wouldn’t fight for Talon, but he would. He was Talon’s only hope now.

Chapter 11
ARIA

Aria walked toward hills in the distance until night forced her to stop. She looked around her. What now? What spot of dirt should she choose to rest against? Would she just end the day where she was?

She sat down, shifting onto her side. Propping herself onto an elbow and then laying on her back. She wanted a pillow and a blanket. Her bed. Her room. She wanted her Smarteye so she could escape into the Realms. She sat back up, hugging her legs. The Medsuit, at least, was keeping her warm.

The Aether looked brighter than it had earlier. It knotted on the horizon in glowing blue waves. She watched the sky until she was sure. The waves were rolling toward her. Aria closed her eyes and listened to the flap of the wind blowing past her ears, rising and falling. There was music somewhere in the wind. She concentrated on finding it, on slowing her racing pulse.

She heard a crunching sound. She tensed, her eyes desperately searching the darkness. The Aether churned in eerie whirlpools above her now, casting rippling blue light across the desert. She’d been in a daze, but she knew she hadn’t imagined the sound.

“What are you?” she said, straining to see in the shifting light. No answer came back. “I heard you!” she cried.

A flash of blue lit up the distance. Aether dropped from the sky, whirling and twisting downward in a funnel. It struck the earth with a tremor that rattled the ground beneath her. Frenzied light spread across the empty desert. But it wasn’t empty. A human figure charged toward her.

Aria slithered back on her hands, trying to get her feet under her. The funnel spooled back into the sky. Darkness returned just as an immense weight pushed her down. The back of her head struck the dirt and then a hand gripped her jaw.

“I should have let you die. I lost everything because of you.”

The Aether flashed again, showing a fearsome face she vaguely recognized. But she knew that wild hair, snarled and streaked through with blond, and those gleaming, animal eyes.

“Get going. And don’t try to run. Understand?”

She almost didn’t understand him. Words sounded pulled and stretched the way he spoke them. The Savage yanked her up and shoved her without waiting for an answer. She stumbled back, losing sight of him in the marbled darkness. Another funnel came down. In the flash of light, she saw that he was only a few feet away.

“Move, Mole!” he yelled, then turned away from her and swore.

A warm gust rushed past Aria’s face. The Outsider collided into her again, crashing into her back and wrapping his arms around her. Fear exploded through her as he muscled her forward. She tried to shove back, but he trapped her in a crouch.

“Don’t move,” he yelled in her ear. “Close your eyes and put—”

This funnel was much closer. The light blinded her but the sound when it struck the earth was an unbearable horrid shriek. Aria pressed her palms over her ears and screamed as the skin on her face seared with heat. Every muscle in her body seized, gripped by a force far stronger than her.

When the noise and light faded she peered up, blinking furiously as she tried to regain her senses. Wherever she looked, eruptions of light lashed down from the sky, leaving glimmering trails of fire across the earth. She had feared Aether storms all her life from the safety of Reverie. Now she was right in the middle of one.

The Outsider let her go. He turned one way and another, his movements calculating and precise. Aria stepped away from him unsteadily, her mind dazed and slow. She wasn’t sure whether her legs or the earth trembled. Her ears felt like they had burst. The horrible scream of the Aether strikes was muted now. She touched the dribbling warmth beneath her nose. The fingers of her glove shone with dark liquid. She was oddly disappointed. Blood was supposed to be bright red, wasn’t it? She suddenly realized she shouldn’t be taking inventory of her wounds. She needed to get away.

She’d only run a few steps when he caught her, grabbing the back of her suit. Aria tensed, terrified, as she felt a tug. Her Medsuit loosened and then cold air blew across her back. She was just grasping what he’d done when the whole suit fell away. Aria sprang back, covering herself and her thin undergarments. This was not happening.

The Outsider balled her torn suit and hurled it into the darkness. “You were calling the Aether. Move, Mole! Now, or we cook!”

She could hardly hear him. Her ears weren’t working right and the storm shrieked around her, muffling his voice. But she realized he was right. The Aether funnels appeared to be getting closer and gathering around them.

He grabbed her wrist. “Keep low. If it’s close, put your hands on your knees to give the charge somewhere to go. You hear me, Dweller?”

She couldn’t think beyond his grip on her wrist. A wave of warm air swept past, heavy, like fingers brushing her face. She recognized the warning. A funnel would strike close. Aria did what he said. She bent low over her knees, saw the Outsider doing the same, folding to half his size, until she had to close her eyes against the glaring light. When the brightness behind her eyelids dimmed, she straightened to a silent flashing world.

The Outsider shook his head, realizing she couldn’t hear. She no longer fought when he pointed into the darkness. If he took her away from this place, at least her skin wouldn’t burn and her ears wouldn’t break again.

She didn’t know how long they ran. The funnels never came as close as before. As they moved away from the Aether storm, the rain began, the drops cold pinpricks, so unlike pseudo-rain in the Realms. At first it cooled her skin, but soon the cold numbed her muscles, leaving her shivering.

With the threat of the Aether receding behind them, her focus turned back to the Savage. How could she escape? He was double her size and moved sure-footedly through the dark. She was beyond exhausted, struggling just to stumble alongside, but she had to try something. There weren’t any good reasons the Savage could be forcing her to come with him. She needed to find the right moment to get away.

The desert ended abruptly, giving to low hills patched with dry grass. It had grown darker away from the Aether funnels. Aria couldn’t see where she set her feet anymore. She stepped on something that stabbed deep into her foot. She stifled a cry of pain, seeing her chance of escape slipping away.

The Outsider turned, his eyes glinting in the dark. “What is it, Dweller?”

She heard him dimly but didn’t answer. Rain poured over her as she stood, balancing on one leg. She couldn’t put any weight on her foot anymore. He came toward her without any warning and hoisted her against his side. Aria raked her nails into his skin. He lost his footing, nearly bringing them both down.

“Hurt me again, I hurt you back harder,” he said through clenched teeth. She felt the rumble of his voice where their ribs pressed together.

He firmed his grip around her waist and quickened his pace up the slope, his breath a muffled hiss at her side. Warmth gathered where their skin touched, making her nauseous. She didn’t think she could bear it anymore when they crested the slope.

By the light of the Aether, she saw a darkened opening in a smooth wall of rock. She’d have laughed if she could. Of course it would be a cave. Rain poured over the mouth in a solid sheet of water. The Outsider set her down inside.

“Back under a rock. Must feel like home.” He disappeared into the cave.

Aria limped back out into the pelting rain. She stared down at the way they’d come, a hillside so broken with rock it looked like it had teeth. She saw no other way, downhill or up, that looked manageable. She climbed down anyway, using her hands and her good foot to move over rocks made slick with rain. Aria pushed herself to hurry before the Outsider returned. Her foot slipped, wedging into the space between two large slabs. Aria tugged and turned, but the crack wouldn’t let her go and she was fading, the last of her strength seeping into the cold rock against her back.

Aria tucked herself into a ball and had two thoughts. First, she was plunging to a place far deeper than sleep. And second, she hadn’t gotten far enough away.

Chapter 12

PEREGRINE

The girl had passed out by the time Perry got the fire started. She seemed to do that a lot. He freed her foot from the slabs. Then he carried her into the cave and wrapped a blanket around her. A stone fell out of her hand. He guessed she’d meant it as protection from him. A decent thought. Might have worked for half a second.

He remembered her scent from the night in the Dweller fortress. A rancy mix of must and flesh at the brink of decay. It had surprised him earlier, when he’d come across it in the valley. Led him right to her. Here, in the closed space of the cave, her odor was strong enough to bring a sour taste to the back of his throat. He lay down as far from her as he could without leaving the fire’s warmth and slept.

He woke before sunrise to the hush that always followed an Aether storm. The girl hadn’t moved. It was a cold morning, the weather heading fast toward winter. Perry got the fire going again, moving slow. Even breathing too deep brought daggers to his side.

He hadn’t been in this cave since Vale deemed this area forbidden, but found it well stocked by traders who used the cave as shelter when they came through the valley. He found clothes and jars with nuts. Dried fruits that were still edible. He even found a healing compound. Perry spread it on the girl’s feet, seeing that only one cut looked deep. She could use stitches. But he’d never been good with a needle, and she was going to die one way or another. Besides, he didn’t need her walking. Only alert long enough to talk.

Perry checked the cut on his side. Only a short slice on his skin where he’d been hit, but he’d bruised a few ribs. He also had five stripes of torn flesh on his chest, thanks to the girl. But his body would heal and grow strong again, unlike Talon’s.

He ate, then sat looking at the flames, torturing himself by remembering everything that had happened. He’d lost Talon. Something he thought impossible. Now he needed the impossible to happen again. He needed to get Talon back.

Perry had done what he had to, leaving the Tides. But when he thought of how he’d run, his face went hotter than fire. He had spent his life dreaming of being the Tides’ Blood Lord. The tribe would think him a coward now. They’d be glad to have him gone.

When he lay down to sleep, the girl still hadn’t moved. He wondered if she’d ever wake.

Perry hunted the next morning. The hurt in his ribs made him sweat cold, but sitting about would’ve felt worse. He coaxed a rattler from a hole, speared it through with an arrow. He cooked and ate the rich meat, but felt nauseous afterward. Like the snake had come back to life in his gut.

By nightfall the girl began to stir with fever. Perry burned some dry oak leaves to mask her Dweller scent and stayed awake through the night. He needed to be ready if she came around. She might have information about Talon. And there was the eyepiece to find out about. He hoped it would give him a way to contact the Dwellers who’d taken Talon.

She opened her eyes the next afternoon and scurried away from him, pressing her back against the opposite wall. Her legs snapped together beneath the blanket.

Perry smirked. “You’ve been passed out two days and you’re worried about that now?” He shook his head. “Relax, Dweller. Last thing you bring to mind.”

She examined the dark granite walls. Then the steel cases of supplies stacked to one side. When she looked at the dwindling fire, she followed the thread of smoke toward the mouth of the cave.

“Yeah,” Perry said. “That’s the way out. But you’re not leaving yet.”

She turned to him, her gaze catching on his Markings. “What do you want from me, Savage?”

“Is that what you call us?”

“You’re murderers. Diseased. Cannibals.” She flung the words at him like curses. “I’ve heard the stories.”

Perry crossed his arms. She lived under a rock. What did she know about anything? “Guess we’re well-named, Mole.”

She watched him with a look of disgust. Then she touched her throat with a skitty hand. “I need water. Is there water?”

He took his leather waterskin from his satchel and held it up.

“What is that?” she asked.

“Water.”

“It looks like an animal.”

“It used to be.” The pouch protecting the bottle inside was made of goat hide.

“It looks filthy,” she said.

Perry unstopped the cork and drank deeply. “Tastes fine.” He shook it so the water sloshed around. “Lose your thirst?”

The girl snatched it from his hand, darted back to her spot. She shut her eyes and drank. When she was done, he raised a hand. “Keep it.” No way he’d drink from it now.

“Why were you out in the open?” he asked.

“Why should I tell you?”

“I saved your life. Twice, by my count.”

She sat forward. “You’re wrong! I’m here because of you. Guess who they think let you in?”

That surprised him. He shifted his back on the cool rock, wondering what had happened after he’d left her that night. It didn’t matter. He’d done what he could. Now there was only Talon to think of.

Perry slid his knife from the sheath at his hip. He checked the edge of the blade with his thumb, turning it so it caught the firelight. “I don’t have time to waste, Mole. Don’t think it would take much to make you talk.”

“You don’t scare me with that.”

Perry inhaled deeply. Her lie was acrid and sharp, bringing a bitter taste to his mouth. She wasn’t scared. She was terrified.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

“Your scent.”

Her lower lip quivered. “You drink from a rabbit and you think I smell?”

Perry knew what was coming when she started laughing. He caught the shift in the air like the drag of a dark tide. She wouldn’t be laughing for long.

He went outside and sat on a smooth boulder. It was a gray dusk, pulling a cold night in its wake. He sat and breathed and tried not to imagine Talon sobbing for his home like the girl in the cave.

Chapter 13
ARIA

To calm herself, Aria tried to pretend it was a Realm. A Paleolithic Realm. She was in a cave, after all. With a fire, which she avoided looking at for the memories it brought of Ag 6. But there were also steel cases to one side. And the navy blue blanket around her was made of fleece. And the glass jars lined up near the fire had metal screw-top lids. Too many things that broke the Stone Age illusion.

This was real.

Aria stood and winced at the pain in the soles of her feet. She pulled the blanket around her and listened for the Savage. Only the piercing rhythm of her headache broke the silence. Had she been infected with disease? Would she die in this cave, wrapped in this blue fleece blanket? She drew a few slow breaths. Thinking like that wouldn’t do any good.

There were supplies by the Outsider’s leather bag, but she wasn’t going to touch any of his things. She hobbled to the steel crates. Broken pieces of plastic and glass mixed with bottles of medicine. They were useless to her now. All the expiration dates reached back more than three hundred years, to the time of the Unity, when the Aether had forced people into Pods. She found one sterile bandage that had yellowed with time, but it would serve.

Aria drew up the blanket and gasped. Her feet were already bandaged. The Savage had tended to her feet.

He’d touched her.

She gripped the edge of the case, steadying herself. This was a good sign. If he’d tended to her feet, then he couldn’t mean her harm. Could he? The logic was sound, but just thinking of him brought a fresh wave of fear.

He was a beast. Immense. Muscular, but not like Soren. The Savage reminded her of the Equestrian Realms, how every movement in a horse showed a chorus of lean muscles rolling and shifting beneath skin. He had tattoos, just like in the stories. Two patterned bands around each bicep. When he’d turned his back, she’d seen another design on his skin, some sort of hawk with wings spanning shoulder to shoulder. His hair looked like it had never seen a brush. Snarled blond ropes, all uneven in length and color, coiling in every direction. As he’d spoken, she could’ve sworn she’d glimpsed teeth that were slightly too canine. But nothing was more hideous than his eyes.

Aria was accustomed to eyes of all colors. There were fads in the Realms. Purple had been the popular color just last month. The Savage’s eyes were bright green but also reflective, like the eerie gaze of a nocturnal animal. And she realized with a shudder, they were real.

She turned, biting her lip as she looked around. A cave. What was she doing here? How had this happened? The fire had dwindled. She could no longer see the wall she’d sat against. She didn’t want to be in this cave in the darkness, with no noise and nothing to see. She fastened the navy blanket into a toga, belting it with gauze so she could move better, and then went outside.

She found him sitting on a rock at the edge of the jagged slope where she’d fallen. He had his back to her, hadn’t yet heard her. Aria stopped within the cave’s mouth, a dozen feet away. She didn’t want to move any closer so she stood, hugging the blanket close to keep it from shifting with the wind.

He was shaving down a long piece of wood with a knife. Making an arrow, she guessed. A caveman fashioning his weapons. The tattoo on his back was of a falcon, judging by the sleek head. The eyes appeared to be masked with darker plumage. In the Realms people used moving designs. They chose new ones whenever they wanted. She couldn’t imagine having an image on her skin forever.

The Outsider turned and glared at her. Aria glared back at him, hiding a jolt of fear. How had he known she was there? He slipped his knife into a leather sheath at his belt.

She stepped closer, careful not to limp and to keep a good distance between them. Aria pushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear. She realized he’d handled the knife with the same habitual ease.

The Aether flowed in gentle ribbons of blue light, swirling above scuttling gray clouds. She wasn’t fooled this time. She knew how terrible it could be. Below she saw the valley they’d crossed in the storm, mottled with uneven light.

“Is it twilight?”

“Dusk,” he said.

She glanced at him. Wasn’t twilight the same as dusk? And how did he manage to drawl such a brief little word? Dusssk. Like the word could go on all day. “Why did you bring me here? Why didn’t you just leave me out there?”

“I need information. Your people took someone from me.”

“That’s ridiculous. What use could we have for a Savage?”

“More use than they had for you.”

Her breath caught as she remembered Consul Hess’s lifeless eyes and empty smile. The Savage was right. She’d served her purpose. She’d taken the fall for Soren and been put out to die. Out here, with this beast.

“So you want to get into Reverie? To save this person? Is that what you were doing that night?”

“I will get in. I’ve done it before.”

She laughed. “We disarmed the system. And that dome was damaged. You got lucky, Savage. The walls protecting Reverie are ten feet thick. There’s no way you could ever get through them again. What’s your plan, anyway? Are you going to hurl dung patties? Or maybe use a slingshot? One well-aimed stone would probably do it.”

He spun and came toward her. Aria darted aside, her heart leaping into her throat, but he strode past her, disappearing back into the cave. Moments later he stalked back out. His eyes gleamed as he held something up.

“Is this better than a dung patty, Mole?”

For long seconds, Aria stared at the curved object in his hand. She never saw Smarteyes off people’s faces. Seeing one in the possession of a Savage, she nearly didn’t recognize it.

“Is that mine?”

He nodded once. “I took it. After it was torn from you.”

Relief shot through her limbs. She could reach her mother in Bliss! And if the recording of Soren was still there, she could prove what he and his father had done to her. She looked up. “It’s not yours. Give it to me.”

He shook his head. “Not until you answer my questions.”

“If I do, then you’ll give it to me?”

“I said I would.”

Aria’s heart pounded. She needed her Smarteye. Her mother would rescue her. She could be on another Hover within hours on the way to Bliss. With Lumina’s help, she’d expose Consul Hess and Soren.

She couldn’t believe she was considering helping an Outsider get into Reverie. Wasn’t that treason? Hadn’t Hess practically accused her of that very thing? She’d never do it. Whatever he asked about this missing person, she’d give him false information. She’d tell him what he wanted to hear and he would never know otherwise.

“All right,” she said.

His hand snapped shut over the device and then he crossed his arms. Aria stared in horror. Her Smarteye was buried in a Neanderthal’s armpit.

“Why were you out there?” His mouth curved with satisfaction. It was the same question she’d avoided before. But now she’d have to answer him.

She made a sound of disgust. “There were only two of us who survived. One was the son of a Consul—of a very powerful person in our Pod. I was the other.”

He grew silent. Her gaze darted to his chest, where she saw the tracks her nails had left on his skin. She looked away quickly, repulsed that she’d touched him. Did he have a problem with clothes? It wasn’t exactly warm out. She shivered as a gust swept past, deciding Savages must not feel cold.

“Do you have any allies on the inside still?” he asked.

“Did you just say allies?”

“Friends,” he said sharply. “People who’ll help you, Mole.”

Paisley came to mind. Pain came in a wave, threatening to sweep her off. Aria breathed for a few moments, pushing it back. “My mother. She’ll help.”

The Savage’s gaze narrowed. He watched her too closely. She kept herself from fidgeting, but couldn’t help adding, “She’s a scientist,” like it would mean anything to him.

He held out the Smarteye. “You can reach her through this?”

“Yes,” she said. “I think so.” If Hess was trying to track it, the Eye might have been reactivated.

“Could she learn about a stolen person?” the Outsider asked.

Aria narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t see why that would ever happen. Why would anyone want a disease-ridden Savage? But disagreeing wouldn’t help. “Yes, she could. She’s respected because of her work. She has some influence. She could find out something. If there’s anything to find out. Give that to me and I’ll help you.”

She was proud of herself. The lie slid out smoothly.

He came right up to her, bending close. “You will help, Dweller. It’s the only way you’re going to live.”

She leaped back. “I said I would!” What was wrong with him?

He thrust the Smarteye at her. Aria clasped it in both hands and walked away. Just holding the Eye, she felt closer to home. She wondered how much disease she couldn’t see on it. The Outsider didn’t look terribly filthy, but he had to be.

“Get to it.”

She looked over her shoulder. “Who should I ask about when I reach my mother?”

The Savage hesitated. “A boy. Seven years old. His name is Talon.”

“A boy?” He thought her people had taken a child?

“I’ve waited long enough, Mole.”

Aria placed it over her left eye, feeling the tenderness over her eye socket. The biotech worked immediately. The patch suctioned to her skin, the inner membrane loosening and softening. The consistency turning from gel to liquid until she could blink as easily as with her uncovered eye.

She waited for her Smartscreen to appear, her muscles rigid with anticipation. She tried her pass codes. She tried to reset the system, the same thing she’d done in Ag 6. Nothing appeared. No “Songbird” file. No icons. She was simply looking through the clear patch, seeing the bleak earth fading into darkness and the sky moving with Aether.

The Outsider loomed over her. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing,” she said as a raw ache built in her throat. “It’s not responding. I thought . . . I thought they might have linked it back up, but I don’t see anything. Maybe it shorted out in the storm. I don’t know.”

He muttered something, shoving a hand into his hair. Desperately Aria ran through more commands as the Outsider paced. Every failed attempt brought her closer to crying. The Outsider stopped, turning toward her. What now? Was he going to leave her there? Or worse?

“I need that back, Mole.”

“I told you it doesn’t work!”

“I’m going to get it fixed.”

Aria couldn’t hold back a sputter of laughter. “You know how to fix this?”

His glare was scathing. “I know someone who can.”

She still couldn’t believe it. “You know a person—an Outsider—who can fix this?”

“Do you have to hear everything twice, Dweller? I’ll be back in less than two weeks. There’s enough food and water in there to last you. Just stay put. No one comes out this way. Not this time of year. Have that thing off by the time I’m done packing.” He strode back into the cave.

Aria rushed after him, staying close enough to follow the pale streaks of his hair through the gloom. The fire had dwindled to embers. He tossed a piece of wood onto them, sending a scatter of cinders upward.

“I’m not staying here alone for a week. Or two weeks, or whatever.”

He moved to one of the cases and began stuffing things into a leather bag. “You’ll be safer here.”

“No. I’m not staying! I may not live—” Her voice broke. “I may not have that long. My immune system isn’t made for out here. Two weeks might be too late. If you want my help, I need to come.”

He considered this awhile. He set his bag on the ground. “I won’t slow down for you. That means walking days on those.” He nodded at her feet.

“You won’t have to slow down,” she said, relieved. At least she wouldn’t be left alone or separated from her Smarteye.

He sent her a skeptical look and then opened another case. The fire was burning again, illuminating the rough walls of the cave. As he turned away, she noticed he had a patch of blue bruising beneath one arm that spread across his ribs. Aria watched the way the tattoo on his back moved as he moved. She was a falcon too. Her voice had a broad range, but in opera she was categorized as a falcon soprano. That’s where Lumina got her nickname. Aria shuddered at the coincidence.

“Does that have some sort of meaning?” she asked.

He took garments from the crate and shook them out. They were army fatigues from the time of the Unity. Camouflaged cargo pants and button-down shirt. He tossed them to her. “Clothes.”

She dodged aside and then peered at the coarse mounds of material. “Can we boil them first?”

No answer again. She slipped into the shadows and pulled them on, moving as fast as she could. They were huge on her, but warmer and easier to move in. She rolled and tied them at her wrists and ankles and used the gauze as a belt again.

She stepped back toward the firelight. The Outsider was sitting where he’d been before. He had on a dark leather vest, similar to the kind boys wore in Gladiator Realms. Another navy blanket like hers was rolled up at his side.

He took quick stock of the adjustments she’d made to the clothes. “There’s food in those,” he said, nodding to a row of jars he’d set by the fire. “One’s filled with water.”

“Aren’t we leaving?”

“I’ve seen the way you move through the dark. We’ll sleep now and travel by day.”

He lay down and closed his eyes as if that were that.

She drank some water but couldn’t manage more than a few pieces of the dried fruit. The figs were too grainy, sticking to her throat, and the constant swirl of anxiety in her stomach didn’t allow room for hunger. Aria leaned back against the cold granite. The soles of her feet throbbed. She was sure she’d never be able to sleep.

The Outsider didn’t seem to have any trouble with it. She could look at him more closely now that he was asleep. He was covered with imperfections. A faded blue bruise spread over one cheek, matching the one she’d seen on his ribs. Pale scars hashed small lines through the scruff on his jaw. His nose was on the long side and had a bend toward the top, where it had probably been broken more than once. It was a nose fit for a gladiator.

The Outsider peered at her. Aria froze as their eyes locked. He was human. She knew that. But there was something soulless about his bright stare. Without a word, he turned so he faced away from her.

Aria waited for her heartbeat to settle. Then she tugged the blanket over her shoulders and lay down. She kept an eye on the fire and the Savage, not sure which repelled her most. Soon her eyes grew heavy and it occurred to her how often she was wrong. She would sleep.

Even now. Even here.

Chapter 14

PEREGRINE

Perry woke at first light, second-guessing his deal with the Dweller. How would she make the harsh journey with the cuts on her feet? But she was probably right. He doubted she’d survive the time it took him to get to Marron’s and back. He knew one thing for certain: She’d need shoes.

He tore off the first book cover with an impatient tug. The girl shot upright, waking with a startled yelp.

“What is that? Is that a book?”

“Not anymore.”

She touched the device over her eye a few times, her fingers fluttering and skitty. Perry looked away. The eyepiece was disgusting. A parasite. And it reminded him too much of the men who’d taken Talon. He went back to work, tearing the other leather cover off. Then he took his bag and knelt in front of her. He lifted her foot, pushed the bandage aside.

“You’re healing up.”

She sucked in a breath. “Let go. Don’t touch me.”

The cold scent of her fear came at him, flickering blue at the edges of his vision. “Steady, Mole,” he said, letting go of her foot. “We have a deal. If you help me, I won’t hurt you.”

“What are you doing?” she asked, looking at the ripped covers. Her pale skin had nearly gone white.

“Making you shoes. There aren’t any in the supplies. You can’t travel barefoot.”

Cautiously she gave him her foot. Perry set it on the book cover. “Be still as you can.” He took Talon’s knife and traced the outline of her foot with the tip of the blade. He was careful not to touch her as that triggered her panic.

“You don’t have a pen or anything?” she asked.

“A pen? Lost it about a hundred years ago.”

“I didn’t think Outsiders lived that long.”

Perry looked down, hiding his face. Was that a joke? Did Dwellers live that long?

“Are you a shoemaker or something?” she asked after a moment. “A cobbler?”

Did she think this was what he’d come up with if he were? “No. I’m a hunter.”

“Oh. That explains a lot.”

Perry didn’t know what it explained other than that he hunted.

“So you . . . kill things? Animals and things?”

Perry closed his eyes. Then he sat back and gave her a wide grin. “If it moves, I kill it. Then I gut it, skin it, and eat it.”

She shook her head, her eyes dazed. “I just . . . I can’t believe you’re real.”

Perry scowled at her. “What else would I be, Mole?”

She kept quiet for a while after that. Perry finished outlining her feet. He cut the impressions out. Poked holes into the binding with the tip of the blade, working as swiftly as he could. This close, her Dweller scent was making him sick.

“My name is Aria.” She waited for him to say something. “Don’t you think we should know each other’s names if we’re going to be allies?” She arched a dark eyebrow, mocking his earlier use of the word.

“We might be allies, Mole, but we’re not friends.” He laced the leather cord through the holes and then tied them around her ankles. “Try those.”

She stood and took a few steps, drawing up her pants so she could see her feet. “They’re good,” she said, surprised.

He swept the leftover scraps of leather cord into his satchel. The covers made perfect soles, just as he’d thought. Tough but flexible. Best use he’d ever seen for a book. They’d last a few days. Then he’d have to come up with something better. If she lived that long.

If she didn’t, he’d already decided he would take the eyepiece to Marron’s alone. He’d find a way to send a signal to any Dweller who’d hear it. He’d offer himself and the eyepiece in exchange for his nephew.

She lifted a foot and looked at the bottom. “How fitting. Did you choose this one on purpose, Outsider? I’m not sure this bodes well for our journey.”

Perry snatched his satchel. Took up his bow and quiver. He didn’t have a clue what book he’d chosen. He couldn’t read. Had never learned no matter how many times Mila and Talon had tried to teach him. He walked out of the cave before she could see that and call him a stupid Savage.

They spent the morning crossing hills Perry had known all his life. They were nearing the eastern edge of Vale’s territory, rolling land that climbed out of the Tide Valley. Wherever he looked he saw memories. The knoll where he and Roar had made their first bows. The oak tree with the split trunk that Talon had climbed a hundred times. The banks of the dry creek that first time with Brooke.

His father had walked this land once. Longer ago still, his mother had as well. It was strange missing a place before having left it. Unsettling to realize he had no loft to climb back into when he tired of being in the open. And he was walking with a Dweller. That cast the day in an odd light as well. Her presence made him shifty and irritated. He knew she wasn’t the Mole who took Talon, but she was still one of them.

She jumped at every small sound during the first hours. She walked too slow and made more noise than someone her size ever should. Worst of all, she’d begun to put off a thick black temper as the morning wore on, telling him that grief had followed him. This girl he’d somehow struck a bargain with had suffered and lost and was hurting. Perry did his best to keep upwind from her, where the air was clear.

“Where are we going, Savage?” she asked around midday. She was a good ten paces behind him. Walking ahead held another advantage besides avoiding her scent. He didn’t have to keep seeing the eyepiece on her face. “I think I’ll call you that since I don’t know your name.”

“I won’t answer.”

“Well, Hunter? Where are we heading?”

He tipped his chin. “That way.”

“That’s helpful.”

Perry glanced over his shoulder at her. “We’re going to see a friend. His name is Marron. He’s that way.” He pointed to Mount Arrow. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” she said, frustrated. “What is snow like?”

That nearly stopped him in his tracks. How could a person know about snow without knowing it was pure and silent and whiter than bone? Without knowing how the chill of it stung your skin? “It’s cold.”

“What about roses? Do they really smell so great?”

“See many roses around here?” He knew better than to give a true answer. From what he could tell, she’d never heard about Scires in her stories. Perry wanted to keep it that way. He didn’t trust her. Knew she wasn’t planning to help him. Whatever double-crossing she meant to do, he’d figure it out.

“Do the clouds ever clear?” she asked.

“Completely? No. Never.”

“What about the Aether? Does that ever go away?”

“Never, Mole. The Aether never leaves.”

She looked up. “A world of nevers under a never sky.”

She fit in well then, he thought. A girl who never shut up.

Her questions continued through the day. She asked if dragonflies made a sound when they flew and if rainbows were myths. When he stopped answering, she turned to speaking to herself as though it were a natural thing. She talked about the warm color of the hills against the blue cast of the Aether. When the wind kicked up, she said the sound reminded her of turbines. She stared at rocks, wondering at the minerals that made them, even pocketing a few. She’d fallen into a deep silence once, when the sun appeared, and it was then he’d wondered most what she was thinking.

Perry couldn’t figure out how a person could be grieving and still manage to talk so much. He ignored her as best he could. He kept an eye on the Aether, relieved to see that it moved in pale drifts above. They’d leave the Tides’ land soon so he paid close attention to the scents carrying on the wind. He knew they’d meet with some form of danger eventually. Traveling outside tribe territories guaranteed it. Hard enough to survive alone in the borderlands. Perry wondered how he’d manage it with a Mole.

Late in the afternoon, he found a sheltered valley to lay camp. Night was falling by the time he got the fire going. The Dweller sat on an overturned tree examining the soles of her feet. What healthy skin she’d had left that morning had blistered.

Perry found the salve he’d taken from the cave and brought it to her. She unscrewed the small jar, her black hair spilling forward as she peered at it. Perry frowned. What was she doing? Was her eyepiece some sort of magnifying glass?

“Don’t eat that, Dweller. Spread it on your feet. Here.” He pushed a handful of dried fruit at her along with a cluster of thistle roots he’d dug up earlier. They tasted like uncooked potatoes, but at least they wouldn’t starve. “That you can eat.”

She kept the fruit but handed the roots back. Perry returned to the fire, too stunned to be offended. No one handed food back.

“The fire won’t burn into these trees,” he said when she didn’t join him. She was inspecting each piece of fruit before she ate it. “It won’t burn like that night.”

“I just don’t like it,” she said.

“You’ll change your mind when the cold sets in.”

Perry ate his own meager dinner. He wished he’d taken time to hunt. Probably wouldn’t have worked even if he had. Her constant blather had scared off game. Nearly scared him off too. He’d need to find food tomorrow. They’d eaten almost everything he’d brought from the cave.

“The boy who was taken,” she said. “Is he your son?”

“How old do you think I am, Dweller?”

“I’m a little shaky on the fossil record, but I’d say fifty to sixty thousand years.”

“Eighteen. And no. He’s not my son.”

“I’m seventeen.” She cleared her throat. “You don’t look eighteen,” she said after a few moments. “I mean, you do and you don’t.”

Perry figured she was waiting for him to ask why. He didn’t care.

“I’m feeling fine, by the way. I have a headache that won’t go away and my feet hurt like mad. But I think I’ll live to see another day. I can’t be sure, though. The stories say diseases can creep up quietly.”

Perry bit down into his teeth, thinking of Talon and Mila. Was he supposed to feel sorry for her because she might fall ill? He couldn’t imagine a life without disease or illness. He took the two blankets from his bag. Sleep would bring morning and morning would bring him closer to reaching Marron.

“Why do you avoid looking at me?” she asked. “Because I’m a Dweller? Are we ugly to Outsiders?”

“Which question do you want me to answer first?”

“It doesn’t matter. You won’t answer anyway. You don’t answer questions.”

“You don’t stop asking them.”

“See what I mean? You avoid answering and you avoid looking. You’re an avoider.”

Perry flung the blanket at her. She hadn’t been ready. It hit her on the face. “You’re not.”

She snatched it away, shooting him a fierce look. Perry could see her perfectly, though she sat beyond the circle of firelight.

In the cover of darkness, he let the corner of his mouth lift.

Hours later he woke to the sound of singing. Quiet words, sung in a language he didn’t know, but that seemed familiar. He’d never heard a voice like that. So clear and rich. He thought he might still be dreaming until he saw the girl. She’d moved closer to the fire. To him. She hugged her legs as she rocked back and forth. He caught the salty tang of tears in the air, and a cold slash of fear.

“Aria,” Perry said. He surprised himself by using her name. He decided it suited her. There was a curious sound about it. Like her very name was a question. “What is it?”

“I saw Soren. The one from the fire that night.”

Perry jumped to his feet and searched into the fog. He’d never liked fog. It robbed him of one of his Senses, but he still had the other, his strongest. He breathed in deeply, careful to keep his movements subtle. Her fear wove with the woodsmoke, but there were no other Dweller scents.

“You dreamed it. There’s no one here except us.”

“We don’t dream,” she said.

Perry frowned but decided not to mull over the strangeness of that now. “There’s no trace of him here.”

“I saw him,” she said. “It felt real. It felt just like being with him in a Realm.” She brushed the blanket over her wet cheeks. “I couldn’t get away from him again.”

Now he didn’t know what to do. If she were his sister or Brooke, he would have held her. He thought about telling her he’d keep her safe, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. He would protect her. But only as long as it took to get Talon back.

“Could it have been a message through your eyepiece?” he asked.

“No,” she said firmly. “It’s still not working. But the strange thing is, I saw what I recorded that night. I recorded Soren when he was . . . attacking me.” She cleared her throat. “And that’s what I saw. It’s like my mind played the recording back on its own.”

That was called a dream, but Perry wasn’t going to argue over it. “Is that why the Dwellers want it back? Because of the recording?”

She hesitated and then nodded. “Yes. It could ruin both Soren and his father.”

He ran a hand over his hair. Now he understood why the Dwellers wanted the eyepiece. Had they taken Talon as barter? “So we have leverage?”

“If we can fix the Smarteye.”

Perry exhaled slowly, feeling a surge of hope. He’d been prepared to surrender himself to the Dwellers in exchange for Talon. Maybe he wouldn’t have to. If the Dwellers wanted that eyepiece badly enough, it might be enough to get Talon back.

The girl’s temper was beginning to ease. He threw on a fresh piece of wood and sat on the far side of the fire. He couldn’t avoid looking at the eyepiece on her face now. “Why do you wear that thing if it’s broken?” he asked.

“It’s part of me. It’s how we see the Realms.”

He had no idea what Realms were. He didn’t even know what to ask about them.

“Realms are virtual places,” she said. “Created with computer programming.”

He picked up a stick and poked at the embers. She’d explained without him asking. Like she knew he had no idea. That streaked him a bit, but she kept talking so he listened.

“They’re places as real as this is. If my Smarteye was working, I could go to any part of the world and beyond too, from right here. Without going anywhere. There are Realms for times that have passed. Last year the Medieval Realms were champ. You’d be great in one of those. And then there are Fantasy Realms and Future Realms. Realms for hobbies and any kind of interest you can think of.”

“So . . . it’s like watching a video?” He’d seen those at Marron’s. Images like memories playing out on a screen.

“No, that’s only a visual. The Realms are multidimensional. If you go to a party, you feel the people dancing around you, and you can smell them and hear the music. And you can just change things, like choose more comfortable shoes to dance in. Or change your hair color. Or choose another body style. You can do anything you want.”

Perry crossed his arms. It sounded like she was describing a daydream. “What happens to you when you go to one of these fake places? Do you fall asleep?”

“No, you’re just fractioning. Doing two things at once.” She shrugged. “Like walking and talking at the same time.”

Perry fought back a smile. Her words from yesterday sprang to mind. That explains a lot. “What’s the point of going to a fake place?” he asked.

“The Realms are the only places we can go. They were created when the Pods were built. Without them, we’d probably go insane with boredom. And they’re pseudo, not fake. They feel exactly real. Well, some things I’m not sure about anymore. There are a few things out here that aren’t what I expected.”

She dug into one of her pockets. She’d collected about a dozen rocks yesterday. None of them looked special to him. They looked like rocks.

“Each one of these is unique,” she said. “Their shape. Their weight and composition. It’s amazing. In the Realms, there are formulas for randomness. I can always pick them out, though. Spot how every twelfth rock is a modified version of the first one’s color or density, or whatever the variation might be.

“But rocks aren’t the only thing. When I was out in that desert, and then when . . .” The way she looked at him, he knew whatever she’d say next, he was part of it. “I’ve never felt that way. We don’t have fear like that. But if those two things are different, then there has to be more, right? Other things besides fear and rocks that are different in the real?”

Perry nodded absently, imagining a world without fear. Was that possible? If there was no fear, how could there be comfort? Or courage?

She took his nod as encouragement to continue, which he was fine with. She had a good voice. He hadn’t realized until he’d heard her sing. He’d rather she sang more instead of talked, but he wasn’t going to ask.

“See, it’s all energy, like everything. The Eye sends impulses that flow right into the brain, fooling it. Telling it, ‘You’re seeing this and touching that.’ But maybe some things haven’t been perfected yet. Maybe they’re close to the real thing, but not the same. Anyway, that’s not what you asked. I wear it because I’m not myself without it.”

Perry scratched his cheek and winced, forgetting about the bruise there. “Our Markings are like that. I wouldn’t be myself without them.”

Right away he regretted saying the words. Daylight streaked over the ridgeline in long beams, slicing through the fog. He shouldn’t be sitting there talking with a Dweller when Talon was dying somewhere, away from home.

“Do your tattoos have to do with your name?”

“Yes,” he said, stuffing his blanket into his satchel.

“Are you named Falcon? Or Hawk?”

“No and no.” He stood and buckled his belt. Grabbed his bow and quiver. “I’ll take the eyepiece now.”

Her eyebrows drew together, creasing the pale skin between. “No.”

“Mole, if you’re seen with that device, there won’t be any way to pass you off as one of us.”

“But I wore it yesterday.”

“Yesterday was yesterday. Here on it’ll be different.”

“Take your tattoos off first, Savage.”

Perry froze, grinding down into his teeth. The funny thing about being called a Savage was that it made him want to act like one. “We’re not in your world anymore, Dweller. People die here and it’s not pseudo. It’s very, very real.”

She tipped her chin up, daring him. “You do it then. You’ve seen how it’s done.”

In a flash of memory, Perry saw Soren ripping the device off her face. He didn’t want to do this. He reached for the knife at his hip. “If that’s how it needs to be.”

“Wait! I’ll do it.” She turned away from him. When she faced him again seconds later, she had the device in her hand. Her face was tight with fury as she slipped it into a pocket.

Perry took a step toward her. He twirled the knife in his hand like any kid could do, but it worked, drawing her eye to the weapon. “I said I’ll take it.”

“Stop! Just stay away from me. Here.” She flung it at him.

Perry caught it, dropped it into his satchel. Then he walked away, nearly fumbling his knife as he slipped it back into its sheath.

Chapter 15
ARIA

Aria struggled to keep up with the Outsider the second day. Her feet grew worse with every step. Here on, it’ll be different, he’d said. But it hadn’t been. The hours passed much as they had the previous day. Constant walking. Constant pain. Headaches that came and went.

She’d given up speaking with the Outsider. They trudged in silence, with only the sound of her book covers crunching over the earth. She’d almost laughed when she’d read The Odyssey on the leather. It wasn’t a good omen for their journey. But she hadn’t seen any Sirens or Cyclops so far, just scrubby hills with clusters of trees here and there. She’d thought there’d be so much to fear out here, but her companion was the scariest thing around.

They spent an hour digging with flat rocks around midday. Somehow the Outsider had found water a foot beneath the ground. They filled their waterskins and ate in silence. When they were done they sat for a while, the Aether flowing calmly above them. The Outsider looked up, considering the sky. He’d done it often throughout the day. There was something so intent in the way he studied the Aether. Like he found meaning in it.

Aria lined her collection of rocks in front of her. She was up to fifteen. She noticed dirt under her fingernails. Were her nails longer? They couldn’t be. Nails weren’t supposed to grow. Nail growth was regress. Pointless, so it had been eliminated.

The Outsider brought out a flat stone from his leather pack and began to sharpen his knife. Aria watched him from the corner of her eye. His hands were broad and big boned. They drew the blade over the smooth surface in even, sure strokes. The metal hissed a quiet rhythm. Her gaze drifted higher. Daylight caught on the fine blond fuzz over his jaw. Facial hair was another trait genetic engineers had done away with. The Outsider’s hands stopped. He peered up, a quick flash of green. Then he put away his things and they walked again.

In all the quiet, Aria was left to circle in her own thoughts. They weren’t good ones. Her enthusiasm over finding the Smarteye had worn off. She’d tried distracting herself yesterday by observing the outside, but that no longer worked. She missed Paisley and Caleb. She thought about her mother and wondered about the “Songbird” message. She worried that her feet would get infected. Whenever a headache flared, she imagined that it was the first symptom of an illness that would kill her.

Aria wanted to feel like herself again. A girl who chased the best music in the Realms and bored her friends with facts on inane subjects. Here, she was a girl with leather book covers for shoes. A girl stuck walking across hills with a mute Savage if she had any hope of staying alive.

She made up a tune to match all the fear and helplessness she kept locked inside. A mournful, terrible melody that was her secret, sung only in the privacy of her thoughts. Aria hated the tune. Hated even more how much she needed it. She vowed that when she found Lumina, she’d leave this pathetic part of herself on the outside where it belonged. She’d never sing the sad melody again.

That night, she collapsed before the Outsider had the fire burning, wrapped in the blue fleece blanket. She rested her head on his leather bag, finding that she needed a pillow more than she feared filth.

She had never known this much pain. She had never been this tired. She hoped that was it. That she was tired, and not surrendering to the Death Shop.

On the morning of their third day of traveling together, the Outsider divided the last of the food he’d brought from the cave. He ate, avoiding looking her way, as usual. Aria shook her head. He was rude and cold and eerily animal, with his flashing green eyes and his wolfish teeth, but by some miracle they’d struck a deal. She could’ve had worse luck than to have crossed paths with him.

Aria chewed on a dried fig as she ran through the inventory of her discomforts. A headache, muscle pains, and cramps low in her stomach. She couldn’t look at the soles of her feet anymore.

“I’ll have to hunt later,” the Outsider said, poking at the fire with a stick. The morning was cooler. They’d been climbing steadily into higher terrain. He’d put on a long-sleeved shirt beneath the leather vest. It was a tired white color, rife with loose threads and patched holes. It looked like something a shipwreck survivor might wear, but she found it easier to look at him fully dressed.

“Fine,” she said, and frowned. Monosyllabicism. An Outsider disease, and she’d been infected.

“We’ll be moving onto the mountain today,” he said, his gaze darting to her feet. “Well out of my brother’s territory.”

Aria shifted the blanket tighter around her. He had a brother? She didn’t know why it was hard to imagine. Maybe because she hadn’t seen any sign of other Outsiders. And she’d had no idea the land out here had any divisions.

“Territory? Is he a duke or something?”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “Something like that.”

Oh, this was champ. She’d found herself a Savage prince. Don’t laugh, she told herself. Don’t laugh, Aria. He was being downright chatty, for him, and she needed to talk. Or listen. She couldn’t go another day with nothing but that melody rattling like a ghost in her mind.

“There are territories,” he said, “and there’s open land where the dispersed roam.”

“What are dispersed?”

His eyes narrowed, annoyed at being interrupted. “People who live outside of tribe protection. Wanderers who move in small groups or alone. Looking for food and shelter and . . . just looking to stay alive.” He paused, his wide shoulders shifting. “Bigger tribes claim territories. My brother is a Blood Lord. He commands my tribe, the Tides.”

Blood Lord. What a horrible-sounding title. “Are you close to your brother?”

He looked at the stick in his hands. “We were once. Now he wants to kill me.”

Aria froze. “Are you serious?”

“You’ve asked me that before. Do you Dwellers only joke?”

“Not only,” she answered. “But we do.”

Aria waited for his ridicule. She had a fair idea now how hard his life was, if finding a drink of murky water took an hour’s worth of digging. There didn’t seem to be much to laugh about out here. But the Outsider didn’t say anything. He tossed the stick into the fire and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. She wondered what he saw in the flames. Was it the boy he looked for?

Aria didn’t understand why an Outsider boy would ever be kidnapped. The Pods controlled populations carefully. Everything had to be regulated. Why would they waste precious resources on a Savage child?

The Outsider picked up his bow and quiver, looping them over his shoulder. “No talking once we cross that ridge. Not a word, understand?”

“Why? What’s out there?”

His eyes, always bright, looked like green lights in the pale dawn. “Your stories are, Mole. All of them.”

As soon as they set off Aria knew this day would be different.

Until that morning, the Outsider had been aloof, light on his feet for all his size. But now he sank into his legs, wary and watchful. The headache that had been coming and going since she’d had her Smarteye ripped off stayed for good, ringing like a shrill whistle in her ears. Her sandals slipped over rocky slopes, chaffing at her blisters. The Outsider kept looking back at her, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. She had promised to keep up, so she would. And what choice did she have?

By midday, her feet had begun to ooze a disgusting combination of blood and pus. Aria couldn’t walk without biting the inside of her lip. Eventually her lip started bleeding too.

The way grew less steep as they entered into the woods, giving her feet and muscles a break. She was remembering the last time she’d been beneath trees, with Soren chasing her and Paisley, when they came abruptly to an empty field.

Aria stopped beside the Outsider as they took in a wide patch of earth that was gray, almost silver, and perfectly bare. She didn’t see a single twig or blade of grass. Only the golden wink of a few scattered embers and gentle traces of smoke rising here and there. She knew this was the scar left by an Aether strike.

The Outsider put a finger to his lips, signaling for quiet. He reached down to his belt and slowly withdrew his knife, motioning for her to stay close. What is it? she wanted to ask. What do you see? She forced herself not to speak as they wove through the trees.

She was no more than ten feet away when she saw the person hunched in the knot of a tree, barefoot and wearing tatty, shredded clothes. She did not know if it was a man or a woman. The skin was too drawn and dirty to tell. Owlish eyes peered through yellow-white locks of hair. Aria thought the thing was smiling at first, then realized it had no lips, and so no way to conceal its snaggled brown teeth. It might have been a corpse if it hadn’t been for the panicked look in its eyes.

Aria couldn’t look away. The creature in the tree lifted its head, daylight glistening on the saliva that ran down its chin. With its eyes on the Outsider, it uttered a strange, desperate wail. An inhuman sound, but Aria understood. It was a call for mercy.

The Outsider touched her arm. Aria jumped and then realized he was just guiding her on. For the next hour, she couldn’t get her heart to settle down. She felt those bulging eyes on her and heard the echo of that horrid wail. Questions raced through her mind. She wanted to understand how a person could become that way. How could they survive alone and terrified? But she kept silent, knowing she would endanger them by speaking.

Somehow she’d come to think she and the Outsider were alone in this empty world. They weren’t. Now she wondered what else was out there.

They found another cave in the late afternoon. This one was damp and crossed with formations that looked like melted wax. It stank of sulfur. Scraps of plastic and bone littered the ground.

The Outsider set his leather bag down. “I’m going to hunt,” he said quietly. “I’ll be back before it’s dark.”

“I’m not staying here alone. What was that thing?”

“I told you about the dispersed.”

“Well, I’m not staying. You can’t leave me here with that dispersed thing out there.”

“That thing is the least of our worries. Besides, it’s well behind us.”

“I’ll be quiet.”

“Not quiet enough. Look, we need to eat and I can’t hunt with you skittering all over the place.”

“I saw some berries back there. We passed a bush with berries.”

“Just stay here,” he said, his voice growing harsh. “Rest your feet.” He reached into his satchel and handed her a knife, hilt first.

It was a small knife, not the long one she’d seen him sharpening. There were feathers carved into the horn handle. It struck her as absurd to decorate such a sinister tool. “I don’t know what to do with this.”

“Wave it around and yell, Mole. Loud as you can. That’s all you need to do.”

It grew dark in the cave well before it did outside. Aria moved to the mouth and listened to an odd quiet with a headache ringing in her ears. The cave sat along a slope. She studied the trees around, straining her eyes as she searched downhill for people huddled in knots. She didn’t see any. Some of the trees were leafless and bare. She wondered why some thrived and others died. Was it the soil? Or was it the Aether choosing certain ones to incinerate? She saw no reason in it. No pattern. Nothing made sense out here.

She ached to talk to someone. Anyone. She needed to not be alone right now, thinking of that tree person. When she heard rustlings in the depths of the cave, Aria crawled to the Outsider’s leather pack and found her Smarteye. It didn’t work, but maybe wearing it would calm her as it had the first day. And it would annoy the Outsider too. That counted for something.

She went back to the mouth of the cave and applied the device. It grabbed tight to her skin, pulling uncomfortably on her eye socket. She held her breath, praying to see her Smartscreen. The message from her mother. Anything. But of course the Eye hadn’t fixed itself.

Pais, she pretended to say through the Eye. Paisley was dead. She still couldn’t believe it. The tears came out of her in a rush. Since I’m pretending already, I’m going to pretend you’re still alive and that this is a big joke. A Practical Joke Realm. But a really terrible one that should be deleted. I’m in a cave, Paisley. On the outside. You’d hate it. I hate it. She wiped her tears with her sleeve. This is the second cave I’ve been in. It stinks like rotten eggs in here. And there are noises. Weird draggy noises, like something is dragging? But the first cave wasn’t so bad. It was smaller and warmer. Can you believe I have a favorite cave? Paisley . . . I’m not doing so great right now.

Crying had sent her headache piercing through the backs of her eyes and she knew, she just knew the tree thing was in the cave shuffling toward her. She pictured that big stare and the gnarled mouth with all the crooked teeth and glistening drool.

Aria grabbed the knife and darted outside.

Silence. She sniffed and looked around. No tree people. Nothing but the woods. The cave loomed behind her. She was not going back in there.

She picked her way down the slope, overly aware of the knife in her hand. She found the berry bush without any trouble. Smiling, she stuffed as many berries into her cargo pockets as she could and then made a bowl with her shirt.

She imagined what the Outsider would say when he saw them. It would be one word, no doubt. But he’d see she could do better than stay. Aria hurried back uphill, deciding she’d take control over what she could. She was tired of being useless.

She hadn’t been gone more than half an hour, she guessed, but darkness was falling fast. She smelled the smoke first and then saw a pale column up ahead, against the deepening blue sky. The Outsider had returned. She almost called out to him, wanting to brag about her berries. She decided to surprise him instead.

Aria came to a dead stop a few feet away from the cave. Smoke tumbled from the top of the wide mouth like a waterfall pouring upward. Several male voices spoke inside. She didn’t recognize any of them. She backed away as quietly as she could, her heart thundering in her chest. With her ringing ears, she couldn’t tell how much noise she made. She found out when three figures emerged from the cave.

By the failing light, she saw that one man, the tallest, wore a black cape, the hood pulled over a mask with a long, crowlike beak. He held a pale staff with bits of rope and feathers dangling from the top. He stayed by the cave as two other men came toward her.

“Rat . . . is that a Dweller?” said one.

“It is indeed,” answered the other. He was slight and bald, with a large pointed nose that left little doubt as to the origin of his name. “You’re well gone from home, en’t you, girl?”

She heard jingling. Aria’s gaze snapped to Rat’s waist. Bells hung from his belt, winking in the dim light. They trilled with each step he took.

“Stop there.” She remembered she had a knife. She went to raise it, and saw that she already held it in front of her. Aria raised it higher. “Don’t come any closer.”

Rat grinned, showing teeth that looked like they’d been filed to points. “Easy, girl. We’re not going to hurt ya. Are we, Trip?”

“No, we won’t hurt you,” said Trip. He had intricate tattoos around his eyes, like embroidery. Like something she might see in a Masquerade Realm. “I never thought I’d see a Mole.”

“Not alive,” said Rat. “What’re you doing out here, girl?”

Aria’s gaze flicked to the crow man, who’d begun to come forward, moving with total silence. As frightened as she was of Rat and Trip, the crow man scared her more. Rat and Trip went still as he approached.

The crow man stood well over six feet tall. He had to look down to see her. The mask was terrifying, the beak angular and pointed, made of leather that had been pulled and stretched over a frame. The smooth parts were the color of skin, but a dirty inky color stained the creases. She could see his eyes through the holes in the mask. They were blue and clear as glass.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Aria.” She answered because there was no way she couldn’t.

“Where are you heading, Aria?”

“Home.”

“Of course.” The crow man tipped his head to the side. “I’m sorry. This must frighten you.” He removed the mask, letting it hang by a leather cord that he twisted so it fell over his back. He was younger than she expected. Only a few years older than she was, with dark hair and those clear blue eyes. She realized how much calmer she felt now that she could see his face.

He smiled. “That helped, didn’t it? My people bring in the night with ceremony. We use masks to scare off spirits of darkness. My friends aren’t initiated yet, or they’d be wearing them too. I’m called Harris. It’s good to meet you, Aria.”

His voice was a beautiful, smoky baritone. He sent Trip and Rat a pointed look.

“Yes. Good to meet you,” they said, tipping their heads and setting the bells ringing again.

“Bells are another part of our ceremony,” Harris said, following her gaze.

“Ancient cultures used bells,” she said, hating herself for knowing stupid things and for not being able to keep quiet when she was nervous.

“I’ve heard that Tibetans did.”

“Yes. They did.” Aria couldn’t believe he knew that. A Savage who knew more than just digging holes and starting fires. A spark of hope lit inside her. “They believed bells represented the wisdom of emptiness.”

“I’ve known a few people with empty minds, but I wouldn’t call them wise.” Harris smiled, his eyes flicking to Trip. “To us, bells are noises of lightness and good. Are you alone, Aria?”

“No. I’m with an Outsider.”

It was darker now, but by the soft light of the Aether, she saw his eyebrows furrow.

“I meant one of you,” she said, realizing they wouldn’t call themselves Outsiders.

“Ah . . . that’s good. This is dangerous land. I’m sure your companion told you.”

“Yes. He did.”

Trip snorted. “Nearly soiled myself when I heard you sneaking up on us.”

Rat lifted his big nose and sniffed the air. He shoved Trip in the shoulder. “Nearly?”

Harris smiled apologetically. “We have enough food to share and a fire going. Why don’t you and your companion join us tonight? If you think you can put up with these two.”

“I don’t think so. But thank you.” She realized she was gripping the handle of the knife so tight her knuckles throbbed. Why did she have a knife? She lowered it. As frightening as he’d looked with the mask on, Harris seemed friendly now. Far more than her Outsider, whose name she didn’t even know. And Harris talked.

“Well,” she said, reconsidering. “I could see what he says.”

“I say no.”

They all turned sharply toward the voice uphill. It was her Outsider. He was barely visible in the faint light of dusk.

Aria was just going to call out to him when she heard a sound like a wet slap, followed by the ringing of bells. Rat tripped and fell backward. At least, this was what Aria thought until she saw a stick—no, an arrow—lodged in his throat.

She didn’t think. She spun and ran. Trip caught her arm and trapped it, twisting the knife from her fingers. Then he laid the blade on her neck and thrust her arm behind her. Aria gasped at the burst of pain in her shoulder. His stench brought a sickening roll to her stomach.

“Lower your bow or I’ll kill her!” Trip’s voice exploded by her ear.

She saw him now. The Outsider had come closer. He stood by the cave, his legs and arms lined up with his bow, a weapon he had been carrying for days but that somehow she’d forgotten about. He’d taken off his white shirt, and his skin blended into the murky woods.

“Do what he says!” Aria cried. What was he doing? It was too dark. He would hit her instead of Trip.

She saw movement to her left. Harris started up the hill toward the Outsider. He no longer held the staff but a long knife that reflected the Aether light. He drew closer in determined strides. The Outsider kept still as a statue, either not seeing Harris or not caring.

Trip’s panicked breath pumped hot foul air against her cheek. “Lower your bow!” he yelled.

She didn’t see anything this time either, but she knew he’d fired another arrow. Aria heard a pop and then she jolted backward. She tumbled over Trip. Momentum carried her down the slope. Her knee struck something sharp as she hit the ground. She sprang to her feet despite the stab of pain that shot down her leg.

Trip lay twitching on his side, an arrow stuck in the left part of his chest. She turned uphill, terror like a shriek in her ears. She’d seen people wrestle and fence in the Realms. She had some idea of what a true fight might look like. Parrying and deflecting. Footwork and guards. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Harris and the Outsider swept past each other in streaks of movement, one bare-skinned, the other draped in black cloth. She could just make out the flash of a knife or the twisting crow mask. She wanted to run. She didn’t want to see this. But she couldn’t bring herself to move.

It took no more than seconds, though it felt much longer. Their bodies slowed and parted. The cloaked figure, Harris, hit the ground in a black heap. The bare-skinned Outsider stood above him.

Then she saw something roll downhill as if it had been bowled toward her. It hit a bump that shook loose a pale mask, and now she saw clear blue eyes and a nose and white teeth and black hair, tumbling over the dirt and trailing red.

Chapter 16

PEREGRINE

“No, no, no.” Aria shook her head, her eyes were wide with terror. “What just happened?”

Perry skidded over loose gravel as he sprinted downhill to her. “Are you hurt?”

She leaped back. “Stay away from me! Don’t touch me.” Her hand came to her stomach. “What just happened? What did you just do?”

Every scent came to Perry clear and strong on the cool night air. Blood and smoke. Her fear, like ice. And something else. A pungent bitterness. He inhaled, scanning, and saw the source. Dark patches stained the front of her shirt.

“What is that?” he asked.

Her head whipped to the side like she expected to see someone. Perry grabbed a fistful of her shirt. She grazed him with a punch to the chin.

“Hold still!” He trapped her wrist and brought the shirt up, drawing the scent in. He couldn’t believe it. “That’s why you left? You left for those berries?”

Then he saw that she was wearing the device over her eye again. Those men could have taken the eyepiece. Then how would he have gotten Talon back? She pulled out of his grasp.

“You slaughtered them,” she said, her lips trembling. “Look what you did.”

Perry pressed his fist to his mouth and stalked away, not trusting himself to be near her. He’d crossed the Croven’s scent soon after he had left her. Perry knew they were heading toward the shelter of the cave. He’d taken another path, had sprinted to get there first, only to find the cave empty. By the time he’d picked up her trail and followed it, he’d been too late. She had brought him right back to the cave.

Perry rounded on her. “Stupid Dweller. I told you to stay here! You left to pick poisonous berries.”

She shook her head, turning a stunned look from the Croven’s dead body to him. “How could you? They wanted to share their food with us . . . and you just killed them.”

Perry was coming off the rush and beginning to shake. She didn’t know what he had scented from those men. Their ache for her flesh had been so potent it had nearly scored his nostrils. “Fool. You were going to be their food.”

“No . . . no. . . . They didn’t do anything. You just started shooting at them. . . . You did this. You’re worse than the stories, Savage. You’re a monster.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “This is the third time I save your life and that’s what you call me?” He had to get away from her. He jabbed a finger into the dark, pointing east. “Mount Arrow is on the other side of that ridge. Head three hours that way. Let’s see how you do on your own out here, Mole.”

He spun and broke into a run, plunging swiftly into the woods. He pounded his rage into the earth but slowed after a few miles. He wanted to leave her, but he couldn’t. She had the Smarteye. And she was a Mole who lived in fake worlds. What did she know about surviving out here?

He circled back and found her, keeping far enough away that she wouldn’t see him. She had Talon’s knife in her hand. Perry cursed at himself. How had he forgotten that? He watched as she picked through the woods with surprising quiet and care. After a while, he realized she was managing to keep a straight course too. He’d wanted to see her panic. She hadn’t, and that streaked him even more. With only a short distance left to go, he pulled ahead and ran the rest of the way.

It was still dark when he reached the Blackfins compound. Perry caught his breath as he absorbed the shocking scene around him. The compound looked nothing like the bustling settlement he’d seen a year ago. Now, it was crushed. Abandoned. All its scents faded and old. A picked-over carcass at the foot of Mount Arrow.

Aether storms and fires had leveled all but one of the homes, but one was all he needed. There was no door and only part of a roof. He dropped his satchel at the threshold so she’d know where to find him. Then he went inside and sank onto a battered straw mattress. Above him the broken roof’s timbers stuck out like ribs.

Perry dropped his arm over his eyes.

Had he left her too soon?

Had she gotten lost?

Where was she?

Finally he heard faint footsteps. He looked toward the door in time to see her rest her head on his satchel. Then he closed his eyes and slept.

He stepped outside quietly the next morning. Her small camouflage-clad form was curled against the wall, lit by the hazy light of a clouded sky. Aria’s black hair fell over her face, but he could see she’d taken off the device. She held it in her hand like it was one of the rocks she collected. Then he saw her bare feet. Dirty. Wet with blood. Raw flesh showing where the skin had peeled back or fallen off completely. The book covers must have broken after he’d left her.

What had he done?

She stirred, peering at him through her lashes before she sat up against the house. Perry shifted his weight, wondering what to say. He didn’t mull it over long before her temper came at him, bringing him a rush of alarm.

“Aria, what’s wrong?”

She stood, moving slow and defeated. “I’m dying. I’m bleeding.”

Perry’s gaze traveled down her body.

“It’s not my feet.”

“Did you eat any of those berries?”

“No.” She held out her hand. “You might as well have this. Maybe it’ll still help you find the boy you’re looking for.”

Perry closed his eyes and inhaled. Her scent had changed. The rancy Dweller musk was almost gone. Her skin breathed a new scent into the air, faint but unmistakable. For the first time since he’d known her, her flesh smelled like something he recognized, feminine and sweet.

He smelled violets.

He took a step back, swearing silently as it hit him. “You’re not dying. . . . You really don’t know?”

“I don’t know anything anymore.”

Perry looked down at the ground and drew another breath, no doubt in his mind.

“Aria . . . it’s your first blood.”

Chapter 17

ARIA

Since she had been thrown out of Reverie, she’d survived an Aether storm, she’d had a knife held to her throat by a cannibal, and she’d seen men murdered.

This was worse.

Aria didn’t recognize herself. She felt like she’d donned a pseudo-body in a Realm and couldn’t get out of it.

Her mind ran in circles. She was bleeding. Like an animal. Dwellers didn’t menstruate. Procreating happened through genetic design, then a special course of hormones and implantation. Fertility was used strictly when needed. How terrifying to think she could conceive at random.

Maybe the outside air was changing her. Maybe she was breaking down. Malfunctioning. How would she explain this to her mother? What if she couldn’t be fixed and this happened to her again, what, every month?

She’d been prepared for death. Death was to be expected on the outside. A normal consequence of being tossed into the Death Shop. But no matter how she looked at it, menstruating was utterly barbaric. She lay down on the filthy mattress, feeling much the same. Filthy. She closed her eyes, hoping to shut out the horrible outside world. She imagined lying on the white sand of her favorite beach Realm, listening to the soft lapping of the waves as she began to relax.

Aria tried to restart her Smarteye again.

It worked flawlessly.

All her icons were back, exactly where they should be. The icon of Aria strangling herself slid to the center of her screen, flashing a reminder.

SINGING SUNDAY. 11 A.M.

She chose it and fractioned instantly. Swaths of the Opera House’s crimson curtain billowed in front of her. Aria reached out, touching the thick velvet. She’d never seen it move like this, in rolling waves. She stepped forward, feeling through the heavy cloth for the center seam. She felt the curtain shift as it surrounded her. She turned in circles and saw no way out. Panicked, she pushed out her arms, but the material grew coarse as gravel beneath her touch.

Lumina! Aria yelled, but no sound came from her. Mom! she tried again. Where had her voice gone? She grabbed hold of the curtain and pulled with all her strength. It came loose with a lurch and began to spin, turning around her in a funnel, blowing her hair into her eyes and drawing closer with every second. She wouldn’t let herself be swallowed by it. Aria counted to three and dove into the whirling mass.

Instantly she appeared at center stage. Lumina sat in her usual seat in the front row. Why did she seem so far, like she was a mile away? What kind of Realm was this?

Mom? Aria still couldn’t hear her voice. Mom!

“I knew you’d come,” Lumina said, but her smile faded quickly. “Aria, is that another joke?”

A joke? Aria looked down. She was in camouflaged army clothes. Here, in the formal opera hall. No, Mom!

She wanted to tell Lumina what had happened. About Soren and Consul Hess and being thrown out with the Savage. But the words wouldn’t come. Tears of frustration blurred her vision. She looked down, not wanting her mother to see, and noticed a small book in her hands. A libretto. The lyrics of an opera. She didn’t know where she’d gotten it or when. Flowers drawn in ink scrolled across the faded parchment, twining together to form letters.

ARIA

Dread seeped through her. Was this her story? She opened the book and recognized the image inside instantly. A double-helix spiral turned on the page. DNA.

“It’s a gift, Aria.” Lumina smiled. “Aren’t you going to sing, Songbird? No Cannibal Candy this time, please. Though it was certainly amusing.”

Aria wanted to scream. She needed to tell her mother that she was sorry and that she was furious at her and where was she? Where was she? Aria tried again and again, but she couldn’t make a sound. She couldn’t even hear herself breathe.

“I see,” Lumina said. She rose and smoothed down her tailored black dress. “I’d hoped you’d changed your mind. I’ll be here when you’re ready,” she said, and vanished.

Aria blinked at the gilded hall. “Mom?” Her voice startled her. “Mom!” she yelled, but it was too late. For long moments, she stood on the stage, feeling the vastness of the hall, the emptiness of it, as a feeling built in her as if she might explode. She didn’t know when she started screaming. And then she didn’t know how to stop. The sound coming out of her grew louder and louder, like it would never end. The Grand Chandelier began to shake first and then the gilded columns and box seats. And then, at once, the walls and seats shattered, sending gold and plaster and crimson velvet everywhere.

Aria flew upright, gasping, clutching the ratty mattress beneath her. Her Smarteye rested in the palm of her hand, moist with the sweat of her nightmare.

The Outsider strode into the house a moment later. He peered at her suspiciously as he handed her a chunk of meat and then left. Aria ate, too numb to make any sense of what had just happened. She’d dreamed. Now both her body and mind felt foreign.

She heard the Outsider moving through the rubble outside. She sat back and listened to the thud of rocks hitting earth, or clacking sharply as they struck other rocks. Hours had passed when he returned carrying the navy blanket cinched like a sling.

He set it down without a word and spread it out, revealing a pile of odd things. A ring rolled over the fleece before it settled to a stop. She noticed a blue gemstone set into the thick gold band just as he swept it up and dropped it into his satchel. He sat on his heels and cleared his throat.

“I found a few things for you. . . . A coat. It’s made of wolf fur. It’ll get colder as we move farther up the mountain so it’ll keep you warmer.” He glanced at her, then back at the pile. “Those boots are in fair shape. A touch big but they should work. The cloths are clean. Boiled.” A fleeting smile crossed his lips, though his eyes remained downcast. “They’re for . . . whatever you want to do with them. There are a few other things. I brought what I could find.”

She looked at the random assortment, emotion sticking like glue in her throat. A ragged old leather coat with holes she could poke her fingers through but lined with thick silvery fur. A black knitted cap with a few feathers slipped into the woven wool. A piece of leather with a buckle that looked like it had once been a horse bridle but would serve better as a belt than the gauze she used now. He’d spent hours locating these things. Digging them up, as he had their water and the thistle roots. Like most things needed to be on the outside.

“What you said about my Markings . . . my tattoos,” he continued. “You were on the right track.” He looked up, meeting her eyes. “I’m called Peregrine. Like the falcon. People call me Perry.”

He had a name. Peregrine. Perry. New information to consider. Did it suit him? Did it mean something? But Aria found she couldn’t even look at him. A Savage had needed to explain to her that she was menstruating. She bit into her raw inner lip and tasted blood. Her eyes blurred. She had never thought so much about blood before. Now she couldn’t get away from it.

“Why did you do this?” she asked. “Find all this stuff for me?” Pity. It had to be out of pity that he’d gathered all of this and told her his name.

“You needed it.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his head. Then he sat down, propping his long arms over his knees and lacing his fingers together. “You thought you were dying this morning. But you brought me the eyepiece anyway. You were going to give it to me of your own will.”

Aria picked up a rock. She’d developed a habit of lining them up. By color. By size. By shape. Making sense of the randomness she’d admired at first. Now she just looked at the conglomerate chunk in her hand, wondering why she’d ever bothered pocketing such an ugly mixed-up thing.

She didn’t know if she’d brought the Smarteye back to be noble, exactly. Maybe so. But maybe she’d done it because she knew he’d been right about the cannibals. And she owed him for saving her life. Three times.

“Thank you.” She didn’t sound very grateful and wished she had. She knew she needed these things, and needed his help. But she didn’t want to need anything.

He nodded, accepting her thanks.

They fell into silence. The Aether light seeped down into the decrepit house, washing away the shadows. As tired as she was, her senses filled with the chill of the air against her face. With the weight of the rock resting in her hand and the dusty smell he’d brought in with him. Aria heard her own breathing and felt the quiet power of his attention. She felt completely where she was. There with him. With herself.

She’d never felt anything like it.

“My people celebrate the first blood,” he said after a moment, his voice soft and deep. “The women in the tribe prepare a feast. They bring gifts to the girl—woman. They stay with her that night, all the women in one house. And . . . I don’t know what happens after that. My sister says they tell stories, but I don’t know what they are. I think they explain the meaning of it . . . of the change you’re going through.”

Aria’s cheeks went hot. She didn’t want to change. She wanted to go home perfectly preserved. “What meaning can there be? Seems like a horrible thing no matter how you look at it.”

“You can bear children now.”

“That’s completely primitive! Children are special where I come from. They’re created carefully, each one. It’s not a random experiment. There’s so much thought that goes into every person. You have no idea.”

Too late, she remembered that he was trying to rescue a boy. Making her shoes. Murdering three men. Saving her life. The Outsider had done it all for the boy. Obviously children were cherished here as well, but she couldn’t take the words back.

She wasn’t sure why she cared. He was a killer. Scarred. Covered with signs of violence. What did it matter that she’d been insensitive to a murderer?

“You’ve killed before, haven’t you?” She already knew the answer. Still, she wanted to hear him tell her no. Tell her something that would take away the queasy feeling she got every time she remembered what he’d done to those three men.

He didn’t answer. He never answered, and she was tired of it. Sick of his quiet, watchful eyes. “How many men have you killed? Ten? Twenty? Do you keep some sort of count?” Aria had raised her voice to let some of the poison out. He rose and moved to the threshold, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.

“If you do, you shouldn’t add Soren. You didn’t kill him, though I know you tried. You shattered his jaw. Shattered it! But maybe Bane and Echo and Paisley brought your numbers up.”

He spoke through a clenched jaw. “Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been there that night? And yesterday?”

She did. And here it was. The fear she’d pressed back. Of those men, who’d seemed friendly but who ate human flesh. Of the terrible hours she’d spent running alone, searching for glimpses of Mount Arrow, hoping she was headed the right way in the dark. She was lashing out recklessly but she knew the true source of her anger. She didn’t trust her own judgment anymore. What did she know out here? Even berries might kill her.

“So what!” she yelled, scrambling to her feet. “So what if you saved my life! You left! And do you really think it makes you a good person? Saving one person when you kill three others? And bringing these things for me? Saying things, like it’s an honor what’s happening to me? It’s not an honor! This shouldn’t happen. I’m not an animal! I haven’t forgotten what you did to those men. I won’t forget.”

He laughed bitterly. “If it makes you feel better, I won’t forget either.”

“You have a conscience? That’s touching. My mistake. I had you figured wrong.”

He crossed the distance between them in a flash. Aria found herself looking up, right into furious green eyes. “You know nothing about me.”

She knew his hand was on the knife at his hip. Aria’s heart pounded so hard she could hear it drumming in her ears. “You would’ve already done it. You don’t hurt women.”

“You’re wrong there, Mole. I have killed a woman before. Keep talking. You might be the second.”

A choked sob burst through her lips. He was telling the truth.

He turned his back on her and stood there a moment. “The Croven will retaliate,” he said. “If you’re coming, we travel now. In the dark.”

After he left, she stood breathing hard for a few moments, absorbing what had just happened. What she’d said, and what he’d admitted to. She didn’t want to think of what cannibals did to retaliate, or of the Outsider taking a woman’s life.

Aria looked down at the navy blanket. She stared at it as her breath calmed and the urge to scream and cry receded.

Boots. At least she had boots now.

Chapter 18

PEREGRINE

They kept a good pace despite traveling at night. They needed to. Three slain Croven would bring out their tribesmen in search of revenge. The Croven would surely have a Scire among them who’d latch on to Perry’s scent. It was only a matter of time before they came after him in their black cloaks and masks.

Perry had committed the greatest possible wrong against the Croven, who believed they brought the spirits of the dead into themselves by eating flesh. By leaving those three men out for scavenging animals, he would be seen as a murderer not of men but of eternal souls. The Croven wouldn’t stop in their quest for vengeance until they found him. He should have burned the bodies or buried them, both of which could’ve bought him time. He glanced at Aria, walking ten paces away from him. He should have done a few things differently.

She met his eyes for an instant before looking away. Beast, she’d called him. Monster. Her temper told him she felt the same way toward him now. He’d lost his mind, hearing those things. Scenting her reaction to what he’d done. To what he’d had to do, because of her. He didn’t need anyone telling him what he was. He knew. He’d known what he was since the day he was born.

The air became cool and sharp as they climbed into the mountain. As the pine forest grew thicker, Perry saw the power of his Sense diminish. Pine blasted his nose, shrouding subtler scents and stunting his range. He knew he’d adapt in time but it worried him, not having his ability at its strongest. They were well into the borderlands now. He needed both his Senses at their best to steer clear of the Croven and other dispersed who hid out in these woods.

Perry spent the morning adjusting to the change and searching for game trails. He’d shared a lean little rabbit he had caught with Aria yesterday, along with some more roots he’d dug up, but his stomach still growled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d filled it.

Thoughts of Talon grabbed hold of him. What was his nephew doing now? Were his legs bothering him? Did he hate Perry for what had happened? He knew he was avoiding tougher questions. Things too painful to even consider. That maybe Talon hadn’t survived. To think that way would’ve laid him out for good. Nothing would matter if that were so.

They took a short rest at midday. Aria leaned against a tree. She looked drawn, the skin beneath her eyes pale purple. Even tired she had a face made to be looked at. Finespun. Delicate. Beautiful. Perry shook his head, surprised by his own thoughts.

Late in the afternoon, they stopped for a drink by a creek that cut a lazy, winding path through a ravine. Perry washed his face and hands, then drank deeply from the icy water. Aria stayed where she’d dropped along the bank.

“Is it your feet?”

Her eyes turned to him. “I’m hungry.”

He nodded. He was hungry too. “I’ll find us something.”

“I don’t want your food. I don’t want anything else from you.”

Bitter words but her temper, sluggish and dank, spoke of deep despair. Perry watched her for a moment. He understood. This, at least, wasn’t about him. He wouldn’t want to ask to eat every time his stomach felt empty either.

They walked on, following the creek up the mountain. This was decent land, kept green by snowmelt. Too hilly for farming, but the hunting would be better than at home. He searched for animal scents, hoping to find anything but the musk of wolves. With night a few hours off, he knew they’d have to rest soon and eat, too. Just as he was growing frustrated with his pine-fettered nose, he crossed a sweet scent that set his mouth watering.

“Rest for a bit.” He jogged off a couple of paces. “I’ll be right back.”

Aria sat right away and shrugged. He waited, expecting her to say something. Wanting her to, but she didn’t say a word.

He came back a few moments later and knelt in front of her on the gravelly bank. With the pine trees towering over them, it was growing dark already, though night was still a good hour off. Behind him the creek gurgled softly. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the leafy branch in his hand, spotted with dark red berries.

“What are you doing?”

“Teaching you so you can find your own food,” he said, looking down at the branch, wondering if she’d laugh at him in the next moment and call him a Savage. “Soon you’ll recognize what’s safe to eat by knowing where things grow, and recognizing the shapes of the leaves. Until then, the first thing is to crush a small piece and smell it.”

He peered at her. She sat up, looking more alert. Relieved, he plucked a berry and handed it to her. “If it smells nutty and bitter, don’t eat it.”

Aria broke it open, dipped her head to sniff it. “It doesn’t smell like either.”

“Good. That’s right.” The blackberry, a lucky find buried in a patch of brambles, smelled sweet and ripe. Perry could scent it perfectly. This close, he also caught Aria’s scent again. Violets. A scent he could never get enough of. And then there was her temper, clear and strong. For the first time today, it wasn’t full of anger or repulsion. The tone that came off of her was bright and alert, like mint.

“Look at the color next. If the berry’s white or has white inside, it’s safer to toss it.”

She examined the berry. He could see her mind working, memorizing the information. “This looks dark red.”

“Yeah. So far, it’s looking good. Next you’d want to rub it on your skin. Tender skin is best.” He went to take her hand and remembered how she hated being touched. “The inside of your arm. Right here.” He showed her where on his own arm.

She drew the berry over the inside of her wrist. It left a smooth line of juice on her skin. Perry frowned at the stumble in his heartbeat, then made himself not frown.

“So, you’d want to wait a while. If you didn’t see a rash creeping on, you’d put a bit on your lip.”

He watched as she pressed the berry to her lower lip. He kept looking at her mouth after she’d done it. He knew he should look away, but he couldn’t. “Right. Good. If there’s no stinging, you’d put it to your tongue.”

Perry shot to his feet before he finished the words, nearly tripping over himself. He ran a hand over his head, feeling skitty, like he needed to laugh or run or do something. He picked up a stone and tossed it into the creek, trying to get the image of her tasting the berry out of his mind. Trying to keep from pumping her scent into his nose like he wanted to.

“Is that it?” she asked.

“What? No.” All he could think about was the way she’d looked the night of the Aether storm. The curves of her bare skin, pressed at his side. “You’d swallow a small amount and wait a few hours, see how it sits. Now you know how to find berries. We need to pull foot.”

He crossed his arms and stood there, still unsure what to do. He knew he was giving her a strange look. He felt strange. He felt a lot of strange. He hadn’t seen her as a girl before now. He’d seen her as a Mole. Now he couldn’t stop seeing all the girl about her.

Aria gave him the same look right back—eyebrows drawn down, mouth twisted to the side, a mixy, strained look—mocking him.

Perry laughed. A ripple ran through his shoulders at the feeling of laughing. When was the last time someone had joked with him? The answer came easily. He’d been with Talon.

“So is this one good?” she asked, holding up the berry.

“Yeah. It’s good.”

She popped it into her mouth and swallowed. Then she smiled, extending the branch out to him.

“Go ahead,” he said, and set to tightening the string on his bow.

When she was finished, she looked over and smiled. “Seems easier if I just find them and ask you whether they’re edible or not. Faster than the rubbing and tasting process.”

“Sure,” he said, feeling like a fool. “That would work too.”

Chapter 19
ARIA

They decided to take turns sleeping, right there by the creek. She was supposed to take her turn first, but when she lay down, she couldn’t keep her eyes closed. Dreams were unsettling things, and she wasn’t up for another one just yet. So she sat, shivering despite her thick coat and the blue blanket wrapped around her. The Aether moved in thin sheets, slow and wispy as the clouds. Gusts rustled through the pine needles, setting branches swaying around her. There were people who lived in trees and cannibals who dressed as crows out here.

Yesterday she’d seen them both.

“How far away is Marron’s?” she asked.

“Three days or so,” Peregrine said. He held the small knife with the carved feathers, twirling it absently. Spinning it once. Catching the handle. Spinning it. Catching it.

Peregrine or Perry? She didn’t know what to call him. Perry made her shoes from book covers and taught her how to find berries. Peregrine had tattoos and flashing green eyes. He twirled a knife without fear of cutting himself and put arrows through people’s necks. She’d seen him decapitate a man. But then, the man had been a cannibal who’d been after her. Aria sighed, her breath fogging lightly in the cool air. She wasn’t sure what she thought of him anymore.

“Will we get there in time?” she asked.

His lips turned up like he’d been expecting the question. “The Croven aren’t close, as far as I can tell.”

It wasn’t the exact answer she’d wanted, but good to hear nonetheless. “Who is he—Marron?”

“A friend. A trader. A ruler. A bit of everything.” His eyes dropped to her shaking shoulders. “Can’t have a fire.”

“Because someone would see the smoke?”

He nodded. “Or scent it.”

She looked at his restless hands. “You don’t sit still much, do you?”

He slid the knife through a leather strap at his boot. “Being still makes me tired.”

That made no sense, but she wasn’t going to ask and risk upsetting what felt like a fragile truce.

He crossed his arms and then uncrossed them. “How do you feel?”

A tingle ran down her back. This was so strange. Him, asking her this. Far more intimate than it should have felt. Because she knew he wanted to know. He didn’t ask empty questions or waste words.

“I want to go home.”

It was a weak answer and she knew it, but how could she explain? Her body was changing, and it wasn’t just that she was menstruating. Her senses were filled with the trickle of the creek and the smell of pine in the air. Her whole awareness was shifting. Like every cell in her body was stretching its arms and yawning off sleep. Sure, she ached in her feet. And she still had the headaches and a dull pain low in her stomach. Yet in spite of all her ailments, she didn’t feel like a girl whose life was slipping away.

Perry stood. Perry, she realized. Not Peregrine. It seemed her subconscious had decided what to make of him. She unwrapped herself from the blanket, her muscles aching and reluctant to move again. They might as well walk, she supposed, if they weren’t going to sleep. Then she noticed the way Perry stared into the darkness.

“What is it?” she asked, shooting to her feet. “Is it the Croven?”

He shook his head, still gazing into the woods. Perry cupped his hands around his mouth. “Roar!”

The sound of his raised voice made her heart stop.

“Roar, you rancy bastard! I know you’re out there! I can smell you from here!”

A moment later, a whistle broke into the air, echoing through the mountain pass.

Perry looked down at her, a striking grin on his face. “Our luck just turned.”

He devoured the hillside in big, loping strides. Aria ran to keep up, her heart racing faster than her feet. At the top, they reached an outcropping of boulders that looked blue in the failing light, like whales breeching from the sea. A dark figure stood there, his arms crossed over his chest as though he’d been waiting. Perry tore over to him. Aria watched as they locked into a fierce embrace, then began to shove at each other playfully.

She picked her way closer, taking in this new Outsider. Everything about him looked refined under the cool light. His lean build and sharp features. The cut of his dark hair. He wore fitted clothes. Black from head to toe, with no frayed edges or holes that she could see. This was someone she could easily see in the Realms. Polished and too handsome to be real.

“Who’s this?” he asked, seeing her.

“I’m Aria,” she answered. “Who are you?”

“Hello, Aria. I’m Roar. Do you sing?”

It was a surprising question, but she answered on reflex. “Yes, I do.”

“Excellent.” Up close, she saw the gleam in Roar’s gaze. He had a prince’s looks but a pirate’s eyes. Roar smiled, an appealing, clever flash. Aria laughed. Definitely more pirate. Roar laughed at her laugh, and she decided on the spot she liked him.

He looked back at Perry. “Have I gone dull, Per, or is she a Dweller?”

“Long story.”

“Perfect.” Roar rubbed his palms together. “We’ll settle into a few bottles of Luster. Long stories are the best sort for cold nights.”

“How’d you come up with Luster out here?” Perry asked.

“Swoggled a bottle a couple of days ago, along with enough bread and cheese to keep us from starving. Let’s celebrate. With you here, it won’t be long before we find Liv.”

Perry’s smile vanished. “Find Liv? She’s not with the Horns?”

Roar cursed. “Perry, I thought you knew. She ran! I sent word to Vale. I thought you’d come to help find her.”

“No.” Perry closed his eyes and tipped his head up, the muscles in his neck tight with anger. “We never got word. You stayed with her, right?”

“Of course I did, but you know Liv. She does what she wants.”

“She can’t,” Perry said. “Liv can’t do what she wants. How will the Tides survive the winter?”

“I don’t know. I’ve got my own reasons for being streaked about what she’s done.”

A dozen different questions cropped up in Aria’s mind. Who was Liv? What was she running from? She remembered the gold ring with the blue stone that Perry had stashed away. Was the ring for her? She was curious, but it seemed too personal to pry.

Roar and Perry set to work building a screen with leafy branches to form a bulwark against the wind. Whatever had happened with the girl, Liv, had left them quiet. They worked quickly together despite their silence, like they’d done this sort of thing a hundred times. Aria copied the way they wove the branches together and found that for her first-ever screen, she did a respectable job.

They couldn’t have a fire, but Roar produced a candle that gave them a flickering light to gather around. Aria had just begun devouring the bread and cheese Roar brought out when she heard the snap of a twig. It sounded close in the quiet. She turned, seeing only the screen of pine branches as she heard footsteps scuttling off in retreat.

“What was that?” She’d just started to relax. Now her heart was pounding again.

Perry bit into a piece of hard bread. “Your friend have a name, Roar?”

Aria scowled at him. How could he dismiss this lurking stranger after what they’d been through with the cannibals?

Roar didn’t answer right away. He stared off like he was still listening for movement. Then he unstopped a black bottle and took a long drink, settling back against his bag. “It’s a kid, and he’s more a pest than a friend. His name is Cinder. I found him sleeping right in the middle of the woods about a week ago. No thought to being seen or sniffed out by wolves. I should’ve let him be, but he’s young . . . thirteen maybe . . . and he’s in bad shape. I gave him some food and he’s been trailing me since.”

Aria peered at the pine screen again. She’d gotten a taste of being alone out there the night Perry had left her behind. Those hours had been filled with nothing but fear. She couldn’t imagine a boy living like that.

“What tribe’s he from?” Perry asked.

Roar took another drink before he answered. “I don’t know. He has the look of a northerner.” He glanced her way. Did she look like she was from the north? “But I couldn’t get it out of him. Wherever he’s from, believe me, I’d love to send him back. He’ll show up. He always does when his hunger gets the better of him. But don’t expect much from his company.”

Roar handed her the black bottle. “It’s called Luster. You’ll like it, trust me,” he said with a wink.

“You don’t look very trustworthy.”

“Looks can be misleading. I’m reliable to the core.”

Perry grinned. “I’ve known him his whole life. He’s full of something else to the core.”

Aria froze. She’d seen a glimpse of Perry’s smile earlier when he’d heard Roar, but now she saw it in full, directed completely at her. It was lopsided and punctuated by canines that couldn’t be ignored, but it was this fierce quality that made it so disarming. Like seeing a lion smile.

She suddenly felt like she was staring at him. She took a hasty drink from the bottle. Aria sputtered into her sleeve as the Luster rolled down her throat like lava, spreading heat across her chest. It tasted like spiced honey, thick and sweet and pungent.

“What do you think?” Roar asked.

“It’s like drinking a campfire, but it’s good.” She couldn’t look at Perry. She took another drink, hoping this one would go down without all the hacking. Another wave of fire seeped through her, heating her cheeks and settling warm in her stomach.

“You going to keep it all to yourself?” Perry asked.

“Oh. Sorry.” She handed it to him, her face growing hotter.

“How’s Talon?” Roar asked. “And Mila? She and Vale have any luck making Talon a brother?” His voice held a hint of wariness beneath the lighthearted words.

Perry sighed and set the bottle down. He ran a hand over his hair. “Mila got worse after you left. She died a few weeks ago.” He looked at Aria. “Mila is . . . was my brother Vale’s wife. Their son is named Talon. He’s seven.”

Blood rushed in Aria’s ears as she put the information together. This was the boy taken by her people. Perry was trying to rescue his nephew.

“I didn’t know,” Roar said. “Vale and Talon must be in hell.”

“Vale is.” Perry cleared his throat. “Talon’s gone. I lost him, Roar.” He brought his knees up and bowed his head, lacing his fingers behind his neck.

Even by the soft candlelight, Aria saw the color drain from Roar’s face. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

Perry’s wide shoulders drew together like he was containing something vast, keeping it trapped inside him. When he looked up, his eyes were glazed and red. In a hoarse voice, he told them a story Aria had been part of but had never heard. Of how he’d come into her world for medicines, to help a sick boy. A boy who’d been kidnapped by her people. He told Roar about their deal. Once Marron fixed her Smarteye, she’d reach her mother. He’d get Talon back and Lumina would bring Aria into Bliss.

They sat in silence after he’d finished. Aria heard only the stir of leaves when a breeze swept past. Then Roar spoke.

“I’m in. We’ll find them, Perry. Both Talon and Liv.”

Aria turned her face toward the shadows. She wished Paisley was there. She missed having her friend at her side.

Roar muttered a soft curse. “Prepare yourselves. Cinder’s back.”

A few moments later, the screen of leaves rustled then parted. A boy stood in the gap, his eyes dark and feral. He was shockingly thin. No more than a skeleton in filthy baggy clothes. He had fair skin. Nearly as fair as hers, Aria realized.

Cinder dropped beside her with a thump and leered at her through matted strands of dirty blond hair. His shirt hung so loose that Aria could see the way his collarbones stuck out like sticks.

Cinder’s gaze roamed over her face. His eyes were half-lidded with fatigue. “What are you doing out here, Dweller?” he asked suspiciously.

He sat too close. Aria scooted back. “I’m on my way home. To my mother.”

“Where’s she?”

“In Bliss. It’s one of our Pods.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I didn’t leave. I was thrown out.”

“You were thrown out but you want to go back? That’s barmy, Dweller.”

She guessed by Cinder’s expression that barmy meant something close to crazy. “I guess, when you put it like that.”

Roar tossed a piece of bread onto the ground. “Take it and be gone, Cinder.”

“It’s all right,” Aria said. Cinder might lack manners, but it was a cold night and where would he go? Out there by himself? “He can stay. It’s fine with me.”

Cinder picked up the bread and bit off a piece. “She wants me to stay, Roar.”

Aria could see his jawbone moving up and down as he chewed. “My name is Aria.”

“She even told me her name,” Cinder said. “She likes me.”

“Not for long,” Roar muttered.

Cinder looked at her, gnashing at the bread with his mouth open. Aria looked away. He was being crude on purpose.

“You’re right,” he said. “I think she already changed her mind.”

“Shut your mouth, Cinder.”

“How am I supposed to eat?”

Roar sat up. “That’s enough.”

Cinder’s smile was full of challenge. “What are you going to do? Stop feeding me? You want this back?” He held the half-eaten bread out. “Take it, Roar. I don’t want it anymore.”

Perry reached out and plucked the bread from his hand.

Cinder turned a stunned look on him. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You didn’t want it.” Perry brought the bread to his mouth. He stopped with it inches from his lips. “Did you? Or were you lying?” His eyes gleamed in the dark. “If you tell them you’re sorry, I’ll give it back.”

Cinder snorted. “I’m not sorry.”

The corner of Perry’s mouth lifted into a smile. “You’re still lying.”

Cinder suddenly looked panicked, his eyes darting to her and then Roar and finally back to Perry. He scrambled to his feet. “Stay away from me, Scire!” He grabbed the bread out of Perry’s hand and barreled through the gap in the screen.

A cool feeling crept up Aria’s neck as the sounds of Cinder’s getaway faded. “What just happened? Why did he call you ‘Scire’?”

Roar’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Perry . . . she doesn’t know?”

Perry shook his head.

“What don’t I know?”

He looked up at the night sky, avoiding her gaze, and took a deep breath. “Some of us are Marked,” he said softly. “That’s what the bands on my arms are. Markings. They show that we have a dominant Sense. Roar is an Aud. He can hear things more clearly and from farther away. Sometimes miles off.”

Roar gave her an apologetic shrug.

“What about you?”

“I have two Senses. I’m a Seer. Night-Sighted. I can see in the dark.”

He saw in the dark. She should have known with his reflective eyes. With the way he never stumbled at night. “And the other?”

He looked right at her, his gaze brilliant green. “I have a strong sense of smell.”

“You have a strong sense of smell.” Aria tried to process what this meant. “How strong?”

“Very. I can scent tempers.”

“Tempers?”

“They’re emotions . . . impulses.”

“You can scent people’s feelings?” She could hear her voice rising.

“Yes.”

“How often?” she asked. She’d started to tremble.

“Always, Aria. I can’t avoid it. I can’t stop breathing.”

Aria went cold everywhere. Instantly. Like she’d just taken a plunge in the ocean. She shot through the path Cinder had cleared, diving into the darkened woods. Perry came right behind her, calling her name and asking her to stop. Aria spun.

“You’ve been doing that all this time? You’ve known how I’ve felt? Have I entertained you? Has my misery amused you? Is that why you kept it to yourself?”

He pushed his hands into his hair. “Do you know how many times you’ve called me a Savage? You think I wanted to tell you I can smell better than a wolf?”

Aria’s hand shot up, covering her mouth. He could smell better than a wolf.

She thought of all the horrible feelings she’d had over the past days. Days she spent with that pathetic, sad melody going round and round in her mind. The shame she felt at menstruating. Of being terrified, a stranger in her own skin.

Was he smelling the way she felt right now?

He tipped his head to the side. “Aria, don’t be embarrassed.”

He was. He did know.

She backed away, but his hand closed around her wrist. “Don’t go. It’s not safe. You know what’s out there.”

“Let go of me.”

“Perry,” said a smooth voice. “I’ll stay with her.”

Perry looked down at her, frustration plain on his face. Then he let go of her arm and stalked off, branches snapping in his wake.

“You can cry if you like,” Roar said when Perry was gone. He crossed his arms. In the darkness, she could just make out the glint of the black bottle of Luster propped on his elbow. “I’ll even offer up my shoulder to the cause.”

“No, I don’t want to cry. I want to hurt him.”

Roar laughed softly. “I knew I liked you.”

“He should have told me.”

“Probably, but what he said is true. He can’t help knowing tempers. And would it have changed your agreement?”

Aria shook her head. It wouldn’t. Before long, she knew she’d be back to walking endless miles with him.

She sat against a tree and picked up a pine needle, breaking it into tiny pieces. It seemed obvious once she thought it out. Basic genetics. The population of Outsiders was small. Any shifts had the possibility of running rampant in such a limited pool. A drop of ink in a bucket was more potent than a drop in a lake. And with the Aether accelerating mutations, the Unity had created an environment ripe for genetic jumps.

“I can’t believe this,” she said. “You’re a subspecies. Is there anything else? Are there any other traits that have drifted? Like . . . like your teeth?”

Roar sat beside her against the same large trunk. He wasn’t as tall as Perry, she noticed. Aether light fell across the smooth planes of his profile, all straight lines and perfect proportions. He didn’t have scruff over his jaw like Perry, either.

“No,” Roar said. “Our teeth are all the same. Yours are the ones that are different.”

Aria pressed her lips together on reflex. It hadn’t occurred to her before, but he was right. Before the Unity, teeth had been uneven. Roar smiled and kept talking.

“There are some differences between the Senses. Scires tend to be tall. They’re the rarest Marked. Seers are the most common. Seers are good at looking and good-looking, but before you start wondering, no, I’m not a Seer. Just lucky.”

Aria smiled despite herself. She was surprised by how at ease she felt in his company. “What about your kind?”

“Auds?” He flashed a mischievous grin at her. “We’re said to be sly.”

“I could’ve guessed that.” She looked down at his bicep, imagining the tattoo hidden beneath his dark shirt. “How well can you hear?”

“Better than anyone I know.”

“Can you hear emotions?”

“No. But I can hear a person’s thoughts when I touch them. That’s just me, not all Auds. And don’t worry, I won’t touch you. Unless you want me to.”

She smiled. “I’ll let you know.” This was unreal. There were people who could smell emotion and hear thoughts. What was next? Aria cupped her hands, blowing warmth into them. “How can you be friends with him, knowing he . . . knows everything?”

Roar laughed. “Please don’t ever say that in front of him. He’s cocksure enough as it is.” He tilted the bottle and drank. “Perry and I grew up together, along with his sister. When you know someone that well, it’s something like being a Scire.”

She supposed it was true. She’d been sensitive to some of Paisley’s moods. Caleb’s too. “But it feels . . . imbalanced. He never talks but he gets to know what other people are feeling?”

“He’s quiet because he’s scenting tempers. Perry doesn’t trust words. He’s told me before how often people lie. Why would he bother listening to false words when he can breathe and get right at the truth?”

“Because people are more than emotions. People have thoughts and reasons for doing things.”

“Yes, well. It’s hard to follow a person’s logic if you don’t know how they feel. And you’re wrong. Perry does talk. Watch him. You’ll see he says plenty.”

She knew this. For days she’d been translating his actions into meaning. Noticing how he walked in a dozen different ways. With utter quiet. With barely contained violence. With easy animal grace.

“What about his sister?” she asked.

“Olivia,” Roar said, and then added more softly, “Liv.”

“Is she a Scire also?” Aria didn’t even like the word. It sounded like a warped version of scare.

“As strong as Perry if not more. We never could decide who has the keener nose.”

“What happened to her, Roar?”

“She was betrothed to someone else. Someone who wasn’t me.”

“Oh.” Roar was in love with Perry’s sister. She sucked on her bottom lip, tasting the sweetness of the Luster. She didn’t want to be forward and ask too many questions, but she was curious. And Roar didn’t seem to mind. “Why not you?”

“She’s a strong Scire. She’s too valuable. . . .” Roar stared at the bottle in his hand like he was searching for the right explanation. “Blood is our currency. As Marked, we make the most skilled hunters and fighters. We overhear plans for raids and sense shifts in the Aether. Blood Lords surround themselves with people like me and Perry and Liv. When it comes to mating, they choose the strongest of their kind. If they don’t, they risk losing the Sense. Some say they risk worse.”

Aria had a hard time with how casually he’d said mating. “Couldn’t a child get two Senses with different parents? Is that what happened with Perry?”

“Yes. But it’s rare. What Perry is . . . it’s very rare.” After a pause, he added, “It’s best you don’t ever mention his parents.”

She slipped her hands into the sleeves of her coat, digging her fingers into the fur. What had happened to Perry’s parents?

“So as a Scire, Liv has to marry a Scire?” she asked instead.

“Yes. It’s what’s expected.” Roar shifted against the trunk. “Seven months ago, Vale promised her to Sable, the Blood Lord of the Horns. They’re a large tribe to the north. Ice-cold people, Sable the coldest of the lot. Vale was to receive food for the Tides in exchange for her. Half of which they may never get.”

“Because she didn’t go.”

“That’s right. Liv ran. She disappeared the night before we’d have crossed into Horn territory. It was exactly what I had wanted us to do together. I’d been thinking about it the whole way there. She left before I could ask.” Roar paused and cleared his throat. “I’ve been searching for her since. I’ve come close to finding her. A few weeks ago, I heard a couple of traders speaking of a girl who could track game better than any man. They’d met her in Lone Tree. I’m sure it was her. Liv’s not one you easily forget.”

“Why?”

“She’s tall—barely shorter than me. And she has the same hair as Perry, only longer. That alone is enough to draw attention, but she has this quality. . . . You watch her because just that will fascinate you.”

“They sound very alike.” Aria couldn’t believe she’d said that aloud. It had to be the effect of the Luster, loosening her tongue.

White teeth appeared in the dark. “They are, but thankfully not in every way.”

“Did you go to Lone Tree?”

“I did. By the time I got there, she was long gone.”

Aria let out a slow breath. Though she felt sorry for Roar, this was exactly what she’d needed. A break from her own mind and body. A chance to forget for a few moments about fixing the Smarteye and reaching Lumina. She had the urge to reach for Roar’s hand. She would have, if they’d been in the Realms. Instead she dug her fingers deeper into the fur of her sleeves.

“What are you going to do, Roar?” she asked.

“What can I do but keep looking?”

Chapter 20

PEREGRINE

Having Roar along changed everything. They walked through the morning and though Perry hadn’t caught any traces of the Croven, he knew they weren’t clear of danger. It worried him that they hadn’t been confronted yet, but with Roar’s help, they could make better time to Marron’s. Whatever signs of danger Perry missed with his pine-dulled nose, Roar would catch with his ears.

Aria hadn’t spoken to him since he’d told her about his Senses. She’d been hanging back all morning, walking with Roar. Perry had strained to hear what they were saying. Even found himself wishing he was an Aud. That had been a first. When Perry heard her laugh at something Roar said, he’d decided he’d heard enough and pulled out of earshot. In the span of a few hours, Roar had spoken with her more than he had in days.

Cinder kept his distance, but Perry knew he was there. The kid was so weak that he walked in noisy, dragging steps. It didn’t take being an Aud to hear him shuffling in the woods behind them. Something about the boy’s scent had set the back of Perry’s nose thrumming last night. It stung, just as it did when the Aether became agitated, but when Perry had looked up, he hadn’t seen the sky churning. Just the wispy streaks that still held above. He wondered if the Luster had muddled him, or if it’d just been the pine messing with his Sense.

He hadn’t had any trouble picking up the boy’s temper, though. Cinder’s wrathy attitude might throw Roar and Aria off, but Perry knew the truth. The icy fog of fear clung to him. Roar had guessed him to be thirteen, but Perry put him at least a year younger. Why was he on his own? Whatever the reason, Perry knew it couldn’t be good.

Around midday he picked up a boar’s trail, the animal’s smell strong enough to cut through his stunted nose. He headed downhill, then he told Roar the best path for driving the animal to where he waited.

They had hunted this way their whole lives. Roar could hear Perry’s directions clearly from that far, but it was more complicated for Roar to communicate with him. Mimicking natural sounds came easily to Auds, so over the years they had adapted the calls of birds, turning it into a language between them.

Perry heard Roar’s whistle now, alerting him. Be ready. He’s coming.

Perry got a shot right into the boar’s neck and then another into its heart after it fell. As he knelt and retrieved his arrows, it struck him that this was the purest use of his abilities. He’d missed the rush of doing something simple and doing it well. But his satisfaction didn’t last. As soon as Roar jogged up, Perry knew something was off.

Roar was normally a real rooster after they made a kill together, showing off and claiming he’d done all the work. Now he glanced at the boar and then closed his eyes. Angled his head in quick, sharp movements. Perry knew what was coming before he spoke.

“The Croven, Perry. A whole piss barrel of them.”

“How far?”

“Hard to tell. Seven miles or so on the wind.”

“Could be more on land, most of it hill.”

Roar nodded. “We’re looking at half a day’s lead at best.”

Perry cut the boar into strips and seared them over a fire. The Aether had roused, flowing in agitated rivers. Setting off the sting in the back of his nose. A storm would complicate things. He ate with Aria and Roar, the three of them hardly bothering to chew the meat. They’d need the strength of a meal in their stomachs to outrun the Croven. Marron’s compound was still two days away, and he knew they couldn’t stop until they reached it.

He built up the fire before they set off, adding a stack of green wood. Smoke would help mask their scents for a while. Then he staked a cut of meat he’d set aside with a stick and told Aria and Roar he’d catch up.

He found Cinder curled against the root of a tree. Dappled light shifted across the boy’s dirty face as he twitched in fitful sleep. He looked smaller. More frail without the sneering look on his face. Perry pinched the bridge of his nose as the stinging sensation flared. “Cinder.”

He shot up, disoriented, blinking and rubbing at his eyes. When he finally focused on Perry, panic flashed across his face.

“Leave me alone, Scire.”

“Steady,” Perry said. “It’s all right.” He held the stick out. Cinder glanced at it, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He wouldn’t take it, so Perry wedged the stick into the ground. He backed away a few steps. “It’s yours.”

Cinder snatched it up and sank his teeth into the meat, ripping at it in a fury. Perry’s gut clenched at the desperation in the boy’s face. This was nothing like the meal he’d just rushed through with Aria and Roar. This was true hunger. Fierce as any fight for life. Perry remembered Cinder gnawing at the bread rudely last night. He realized the boy had just been hiding the depth of his need.

He should tell Cinder what he had to say and leave. Perry didn’t want Cinder pulled into the mess he was in with the Croven. He glanced east, toward Marron’s. Roar and Aria wouldn’t get too far ahead. He could spare a few moments. Perry slid his bow off his shoulder and sat.

Cinder’s black eyes darted up, but he kept attacking his food. Perry took a few arrows from his quiver. Checked the fletching as he waited. He’d been wondering why Roar had helped Cinder. But now he understood, seeing the boy this way. Would the Tides end up like this without the second shipment from Sable?

“Why is that girl with you?”

Perry looked up, surprised. Cinder was still chewing, but the stick was clean. Not a scrap of meat left. His eyebrows were drawn together in a dark scowl.

Perry lifted his shoulders, allowing himself a smug smile. “Isn’t it obvious?” The boy’s black eyes went wide. “I’m kidding, Cinder. It’s nothing like that. We’re helping each other out of some trouble.”

Cinder swiped a grubby sleeve over his face. “But she is pretty.”

Perry grinned. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Sure you haven’t.” Cinder smiled like they’d agreed on something important. He pushed his hair away from his face, but it fell back into his eyes. It was a mess of knots. Like his own hair, Perry realized.

“What kind of trouble?” Cinder asked.

Perry let out a long breath. He didn’t have the time or energy to tell their story again. But he could skip to the part that mattered now. He sat forward, propping his arms over his knees. “You’ve heard of the Croven?”

“The flesh eaters? Yeah, I’ve heard of them.”

“A couple of nights ago, I got in a mix with them. I’d left Aria to hunt. When I came back, they’d found her. Three of them. They had her cornered.” Perry slid his hand down to the arrowhead. Pressed his finger against the sharp point. This story wasn’t easy to tell either. But he noticed the way Cinder’s expression had opened. The mask of scorn was gone. He was just a boy now, drawn in by a thrilling story. So Perry kept on.

“They were blood hungry. I could almost taste their hunger for her. Maybe because she’s a Dweller . . . different . . . I don’t know. But they weren’t going to walk away. I took two down with my bow. The third with my knife.”

Cinder licked his lips, his black eyes rapt. “So now they’re after you? You were just helping her.”

“That’s not how the Croven will see it.”

“But you had to kill them.” He shook his head. “People don’t ever understand.”

Perry knew he looked stunned. There was something in the way he’d said it. Like it was a burden he knew. “Cinder . . . do you understand?”

Wariness crept into the boy’s gaze. “Can you really tell when I’m lying?”

Perry shifted his shoulders, his heart beating hard. “I can.”

“Then my answer is maybe.”

Perry couldn’t believe it. This kid . . . this pathetic boy had killed someone? “What happened to you? Where are your parents?”

Cinder’s mouth twisted into a snide smile, his temper a cool, sudden drift. “They died in an Aether storm. It happened about two years ago. Poof, and they were gone. It was sad.”

Perry didn’t need his Sense to know he was lying. “Were you forced out here?” Blood Lords exiled murderers and thieves into the borderlands.

Cinder laughed, a sound that belonged to someone much older. “I like it out here.” His smile faded. “This is my home.”

Perry shook his head. He slipped the arrows back into his quiver, grabbed his bow, and stood. He had to get moving. “You can’t keep tailing us, Cinder. You’re not strong enough and it’s too dangerous. Head off while there’s still time.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“You have any idea what the Croven do to kids?”

“I don’t care.”

“You should. Head south. There’s a settlement two days from here. Climb a tree if you need to sleep.”

“I’m not afraid of the Croven, Scire. They can’t hurt me. No one can.”

Perry almost laughed at him. It was an impossible claim. But Cinder’s temper was cool and sharp and clear. Perry inhaled again, waiting for it to sour with his lie.

It never did.

Perry’s mind was racing as he caught up to Aria and Roar. He hung back a ways, needing some space of his own, too absorbed by what Cinder had said. They can’t hurt me. No one can. He’d been sure when he had said those words. But how could Cinder believe something like that?

Perry wondered if he’d read the boy’s temper wrong. Was it the pine or Cinder’s strange Aether scent throwing off his nose? Or was Cinder mentally wounded? Had he convinced himself he was untouchable in order to survive alone? The afternoon hours passed, silent and swift, and Perry still struggled to understand.

At dusk they emerged from a dense grove of pines to a rugged basin. A range of sharp peaks framed the northern horizon. Roar left Aria’s side, dropping back to get a better sense of the distance between them and the Croven.

Perry fell in step with her. He counted twenty paces before he spoke. “Do you want to rest?” He wondered how she was managing. His own feet ached, and they weren’t cut and blistered.

Her gray eyes turned to him. “Why do you even bother asking?”

He stopped. “Aria, that’s not how my Sense works. I can’t tell if you’re—”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk out here,” she said without breaking her stride.

Perry frowned as he watched her go. How had it happened that now he wanted to talk but she didn’t?

Roar came back a short while later. “It’s not good news. The Croven have broken into smaller groups. They’re coming right around us. We’re losing our lead, too.”

Perry shifted the bow and quiver on his back, eyeing his best friend. “You don’t need to do this. Aria and I have to get to Marron’s, but you don’t.”

“Sure, Per. I’ll just go then.”

He’d expected the answer. Perry would never leave Roar in trouble either. But Cinder was another matter. “Did the kid leave?”

“Still on our tail,” Roar said. “I told you he’s a burr. Your little talk with him earlier didn’t help. He’ll probably never leave now.”

“You heard us?”

“Every word.”

Perry shook his head. He’d forgotten the strength of his friend’s ears. “You ever get tired of eavesdropping?”

“Never.”

“What do you think he’s done, Roar?”

“I don’t care and neither should you. Come on. Let’s catch up to Aria. She’s that way.”

“I know which way she went.”

Roar thumped him on the shoulder. “Just making sure you noticed.”

Late into the night, with the miles blurring together, Perry’s thoughts took on the vividness of dreams. He imagined Cinder on the beach, being dragged into a Hover by Dwellers. Then Talon, surrounded by black-caped men with crow masks. By daybreak, the Croven were closing on them like a net, and Perry had decided to do whatever it took. He would not hold Cinder’s life in his hands.

“I’ll be back,” he said. He turned downhill, letting Roar and Aria pull ahead. Cinder wasn’t in eyeshot, but Perry knew he wasn’t far. He let the stinging sensation in his nose lead him to the boy.

When he found Cinder, Perry kept back for a moment and watched him through the woods. He had a lost, sorrowful look about him when he didn’t think he was being watched. It was harder to see him this way than when he sneered.

“Last chance to leave,” Perry said.

Cinder jumped back, swearing. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me, Scire.”

“I said it’s time for you to go.” The terrain ahead opened into a broad plateau. Cinder wouldn’t have the cover of the woods to help him make a break on his own. He would be trapped with them if he didn’t leave now.

“This isn’t your territory,” he said, spreading his bony arms wide. “And I’m not pledged to you.”

“Get out of here, Cinder.”

“I told you before. I go where I want.”

Perry slid off his bow, nocked an arrow, and aimed at Cinder’s throat. He didn’t know what he planned to do, only that he couldn’t watch this scrawny boy die because of him. “Be gone before it’s too late.”

“No!” Cinder shouted. “You need me!”

“Leave now.” Perry brought the bowstring back to full draw.

Cinder made a low, growling sound. Perry sucked in a breath as the prickling sensation behind his nose sharpened, turned to stabbing.

A blue flame lit in Cinder’s dark eyes. For an instant, Perry thought it was the Aether reflecting in his black eyes, but it grew brighter and brighter. Glowing blue lines crept up from Cinder’s sagging collar, winding up his neck. Snaking over his bony jaw and face. Perry couldn’t believe what he saw. Cinder’s veins lit like they ran with Aether.

Splinters of pain flushed across Perry’s arms and face. “Stop what you’re doing!”

Roar and Aria ran up to them. Roar had his knife in his hand. They froze when they saw Cinder. Perry’s heart drummed wildly. Cinder’s glowing eyes stared through him, vacant and bright.

Perry gritted his teeth as his muscles began to twitch painfully. “Cinder, stop!”

The boy put his palms up, showing hands webbed with Aether. The charge in the air surged, sending another stabbing wave over Perry’s skin.

What was he?

Heat flared across the knuckles of Perry’s forward hand, gripping the bow. The steel arrowhead inches away began to glow orange. Reflex took over. He made a quick adjustment off his mark and loosed the arrow.

An explosion of light blinded Perry, keeping him from seeing what he’d struck. He didn’t feel himself drop onto the dirt or ball up around his arm. He lost time. Knew only that something terrible had happened. The scent of his own cooked flesh brought him back to a world where pain was everything. Terrible animal groans filled his ears. They came from him.

“Stay back!” Cinder yelled. Through squinted eyes, Perry saw Roar and Aria uphill, both motionless and stunned. Scorched smells flooded Perry’s nose. Burnt hair and wool and skin.

Cinder dropped to his knees at his side. “What happened?” he asked. “What did you make me do?” The blue of Cinder’s eyes was fading. His veins melted back into his skin.

Perry couldn’t answer. He didn’t know if he still had a hand. He couldn’t bring himself to look.

Cinder trembled. His entire body was quaking. “What did I do? You fired. . . . You were going to shoot me.”

Perry managed to shake his head. “Just needed you to go.”

Cinder looked stricken. He climbed to his feet, his balance weaving wildly. “I don’t have anywhere to go,” he said, his words choked. Stooping, bent over his stomach like he’d been punched, he staggered into the woods.

Roar and Aria thundered up. Roar took one look at Perry’s hand and went white.

Perry met his eyes. “Help him. Bring him back.”

“Help him? I’m going to slit his throat.”

“Just get him back here, Roar!”

When he was gone, Perry lay back and stared through the trees. The Aether swirled above. He closed his eyes. Concentrated on breathing.

“Perry, can I see?”

Aria knelt at his side. “Let me see,” she said softly, reaching for his hand.

He sat up, a groan tearing through his throat. Then he looked at his left hand for the first time. It had swollen to twice its normal size. The skin over his knuckles looked like blackened meat. Big, red blisters crowded the flat of his hand, making a trail down his wrist. Perry’s stomach twisted. Stars burst before his eyes. He swallowed back the sour rush in his mouth. He was going to vomit or pass out. Maybe both.

“Put your head down and breathe. I’ll be right back.”

She handed him the bottle of Luster when she returned. Perry drank. Didn’t stop until he’d drained what was left. He dropped the bottle to the side. Aria had taken his burnt hand into her lap and pushed his sleeve up. She held a long strip of gauze. Her belt once, he realized. She poured water over it.

“I should wrap it, Perry. So it doesn’t get infected.”

Cold sweat broke out over his back. Perry met her eyes for only a second, afraid she’d see his fear. He nodded and let his head fall forward again.

Her first touch over his knuckles was feather soft, but chills came over him, shaking his shoulders. Aria’s hands went still.

“Keep going,” he said, before he could change his mind and rip his arm off. It might have hurt less. He kept his head down. Watched the dark spots his tears made as they fell on his leather pants. He wanted to ask her to sing. He remembered her voice, how it had carried him away. He couldn’t form the words. But then the Luster kicked in, saving him by dulling some of the pain. Perry pushed the wetness off his cheeks and straightened, swaying unsteadily.

Aria wrapped the long strip of gauze around his wrist, and then wove it up, looping it through each of his fingers. She was calm now. Focused. He watched her as he sank deeper and deeper into the mind-numbing fog of Luster.

She was touching him. He wondered if she realized it too.

“Have you ever seen someone like him before?” she asked.

Cinder. A boy with Aether in his blood. “No. Never seen that,” he slurred. Perry wondered how it was possible, but he couldn’t deny what he’d seen. Not with proof moving through him in agonizing waves. How many times had he looked up and felt connected to the sky himself? Like it wasn’t just some faraway force? Like his own mood ebbed and flowed with the Aether? He should’ve trusted his Sense. Cinder set off the same stinging sensation in his nose. And he’d known the boy was hiding something.

“I was trying to help. . . . The more I try to catch up, the farther I fall behind.” The words slipped out, clumsy but true.

Aria looked up from his hand. “What did you say?”

Her face blurred left and right. Finally his focus pinned on her.

“Nothing. Nothing. Just stupid things.”

Roar came back carrying Cinder across his neck in a hunter’s hold, legs to one side, arms to the other.

“Is he dead?” The question came out of Perry in one sound, all of the words sliding together.

“Unfortunately, no,” Roar said, out of breath.

Cinder balled up as soon as Roar set him down. He was shaking worse than before. He turned his face into the earth. Perry saw wide patches of bare scalp. They hadn’t been there before. His clothes were blackened. Almost falling off completely.

“We have to leave him, Perry. He’s too weak.”

“We can’t.”

“Look at him, Peregrine. He can barely hold his head up.”

“The Croven will come through here.” Perry gritted his teeth as stars bloomed before his eyes. Fewer words, he told himself. Less movement. Just breathing.

Aria draped a blanket over Cinder. She bent close. “Is it the Aether?”

Perry peered up. The Aether had a soft, washed-out look. It had waned back to the wisps of earlier that day. He was in so much pain, he hadn’t noticed. Then he realized the sting in his nose was faint. Hardly there. Cinder had to be linked to the Aether tides.

“Just leave,” Cinder rasped.

“Listen to him, Perry. It’s a haul to Marron’s, and we’ve got twenty Croven on our heels. Are you really going to risk our lives for this fiend?”

Perry didn’t have the strength to argue. He climbed to his feet, concentrating on hiding his unsteadiness. “I’ll carry him.”

“You will?” Roar shook his head, his laugh dry. “He’s not Talon, Perry!”

Perry wanted to punch him. He tried to get himself over to Roar, but his legs took him sideways. Aria jumped up, darting toward him, but he found his balance. For a moment, he was staring down into her eyes. Seeing her worry. She turned to Roar.

“He’s right, Roar. We can’t leave him like this. And we’re only wasting time arguing.”

Roar looked from Aria to him. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He went to Cinder and hoisted the boy roughly onto his shoulders, cursing viciously as he turned up the mountain and set off.

They traveled in a close pack now. Aria walked to Perry’s right, the blisters and cuts on her feet hidden by boots. Roar trudged to his left, breathing hard, making the climb to Marron’s with a hundred extra pounds on his shoulders. Perry tucked his arm close to his chest, but it didn’t help. He felt his heartbeat thumping in his hand with every step. Thirst gripped him. He emptied every one of their skins within the first hour but found no relief.

When the Luster wore off, he battled waves of pain that threatened to drop him. But he noticed something else, too. The pine shroud had lifted. Scents came with familiar clarity, isolated and sharp. His nose had finally adjusted.

The Croven’s fetid scents carried to him on the wind. He counted more than two dozen individual scents. Stronger, closer, were Aria’s and Roar’s tempers.

From them he scented only fear.

Chapter 21
ARIA

Aria stared into the woods with burning eyes, searching for crow masks and black capes. They were moving too slow and stopping too often for Roar to catch his breath. When they did rest, she didn’t miss the look of relief on Perry’s ashen face. Somehow, despite the state of her feet, she’d become the fastest one among them.

Her gaze fell to Perry’s bandaged hand. The white gauze, bright in the fading daylight, was spotted with blood. She’d never seen a wound like that. She couldn’t imagine the pain he was in. She couldn’t believe what had happened.

Who was Cinder? How could a human have that kind of power? Aria knew about animals that used bioelectricity. Rays and eels. But a boy? It was like something from a Realm. But then hadn’t she just learned about Scires and Auds and Seers? Couldn’t Cinder’s ability be just another mutation? Harnessing the Aether seemed like a massive genetic break. But it was possible.

She lost herself in the rhythm of picking her feet up and setting them down until Roar stopped suddenly and dropped Cinder on the dirt, making no effort at gentleness.

“I can’t carry him anymore.”

Night had fallen but a full moon shone, bold and bright in the sky. The Aether had weakened, fading to a wash of pale light. They’d reached a stretch of flat land. The mountain climbed up ahead, growing thickly wooded again.

Cinder lay in a heap, his eyes closed. He wasn’t shivering anymore. Perry swayed beside her.

“We’re almost there,” he said, tipping his head toward the wooded slope. “It’s just there.”

Roar shook his head. “My legs.”

Perry nodded. “I’ll take him.”

Cinder’s eyes opened to slits, searching for Perry. “No.” His voice was small, a whimper. He rolled to the side, turning his back to them.

Perry stared at him for a moment. Then he took Cinder’s wrist, pulling the boy’s arm across his shoulder. Perry’s wounded arm wrapped around Cinder’s waist as he hauled Cinder up. They began to walk together, Perry bending forward to bring himself closer to Cinder’s height.

Cinder glanced up as they passed her, his black eyes sparkling with the sheen of tears. With shame, Aria realized. He’d torched the hand that now held him upright.

Aria whirled around. “What is that?” The night had a new noise. A faraway hum.

“Bells,” Roar said, glaring at the woods.

She remembered Harris’s words. “To drive away dark spirits,” she said.

“To drive me mad.” Roar took something from his bag. A black hat that he pulled over his head. Heavy flaps came down to cover his ears. “They disorient me.”

Perry turned. He lifted his head slightly, his eyes scanning as he drew a breath through his nose in a natural, wild gesture. This was him. The Scire. The Seer. He met Roar’s gaze, a silent message passing between them.

“We have to run,” Roar said.

Terror shot through her. She looked at Cinder, hanging at Perry’s side. “How are you going to run with him?”

He was moving before she’d finished asking the question. Aria reached into her pockets and scooped out the rocks she’d collected. She let them scatter on the ground.

Minutes after they started running, her muscles cramped. Nausea rose up in her, which she didn’t understand, as she hadn’t eaten in a day. She pushed on. Her boots caught on every small stone. Every step stabbed the bottoms of her feet. Trees loomed up ahead, shadowed shapes on the hillside. The trees would hide them. She ran and ran and still they seemed no closer.

“They’re running too,” Perry said after another stretch. An hour? A minute? All the color had drained from his face. She could see that even in the dark.

She didn’t notice when dawn came, gray and misty. Or when they’d made it to the incline where the trees began. She appeared beneath the pines suddenly, like she’d fractioned into a Realm.

“Move, Cinder. Run,” Perry told him.

Cinder’s feet dragged. He was barely supporting his own weight anymore.

Aria bit her lip, searching desperately into the woods for the Croven. The bells were loud now, disorienting like Roar said. “Let me take him, Perry.”

Perry slowed. His hair was slick and darkened with sweat. His soaked shirt sucked to his frame. He nodded, letting her take Cinder. Cinder was freezing to the touch. His eyes had rolled to the back of his head. Roar appeared at his other side. Together, they dug in, pushing, carrying Cinder between them as the slope grew steeper and the bells rang louder.

Roar stopped. “Straight uphill. Can you manage without me?”

“Yes.” She turned and her heart seized. “Where’s Perry?”

“Slowing the Croven down.”

He’d left? He’d gone back?

Roar drew his knife. “Keep moving. Get to Marron’s. Get us help.”

He tore down the slope, his black clothes fading into the shadows. Aria firmed her grip around Cinder’s bony ribs and pressed on, her every step weighted by terror. She couldn’t push back the thought . . . What if she never saw them again? What if that was the last time she’d see Perry? She wouldn’t let it be.

“Help me, Cinder.”

“I can’t.” The words were softer than a whisper at her side.

She was close when she noticed the stone wall. It was so unexpected, rising amid the evergreens. It soared to high above, many times her height. Aria hobbled up with Cinder, flattening her free hand on the rough surface. She had to feel it to be sure it was real. She followed it, keeping close enough that her shoulder dragged against the wall, until she came upon a heavy wooden gate. A screen was embedded in the mortar to the side. She gasped, seeing a device from her world here on the outside.

She swiped her hand across the dusty screen. “I need help! I need Marron!” Her breath came in ragged sobs. She tipped her head up to a tower high above her.

“Help!”

Someone peered down, a dark figure against the bright morning sky. She heard distant shouts. A few moments later, the inset screen flickered on. A man appeared, his face plump and fair and blue-eyed. His damp, butter-blond hair showed the traces of a thorough combing.

A disbelieving smile broke over his face. “A Dweller?”

The gate opened with a rumble that clattered in her kneecaps.

Aria wobbled into a broad grass courtyard, her shoulders screaming with the effort of keeping Cinder on his feet. Cobbled streets linked stone cottages and garden plots. In the distance, still within the wall, she saw pens with goats and sheep. Smoke drifted skyward from several chimneys. A few people glanced at her, more curious than surprised. It looked like a keep in a Medieval Realm, except the enormous structure at the center resembled a gray box, not a castle.

Ivy grew along its walls but did nothing to soften the cement structure. There was only one entry, heavy steel doors that slid open smoothly as she watched. The round-faced man from the screen emerged. He was short and portly but graceful as he hurried toward her. A young man followed close at his side. She’d been standing there long enough that the gate behind her began to close.

“No!” she said. “There are two more people coming! Peregrine and Roar. I was told to find Marron.”

“I’m Marron.” He turned his blue gaze toward the door. “Perry is out there?” By then, shouts of “Croven” rained down from the wall. Marron gave quick orders to the lanky young man at his side, directing people to take posts on the wall, others to head downhill to help Perry and Roar.

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!”

Roar spun, his eyes wide, sweeping. Arrows sliced past them, flying at the Croven. They ran, legs tearing into the slope. They didn’t stop until they’d crossed the gate into Marron’s courtyard.

People surrounded him, telling him to follow. Perry did what they asked. He could barely speak. He stumbled into the Box and through Marron’s halls, not thinking beyond moving his legs.

He was taken through a heavy steel door into a wide, empty hall with gleaming tile floors. Repellent smells surged into his nose. Alcohol. Plastic. Urine. Blood. Disease. The medical facility’s scents had reminded him of Mila last year. Now he thought of Talon, and his legs almost gave out beneath him.

He’d gotten here. Marron would fix the Smarteye and he’d find Talon.

A man in a doctor’s coat asked Perry something about his hand, jumbled words Perry couldn’t focus on. Perry looked at Roar, hoping he knew the answer, when shouts burst across the hall.

“Cinder,” Roar said, but Perry was already running, pushing past the knot of people clustered by a door. He scanned the room. Cloth partitions divided it into smaller areas with cots. Cinder slumped against the far left corner, a feral look in his black eyes. His noxious scent burst in the back of Perry’s nose, followed by the icy burn of his fear.

“Don’t come near me! Stay back!”

“He was unconscious,” said one of the doctors. “I was trying to give him an IV.”

Cinder hurled curses at them.

“Easy,” Perry said. “Settle down, Cinder.”

“We need to tranquilize him,” someone said.

Cinder’s eyes snapped over Perry’s shoulder and he yelled, “Get back or I’ll torch you!”

The sting in Perry’s nose surged as the lights flickered and then went out. Perry blinked hard, willing his eyes to adjust, but he was no good in pitch-black. “Get out,” Perry said, spreading his arms. He couldn’t let Cinder burn them, too. “Roar, get them out.”

Fumbling, feeling through the dark, he and Roar herded everyone outside. Then Perry shut the door, leaning against it as he caught his breath. He couldn’t see anything. For long seconds, all he heard were the muffled voices in the hall. Then Cinder spoke.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s me. Perry.” Perry frowned. Had he even told Cinder his name until now?

A sliver of warm light peeked beneath the door. Candlelight out in the hall. Enough for the room to take shape before him.

“You like getting hurt?” Cinder asked. “You want me to burn your other hand?”

Perry didn’t have any fight left in him. He didn’t think Cinder did either. The kid was still shoved against the corner, barely keeping himself upright. Perry walked to the cot nearest to Cinder. It creaked as he sat down.

“What are you doing?” Cinder asked after a moment.

“Sitting.”

“You should leave, Scire.”

Perry didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure he could leave. The last bit of strength drained out of him, leaving his muscles twitching. The sweat that covered his shirt was cooling.

“Where am I?” Cinder asked.

“A friend’s. His name is Marron.”

“Why are you here, Scire? You think you can help me? Is that it?” He waited for an answer. When Perry didn’t give him one, Cinder slid to the floor.

In the low light, Perry saw that Cinder had dropped his head into his hands. His temper sank, growing cool and dark, until it was a blackness so complete and cold that Perry’s heart began to pound. There was something familiar about it. About a temper like this.

“You should’ve just left me. Didn’t you see what I am?” The boy’s voice broke, and then Perry heard soft whimpering sounds.

Perry swallowed the tight feeling in his throat, keeping still and quiet on the cot as salt mixed with all the scents in the room. Slowly, he told himself. This boy had a rip in him. A wound that ran soul deep. Perry knew what that was like. This would take time.

“Can you . . . can you move your fingers?”

Perry looked down at his hand. “Not much. But it’ll be easier when the swelling goes down, I think.”

Cinder let out a moan. “I could have killed you.”

“You didn’t.”

“But I could have! It’s just in me and then it’s out and people get hurt and die and I did it. I don’t want to be like this.” Cinder buried his face as he fell into harsh, raw sobs. “Get out. Please go.”

Perry didn’t want to leave him this way, but he was sure of one thing. Cinder was filled with shame. If he stayed there now, Cinder would never look him in the eye again. And he wanted that. He needed to talk to this boy again. Perry slid off the cot onto weary legs.

He would go for now, but he would return.

Chapter 23
ARIA

“Aria?”

Aria pushed herself out of the deepest sleep she’d ever been in. She blinked until the blurriness cleared.

Perry sat at the edge of the bed. “I’m here. Marron . . . he said to tell you.”

She knew he’d gotten there safely. She’d been with Marron when Slate came with the news. But seeing him, she was rocked again by relief. “You took so long. I thought the Croven had gotten you.”

His eyes glinted with amusement. “No wonder you were sleeping so well.”

She smiled. When Slate had shown her to the bedroom, she’d only planned to wash her hands and get off her feet until Perry’s hand was treated. But she’d had no hope of staying awake when she saw the bed.

“You’re all right?” she asked. Mud crusted to the side of his jaw. His lips were dry and cracked, but she didn’t see any new injuries. “How’s your hand?”

He lifted his arm. A white cast reached from his fingers to his elbow. “It’s soft inside and cool. They gave me some pain medicine, too.” He smiled. “Works better than Luster.”

“What about Cinder?”

Perry looked down at his cast, his grin fading. “He’s in the medical ward.”

“Do they think they can help him?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t said anything about him, and Cinder won’t let anyone near him. I’ll go see him later.” He sighed and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “I couldn’t leave him out there.”

“I know,” she said. She couldn’t either. But she also couldn’t deny the danger in bringing Cinder around other people. He was a boy, but she’d seen what he did to Perry’s hand.

Perry tipped his head to the side. “I gave Marron the Smarteye. He’s working on fixing it. He’ll let us know when there’s news.”

“We made it, ally,” she said.

“We did.” He smiled. It was the lion grin she’d only seen a few times. Sweet and engaging, with a hint of shyness. It showed a whole part of him she didn’t know. Heart pounding, she looked down and saw that they were on the same bed. Alone.

He tensed like he’d just noticed the same thing and then his gaze flicked to the door. She didn’t want him to leave. He was finally talking to her without the grit of anger between them. Without any help from Luster or Roar’s easy chatter. She said the first thing that came to mind. “Where’s Roar?”

His eyes widened slightly. “Downstairs. I can go get him—”

“No . . . I just wondered if he’d made it back safe.”

It was too late. He’d already reached the door. “Not a scratch on him.” He hesitated for a moment. “I’m going to go pass out somewhere,” he said, and left.

For a few moments, she stared at the spot where he’d been. Why had he hesitated? What had he wanted to say?

She burrowed back into the warm covers. She was still in her filthy clothes, but she felt the soft pressure of bandages on her feet. Vaguely she remembered answering Slate’s question about her limp.

A lamp on the bedside illuminated soft cream walls. She was in a room, four solid walls around her. It was so quiet. She didn’t hear the rustling wind, or the Croven’s bells, or the sound of her running feet. She looked up and saw a ceiling that was still. Perfectly still. She hadn’t felt this safe since she’d last been with Lumina.

The bed was low to the ground and sleek, but covered in heavy luxurious damask. A Matisse hung on one wall, just a simple sketch of a tree, but the lines brimmed with expression. Her eyes narrowed. Was it a real Matisse? An oriental rug spread autumn colors across the floor. How had Marron collected all of these things?

Sleep came, tugging at her again. As she drifted off, she wished for another dream of Lumina. A better one than the last. In this one, she’d sing her mother’s favorite aria. Then Lumina would leave her seat, come up to the stage, and hug Aria close.

They’d be together again.

When she woke again, she unwrapped the bandages from her feet and headed to an adjoining bathroom, where she showered for the next hour. She almost wept over how good the hot water felt cascading over her tired muscles. Her feet were a mess. Bruised. Blistered. Scabbed. She washed them and wrapped them in towels.

She was surprised to find the bed made when she returned to the bedroom. A small bundle of folded clothing rested on the duvet, along with soft silk slippers. A red rose sat on top of the stack. Aria picked it up gingerly and breathed in the fragrance. Beautiful. Softer than the scent of roses in the Realms. But roses in the Realms didn’t make her heart race. Had Perry remembered her asking about their scent? Was this his answer?

The clothes were pure white, the kind of white she hadn’t seen since she’d left Reverie, and far more fitted than the camos she’d worn for the past week. She pulled them on, noticing the change in the shapes of her legs and calves. She’d grown stronger despite eating such meager amounts.

She heard a knock at the door. “Come in.”

A young woman entered, dressed in a white doctor’s smock. She was striking, dark and long-limbed, with high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. A braid wove back from her forehead, ending in a rope that swung in front of her as she knelt by the bed. She set down a steel case and unsnapped the thick buckles.

“I’m Rose,” she said. “I’m one of the doctors here. I’m here to have another look at your feet.”

Another look. Rose had already tended to her while she’d slept. Aria sat on the bed as Rose unwrapped the towels. The medical implements in the steel case were modern, similar to what they had in the Pod.

“We provide medical services,” Rose said, following Aria’s gaze. “It’s one of the ways Marron sustains Delphi. People travel weeks to receive care here. These look much better already. The skin is closing nicely. This will sting for a moment.”

“What is this place?” Aria asked.

“It’s been many things. Before the Unity it was a mine and then a nuclear shelter. Now it’s one of the only places to live in safety.” Rose’s eyes flicked up. “We avoid trouble with the outside most of the time.”

Aria couldn’t say anything to that. They had shown up wounded, and with cannibals chasing after them. Rose was right. They hadn’t exactly made a graceful entrance.

She watched quietly as Rose applied a gel to the bottoms of her feet. A cool, tightening sensation came, followed by relief from pain that had haunted her for a week. Rose pressed a device that resembled a vitals reader to Aria’s wrist. She checked the small screen on the back after it beeped, frowning. “How long have you been out here?”

“Eight—I mean ten days,” she answered, adding the two days she’d been unconscious with fever.

Rose’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You’re dehydrated and undernourished. I’ve never treated a Dweller before, but as far as I can tell you’re otherwise in good health.”

Aria shrugged. “I don’t feel like I’m . . .”

Dying.

She couldn’t finish the sentence. No one was more surprised than she was about her health. She remembered laying her head on Perry’s satchel early in their odyssey. She’d been so tired and sore to the bone. She still felt that way, like her muscles and her feet needed to heal, but now she had the sense they would heal. She didn’t feel cramps anymore, or headaches, or the grip of illness.

How much longer would her health hold? How long would it take to fix the Smarteye and reach Lumina?

Rose returned the reader to the case.

“Did you treat Peregrine?” Aria asked. “Who I came here with?” She could too easily picture the blisters across the solid bones of his knuckles.

“I did. You’ll heal faster than he will.” She rested her hand on the opened lid, ready to close it. “He’s been here before.”

Aria knew she was being baited. “Has he?”

“A year ago. We grew close,” Rose said, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “At least, I thought we did. Scires will do that. They know exactly what to say and how it affects you. They’ll give you what you want, but they won’t give you themselves.” She pushed up her sleeve, showing unmarked skin around her biceps. “Not unless you’re one of them.”

“That was so . . . open of you,” Aria said. She couldn’t help imagining Perry with her. Beautiful. A handful of years older than Aria and Perry both. She felt her face go hot but couldn’t stop herself from asking the next question. “Do you still love him?”

Rose laughed. “It’s probably best if I don’t answer that. I’m married now and with child.”

Aria stared at Rose’s flat stomach. Was she always this candid? “I don’t know why you’re telling me all of this.”

“Marron told me to help you so that’s what I’m doing. I knew what I was getting into. I knew it would never work. I think you should know too.”

“Thanks for the warning but I’m leaving. Besides, Perry and I are just friends. Even that’s questionable.”

“He wanted me to see to you first until he learned you were asleep. He told me you walked a week on those cuts without once moaning about it. I don’t think there’s much question at all.” Rose shut the case with a loud snap, the hint of a smile on her lips.

“Tread carefully, Aria. And try to stay off your feet.”

Chapter 24

ARIA

Aria stepped into the hallway, Rose’s words still echoing in her mind. Tapestries hung on smooth turquoise walls, the color picking up the rich threads that wove an ancient battle scene. A lighted alcove to one end housed a life-size marble statue of a man and woman locked in either a fierce struggle or a passionate embrace. It was hard to tell. To the other end of the hall, stairs with a gilt-leafed banister swept downward. Aria smiled. Everything in Delphi came from a different time and place. Marron’s home felt like being in a dozen Realms at once.

Perry’s voice drifted up the stairs. For a moment, she closed her eyes and listened to his deep drawl. Even among Outsiders, he had a distinctive, unhurried way of talking. He spoke of his home, the Tide Valley. Of his worries about Aether storms and raids by other tribes. For someone who hardly said anything, he was a compelling speaker. Concise but sure. After a few minutes, she shook her head at her own shameless eavesdropping.

The stairs took her back down to the room with the couches. Roar sat on one, Perry sprawled across another. Marron perched by Roar, one rounded leg bouncing over the other. She didn’t see Cinder but that didn’t surprise her. Perry stopped speaking and sat up when he saw her. She tried not to think of what that meant, that he didn’t want to continue in her presence.

He wore new clothes like she did. A shirt the color of sand. Leather pants that were closer to black than brown and weren’t patched and re-patched. His hair had been pulled back and it gleamed under the lights. He was drumming the fingers of his good hand against his cast. He was also pointedly not looking her way.

Marron came over and took her hands into his, the action so full of affection Aria couldn’t bring herself to pull away. He wore what Aria could only call a smoking jacket, a ridiculous burgundy velvet affair, trimmed and belted with black satin sashes.

“Ah,” he said, his cheeks plumping with a smile. “You received them. Not a bad fit, I see. I have other clothes being readied for you, my dear. But this will do fine for now. How are you, darling?”

“Good. Thank you for these. And for the rose,” she added, realizing it had come from Marron, along with the clothes.

Marron leaned in, giving her hands a squeeze. “A small gift for a great beauty.”

Aria laughed nervously. In Reverie, she wasn’t anything unusual. Only her voice set her apart from other people. To be praised for something she’d had no say in seemed odd, but it also felt nice.

“Shall we eat?” Marron asked. “We have much to discuss and might as well fill our stomachs as we do it. I’m sure you’re all quite hungry.”

They followed him into a dining room as lavishly decorated as the rest of Delphi. The walls were covered in crimson and gold fabric and hung floor to ceiling with oil portraits. Candlelight caught on crystal and silver, filling the room with sparkling light. The opulence sent a pang of sorrow through her. It reminded her of the Opera House.

“I’ve traded over my lifetime for these treasures,” Marron said at her side. “But meals should be revered, don’t you think?”

Roar pulled out a chair for her as Perry headed to the far side of the rectangular table. They’d hardly sat down when people arrived to pour them water and wine. They were well-dressed and fastidiously groomed. Aria was beginning to see what Marron had done in his compound. Work in exchange for safety. But the people who served him didn’t appear distressed. Everyone she had seen within Marron’s walls seemed healthy and content. And loyal, like Rose.

Marron lifted his glass, his soft bejeweled fingers fanning like a peacock’s feathers. Aria locked onto a flash of blue. Marron was wearing the ring with the blue stone that Perry had stashed away. Aria smiled to herself. She should stop making assumptions about roses and rings.

“To the return of old friends and to an unexpected but most welcome new one.”

Soup was brought out, the smell stirring her appetite to life. The others began to eat, but she set down her spoon. It was dizzying, going from the harsh outside world, from the sprint for their lives, to this sparkling feast. She should have adjusted faster, having fractioned through Realms her entire life. But she savored the moment, despite its strangeness, appreciating all that she saw before her.

They were safe. They were warm. They had food.

She picked up the spoon again, welcoming the weight of it in her hand. When she took her first sip, tastes burst like tiny fireworks over her tongue. It had been so long since she’d eaten anything rich. The soup, a creamy mushroom concoction, was delicious.

She glanced at Perry. He sat at the head of the table, opposite Marron. She’d expected to find him out of place. He belonged in the woods; she knew that with every certainty. But he looked comfortable. Clean-shaven, the angles of his jaw and nose seemed sharper, his green eyes brighter, catching as much candlelight as the chandelier above.

He motioned for one of the servants. “Where did you find morels this time of year?”

“We grow them here,” said the young man.

“They’re very good.”

Aria’s gaze fell to the soup. He knew there were morels in it. She’d tasted mushroom but he identified them exactly. Smell and taste were related senses. She remembered Lumina telling her that once. They were the last senses to be incorporated into the Realms after sight, sound, and touch. Smell was the hardest sense to replicate virtually.

She looked back at Perry, watching as his lips closed over the spoon. If his sense of smell was so strong, was his sense of taste heightened too? For some reason, the thought made her blush. Aria took a few sips of water, hiding her face with the crystal.

“Marron has been working on your Smarteye,” Perry said. He was calling it a Smarteye. Not a device. Not the eyepiece.

“Since the minute Perry gave it to me. It’s largely undamaged, from what we can tell so far. We’re working on restoring power to it, touchy without setting off a locating signal, but we’ll get it. I’ll know how long that should take soon.”

“There should be two files,” Aria said. “A recording and a message from my mother.”

“If they can be found, we’ll find them.”

For the first time, Aria felt hope. Real hope that she’d reach Lumina. That Perry would find Talon. Perry met her eyes and smiled. He felt it too.

“I don’t know how I can thank you,” she said to Marron.

“I’m afraid it’s not all good news. Restoring power will be the easy part. Linking the eye to the Realms to contact your mother will be far more difficult.” Marron cast an apologetic look her way. “I’ve tried to breach the security protocols for the Realms before. I’ve never managed it, but I’ve never tried with a Smarteye or with a Dweller before.”

Aria had worried about this. Hess had surely blocked her access into the Realms, but she hoped the “Songbird” file might help them reach Lumina.

Marron asked questions about the Pod as they moved from soup to beef stewed in rich wine sauce. Aria explained how most everything, from the production of food to the recycling of their air and water, was automated.

“People don’t work?” Roar asked.

“Only the minority do in the real.” Aria glanced at Perry, looking for signs of disgust, but he was tucked into his food. A meal like this had to be a rarity for him, not just something he’d missed on their journey.

She told them about the pseudo-economy, where people amassed virtual wealth, but that there were black markets and hackers. “None of it changes what happens in the real. Aside from the Consuls, everyone is entitled to the same living quarters and clothes and diet.”

Roar leaned across the table and smiled at her seductively, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “When you say everything happens in the Realms, do you mean everything?”

Aria laughed nervously. “Yes. Especially that. There are no risks in the Realms.”

Roar’s smile widened. “You simply think it and it happens? And it actually feels real?”

“Why are we talking about this?”

“I need a Smarteye,” he said.

Perry rolled his eyes. “There’s no way it’s the same.”

Marron cleared his throat. He’d gone a little red in the face. Aria knew she had too. She didn’t know if it was the same, real or Realms, but she wasn’t about to tell them that.

“What happened with the Croven?” she asked, anxious to change the subject. Surely by now they had disappeared.

She looked around the table. No one answered. Finally Marron wiped his mouth neatly with a napkin and spoke. “They’re still gathered in the plateau, from what we can tell. Slaying a Blood Lord is a grave offense, Aria. They will stay as long as they can.”

“We slew a Blood Lord?” she asked, hardly believing she’d just used the word slew.

Perry’s green eyes flicked up. “It’s the only way to explain their numbers. And I did it, Aria. Not you.”

Because of what she did. Because she’d left the rotten cave and gone searching for berries. “So they’re waiting?”

Perry sat back in his chair, his jaw tight. “Yes.”

“We’re safe here, I assure you,” Marron said. “The wall is fifty feet at the lowest point, and we have archers posted day and night. They’ll keep the Croven from coming too close. And soon the weather will turn. With the cold and the Aether storms, the Croven will leave in search of shelter. Let’s hope that happens before they do something rash.”

“How many are there?” she asked.

“Near forty,” Perry said.

“Forty?” She couldn’t believe it. Forty cannibals were after him? For days, she’d imagined reaching her mother in Bliss. She imagined Lumina sending a Hover for her. With the footage of Soren, she’d clear her name of any wrongdoing and start over in Bliss. But what about Perry? Would he ever be able to leave Marron’s? If he did, would he always have to run from the Croven?

Marron shook his head at his wine. “In these harsh times, the Croven fare well.”

Roar nodded. “They destroyed the Blackfins a few months ago. They’re a tribe west of here. They’d suffered a few lean years, like most. Then the Aether storms came and hit their compound directly.”

“We were there,” Perry said, glancing at her. “It was the place with the broken roof.”

Aria swallowed through a thick throat, imagining the power of the storm that had leveled that place. Perry had found her boots and coat there. She’d worn the Blackfins clothes for days.

“They took a cruel hit,” Perry said.

“They did,” Roar agreed. “They lost half of their number to the storms in one day. Lodan, their Blood Lord, sent word to Vale, offering to pledge what was left of his tribe to the Tides. This is the highest form of shame to a Blood Lord, Aria.” He paused, his dark eyes darting to Perry. “Vale refused the offer. He claimed he couldn’t take on any more hungry mouths.”

Perry looked stung. “Vale didn’t tell me.”

“Of course not, Perry. Would you have supported his decision?”

“No.”

“As I heard it,” Roar continued, “Lodan was heading toward the Horns.”

“To Sable?” Marron asked.

Roar nodded. “There’s a place people speak of,” he told Aria. “A place free of the Aether. They call it the Still Blue. Some say it’s not real. Just a dream of a clear sky. But from time to time, people get to whispering about it.”

Roar looked back at Perry. “There’s more noise than I’ve ever heard out there. People are saying Sable’s discovered it. Lodan was convinced.”

Perry sat forward. He looked ready to spring from his chair. “We need to find out if it’s true.”

Roar’s hand settled on his knife. “If I go to Sable, it won’t be to ask questions about the Still Blue.”

“If you go to Sable, it will be to deliver my sister as you should have.” Perry’s tone had grown cold. Aria’s eyes darted from Roar to Perry.

“What happened to the Fins?” Marron asked. He calmly cut his meat into a perfect square, like he had no idea of the sudden tension in the room.

Roar took a long drink before he spoke. “The Fins were already weakened when illness hit them in the open. Then the Croven came and took the strongest children into their fold. To the rest . . . well, they did what the Croven do.”

Aria looked down. The sauce on her plate had begun to look too red.

“Terrible,” Marron said, nudging his plate away. “The stuff of nightmares.” He smiled at her. “You’ll soon leave this all behind, my dear. Perry told me your mother is a scientist. What sort of research does she do?”

“Genetics. I don’t know much beyond that. She works for the committee that oversees all the Pods and the Realms. The Central Governing Board. It’s high-level research. She’s not allowed to talk about it.”

Aria was embarrassed at how it sounded. Like her own mother couldn’t trust her with information. “She’s very dedicated. She left to work in another Pod a few months ago,” she added, feeling the need to say something more.

“Your mother is not in Reverie?” Marron asked.

“No. She had to go to Bliss to do some research.”

Marron set his wine down so fast it spilled over the edges of the crystal, soaking into the cream table linen.

“What is it?” Aria asked.

Marron’s rings winked red and blue as he gripped the arms of his chair. “There’s a rumor from the traders who came around last week. It’s only a rumor, Aria. You heard what Roar said about the Still Blue. People talk.”

The room turned around her. “What’s the rumor?”

“I’m so sorry to tell you. Bliss was struck by an Aether storm. They said it was destroyed.”

Chapter 25

PEREGRINE

Perry stood outside Aria’s door, his lungs pumping air like a bellows. There was plenty to like about Marron’s. Food. Beds. Food. But all the doors and walls gave him a pathetic range on tempers. He thought of all the times over the past week he’d wanted a break. Just an hour without breathing in Aria’s ache, or Roar’s. Yet here he was, practically sniffing under Aria’s door.

He didn’t catch anything. Perry put his ear to the wood. Fared no better. Swearing under his breath, he jogged downstairs. He entered a room on the first floor, bare save for a large painting that looked like accidental splatter, and the heavy steel door of an elevator. Perry punched at the buttons. Paced until the door slid open. There were no buttons inside. The steel box dropped to only one place. Marron called it the Navel.

Ten seconds in, he started to sweat. He continued to drop, deeper, deeper, imagining all the steps he’d taken to climb the mountain in reverse. The elevator slowed and stopped, though his stomach kept going for a moment or two. He remembered the feeling from his first visit. A hard one to forget. Finally the door opened.

A smell as damp and thick as breathing dirt came to him. He sneezed a few times, striding through a wide corridor toward the source of light at the end. Crates were piled high along the walls. Even on top, they were littered with odd things. Dusty vases and chairs. A mannequin arm. A thin paper screen painted with images of cherry blossoms. A harp with no strings. A wooden box full of doorknobs and hinges and keys.

He had explored every one of those crates the last time he’d come. Like everything at Marron’s, the bits and pieces stashed in the Navel had taught him about the world before the Unity. A world Vale had discovered years before him in the pages of books.

Perry followed the clutter to the end of the corridor, nodding to Roar and Marron as he entered a large room. A bank of computers took up one side. Most were ancient, but Marron had a few pieces of Dweller equipment, sleek as Aria’s Smarteye. There was also a wall-sized screen, like in the common room above. The image he saw on it was of the plateau they’d crossed before the final climb to Marron’s. The colors were odd and the image was murky, but he recognized the caped figures moving around tents.

“I had a microcamera set up,” Marron said from a wooden desk. He controlled the images on the wallscreen from a thin control palette. Aria’s Smarteye was on his desk on a thick black board that looked like a piece of granite. “It won’t last long with the Aether, but it’ll help us see what they’re doing until then.”

“They’re setting up to stay, that’s what they’re doing,” Roar said. He sat on the lone couch, his feet kicked up onto a small table. “Another ten added since the last count, I’d say. You’ve finally got a tribe following you, Per.”

“Thanks, Roar. But it’s not the kind I wanted.” Perry sighed. Would the Croven ever leave? How was he going to get out of here?

Marron guessed his thoughts. “Perry, there are old tunnels that run deeper into the mountain. Most of them are impassable, but we might find one that’s held up. I’ll have them explored in the morning.”

Perry knew Marron had meant to be reassuring, but it only made him feel worse for all the trouble he was creating. And tunnels? He dreaded to think of leaving that way. Just being in this room was making him sweat. But unless the Croven gave up and left, he couldn’t think of another way out of Delphi.

“What’s the news on the Smarteye?”

Marron’s fingers glided over the palette. The image on the wallscreen changed to a series of numbers. “By my estimate, I could have it decrypted and running in eighteen hours, twelve minutes, and twenty-nine seconds.”

Perry nodded. They’d have it sometime early tomorrow night.

“Perry, even if I can get it powered, I think the two of you should be prepared for any outcome. The Realms are even better protected than their Pods. Walls and energy shields are nothing by comparison. There may not be anything I can do to get you connected with Talon. Or to link Aria with her mother.”

“We have to try.”

“We will. We’ll try our best.”

Perry tipped his chin at Roar. “I need you.” Roar followed him without question. He explained what he wanted in the elevator.

“I thought you’d already gone to her,” Roar said.

Perry stared at the metal doors. “I haven’t. . . . I did, but I didn’t see her.”

Roar laughed. “And you want me to go?”

“Yes. You, Roar.” Was he going to have to explain that Aria talked to him more easily?

Roar leaned against the elevator and crossed his arms. “Remember that time I was trying to talk to Liv and I fell off the roof?”

In the cramped elevator car, he couldn’t escape picking up the shift in Roar’s temper. The scent of longing. He’d always hoped Roar and Liv would outgrow their crush, but they’d always been wrapped up in each other.

“I was talking to her through that hole in the timbers, remember that, Perry? She was up in the loft and it had just rained. I lost my balance and slid right off.”

“I remember you running away from my father with your pants around your ankles.”

“That’s right. I tore them on a tile on the way down. I don’t think I’d ever seen Liv laugh so much. Almost made me want to stop running just to see her like that. Hearing it was pretty good, though. Best sound in the world, Liv’s laugh.” Roar’s smile faded after a moment. “He was fast, your father.”

“He was stronger than he was fast.”

Roar didn’t say anything. He knew how it had been for Perry growing up.

“Was there a point to that story?” Perry stepped out as soon as the elevator doors parted. “Are you coming?”

“Fall off your own roof, Perry,” he said as the door slid closed.

The elevator dropped back to the Navel, carrying away the sound of Roar’s laughter.

Aria was sitting at the edge of the bed when Perry stepped into her room. Her arms were crossed low, over her stomach. Only the small lamp by the bedside was lit. The light came off the shade in a perfect triangle, falling across her folded arms. The room held her scent. Violets of early spring. The first bloom. He could’ve gotten lost in that scent if it weren’t for the dankness of her temper.

Perry closed the door behind him. This room was smaller than the one he’d been given to share with Roar. He saw nowhere to sit but the bed. Not that he felt like sitting. But he didn’t want to stand by the door, either.

She looked over, her eyes swollen from crying. “Did Marron send you again?”

“Marron? No . . . he didn’t.” He shouldn’t have come. Why had he closed the door like he’d meant to stay? Now leaving would be strange.

Aria wiped the tears from her face. “That night in Reverie? I was in Ag 6 trying to find out if she was all right. The link with Bliss was down, and I was so worried. When I saw the message from her, I thought she was fine.”

Perry stared at the empty space by her side. Just four steps away. Four steps that looked like a mile. He took them like he was going to launch himself off a cliff. The bed rocked as he sat. What was wrong with him?

He cleared his throat. “They were just rumors, Aria. The Auds just spread things.”

“It could be true.”

“But it could be false, too. Maybe only part of it is destroyed. Like the dome that night? It was crushed where I came in.”

She turned to the painting on the wall, lost in thought. “You’re right. The Pods are built to break down in parts. There are ways of containing damage.”

She pushed her hair behind her ear. “I just want to know. I don’t feel like she’s gone. . . . But what if she is? What if I should be mourning her right now? What if I do and she’s not? I’m so afraid of guessing it wrong. And I hate that I can’t do anything about it.”

He bent over his knees and pulled at the edge of his cast.

“This is what you’ve felt about Talon. Isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Exactly.” He’d been avoiding the fear that he might be doing everything in vain. That Talon was gone. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about that. What if Talon had died because of him? Where was Talon? Perry knew she understood. This Dweller girl knew what it was like to feel the torture of loving someone who was lost. Maybe gone forever.

“Marron says he’ll have the files and the link working by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she said.

The word hung in the quiet of the room. Perry drew a slow breath, working up the courage to say what he’d wanted to for days. Everything could change when they fixed the Smarteye. This could be his last chance to tell her.

“Aria . . . everyone feels lost and low. It’s how a person acts that makes them different. These last days you kept going despite those feet. Despite not knowing your way . . . Despite me.”

“I can’t tell if that was a compliment or an apology.”

He peered at her. “Both. I could’ve been kinder to you.”

“You could have at least said a little more.”

He smiled. “I don’t know about that.”

She laughed, and then her eyes turned serious. “I could have been kinder too.”

She scooted herself back against the headboard. Her dark hair fell straight to her shoulders, framing her small chin. Her pink lips turned up in a soft smile.

“I’ll forgive you on two conditions.”

Perry leaned back on his good arm and stole a look at her. Her body belonged in tight clothes, not in camos. He felt guilty looking, but he couldn’t help it. “Yeah? What are they?”

“First, tell me what your temper is like right now.”

He covered his surprised gasp with a cough. “My temper?” No way this was a good idea. He searched for a gentle way to say no. “I could try,” he said after a moment, and then pushed a hand through his hair, shocked at what he’d just agreed to do.

“All right. . . .” He fiddled with the edge of his cast. “Scents, the way I get them, are more than smells. They have weights and temperatures sometimes. Colors, too. I don’t think it’s like that for others. My bloodline on my father’s side is strong. Probably the strongest line of Scires.” He stopped himself, not wanting to sound boastful. He realized his thighs were flexed tight. “So, my temper right now is probably cool. And heavy. That’s what sorrow is like. Dark and thick, like stone. Like the scent coming off a wet rock.”

He glanced at her. She didn’t look like she wanted to laugh so he kept going. “There’d be more. Most of the time, a lot of times . . . there are a few scents in a temper. Nervous tempers are sharp scents. Like laurel leaves? Something bright and tingling like that? Nervous tempers are hard to ignore. So there’d be some of that probably.”

“Why are you nervous?”

Perry smiled down at his cast. “That question makes me nervous.” He made himself look at her. Looking at her wasn’t working either, so he pinned his gaze on the lamp. “I can’t do this, Aria.”

“Now you have an idea how it feels. How exposed I feel around you.”

Perry laughed. “That was tricky of you. You want to know what I’m nervous about now? That you have a second condition.”

“It’s not a condition. It’s more of a request.”

Every part of him was locked tight, waiting for what she’d say next.

Aria pulled the covers over her, hugging them close. “Will you stay? I think I’d sleep better if you stayed here tonight. Then we could miss them together.”

His impulse was to agree. She was beautiful sitting against the headboard, her skin looking smoother, softer than the sheets pulled up around her. But Perry hesitated.

Sleeping was the most dangerous thing a Scire could do with another person. Tempers mixed in the harmony of sleep. They tangled up, forming their own bonds. Scires became rendered that way, as had happened with him and Talon.

He didn’t know why he thought of this only now, but he didn’t need to worry. Scires seldom rendered to anyone outside their Sense. And she was a Dweller. The furthest thing from being a Scire. Besides, he’d been sleeping within feet of her for more than a week. What difference would another day make?

Perry’s eyes flicked to the soft carpet, then back to Aria. “I’ll be right here.”

Chapter 26
ARIA

Marron had a running countdown to when they could safely power up her Smarteye. He showed it to Aria in the morning, when he took her down to the Navel.

Seven hours, forty-three minutes, and twelve seconds.

It was an estimate, but Aria knew enough about Marron to take the numbers for their worth. The room was spare and cold compared to the rest of Delphi. A collection of computer equipment. A desk and a couch. It had a sacred air. She had the impression no one came down there except Marron. Aria noticed a vase of roses sitting on a little coffee table.

“You liked the other one so,” Marron said, beaming, then he quietly set to work on her Smarteye at his desk.

Aria sat on the couch, her stomach rolling with nerves. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the numbers on the wallscreen. Was the recording of Ag 6 still in the Eye? Was the “Songbird” file? Would she be able to find Lumina and Talon? Only an hour had passed when Marron invited her on a walk outside. She agreed right away. Her feet were still sore, but she’d go crazy down here all alone. Time had never moved more slowly.

She searched for Perry as they moved through Delphi’s halls. She’d stayed awake listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing during the night. But when she’d woken that morning, he hadn’t been there.

Aria immediately noticed a change in the courtyard as she stepped outside with Marron. Only a few people were moving about, compared with the bustle she’d seen when she stormed in with Cinder.

“Where is everyone?” Aria glanced at the sky. She’d seen much worse than the veinlike flows above.

Marron’s expression sobered. He looped her arm through his as they continued on the cobblestone path. “We had a few arrows over the wall early this morning from the Croven. They were careless shots fired before daylight. Aimed to strike fear more than anything else. In that, they were successful. I was hoping they’d have relaxed by now, but it appears . . .”

Marron trailed off as he looked toward Delphi. Rose and Slate hurried toward them, Rose’s dark braid swinging behind her. She was talking before she’d even stopped.

“The boy, Cinder, is gone.”

“He left through the east gate,” Slate added quickly. He looked furious with himself. “He was already out when the tower spotted him.”

Marron’s arm tensed around hers. “This is intolerable under the circumstances. It cannot happen. Who was on that post?” He strode off with Slate, still ranting.

Aria couldn’t believe it. After everything, after carrying him there, Cinder had gone? “Does Perry know?” she asked Rose.

“No, I don’t think so.” Rose pursed her lips in disapproval. Then she rolled her eyes. “You should try the roof first. That’s where he usually is.”

“Thank you,” Aria said, and then dashed for Delphi.

Rose called out behind her, teasing. “Your feet look like they’re healing!”

Aria took the elevator to the top of Delphi and stepped onto the roof, a vast stretch of cement with only a wooden rail framing the perimeter. Perry sat against it, gazing up at the Aether, his wounded arm propped onto his knee. He smiled when he saw her and strode over.

When he reached her, his smile fell. “What happened?”

“Cinder’s gone. He left. I’m sorry, Perry.”

His face tightened, and then he looked away and shrugged. “It’s all right. I didn’t even know him.” He was quiet for a moment. “Are you sure he’s gone? They looked for him?”

“Yes. The guards saw him leave.”

They walked to the edge of the roof. Perry propped his arms on the rail, lost in thought as he stared across the trees. Aria took in the long sweep of the wall, curving wide around Delphi. She saw the gate she’d run through just yesterday, and the towers, evenly spaced around the perimeter. Some seventy feet below, animal pens and gardens made neat geometric patterns of the courtyard. She’d just been down there.

“Who told you I was up here?” Perry asked. The disappointment had faded from his face.

“Rose.” Aria smiled. “She told me lots of things.”

He cringed. “She did? What did she say? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

“You really don’t.”

“Ahh . . . that’s cruel. Now you’re just kicking me while I’m down.”

She laughed and they fell quiet again. The silence between them felt good.

“Aria,” he said after a while. “I want to wait for the Smarteye with you but I can’t stay in the Navel. Not for long. Makes me skitty being that deep underground.”

“It makes you skitty?” For a lethal creature, sometimes he used words that struck her as utterly childish.

“Shaky? Like you can’t be still?”

She smiled. “Can I wait with you up here?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “I was hoping for that.” He threaded his legs beneath the wooden rail, letting them hang over the edge. Aria sat cross-legged beside him.

“This is my favorite place in Delphi. It’s the best spot to read the wind.”

She closed her eyes as a breeze swept past, searching for what he meant. She smelled smoke and pine on the cool wind. The skin along her arms tightened.

“How are your feet?” he asked.

“They’re still a little sore, but much better,” she said, moved by the simple question. With him, it wasn’t small talk. He was always looking after people. “Talon’s lucky to have an uncle like you,” she said.

He shook his head. “No. It’s my fault he was taken. I’m just trying to fix it. I’ve got no choice.”

“Why?”

“We’re rendered. There’s a bond between us through our tempers. I feel what he feels. I don’t just scent it. Same for him.”

She couldn’t imagine being linked with a person that way. She thought of what both Roar and Rose had said about Scires keeping to their kind.

Perry leaned forward, crossing his arms over the rail. “Being away from him, it’s like part of me is gone.”

“We’ll find him, Perry.”

He rested his chin on the rail. “Thanks,” he said, his eyes fixed on the courtyard below.

Aria’s gaze moved to his arm. He’d pushed his sleeves up above his elbows because of the cast. A strong vein laced the swell of his bicep. One of his Markings was a band of angled slashes. The other was made of flowing lines like waves. She had the urge to touch them. Her eyes trailed up to his profile, following the small rise at the top of his nose, finding the thin scar at the edge of his lip. Maybe she wanted to touch more than his arm.

Perry’s head snapped over to her and she realized he knew. Heat bloomed across her cheeks. He’d scent her embarrassment, too.

She scooted to the edge and swung her legs over the side of the roof like him and tried to look interested in the goings-on below. The courtyard showed more signs of life. People were moving here and there. A man split firewood with practiced thwacks of an ax. A dog barked at a young girl who held something high, out of its reach. As much as she concentrated on what she saw, she still felt Perry’s attention on her.

“What are you going to do after you find Talon?” she asked, switching tactics.

He relaxed over the rail again. “I’ll get him home, then form my own tribe.”

“How?”

“It’s a matter of winning men. You get one who’s either willing or forced to follow your lead. Then another and so on. Until you have a group big enough to stake out some land. Fight for it, if need be.”

“How are they forced?”

“In a challenge. Winner either spares the loser’s life and earns fealty that way, or . . . what you’d imagine.”

“I see,” Aria said. Fealty. Allies. Oaths taken at the point of death. They were ordinary concepts in his life.

“Maybe I’ll head north,” he continued. “See if I can find my sister and get her to the Horns. Maybe I can fix that ruffle before it’s too late. And I want to see what I can find about the Still Blue.”

Aria wondered where that would leave him and Roar. It didn’t seem fair to keep two people who loved each other apart.

“What about you?” he asked. “When we find your mother, will you go back to those virtual places? The Realms?”

She liked the way he’d said Realms. Slow and resonant. She liked even better the way he’d said when we find your mother. Like it would happen. Like it was inevitable.

“I think I’ll get back to singing. It was always something my mother made me do. I never . . . I never really wanted to sing. Now I have the urge to do it. Songs are stories.” She smiled. “Maybe I’ve got my own stories to tell now.”

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“You’ve been thinking about my voice?”

“Yeah.” He gave a shrug that managed to seem both shy and offhand. “Since that first night.”

Aria had to rein in a ridiculously proud smile. “That was from Tosca. An ancient Italian opera.” The song was for a male tenor. When Aria sang it, she brought it up just enough to get it into her range, but still kept its lost, mournful quality. “It’s about a man, an artist who’s been sentenced to die, and he’s singing about the woman he loves. He doesn’t think he’ll ever see her again. It’s my mother’s favorite aria.” She smiled. “Besides me.”

Perry pulled his legs around and sat against the rail, an expectant smile on his face.

Aria laughed. “Seriously? Here?”

“Seriously.”

“All right. . . . I have to stand. It’s better if I stand.”

“Then stand.”

Perry rose to his feet with her, leaning his hip against the rail. His smile was distracting, so she gazed up at the Aether for a few moments, breathing the cool air into her lungs as anticipation stirred inside of her. She’d missed this.

The lyrics flowed out of her, springing straight from her heart. Words full of drama and wild abandon that had always embarrassed her before, because who flung themselves at raw emotion like that?

She did it now.

She let the words fly across the roof and past the trees. She lost herself in the aria, letting it carry her off. But even as she sang, she knew the man below had stopped cutting wood and the dog had stopped barking. Even the trees hushed to hear her sing. When she was done, she had tears in her eyes. She wished her mother could’ve heard her. She’d never sounded better.

Perry closed his eyes when she was finished. “You have a voice as sweet as your scent,” he said, his words deep and quiet. “Sweet as violets.”

Her heart stopped in her chest. He thought she had a scent like violets? “Perry . . . do you want to know the words?”

His eyes flew open. “Yes.”

She took a moment to think through the lyrics, and then to muster up the courage to tell him—everything—without looking away.

“How the stars shone. How sweet the earth smelled. The orchard gate creaked, and a footstep pressed on the sand. And she entered, fragrant as a flower, and fell into my arms. Oh, sweet kisses, lingering caresses. Slowly, trembling, I gazed upon her beauty. Now my dream of true love is lost forever. My last hour has flown, and I die, hopeless, and never have I loved life more.”

They reached for each other then like some force had pulled their hands together. Aria looked at their fingers as they laced together, bringing her the sensation of his touch. Of warmth and calluses. Soft and hard together. She absorbed the terror and beauty of him and his world. Of every moment over the past days. All of it, filling her up like the first breath she’d ever taken. And never had she loved life more.

Chapter 27

ARIA

When she went back to the Navel with Perry, only forty-seven minutes remained on the time counter. Roar was at the control table with Marron. She had a vague notion of them speaking together quietly, and of Perry pacing behind the couch. She couldn’t focus on anything beyond the numbers on the screen.

Mom, she pleaded silently. Be there. Please be there. I need you.

Perry and I need you.

She expected fanfare when the counter reached zero. An alarm or some sort of noise. There was nothing. Not even a sound.

“I have the two files here,” Marron said. “Both stored locally on the Smarteye.”

Marron pulled them up on the wallscreen. One file had a date and a timer on it. The readout showed twenty-one minutes of recorded time. The other was labeled SONGBIRD.

Aria didn’t have any memory of Perry joining her on the couch or taking her hand. She didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed. Now that she did, he felt like the only thing keeping her from drifting off the couch.

They’d decided to check the files before trying to contact Lumina. Aria asked to see the recording first. This was the file they both needed. Barter for Talon. Evidence that would clear her name. Then she braced herself for fire and Soren. For the sounds of Paisley dying. She couldn’t believe she actually wanted it to be there.

A smoldering forest appeared on the wallscreen. Paisley’s panicked voice burst across the room. Images Aria had seen through her eyes played out on the screen. Her feet blurring beneath her. Flashes of Paisley’s hand linked with hers. Shuddering images of fire and smoke and trees. When it came to Soren grabbing Paisley’s leg, Perry spoke at her side. “You don’t have to watch all of it.”

She blinked at him, feeling like she’d stepped out of a trance. There were still six minutes left, but she knew how the recording ended. “That’s enough.”

The wallscreen went dark and silence came. They had the recording. It should have felt more like a victory, but Aria felt like crying. She could still hear the echo of Paisley’s voice.

“I need to see the other file,” she said.

Marron selected “Songbird.” Lumina’s face took up most of the wallscreen. Her shoulders reached from one end of the room to the other. Marron adjusted the image to half the size, but she remained larger than human.

“That’s my mother,” she heard herself say.

Lumina smiled at the camera. A quick, nervous smile. Her dark hair was fastened as she always wore it, pulled back from her face. Behind her there were rows of shelves with labeled boxes. She was in some sort of supply room.

“This is strange speaking to a camera and pretending it’s you. But I know it’s you, Aria. I know you’ll be watching this and listening.”

Her voice was loud, everywhere in the room. She reached up and smoothed the collar of her doctor’s smock.

“We’re in trouble here. Bliss has suffered serious damage in an Aether storm. The Consuls estimate forty percent of the Pod has been contaminated, but generators are failing and the number seems to be climbing every hour. The CGB has promised help. We’re waiting for them. We haven’t given up. Neither should you, Aria.

“I wanted to tell you when it happened, but the CGB shut down our link with other Pods. They don’t want panic spreading. But I found a way, I hope, to get this message to you. I know you must be worried.”

Aria’s heart had stopped beating. Lumina sat back. Her hands were offscreen but Aria knew they’d be folded in her lap.

“I need to tell you something else, Aria. Something you’ve wanted to know about for so long. My work.” She sent a fleeting smile toward the camera. “You must be happy to hear that.

“I have to begin with the Realms. The CGB created them to give us the illusion of space when we were forced into Pods during the Unity. They were only meant to be copies of the world we left behind, as you know, but the possibilities proved to be too enticing. So we gave ourselves the ability to fly. To travel from a snowcap to a beach with a single thought. And why feel pain if you don’t have to? Why feel the brunt of real fear if there’s no danger of becoming hurt? We increased what we deemed good and removed the bad. Those are the Realms as you know them. Better than Real, as they say.”

Lumina stared at the camera a few moments. Then she reached forward, pressing something beyond the camera’s view. A colorful scan of the human brain appeared in a quadrant over her left shoulder.

“The central area in blue is the oldest portion of the brain, Aria. It’s called the limbic system. It controls many of our most basic processes. Our drive to mate. Our comprehension of stress and fear and reaction to it. Our quick decision-making capability. We say a gut reaction, but actually these reflexes come from here. Simply put, this is our animal mind. Over generations in the Realms, the usefulness of this part of our brain has vastly diminished. What do you think, Daughter, happens to something that goes unused for time too long?”

Aria let out a sob, because this was her mother. This was how she’d always taught her, asking her questions. Letting her form her own answers.

“It’s lost,” Aria said.

Lumina nodded as though she’d heard her. “It degenerates. This has catastrophic consequences when we do need to rely on instinct. Pleasure and pain become confused. Fear can become thrilling. Rather than avoid stress, we seek it and even revel in it. The will to give life becomes the need to take it. The result is a collapse of reason and cognition. Put simply, it results in a psychotic break.”

Lumina paused. “I have spent my life studying this disorder, Degenerative Limbic Syndrome. When I began my work two decades ago, incidents of DLS were isolated and minor. No one believed it would amount to a real threat. But in the past three years the Aether storms have intensified at an alarming rate. They damage our Pods and cut off our link to the Realms. Generators fail. Backups fail. . . . We’re left in dire situations that we’re incapable of handling. Entire Pods have fallen to DLS. I think you can imagine, Aria, the anarchy of six thousand trapped people who have come under this syndrome. I see it around me now.”

She looked away from the camera for a moment, hiding her face.

“You will hate me for what I will say next, but I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again. And I can’t hold this knowledge from you anymore. My work has led me to research Outsiders in search of genetic solutions. They don’t have the dangerous response we do to stress and fear. In fact, what I’ve seen is the reverse effect. The CGB makes arrangements for us to bring them into our facility. That’s how I met your father. I work with Outsider children now. It’s easier for me after what happened.”

Aria’s heart tightened and tightened, twisting, the pain unbearable.

This couldn’t be happening.

She was not an Outsider.

It couldn’t be true.

Lumina reached up, pressing her fingers to her lips as if she couldn’t believe what she’d said. Then she brought her hands back down. When she spoke again, her voice was hurried and raw with emotion.

“I never viewed you as being inferior in any way. The Outsider half of you is the part I love most. It’s your tenacity. Your curiosity about my research and the Realms. I know your fire comes from that part of you.

“You’ll have a thousand questions, I’m sure. What I haven’t shared is for your own protection.” She paused, giving the camera a teary smile. “And it’s always better, isn’t it, when you discover answers on your own?”

Lumina reached forward, ready to shut off the recording. Her pained expression filled the screen. She hesitated and sat back, her small shoulders shifting nervously, her petite frame rocking, like she couldn’t stop herself. Seeing her that way, tears streamed from Aria’s eyes.

“Do me a favor, Songbird? Sing the aria for me? You know which one. You sing it so beautifully. Wherever I am, I know I’ll hear it. Good-bye, Aria. I love you.”

The screen went dark.

Aria had no limbs.

No heart.

No thoughts.

Perry appeared in front of her, his eyes flashing with rage and hurt. What had just happened? What had Lumina just said? She studied Outsider children?

Like Talon?

Perry picked up the small coffee table, upending the vase of roses. With a guttural cry, he hurled the table at the wallscreen. The vase broke first with a hollow pop at her feet. Then the screen shattered with a terrible explosion of glass.

Long after he’d left, shards still rained on the floor.

She watched her mother’s message three more times in the upstairs common room. Marron stayed with her, patting her knee and making soft comforting sounds.

She looked down at the handkerchief wadded in her hand. Her heart ached, like it was ripping inside of her. The pain only seemed to get worse.

“It happened in Ag 6,” she said to Marron. “This thing. DLS.” Aria remembered Soren’s wide, glazed eyes as he’d stared at the fire. How intent Bane and Echo had been. How even Paisley had been afraid the trees might fall on her. “The only difference is that we shut off on purpose that night.”

Aria pressed her eyes closed, fighting the image of the chaos in Ag 6 on a grand scale. A Pod-wide riot where her mother was. A thousand Sorens starting fires and ripping off Smarteyes. What chance did Lumina have, between the Aether and DLS?

Marron’s eyes were full of compassion. He looked worn from the day, his hair mussed, his shirt wrinkled and damp from when he’d held her and let her cry. “Your mother knew about this condition. She sent you this message. She had to have been prepared for something like this.”

“You’re right. She would have. She’s always prepared.”

“Aria, we can try the Smarteye now. If you’re ready, we can try getting you into the Realms. We might be able to reach her.”

She nodded to Marron quickly, her eyes filling again. She wanted to see her mother. To know she was alive, but what would she say? Lumina had kept so much from her. She’d kept Aria from knowing herself.

She was half Outsider.

Half.

She felt that way. Like half of her had just disappeared.

Marron brought her the Smarteye. Aria’s hands shook as she held it. “What if there’s nothing? What if I can’t get her?”

“You can stay here as long as you like.”

He said it so quickly, so readily. Aria looked into his round, kind face. “Thank you.” She couldn’t speak the next question that came to her mind.

What if I find out she took Talon?

She needed to know. Aria placed the Smarteye over her left eye. The device pulled uncomfortably tight on her skin. She saw the two local files on her Smartscreen. Soren’s recording. Her mother’s message.

She ran through the mental commands to bring up the Realms as Marron monitored everything on the palette on his lap.

WELCOME TO THE REALMS! flashed across her Smartscreen, followed by BETTER THAN REAL!

After a few moments, another message appeared.

ACCESS DENIED

She took the Eye off quickly, not wanting to see those words. “Marron, we failed. I’m not going to go home. Perry’s not getting Talon back.”

He squeezed her hand. “It’s not the end of the road yet. It didn’t work for you, but I have something else in mind.”

Chapter 28

PEREGRINE

The Croven were chanting when Perry strode out to the roof. He braced the rail with his good hand and looked out across the pine forest, listening to the distant ringing of their bells. His legs twitched with the need to run. To escape. Even now, with nothing between him and the sky, he felt trapped.

It couldn’t be true. He had blamed himself for Talon’s kidnapping. He’d taken the Smarteye, and the Dwellers had come after him. Now he wondered—was it possible the Dwellers had Talon for an experiment? Was he suffering at the hands of Aria’s mother? A woman who stole innocent children?

He yanked an arrow from his quiver and fired it toward the Croven, not caring that he was too far. That he couldn’t even see them. Cursing, he loosed one arrow after another, letting them sail over the wall and past the treetops. Then he slumped against the elevator box, cradling his throbbing hand.

He spent the rest of the night staring at the Aether, thinking of Talon and Cinder and Roar and Liv. How everything was about searching and missing. How none of it was coming together the way it should. By dawn, with daylight creeping to meet the Aether, all he could think about was Aria’s face as her world had shifted around her. It had torn her open to learn she was like him. He’d scented it. Her temper had slammed into him, fire and ice, shooting into his nose. Straight to his gut.

He couldn’t have slept more than an hour when Roar came up to the roof. He perched on the rail with the cat’s balance of an Aud, no trace of fear at the huge drop behind him. He crossed his arms, a cold edge in his eyes.

“She didn’t know about the work her mother does, Perry. You saw her. She was just as stunned as you.”

Perry sat up and rubbed his tired eyes. His muscles were stiff and sore from sleeping on cement. “What do you want, Roar?” he asked.

“I’m delivering a message. Aria said to come down if you want to see Talon.”

Aria and Marron were in the common room when he and Roar got there.

She rose from the couch when she saw him. Purple shadows darkened the skin beneath her eyes. Perry couldn’t help but breathe in deeply, searching the room for her temper. He found it. The hurt she felt. A deep, raw thing. Anger and shame at being an Outsider. At being a Savage, like him.

“This is working now,” she said, holding out her Smarteye. “I tried it but I couldn’t get into the Realms. My signature didn’t work. They’ve blocked me.”

Perry’s knees almost buckled. That was it. He’d lost his chance to find Talon. Then why had they brought him down here? Confused, he turned to Roar and found him fighting a smile.

“I can’t,” Aria said, “but you might be able to, Perry.”

“Me?”

“Yes. They’ve only blocked me. The Eye still works. I can’t go in. But you might be able to.”

Marron nodded. “The device reads a signature in two ways. DNA and brain pattern recognition. Aria’s signature was denied right away. But with you, I can try to create some static, some noise in the authentication process. We ran some tests overnight. I think we could steal some time before you’re identified as an unauthorized user. It could work.”

It made no sense to him. All he heard was the last bit. It could work.

“My mother’s file had the security codes to her research,” Aria said. “If Talon’s there, we might be able to find him.”

Perry swallowed hard. “I can find Talon?”

“We can try.”

“When?”

Marron raised his eyebrows. “Now.”

Perry headed to the elevator, suddenly weightless on his legs, until Marron held his hand up. “Wait, Peregrine. It’s better if we do this up here.”

Perry froze. He’d forgotten about what he did downstairs. Shamed, he had to force himself to hold Marron’s gaze. “I can’t fix it. But I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

Marron didn’t answer for a long moment. Then he tipped his head. “No need to, Peregrine. One day I think I’ll be glad you owe me a favor.”

Perry nodded, accepting the agreement, and strode to one of the display cases on the rear wall. He pretended to observe a painting of a lone boat moored on a gray beach as he tried to collect himself. He’d made more than a few promises lately. I’ll find Talon. I’ll get Aria home. What had he done but bring a tribe of cannibals to Marron’s door and then break a valuable piece of equipment? How could Marron have faith in him?

Behind him, Aria and Marron talked about the problems of presenting him with the task of gliding through something he wasn’t even sure he understood. Perry had begun to sweat. It rolled down his spine, along his ribs.

“You all right, Perry?” Roar said.

“Hand hurts,” he said, lifting his arm. It wasn’t entirely a lie. They all looked at him, then at the dirty cast like they’d forgotten about it. Perry couldn’t blame them. If it didn’t hurt so badly, he’d probably have forgotten about it too.

Within a few minutes, Rose arrived and pulled Aria aside, speaking with her quietly. Rose handed Aria a metal case and left.

Aria sat next to Perry on one of the couches. He watched her cut through the cast on his left hand, her fingers trembling slightly. He drew in her temper. She was just as scared as he was about what they’d find in the Realms. And he knew Roar was right. She hadn’t known anything. Not the truth about herself, or about her mother’s work.

Perry remembered what she’d said in her room.

We could miss them together.

She’d been right. It had been easier with her. Perry placed his right hand on hers.

“Are you all right?” he whispered. It wasn’t what he wanted to know. Of course she wasn’t all right. What he wanted to know was if the together part still mattered to her. Because even though he was confused and sorry and angry, it still mattered to him.

She looked up and nodded, and he knew she agreed. Whatever else came, they’d face it together.

His hand looked more like a hand. The swelling had gone down. The blisters had flattened. The patches that looked wrinkled and dark worried him most, but he could move his fingers and that was all he’d hoped for. He sneezed at the caustic scent of the gel Aria spread over the charred skin, and then he sweat even more at the cool burn that seeped deep into his knuckles. It was a strange thing, sitting on a silk couch and sweating in place. Not something he liked.

Marron came over as Aria rewrapped his hand with a soft bandage. He moved to put the Smarteye on him and then handed it to Aria. “Perhaps you can do it.”

First Rose. Now Marron. Perry could no longer deny that it was common knowledge. Aria was the safest path to him. He wondered what he had done that sent that message so loudly. Wondered how after a lifetime of scenting others’ feelings, he could be so poor at shielding his own.

Aria took the device. “We’re going to do the biotech first—just applying the device. You’ll feel pressure, like it’s sucking up your skin. But it lets up and then the inner membrane will soften. You’ll be able to blink again when that happens.”

Perry nodded stiffly. “Right. Pressure. Can’t be that bad.”

Could it?

He held his breath as Aria brought the clear patch to his left eye, digging his fingers into the soft arm of the couch as he struggled to keep from blinking.

“You can close your eyes. It might help,” Aria said. He did and saw a shimmer of stars telling him he was about to pass out.

“Peregrine.” Aria placed her hand on his forearm. “It’s all right.”

He focused on her cool touch. Imagined her delicate, pale fingers. When the pressure came, he sucked in a breath through his teeth. The force reminded him of an undertow. How it felt bearable at first, but then came stronger and stronger until you feared being carried off. On the edge of pain, it let up suddenly, leaving him panting.

Perry opened his eyes, blinked a few times. It felt similar to walking with one shoe. Feeling and movement on one side. On the other, a heavy sense of protection. He could see clearly through the eyepiece, but he noticed differences. Colors were too bright. The depth of things seemed off. He shook his head, clenching his teeth at the added weight on his face. “Now what?”

“A moment, a moment.” Marron fuddled with the palette as Roar watched over his shoulder.

“We’ll go to a forested Realm first,” Aria told him. “There won’t be anyone else there and it’ll give you a few seconds to adjust. We can’t have you calling attention to yourself once you’re in the CGB’s research Realms, and we’ll have to move fast. While you’re getting used to fractioning, Marron will check to see if the link with Bliss is back. He’ll do all the navigating for you. Everything you see, we’ll see on the wallscreen.”

Ten different questions popped into his mind. He forgot them all when Aria smiled and said, “You look handsome.”

“What?” He couldn’t think about a comment like that now.

“Ready, Peregrine?” Marron said.

“Yes,” he answered, though everything in his body said No.

A hot sting ran up his spine and over his scalp, ending with a burst in the back of his nose. On his right, he saw the common room. Aria staring at him with concern. Roar close over her shoulder, bracing the back of the couch. Marron saying, “Easy, Peregrine,” over and over. On his left a wooded evergreen forest appeared. The scent of pine burned deep into his nostrils. The images blurred and flashed before his eyes. Perry looked one way and the other, but he couldn’t make anything stick. Dizziness came hard and fast.

Aria squeezed his hand. “Calm down, Perry.”

“What’s going on? What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing. Just try to relax.”

The images shook before his eyes. Trees. Aria’s hand grasping his. Pine branches swaying. Roar leaping over the couch to stand in front of him. Nothing was still. Everything moved.

“Take this thing off. Take it off!”

He pulled at the Smarteye, forgetting to use his good hand. He couldn’t get it off. Pain burst across the back of his burnt hand, but it was nothing compared to the daggers that stabbed deep into his skull. Saliva coursed into his mouth in a warm rush. He shot to his feet and darted to the bathroom. Or thought he had, because he was dodging trees as well as walls, and poorly at that. He ran smack into something hard, shoulders and head connecting with a solid thud. Roar caught him as he fell back. They exploded into the bathroom together, Roar holding him upright, for Perry no longer trusted his balance.

He felt cold beneath his hands. Porcelain. No more trees.

“I’ve got it.”

He was alone with the toilet now and that was how he stayed for a good long while.

When it was over, he pulled his shirt off and draped it over his head. It hung heavy and damp with his sweat. He still felt dizzy and queasy, like he was coming off the worst seasickness he could imagine. How long had he lasted in the Realms? Three seconds? Four? How would he find Talon?

Aria sat beside him. He couldn’t summon the courage to come out from hiding. A glass of water appeared in front of him.

“I felt the same way when I first came to your world.”

“Thank you,” he said, and drained it.

“Are you all right?”

He wasn’t. Perry took her hand and turned his face into her palm, resting his cheek. He breathed in her violet scent, drawing strength from it. Letting it settle the trembling in his muscles. Aria’s thumb ran back and forth over his jaw, making a soft brushing sound over his scruff. There was something dangerous about this. About the power of her scent on him. But he couldn’t think about it. This was what he needed now.

“How’d you like the Realms?” Roar asked.

Perry peered from beneath his shirt. Roar stood at the bathroom door, and he could see Marron out in the hall.

“Not very much. Try again?” he said, though he seriously doubted whether he could manage it.

When he returned to the common room, the lighting had been dimmed. Someone had brought in a fan. The efforts embarrassed him even though he found they did help settle his nerves. Perry tried to explain what he felt.

“You need to try to forget about here,” Aria said. “About this physical space. Turn your focus toward the Smarteye and it’ll start to feel right.”

Perry nodded like that made sense, as she and Marron continued to instruct him. Relax. Try this. Or maybe try that.

Then Roar said, “Per, act like you’re sighting down the length of an arrow.”

He could do that. Shooting an arrow had nothing to do with his stance or his bow or his arms. Not for a decade had he thought about any of those things. He thought only of his target.

They brought up the forest again. The images battled for his attention like before, but Perry imagined aiming at a curled piece of bark that shuddered past. The woods fixed around him, bringing a sudden, shocking stillness. Somehow the others must have known because he heard Marron say, “Yes.”

The longer he focused on the woods, the more he felt them settling in place. Perry’s body cooled under the current of a soft breeze, but this wasn’t from the fan. This breeze carried a pine scent. Cone pine, though all he saw were spruces. And the odor was too strong. He scented fresh sap, not just the breath of the trees. The air held no traces of human or animal scents, or even the cluster of mushrooms he spotted at the base of a tree.

“The same but different, right?”

He turned, looking for Aria in the woods. “It sounds like you’re in my head.”

“I’m next to you out here. Try to walk, Perry. Take a few more seconds.”

He found that doing so took only the thought of walking. It wasn’t like being in his own skin. He was still dizzy and unsure, but he was moving, one step after the other. He was in the woods now. It should’ve felt like home, but his body held on to the feeling he’d had since he’d come to Marron’s. The same feeling that drove him up to the roof at every chance.

Then he remembered something and knelt quickly. With his good hand, he swept aside the dry pine needles and scooped up a handful of dirt. It was dark and loose and fine. Not the hard-pack earth he usually saw in pine forests. Perry shook his hand, letting the dirt sift through his fingers until a few rocks rested in his palm.

“Do you see?” Aria said softly.

He did. “Our rocks are better.”

Chapter 29

ARIA

On the wallscreen, Aria watched through Perry’s eyes as he stood and brushed dirt from his palms like it was real. Like it would stay with him.

Aria met Marron’s gaze. He shook his head, his signal to her that he hadn’t detected a link to Bliss. She wouldn’t find Lumina today. She’d been prepared for that. Aria pushed down the blow of disappointment. They had to find Talon.

“We’re going to take you into the research Realms, Perry. It’s a little strange hopping to another Realm. . . . Just try to stay calm.”

DLS 16 appeared in red lettering on an icon, suspended in front of the woods. She and Marron had spent the night hacking into her mother’s files, organizing everything. She knew Perry couldn’t read, so Marron was controlling Perry’s location through the palette. Perry turned his head, the icon tracking with his movement.

“Here we go, Peregrine,” Marron said.

Perry swore at her side as the image on the wallscreen rearranged itself into a tidy office. A small red couch with neat proportions and square cushions sat opposite the desk. A fat fern rested on a low coffee table. To one side of the office, a glass door gave to a courtyard with boxwood hedges and a fountain at the center. To the other, evenly spaced along the wall, there were four doors: Lab, Conference, Research, Subjects.

Aria felt light-headed. She’d never seen her mother’s office before. Her gaze lingered on the empty chair behind the desk. How many hours had Lumina spent in that chair?

“Perry, step through the fourth door,” she told him. “The one on the right. Subjects.”

He walked through it, arriving at the end of a long corridor lined on both sides with more doors. He ran to the nearest one.

“Amber.” Aria read the name on the small screen. He moved on to the next. “Brin.” And then to the next. “Clara.”

Perry didn’t move. He stayed in front of the door marked CLARA. Aria couldn’t tell what was happening. She was looking through his eyes. She couldn’t see his face in the Realms. Beside her, he looked calm but she knew he wasn’t. “What’s going on?” she asked.

Roar cursed at her side. “She’s one of us. A girl who disappeared from the Tides last year.”

Marron sent her an urgent look. “Aria, he has to keep going. We have little time.”

Perry sprinted now, past Jasper. Past Rain. To Talon. He burst through the door, into a room with walls covered with animated drawings of soaring hawks, swirling blue skies, and fishing boats casting in the sea. Two comfortable stuffed chairs sat at the center. They were empty.

“Where is he?” Perry asked desperately. “Aria, what have I done wrong?”

“I’m not sure.” She had thought that opening the door would summon the children into that Realm, but she didn’t know. All of this was new.

She was right. Talon fractioned at that moment, appearing on one of the chairs. His eyes flew open and he shot across the room, away from Perry.

“Who are you?” he said. He had a commanding voice for such a young boy. A voice full of fire and daring. He was a rangy little thing. He had green eyes, the color deeper than Perry’s, and dark brown hair that fell in the same twisting locks. He was a striking child.

“Talon, it’s me.”

Talon peered at him suspiciously. “How do I know?”

“Talon . . . Aria, why doesn’t he know me?”

She scrambled for an answer. These were the Realms. You could never trust anything. It was too easy to become something else. Someone else. Talon knew that already. “Tell him something,” she said, but it was too late.

Perry was wild, cursing. He turned to the door. “How do I get him out of here?”

“You can’t. You’re with him only in the Realms. He’s somewhere else. Ask him where he is. Ask him anything else you want to know. Quickly, Perry.”

Perry dropped onto one knee, his eyes falling to his burnt hand. “He should know me,” he said under his breath.

Talon came closer, tentative. “What happened to your hand?”

Perry wiggled his swollen fingers. “You could call it a mix-up.”

“Looks like it was bad. . . . Did you win?”

“If you were really Talon, you wouldn’t ask me that.”

Aria knew Perry had smiled at his nephew. She could picture his crooked smile, a blend of shy and fierce.

Recognition sparked in the boy’s eyes, but he didn’t move.

“Talon, it looks like you, but I can’t get your temper.”

“There’re no tempers in here,” he said, full of righteousness. “All the scents are off.”

“That’s eight. They’re faded but strong. . . . Squeak, it’s me.”

The suspicion left the boy’s face and he threw himself against Perry.

Aria watched Perry’s hand on the wallscreen, stroking the back of Talon’s head. “I was so worried about you, Tal.” Beside her, on the couch, he shifted, dropping his head into his hands. He was growing used to being in the two places at once. Aria put her hand on his shoulder.

Talon squirmed out of the embrace. “I wanted you to come.”

“I got here as soon as I could.”

“I know,” Talon said. With a gap-toothed grin, he reached out for a tendril of Perry’s hair and rubbed the streaked gold between his thin little fingers. Aria had never seen anything so tender in all her life.

Perry took him by the shoulders. “Where are you?”

“In the Dweller Pod.”

“Which one, Talon?”

“Rev. That’s what the kids here call it.”

Perry patted Talon’s arms, took hold of his chin, touching his small neck. “They’re not hur”—Perry’s voice caught—“hurting you?”

“Hurting me? I get fruit three times a day. I can run in here. Fast. I can even fly, Uncle Perry. All we do is go around in these Realms. They even got hunting Realms, but a lot of them are too easy. You just—”

“Talon, I’m going to get you out of here. I’ll find a way.”

“I don’t want to leave.”

Perry’s shoulder tensed beneath Aria’s hand.

“This isn’t where you belong,” Perry said.

“But I feel good here. The doc says I need medicine every day. It makes my eyes water, but my legs don’t even ache anymore.”

Aria exchanged a worried look with Roar and Marron.

“You want to stay?” Perry said.

“Yeah, now that you’re here.”

“I’m still on the outside. I’m only here this once.”

“Oh . . .” Talon’s lower lip pushed out in disappointment. “It’s good for the tribe, I guess.”

“I’m not with the Tides.”

Talon frowned. “Then who’s Blood Lord?”

“Your father, Talon.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s here with me.”

Beside Aria, on the couch, Perry’s body jerked. Roar hissed nearby.

“Vale’s there?” Perry asked. “He was captured?”

“You didn’t know? He was trying to come rescue me and they got him. I’ve seen him a couple of times. We’ve gone hunting together. Clara’s here too.”

“They caught your father?” Perry asked again.

Marron sat up sharply. “They’ve found him! We need to shut off.”

Perry yanked Talon against him. “I love you, Talon. I love you.”

The drawing of a hawk flying against the Aether sky flickered out.

The screen went dark.

For a second, no one moved. Then the couch shook as Perry jolted back, cursing. “Get this thing off!”

“You have to do it, Perry. You need to be still—”

He was gone, across the room in a few strides. He stopped in front of the wallscreen and dropped to his knees. Aria didn’t think. She went to him, wrapping her arms around him. Perry cinched her into his own arms, uttering a strangled sound as he buried his head into her neck. His body was a tight coil of pain around her, his tears cool feathers on her skin.

Chapter 30

PEREGRINE

Aria guided him upstairs and pulled him into her room. Perry had a vague thought that maybe he shouldn’t be there, but his feet never slowed. He walked in and sat heavily on the bed. Aria turned on the lamp, keeping the light dim. Then she sat beside him and wove her fingers through his.

Perry flexed the fingers of his wounded hand. The surge of pain felt reassuring.

He was still there.

He could still feel.

“Talon didn’t look harmed,” he said after a while. “He looked all right.”

“He did.” She bit her lip, frowning in thought. “I knew they wouldn’t be hurting him. I knew my mother would never do that. We’re not cruel.”

“Taking innocent kids isn’t cruel? They have Talon, Aria! And my brother. They don’t belong there. They’re not Moles.”

Right away he knew it was a stupid thing to say. She’d been kicked out of her home. Cut off from everyone, even her mother. Where did she belong? A cold wave rolled through him. Perry winced, not sure if he’d inhaled her temper or if it was his own regret, his own sorrow. “Aria, I shouldn’t have said that.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything. Just stared at their joined hands. Perry drew in a breath. Her sweet violet scent was everywhere. His gaze drifted to the smooth skin along her neck. He wanted to breathe there, just below her ear.

“He’s a lot like you, Perry. The way he moves. The way he acts. He adores you.”

“Thank you.” His throat began to tighten as he thought of Talon. He let go of her hand and lay back on the bed. Dropped his arm across his face. He’d just been wrapped up with her in front of the wallscreen. The bandage on his hand was still damp with their tears. But it felt different now. He didn’t want her seeing him like this.

She surprised him by lying down next to him, resting her head on the same pillow. Perry’s heart started pounding. He peered over at her. “I haven’t even asked how you feel.”

She smiled sadly. “That’s a funny question.”

“I mean what you’re thinking.”

Aria stared up at the ceiling, her eyes narrowing in thought. “A lot of things make sense now. I thought I was going to die when I was dropped out here. Everything felt wrong. Being in pain. Being lost and alone.”

Perry shut his eyes, pulled into the feeling of what it must have been like. He’d been there. He’d scented her fear and grief. He’d known it then. He felt it now.

“Now what I feel most is this . . . this relief. I know why I’m alive. And why my body started changing. Now . . . it’s like I have the day ahead of me again. Like I can take a breath and know for sure it’s about living. But there’s so much more I need to work out. I never thought my mother would be capable of lying to me. I can’t figure out how she did it.” She turned her head, looking at him. “How do you hurt someone you love like that?”

“People can be cruelest to those they love.” He saw a flicker in her eyes. A question he didn’t want her to ask. Not now, when he was raw like this. Not ever. But then her curiosity faded and he let out his breath.

“You don’t hate it, then?” he asked after a while. “Knowing you’re half . . . Savage?”

“How could I hate what’s kept me alive?”

He had no doubt the words were meant for him. Without thinking, he reached for her hand. Tucked it against his chest, feeling that was where it should be. Her eyes went from their hands to his Markings. Perry’s heart slammed against his ribs. She had to feel it.

“Will you be the Tides’ Blood Lord?” she asked.

“I will.” His own words amazed him. He’d wanted to be Blood Lord for so long. He’d never have imagined it happening this way. But he knew in every part of him that he needed to go home and win the right to lead the Tides. They couldn’t spend the winter hungry, with infighting and people vying for Blood Lord. They’d need him. Then he remembered the Croven, camped in the plateau. Waiting for him. How would he get out of Marron’s before winter came?

Perry looked down at the small hand pressed against his skin. He knew where he had to go, but what about her? “Aria, what are you going to do?” Somehow, in asking the question, he felt like he was failing her.

“I’m going to Bliss. I need to find out if my mother is alive. Marron and I talked last night. When the Croven leave, he’s going to let me take some of his men. I can’t just wait for news that might not ever come.”

“Aria, I’ll take you. I have to go home. I can take you to Bliss first.”

Perry tensed. What had he just said? What had he just offered?

“No, Perry. Thank you, but no.”

“We had a deal. Allies, remember?” he heard himself say.

“Our deal was to come here and fix the Smarteye.”

“It was to find Talon and your mother. We haven’t done that yet.”

“Bliss is south, Perry.”

“It’s not far. Another week. Doesn’t matter. I’ll get you better shoes this time. And I’ll carry your rocks for you. I’ll even answer all your questions.”

Perry didn’t know what he had just done. Where was the wisdom in heading a week out of the way when his tribe needed him? There was no sense in it, and recognizing that, his blood went cold.

“Will you answer a question now?” Aria asked.

“Yes.” He suddenly couldn’t keep still. He had to leave. He needed to think.

“Why did you really offer to take me to Bliss?”

“I want to,” he said. Even as he spoke, he wasn’t sure if he’d told the truth. It hadn’t felt like a want. It felt more like a need.

Aria smiled, turning toward him, her eyes dropping to his mouth. The room sweetened with her violet scent, drawing him in, becoming everything, and he felt it. A shift deep within him. The seal of a bond he’d only known once before. And suddenly he understood why he’d promised something he shouldn’t have.

Perry pressed a hasty kiss to her hand. “I need some time,” he said, and then bolted out of the room. Perry shut the door and fell back against the wall, stifling a curse.

It happened.

He had rendered to her.

Chapter 31

PEREGRINE

“We might be able to handle a dozen,” Roar said, “but fifty?”

Perry paced in front of the glass cases in the common room, eyeing the image of the Croven’s camp on the wallscreen. In morning light, the image was much clearer than when he’d seen it last. Black-cloaked figures moved around the cluster of tents in the plateau. Red tents. A fitting color. He wanted to draw his bow and fire at them right through the screen.

“There are more than fifty Croven out there, Roar,” he said. The camera only showed some of them. Early that morning, he and Roar had been up on the wall, moving from tower to tower, using all the power of their Senses. It had taken them hours, but they’d detected another dozen Croven scattered around the perimeter. Sentinels, there to sound an alarm should he try to escape.

Roar crossed his arms. “Sixty Croven then.”

Marron turned a ring around his finger. “One of the old mining tunnels looks promising, but it’ll take weeks to excavate safely.”

“That’s well into winter,” Perry said. By then the storms would be moving in constant sets across the sky. Travel would be too dangerous.

“I can’t wait that long,” Aria said.

She’d been quiet, her legs tucked beneath her on the couch. What a fool he must seem to her, peeling for the door with barely a word in parting. She had no idea what had happened last night. Perry pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering the weakness rendering had brought him with Talon. Not being able to choose with freedom. Thinking of his needs as an afterthought. He couldn’t have that spell cast over him now. He’d do what he promised. He’d take her to Bliss, then do what he should and get to the Tides. They’d part ways soon enough. Until then, he’d just keep his distance. And try not to breathe when he was around her.

“I can give you some of my men,” Marron said.

Perry looked up. “No. I can’t have your people dying for me.” He’d put Marron through enough. “We won’t meet them head-to-head.” On the screen, the plateau spread around the Croven, wide and open. He wanted to be there. Outside. Moving free under the Aether. That was when it hit him.

“We could leave during a storm.”

“Peregrine,” Marron said. “Leave during an Aether storm?”

“The Croven are out in the open. They’d need to take shelter. It would put them off their guard. And I can keep us away from the worst of the Aether.”

Roar pushed himself off the wall, his smile eager. “We could clear the sentinels and head east. The Croven won’t follow us.”

Aria’s eyes narrowed. “Why won’t they follow us east?”

“Wolves,” Roar said.

“Our best choice is to leave during an Aether storm and head toward wolves?”

Roar grinned. “That or sixty Croven.”

“All right,” she said, lifting her chin. “Anything but the Croven.”

That afternoon, Perry strode across the roof with Roar. They’d spent the morning plotting their route and readying their packs. Now there was nothing to do but wait for a storm to build. The Aether moved in steady streams above. They wouldn’t see a storm today, but maybe tomorrow. It couldn’t come soon enough.

How was he going to wait? Waiting meant stopping. It meant thinking. He didn’t want to think about what was happening to Talon and Vale, stuck inside the Dweller Pod. How could Talon want to stay there? How had Vale been captured? Why was Liv roaming the borderlands when she knew what the cost was to the Tides?

Roar caught him hard across the shoulders, tackling him. Perry thudded onto the cement before he knew what had happened.

“One to nothing,” Roar said.

“You jaggy bastard.” He pushed Roar off and the game was on.

He usually had the upper hand when they wrestled, but he took it easy because of his hand, and that kept them more evenly matched.

“Talon wrestles better than you, Ro,” he said, helping Roar up after earning a point. Perry’s mood had begun to lift. He’d been idle too long.

“Liv’s pretty good too.”

“She’s my sister.” Perry lunged for him but broke away the instant Aria stepped out of the elevator. No way he’d let Roar in on his thoughts when she was around. He couldn’t help noticing that she’d changed into fitted black clothes and pulled her hair back. Roar looked from him to Aria, a knowing grin spreading over his face. Perry knew he was in trouble.

“Did I interrupt something?” Aria said, confused.

“No. We were done.” Perry grabbed his bow and stalked away. Earlier he’d dragged a wooden crate across the roof to serve as a target. He took aim, pain thudding dully in his hand.

“Perfect timing, Aria,” Roar said behind him. “Watch this. You know, Perry’s known for his skill with the bow.”

Perry fired. The arrow bit into the pine with a crack.

Roar whistled. “Impressive, isn’t he? What a great shot.”

Perry spun, halfway between laughing and wanting to kill Roar.

“Can I try it?” Aria asked. “I should know how to defend myself when we get out there.”

“You should,” he agreed. Anything she learned would help them all when they ventured beyond the wall.

Perry showed her how to hold the bow and set her feet, keeping himself upwind where he could avoid her scent. When it came to nocking an arrow, it wasn’t enough for him to tell her what to do. Drawing a bow smoothly took strength and calm. Rhythm and practice. To him, it was no more difficult than breathing, but he saw right away the only way to teach her was to guide her through the motion.

He stepped behind her, bracing himself. When he inhaled, her temper shot through him, her nerves adding to his own. Then came her violet scent, drawing his focus completely to her, to the way she looked this close, just in front of him. He fumbled with how to hold the bow. Her hand was where his usually was and he didn’t want the bowstring to snap back on her.

Roar didn’t help. “You need to get closer to her, Peregrine,” he called out. “And her stance is all wrong. Turn her hips.”

“Like this?” Aria asked.

“No,” Roar said. “Perry, just do it for her.”

He was sweating by the time they got themselves set. On their first try shooting together, the arrow clattered to the cement a few feet in front of them. On the second, it landed just in front of the crate, but the bowstring grazed her forearm, raising a red welt on her skin. By the third, Perry wasn’t sure which one of them was making the bow shake.

Roar hopped to his feet. “Not your weapon, Halfy,” he said, striding over. “Look at his shoulders, Aria. Look how tall he is.” Perry shot away from her and then shifted on his feet, self-conscious at the way she sized him up. “A bow like that has a draw weight of ninety pounds or so. It’s made for small giants, like him. He’s a Seer on top of it. All the best archers are. It’s his weapon, Aria. Suited for him. For who he is.”

“It’s second nature to you, isn’t it?” she asked him.

“First. But you can learn it. I can make a bow for you. Your size,” he said, but he could see and scent that she was disappointed.

Roar slid his knife out of its sheath. “I could teach you this.”

Perry’s heart stopped cold. “Roar . . .”

Roar knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Knives are dangerous,” he told Aria. “You can do more harm than good if you don’t know how to use one. But I’ll teach you a few things. You move easily and you have good balance. If a situation comes up, you’ll know what to do.”

Aria handed Perry his bow. “All right,” she said. “Teach me.”

Perry had to come up with something to do while he watched them. He found a branch from a tree inside the courtyard and cut it down. Then he sat against the crate making practice blades as Roar showed Aria the different ways to hold a knife. Roar had a passion for the knife. He gave her too much information about the advantages of each grip, but she listened, rapt, absorbing it all. After an hour of constant talk, they settled on a hammer grip as the best for her, which Perry had known from the start.

Next they covered stances and footwork. Aria was a quick learner and her balance was good, just as Roar had said. Perry watched them moving past each other, his gaze turning from Aria to the Aether. From the flow of her footwork to the flow of the sky.

By the time Roar asked for the carved practice knives it was late in the afternoon. Roar showed Aria the best places to strike, angles to strive for, and bones to avoid, fluttering his eyes when he told her the heart was as worthy a target as any.

And then she was ready.

Perry stood as they began to move, their wooden knives held at guard. He told himself that it was Roar. That he’d made the edge of the practice knives as dull as his thumbs. But his heart was beating too fast for just watching simple drills.

They prowled for a bit; then Aria made the first move. Roar darted past her and struck, drawing the blade firmly across her back. Aria jerked back and whirled, her knife falling out of her hand.

Perry shot forward, lunging for Roar. He pulled up short a few steps away, but Roar glared at him, his eyes full of suspicion.

Aria was breathing hard, her temper bright red, pure wrath. Perry’s muscles shook, wound tight with surprise and rage.

“First rule: Knives cut,” Roar said, his tone brutally cold. “Expect it to happen. Don’t freeze up when it does. Second rule: Don’t ever drop your weapon.”

“All right,” Aria said, accepting the lesson. She picked up the blade.

“You staying, Scire?” Roar asked him, lifting an eyebrow. He knew Perry had rendered to her.

“Why would he leave?” Aria said. “You’re staying, right, Perry?”

“Yeah. I’m staying.”

Perry crossed the roof and then climbed on top of the elevator box, the highest point on Delphi, and watched her train in stunned silence. He shook his head. How had he ended up rendering to a Dweller?

Aria was a quick study, daring and confident with the blade, like she’d only been waiting for a chance, a method to bring that out into the open. He’d been a fool, teaching her to find berries when this was what she’d needed. The knowledge to protect herself.

Darkness forced them to stop. The Croven’s bells rang in the distance. Perry took a final glance at the sky, disappointed when he saw no change. He climbed down, careful to keep upwind and well back as she and Roar came toward him.

Roar crossed his arms in front of the elevator. “Fine work, Halfy. But you can’t leave without paying me.”

“Pay you? With what?”

“A song.”

She laughed, a chirky, happy sound. “All right.”

Roar took the wooden blade from her. Aria closed her eyes, turning her face up to the Aether as she drew a few slow breaths. Then she treated them to her voice.

This song was softer, quieter than the last one. He couldn’t understand these words either, but the feel of it, he thought, was perfect. A perfect song for a cool night on a roof surrounded by pines.

Roar didn’t blink as he watched her. When she finished, Roar shook his head. “Aria . . . that was . . . I can’t even . . . Perry, you have no idea.”

Perry forced himself to smile. “She’s good,” he said, but he wondered how her voice would sound to Roar, who heard infinitely more tones.

When they stepped into the close space of the elevator, Aria’s scents flooded into his nose, a combination of violets and sweat and pride and power. He felt it all like a surge of strength inside him. He breathed again and soared with his feet on the ground. Perry couldn’t stop himself from putting his hand on the small of her back. Told himself he’d do this just once. Then he’d stay away.

She looked up at him. Her face was flushed. Strands of her dark hair clung to her sweated neck. Roar was with them, and a good thing, too. He’d never been as tempted by her, by the warm muscle he felt beneath the palm of his hand.

“You did well today.”

She smiled, fire in her eyes. “I know I did,” she said. “And thanks.”

Chapter 32

ARIA

Aria spent two days training with Roar as they waited. Knots of Aether threatened in the distance, but the flows above Delphi held in steady streams. Another reason to call it the never sky, she thought. It never did what you wanted.

With every passing hour, her hope of finding Lumina alive dimmed, but she wouldn’t let it go. She couldn’t let herself believe she was alone. She would never stop hoping, and that meant she’d never stop worrying, either. The only way out of the agony was to go to Bliss and find out the truth. Learning the knife became the only source of relief. When she was moving across the cement with Roar, there was no room for worry or hurt or questions. So she practiced with him from morning until night, ending with her payment in song. Aria knew the Croven were still out there, but at least no one heard the ringing of their bells at dusk anymore.

They heard opera.

On the third morning, she stepped out of the elevator to a new sky, shot through with swirls of blue light. The eddies ran calm above her, but turned brighter and faster on the horizon. It was Van Gogh’s Starry Night, right before her eyes.

She had a feeling this was the day they’d leave.

She picked up the wooden knife. Yesterday she’d struck Roar twice. It wasn’t much, especially compared with the hundreds of times he’d struck her, but in a fight, one good hit was all it took. Roar had taught her that.

She had no illusions of becoming a master knife fighter. This wasn’t the Realms, where a thought delivered a result. But she also knew she’d given herself a better chance. And in life, at least in her new life, chances were the best she could hope for. They were like her rocks. Imperfect and surprising and maybe better in the long run than certainties. Chances, she thought, were life.

On the horizon, the mass of Aether began to drop blue flares she recognized as funnels. Aria watched, mesmerized, as something roused deep within her, whirling and heating through her limbs, bringing her strength as fierce as the never sky.

She decided to go through some maneuvers on her own since she’d arrived early. Gusts whipped up over the roof, the sound lulling her, as she lost herself in movement. She didn’t know how long Perry had been standing there when she finally saw him. He rested a hip against the wooden rail, his arms crossed as he stared across the treetops. She was surprised to see him. Perry had come to her training sessions with Roar, but he’d kept a distance. And she’d hardly seen him inside Delphi. She was starting to think he’d changed his mind about taking her to Bliss.

“Is it time?” she asked.

“No.” He tipped his chin. “But that looks promising. Tonight, I’d say.” He picked up the other practice knife. “Roar’s still asleep, but I’ll train with you until he gets here.”

“Oh,” she said, because it was better than blurting You? Like she’d almost done. “All right.” Aria drew a slow breath, her stomach suddenly buzzing with nerves.

As soon as they squared up, she knew this wouldn’t be the same at all. Perry was much taller and broader than Roar. Fearless and direct. Nothing like Roar’s light-footed grace. And it was Perry.

“Is that the hand you usually fight with?” she asked. He had the knife in his good hand, the bandaged one held out for balance.

He grinned. “Yeah, but I may change my mind if you beat me.”

Her cheeks caught on fire. She couldn’t look at him but she had to look at him. Be ready. Light on your feet. Watch for the signs. Roar’s lessons flew from her mind. What she thought as she stared into his eyes was how green they were. How strong his shoulders looked. How, really, he was grand. Finally she couldn’t stand her own giddy thoughts anymore. She lunged. He blew past her right side, his movement shifting more air and light than Roar.

Perry smiled as they faced each other again.

“What?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” He wiped his sleeve over his forehead.

“Are you laughing?”

“I was, yeah. Your fault, but I apologize anyway.”

“It’s my fault you’re laughing?” Did he think she was that easy an opponent? She made a gut-quick move forward, drawing the wooden blade in a low arc. Perry leaped to the side, but Aria grazed him on the arm.

“That was nice,” he said, still smiling.

Aria swiped her sweaty hand on her pants. Perry got back into his stance, but only for a moment before he straightened and tossed his blade aside.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I can’t concentrate. I thought I could do this.” He put his hands up in defeat. “Can’t.” Then he came closer. Aria didn’t think her heart could beat any faster, but then it did, faster with every step he took toward her, until it hammered against her chest, making her breathless when he stopped right in front of her. Her wooden blade rested on his chest. She stared at it, her heart in her throat. She stared at the way it pressed into his shirt.

“I’ve been watching you and Roar. Wanting it to be me training with you.” His shoulders came up. “I don’t want to do it now.”

“Why?” Aria’s voice was high and thin.

He smiled, a flash of shyness, before he leaned close. “There are other things I’d rather do when I’m alone with you.”

Time to step off the edge. “Then do them.”

His hands came up, cradling her chin. Rough skin on one side, soft gauze on the other. He lowered his head and brought his lips to hers. They were warm and softer than she had ever imagined they would be, but not there nearly long enough. He backed away from her before she knew it.

“Was that all right?” he whispered, close. “I know touching isn’t . . . this has to be your lead, your pace—”

Aria rolled up onto her toes. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. The soft warmth of his mouth sent a wave of fire through her. Perry froze, then his arms tightened around her ribs as he deepened their kiss. They molded together, fitted against each other with stunning perfection. Aria had never felt as she did now, exploring the taste of him. Feeling the strength of his arms around her. Inhaling sweat and leather and woodsmoke. His scents. She felt as though she’d found a moment of forever. Like this was how they should’ve always been.

When they finally drew apart, the first thing she saw was the grin she always savored.

“I guess you’re fine with touching.” His tone was light but his arms shuddered around her. He shifted them, his hands rubbing up her back, sending ripples of heat through her.

“That was my first kiss,” she said. “My first real one.”

He brought his head close, resting his forehead on hers. Blond waves fell around her face, soft against her cheeks. His chest rose and fell as he drew in a breath. “Felt like the first real one for me, too.”

“I thought you were avoiding me. I thought you’d changed your mind about going to Bliss.”

“No. I haven’t changed my mind.”

She slipped her hands into his hair. She couldn’t believe she was touching him. He smiled and his lips found hers again and she thought there could never be enough of this. Of him.

“Well, I can’t say this is a surprise,” Roar said, strolling out onto the roof.

“Rot,” Perry muttered, drawing back.

“Fine close-quarter work, Aria. Nothing you learned from me, but you handled yourself well. I think you won.”

Aria glared at him, but couldn’t keep the smile off her lips. Perry bent close and brushed back her hair. “He’s got a weaker parry on his left side.” His voice rumbled right by her ear.

Roar rolled his eyes. “That is untrue. Traitor.”

She was terrible as she began to train with Roar. Worse than the first day. She battled with her peripheral vision, which wanted Perry front and center. Even when he lay back on the roof and draped an arm over his eyes, she couldn’t stop looking at him. It was absurd how the shape of his thighs drew her interest. Ridiculous that the sliver of his stomach where his shirt had crept up fascinated her.

Every move she made had too much behind it. Every step went too far. Roar pushed her further than ever. He didn’t say it, but Aria could almost hear his lesson point. In real situations, you’ll have distractions. Learn to ignore them.

Eventually she reined in her focus and lost herself in jabs and parries. In the simplicity of action and reaction. She was pure movement until Perry stood. Then she noticed him, and the roiling sky and the lashing wind.

“Better stop,” he said. “It’s time to go.”

Chapter 33

PEREGRINE

“It’ll be so dull without you,” Marron said. Behind him, the wallscreens in the common room were black. His camera had finally given out.

Aria took his hand. “I’m so envious. A dull day sounds wonderful.”

They were ready. Perry had checked and rechecked their packs. He’d given Aria Talon’s knife. Tonight a wooden one would do her no good. And he had run through the plan with Gage and Mark, two of Marron’s men. Marron had insisted they come on the journey. Gage and Mark would bring Aria back to Delphi if they discovered the rumors about Bliss were true.

Marron embraced Aria. His hair looked almost white against hers. “You’re always welcome here, Aria. Whatever happens, whatever you find, you always have a place here.”

Perry turned to the painting of the boat on the gray beach, the sea a broad stretch of blue behind. Looking at it, he could almost smell home. What if she was forced to come back here? Marron’s was just a week’s travel from Tides land. Would it matter? Perry shook his head at himself. It wouldn’t. The Tides would never accept a Dweller once they learned about Vale, Talon, and Clara. They wouldn’t have beforehand. And he wouldn’t make the same mistake his father and brother had made. Nothing good ever came of mixing blood. He knew that better than anyone.

Roar strode up. “As Blood Lord, you could strike a new deal with Sable. You could get Liv back.”

Perry just looked at him for a moment. Partly because the question came out of nowhere. Partly because he realized he could do that as Blood Lord. It would fall within his duty. But it didn’t mean he would do it. It wasn’t a simple decision. “Don’t ask me that now.”

“I’m asking now.” Roar tipped his head toward Aria. “I thought you’d see things differently.”

Perry glanced at her. She was still talking with Marron. All he could think about was the way she’d felt against him when they had kissed. “It’s not the same, Roar.”

“Isn’t it?”

Perry pulled his satchel over his shoulder. Grabbed his bow and quiver. “Let’s go.”

He wanted the earth blurring fast beneath his feet. The night flowing into his nostrils. He always knew what to do with a weapon in his hand.

They left through a small gate on the north wall. Perry brought in all the scents, letting earth and wind tell him what they’d find. His nose hummed with the strength of the Aether. He glanced up. Vast spools crowded the sky.

He eased smoothly into the woods, finally shedding the feeling of being bound. They broke into two groups to lessen the sounds of their movement. He prowled uphill with Aria, choosing every step with care, scanning the canopy. He had no doubt the Croven’s sentinels were Marked, probably Auds. They would sleep in the treetops, the safest place at night.

Perry glanced over his shoulder. Aria had her hair pulled under a black cap and her face darkened with charcoal, as he did. Her eyes were wide and alert. She had a satchel of her own now. A knife. Clothes that fit. It struck him in that instant how much she’d changed. He’d wondered how it would be, doing this with her. She could have weakened his concentration. She was afraid. No question of that. But this was different than their journey to Marron’s. She was trapping the nerves and making them work. When he breathed, he knew the strength of her control.

Delphi’s walls receded as they crept deeper into the mountain. Judging by the look of the Aether and the burn in his nose, they still had time. An hour maybe, before the funnels rained down.

Aria’s hand at his back stopped him. She pointed to a large tree forty paces ahead. A fresh scatter of branches littered the ground below. Looking up, he saw a figure nestled in the crook of a branch. The man bore an ivory horn. The signaler. Perry looked higher and spotted another man. A pair, tasked with sounding the alarm.

He didn’t know how he’d missed them. Even more, he wasn’t sure how Aria had spotted them first. The men spoke quietly, a conversation Perry only caught as faint sounds. He met Aria’s eyes and then straightened slowly, nocking an arrow in place. He knew he wouldn’t miss the first man. Perry’s challenge was to kill him soundlessly. If he could keep the man from falling from the tree, that would be even better.

He took his aim and drew a few breaths. It should be easy. He wasn’t far. But one yell from the man, or one blast of his horn, and all the Croven would be on them.

A wolf howled in the distance, the perfect sound cover. He straightened the two fingers that held the bowstring, loosing the arrow. He struck the man’s neck, pinning him to the trunk. The horn slid off his lap but didn’t fall to the ground. It remained slung around his arm by a strap, hanging just below the branch. A pale crescent hovering in the darkness.

Perry nocked another arrow but the other man, definitely an Aud because he’d heard the noise, called out desperately for his friend. When he got no answer, he climbed down the tree, fast as a squirrel. Perry loosed another arrow. He heard a crunch as his shot sank into bark. The Aud scampered to the opposite side of the thick trunk, giving Perry no clear shot. Perry dropped his bow, pulled his knife, and ran.

The Aud saw him and veered toward a dense knot of brush. He was slight, closer to Aria’s size than Perry’s, and quick as he threaded around the thick undergrowth. Perry didn’t slow down. He crashed through the branches, hearing them snap and break around him. The man turned downhill, scampering in panic, but Perry knew he had him. He lunged, covering the final paces in the air, slamming into the Aud’s back.

Perry jerked up as soon as they hit the ground, making a clean swipe with his blade across the man’s neck. The wriggling body beneath him went slack as the rich scent of hot blood shot into his nose. Perry wiped his blade on the man’s shirt and stood, his lungs working for breath. Killing a man should be more difficult than killing game. It wasn’t. He looked at the knife in his trembling hand. Only the aftermath was different.

A stab deep inside his nose had him looking up. The Aether had begun to take the shape of a massive whirlpool. The storm would come soon and it would strike hard.

He slid the knife back into his sheath, his muscles seizing as he heard a muffled cry.

Aria.

Chapter 34

ARIA

Aria pulled into a crouch as a third man appeared, dropping from another tree close by, only twenty paces off. She clutched Talon’s knife, ready to fight, but he didn’t run toward her. He darted toward the tree where the dead man hung. Fear shot through her. He wanted the horn. If he alerted the rest of the Croven, it wouldn’t just be her death. It would be Marron’s men. Roar. And Perry.

She waited until he neared the base of the tree before she ran after him. Aria didn’t feel her legs moving beneath her. She knew she’d picked the right moment. He was climbing, his hands occupied, and his back turned to her. She’d used speed and surprise to her advantage just as Roar had taught her.

It should have been perfect. But with steps to go, she realized the only lethal targets she knew were along the front of the body. She thought of reaching around for his jugular, but he was too far off the ground.

She couldn’t turn back. He heard her, his head whipping around. For an awful second, their eyes met. Roar’s voice burst into her mind. Strike first and fast. But where? On the leg? His back? Where?

The man pushed off the tree, falling toward her. She tried to raise her blade. She intended to do it. But he came down on her in a blur.

Aria landed on her back, the air driving out of her chest in one heave. A muffled groan burst out of her. He was on top of her. She braced for a knife in her side. For a blow across the face. She was ready, but he shuddered and then went limp.

She’d killed him.

Waves of panic blared through her at the feel of his hair strewn over her eyes, at his weight pressing down on her. It took three tries to bring air into her lungs. When she finally did, the odor of him was so foul, she choked back a rise of nausea. Warmth seeped across her stomach. She couldn’t move.

A face appeared above her. A girl. She was a wild-eyed thing, but pretty. She scrambled up the tree, slipped the horn around her neck, jumped to the ground, and ran off.

Aria pushed her shoulder back with all the strength she had. It was enough to free her arm. With another push, she rolled the man off. She wanted to shoot away from him. She couldn’t do anything except feed her starved lungs.

Another Croven came, a larger figure, suddenly there, crouching at her side. Aria groped through the dirt for her knife, hearing Roar in her mind again. Never let go of your blade.

“Steady, Aria. It’s me.”

Perry. She remembered he was wearing a cap, hiding his gold-streaked hair.

“Where are you hurt?” His hands ran over her stomach.

“It’s not me,” she said. “It’s not mine.”

Perry pulled her into his arms, cursing softly, saying he’d thought it had happened again. She didn’t know what he meant. She wanted to stay pressed close to him. She’d just killed a man. His blood was all over her, making her stomach shake. But she pulled away.

“Perry,” she said. “We have to find Roar.”

Before they were on their feet, the blast of the horn shattered the silence.

They ran through the darkened woods together, knives in hand, coming upon a body lying facedown. Aria’s knees weakened. She knew Roar’s proportions well, had spent the past days watching him, measuring him so she could dodge his strikes.

“It’s not him,” Perry said. “It’s Gage.”

Roar called softly from a distance. “Here, Perry.”

They found him sitting against a tree, one leg outstretched, an arm propped on his other knee. Aria fell to her knees at his side.

“There were five of them. They got Mark right away. Gage and I managed four. He went after the one who ran off.”

“Gage is dead,” Perry said.

A pool of blood glistened beneath Roar’s leg. Aria saw the tear in his dark pants at his thigh. The skin was split open, the muscle beneath as well. Blood leaked steadily out of the wound, shiny under the blue Aether light. “Your leg, Roar.” She pressed her hands on his leg to stop the flow of blood.

Roar’s face twisted with pain. Perry pulled a lash of leather from her satchel and tied it above the wound, his hands moving swiftly. “I’ll carry you.”

“No, Peregrine,” Roar said. “I hear them. The Croven are coming.”

Aria heard it too. The bells were ringing. The Croven were moving, chasing them, undeterred by the storm.

“We’re getting you back to Marron’s first,” Perry said.

“They’re too close. We won’t get there in time.”

Cold raced down Aria’s neck. She stared into the trees, imagining sixty cannibals sweeping toward them in black cloaks.

Perry swore. He handed Aria his satchel, bow, and quiver. “Don’t fall more than three feet behind me.” He hoisted Roar up, slinging an arm over his shoulder as he’d done with Cinder. They ran, Perry half carrying Roar, as the bells trilled in her ears. She stumbled downslope, the pealing of the bells maddening.

Perry scanned the trees, his eyes bright and wide. “Aria!” he yelled, turning toward an outcropping of rocks. He set Roar down and took his bow and quiver from her.

She crouched behind the rocks, breathless, shoulder-to- shoulder with Roar. Perry stood at her other side, unleashing a barrage of arrows, one after another, never stopping. Shouts of alarm erupted from the night. The Croven flung their last words at the sky. But still the bells rang louder.

Aria couldn’t tear her eyes away from Perry. She’d seen him this way before, almost serene as he dealt death. He’d been a stranger then. But this was Perry. How could he bear to do it?

His bow landed with a soft, surprising thump on the pine needles by her feet.

“I’m out,” he said. “I’ve run out of arrows.”

Chapter 35

PEREGRINE

The Croven’s putrid scents coated Perry’s throat. The bells at their belts glinted in the Aether light. They rang softly now. The chase was over. They were surrounded.

At some signal, they donned their masks and pulled on the hoods of their black cloaks. Soon it was all Perry saw. Dozens of beaked faces hovering in the gloom of the forest. Aria stood beside him, her knife out. Roar rose to his feet and leaned against the rock behind him.

The Croven had their own archers, Perry saw. Six men with bows trained on them. None of them more than thirty feet away. Would this be the way he died? It would be a fitting death. How many men had he just killed with his bow?

A heavily built man stepped forward. His mask wasn’t made of bone and skin but silver. It shone, reflecting the Aether as he lifted his head to the wind in a way Perry knew well.

“Lay down where you are, Blood Lord.”

His voice was loud and deep. A voice for ceremony. In any other situation, Perry might’ve appreciated that this man assumed him a Blood Lord. Now he only saw the sad truth in it. That he should hear himself addressed this way for the first and last time together.

“I will not,” Perry said.

Silver Mask kept silent for a long moment. Then he called one of the archers. “Strike him through the leg. Muscle only. Don’t pierce the arteries.”

Perry had come close to dying several times. But at those words, he knew this was his time. It wasn’t fear that struck him, but a crushing disappointment at all the things he hadn’t done. At all the things he knew he could do.

The archer raised his bow, his eyes steady, aiming through the Croven mask.

“No!” Aria stepped around Perry.

“Get back, Aria.” He said this, but when she took his hand, he accepted it. She moved to his side, somehow understanding that he needed her. Needed Roar there too. With the two of them, he could stand there and wait for an arrow to strike him down.

The archer hesitated, seeing their joined hands.

“Perry . . . ,” Roar said hoarsely, behind them. “Get down.”

The charge of the Aether burned in the back of Perry’s nose. It buzzed over his skin, grating and alive. A stir ran through the Croven. They lifted their masks, yelling in terror as they saw Cinder.

He strode through the Croven. Shirtless, his veins created glowing lines over his skin. He came forward, searching with his Aether blue eyes. The Croven darted out of his way with a sudden eruption from the bells.

“Cinder,” Perry said.

The boy’s eyes found him and held for a moment. Then he turned his back to Perry and raised his palms. Perry felt an updraft like the intake before a scream. He grabbed Aria by the waist and leaped over the stone outcropping, landing on Roar, as Cinder lit the night with liquid fire.

Searing flashes rolled past as the Aether let out its horrid shriek, drowning the Croven’s screams. Perry pressed his eyes closed against the burning streaks. He covered Roar and Aria as best he could, his fingers gripping the earth like they might be carried off.

Quiet came with a suddenness that thundered emptily in his ears. The night returned with a cool drift over Perry’s arms. Long seconds passed before he could lift his head. The pungent scent of burnt hair mingled with charred flesh and wood. Perry tried getting to his knees but ended up rolling to the side.

Stars. He saw stars through a vast hole in the Aether. Clear, bright stars. Around the hole, the Aether rippled in circles. Like a pebble thrown in a pond but working closer. Tightening instead of spreading. Slowly covering one star after another with its blue light.

Aria appeared over him. “Perry, are you all right?”

He couldn’t speak. Perry tasted ash and blood.

“Roar!” Aria said. “What’s wrong with him!” She thrust Roar’s hand onto Perry’s forehead.

Now Roar stared down at him. “Where are you hurt, Perry?”

Everywhere, Perry thought, knowing Roar could hear him. But mostly my throat. You?

“I’m good enough.” Roar turned to Aria. “He’s all right.”

With Aria’s help, Perry sat up. As far as he could see, the trees were burned to black stalks of carbon. The earth glittered with embers, but he saw no fire. No bodies anywhere. Everything had already burned. Cinder had bled the life out of everything except a crow mask that lay in the ash, the silver warped. Dripping like melted wax.

Nearby a half-starved figure with a shorn head lay within a circle of fine gray dust. Perry climbed to his feet. Cinder was curled into himself. He was bare. His clothes gone to ash. Not a single hair was left on his scalp. The glow of his veins faded before Perry’s eyes, seeping back into his skin.

His eyes opened to dark slits. “Did you see what I did?”

“I saw,” Perry said, his voice in shreds.

Cinder’s gaze fell on Perry’s hand. He stared at the spoiled flesh. “I couldn’t help it.”

“I know,” Perry said, seeing himself in Cinder’s black eyes. He understood the terror of being good at ending lives.

Cinder groaned, clutching at his stomach as he began to shake. His breath came in gasps as he convulsed in a tight ball. Perry took a blanket from his satchel and covered him. Then he stashed the rest of their things in the rocks. Aria took Roar as he had done earlier, supporting his injured side. Perry lifted Cinder into his arms, stunned by the coldness of the boy’s skin.

“I made it right,” Cinder said through trembling lips.

They came upon a pair of Croven huddled together in the shadow of a tree. At the sight of Cinder, they scurried away. Perry swallowed against the rawness in his throat. Had the boy ever known anything beyond fear and pity?

They rushed into Delphi, bursting into the courtyard. Perry set Cinder down next to Roar right on the cobbles. People were gathered inside the gate, armed with weapons, braced for war, for an invasion, for anything. The Aether continued to seal above. Whatever break Cinder had brought them was vanishing.

Marron cut through the gathered crowd. “Mark and Gage?”

Perry shook his head, then he staggered off a dozen paces, turning his back. He pressed his fist to his lips to hold back the guilt and everything else that threatened to come up. Behind him, Aria told Marron what had happened. People cried and cursed Perry. They were right. He’d brought the Croven here. Mark and Gage had died because of him. Perry saw no way of escaping that blame.

Marron came up to him. “You have to go. The Croven might return. Get home, Peregrine. Get Aria to her mother.”

Clarity returned with those simple words. He had no time to spare. He went to Roar. “You’ll come in the spring.”

Roar took Perry’s offered hand in a firm grip. “As soon as I can get there.”

Perry moved to Cinder. He knew he couldn’t command the boy, whose power was far greater than his own. But he also knew Cinder needed him. Needed someone to help him make sense of what he’d done, and what he could do. Maybe Perry needed that too.

“Will you come with Roar?” It was a bigger question than what it appeared to be on the surface. The true question was whether he’d pledge himself to Perry.

Cinder answered right away.

“Yes.”

Chapter 36

PEREGRINE

Perry and Aria stepped through the gate together. They collected their belongings from the rocks and ran. The Aether came screaming, dropping funnels that shook the ground beneath them. Smoke thickened the cool air as the woods ignited. Perry steered around the flames, holding tight to Aria’s hand.

They moved swiftly, driven by the need to put Delphi behind them. They cleared the worst of the storm in a few hours and then spent the rest of the night traveling in silence. Descending slopes with locked arms. Passing water back and forth between them, and sharing touches. Her hand holding his for a dozen paces. His, resting on the small of her back for a moment. Touches that had no real purpose but to say I’m here and We are together still.

By dawn, Perry couldn’t ignore the scents that clung to them any longer. Blood and ash crusted to their clothes and skin. The smoke from the Aether storm was thinning. He could no longer count on it to mask their scents and keep the wolves at bay. They stopped by a river that rushed over a cascade of gray boulders and washed quickly, shivering at the icy water, and then set off again. He hoped they’d done enough.

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 only 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.”

He grinned. “Birds of a feather.”

With their nerves settling, they ate a quick meal of cheese and dried fruits they’d packed from Marron’s. Then they wrapped themselves into their blankets and sat against the planks, listening to the wind stir the branches around them.

“Do you have a girl in your tribe?” Aria asked.

Perry peered at her, his pulse picking up. It was just about the last question he wanted to answer. “No one important,” he said carefully. That sounded terrible, but it was the truth.

“Why isn’t she important?”

“You know what I’m going to say. Don’t you?”

“Rose told me. But I want to hear it from you.”

“Mine is the rarest Sense. The most powerful. It’s even more important for us to keep our bloodline pure than it is for other Marked.” He rubbed his tired eyes and sighed. “Crossing Senses brings a curse. It brings misfortune.”

“A curse? That sounds archaic. Like something out of the Middle Ages.”

“It’s not,” he said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.

She thought for a moment, her small chin jutting out. “What about you? You have two Senses. Was your mother a Scire?”

“No. Aria, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Actually, I don’t either.”

They fell into silence. Perry wanted to reach for her. He wanted to feel like he had for the past day, with her hand in his. But her temper had become weighted, cool as the night.

Finally she spoke. “Perry, what would I scent now if I were a Scire?”

Perry closed his eyes. Describing their differences wouldn’t bring her any closer. But neither would refusing to answer. He inhaled and then he told her what his nose told him. “There are traces of the wolves. The scents of the tree carrying a winter tone.”

“The trees have a winter smell?” she asked.

“They do. Trees know first what the weather will do.”

He already regretted speaking. Aria bit her lip. “What else?” she said, but he scented how it hit her, all the things he knew that she didn’t.

“There’s resin and rust on the iron nails. I scent the remnants of a fire, probably months old, but the ash is different from yesterday, with Cinder. This is dry and has a taste like fine salt.”

“And yesterday?” she asked softly. “What did that ash smell like?”

He peered at her. “Blue. Empty.” She nodded like she understood, but she couldn’t. “Aria, this isn’t a good idea.”

“Please, Perry. I want to know what this is like for you.”

He cleared his throat against a sudden tightness. “This shack belonged to a family. I scent traces of a man and a woman. A stripling—”

“What’s a stripling?”

“A boy on the cusp of becoming a man. Like Cinder. They have a scent that can’t be ignored, if you get what I mean.”

She smiled. “Would that be your scent?”

He put his hand to his heart, pretending to be stricken. “That hurt.” Then he grinned. “No doubt, yes. To another Scire, my appetites must raise one skunk of a reek.”

She laughed, dropping her head to the side. Her black hair spilled over her shoulder. Just like that the night cold vanished.

“I would know all that if I were a Scire?” she asked.

“That and more.” Perry drew a shuddering breath. “You’d have a fair idea of what I want right now.”

“What would that be?”

“You nearer.”

“How near?”

He lifted the edge of his blanket.

She surprised him by folding her arms around his waist and embracing him. Perry looked down at the top of her dark head as she burrowed against his chest. Something heavy and cold at his core lightened. Hugging wasn’t what he’d had in mind, but maybe it was better. It shouldn’t surprise him, her knowing what he needed more than he did.

After a moment, she drew back. Tears pooled in her eyes. She was so close, her scent moving through him, filling him. He found his eyes pooling too.

“I know we only have this time, Perry. I know it’ll end.”

He kissed her then, parting her soft lips with his. She tasted perfect. Like fresh rain. He deepened their kiss, his hands finding her, bringing her closer. But then she drew away and smiled. Without a word, she kissed the bridge of his nose, then the corner of his lip, and then a spot on his chin. His heart stopped when she tugged his shirt up. He helped her, yanking it over his head. Her gaze ran over his chest and then her fingers trailed over his Markings. He couldn’t slow down his breathing.

“Perry. I want to see your back.”

Another surprise, but he nodded and turned away. Dropped his head forward and took the moment to try and calm his breath. He jerked when she traced the shape of the wings on his skin, a groan sliding out of him. Perry silently cursed himself. He couldn’t have sounded more Savage if he’d tried.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

He cleared his throat. “We get them when we turn fifteen. All Marked do. A band for your Sense and one for your name.”

“He’s magnificent. Like you,” she added softly.

That was what did it. He spun and caught her up, pulling her down onto the boards, possessing just enough of his wits to soften their fall with his arms.

Aria gave a startled laugh. “You didn’t like that?”

“I did. Too much.” With some quick shifting, he pulled a blanket beneath them, another one over. And then she was his. He kissed her and lost himself in the silk of her skin, and in her violet scent.

“Perry, if we . . . couldn’t I get . . . ?”

“No,” he said. “Not now. Your scent would be different.”

“It would? How?”

Questions. Of course with her. Even now. “Sweeter,” he said.

She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Aria,” he whispered, “we don’t have to do this if you’re not sure.”

“I trust you and I’m sure,” she said, and he knew it was true.

He kissed her slowly. Everything went slowly so he could follow her temper, and search into her eyes. When they joined, her scent was brave and strong and certain. Perry took it into himself, breathing her breath, feeling what she felt. He’d never known anything as right.

Chapter 37
ARIA

The next morning, Perry told her the wolves’ scents were faint. He didn’t think the pack was close, but they traveled with more care than ever, relaxing only when they had left that territory behind.

He was different with her. He spoke to her quietly as they walked. He answered every one of her questions, even things she didn’t ask, knowing she’d want to know them. He told her about the plants they passed. Which ones were edible or had medicinal uses. He showed her the animal tracks they came across and explained how to navigate by the shape of the hills.

Aria memorized every word he said and savored every smile he gave her. She found excuses to bring him close, pretending interest in this leaf or that rock. Nothing fascinated her more than him. When Perry told her it would take them six days to reach Bliss, she gave up on excuses. Six days was too long to wait for news of Lumina. It wasn’t long enough to be with him.

In the afternoon, they stopped to eat on a rocky outcrop. Perry brushed a kiss on her cheek while she was chewing, and she learned that it was the loveliest thing to be kissed for no reason, even while chewing food. It brightened the woods, and the never sky, and everything.

Aria embraced this tactic, calling it the Spontaneous Kiss, and soon learned how difficult Scires were to surprise. Whenever she tried the Spontaneous Kiss in return, Perry smiled with heavy-lidded eyes and opened his arms. She kissed him anyway, not caring, until it hit her that he’d someday choose a girl who was like him. A Scire who would also be immune to the Spontaneous Kiss. Aria wondered if they would know every emotion that ran through each other. She found it curious and frightening that she could deeply dislike someone she didn’t even know. It wasn’t her. At least, it wasn’t how she used to be.

That night Perry devised a hammock from their blankets and rope. Pressed together in a cocoon of warm fleece, his heart pounding solidly beneath her ear, she wished for what she’d always had in Reverie. A way to exist in two worlds at once.

The next day she spent hours thinking, turning her inquisitiveness inward. She liked what she was discovering about herself. Aria, who knew that birds should be plucked while they were still warm so the feathers came out more easily. Aria, who could start a fire with a knife and a piece of quartz. Aria, who sang wrapped in the arms of a blond-haired boy.

She didn’t know where this side of her would fit with what lay five days ahead. How would it be going back to the Pod? Knowing how utterly visceral and terrifying and euphoric these days had been, how would she return to simulated thrills? She didn’t know, but thinking of it worried her. As to her biggest question—what would happen when she reached Bliss—she did something new. She withheld her questions and fears and trusted that she’d know what to do when the time came.

“Perry?” she whispered late that night. His arms immediately tightened around her ribs and she knew she’d woken him.

“Hmm?”

“When did you get your Senses?”

In the quiet, she could practically hear him sinking into his memories.

“My sight came first. Around age four. For a while no one knew that it was different . . . even I didn’t. Most Seers see better in the light, but I thought everyone saw like I did. When it came out that I was Night-Sighted no one made much of it. At least not around me. I was eight when I started scenting tempers. Eight exactly. That I remember.”

“Why?” Aria asked. But there was something about the way he’d said it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Scenting tempers changed everything. . . . I realized how often people say one thing and mean another. How often they want what they can’t have. I saw all these reasons for everything. . . . I couldn’t avoid knowing things people hid.”

Aria’s heartbeat quickened. She found his burned hand. He’d stopped using the bandage the night they left Marron’s. The skin at the top had patches that were too rough and patches that were too smooth. She brought it close and kissed the marbled skin. She’d never have dreamed a scar could be something worth kissing, but she loved every scar on him. She’d found them and kissed them all, and asked to hear each and every story that had left its mark on him.

“What did you learn?” she asked.

“That my father drank so he could bear to be around me. I knew he felt better still when his fists found me. For a while, anyway. Never for long.”

Her eyes filling with tears, Aria pulled him close, feeling how tense he was against her. She’d sensed this piece of him. Somehow she had known. “Perry, what could you have possibly done to deserve that?”

“My . . . I’ve never talked about this before.”

When he sniffed, Aria felt a sob catch in her throat. “You can tell me.”

“I know . . . I’m trying. . . . My mother died birthing me. She died because of me.”

She leaned back so she could see his face. He closed his eyes.

“That wasn’t your fault. You can’t really blame yourself. Perry . . . do you?”

“He did. Why shouldn’t I?”

She remembered what he’d said about killing a woman. She realized he’d been speaking of his mother. “You were an infant! It was an accident. It’s just a horrible thing that happened. It’s a horrible thing your father did to make you feel like that.”

“He just felt what he felt, Aria. There’s no disguising a temper.”

“He was wrong! Did your brother and sister blame you too?”

“Liv never did. And Vale never acted like it, but I can’t be sure. I can’t scent his tempers just like I can’t scent my own. But maybe he did. I’m the only one who carries her Sense. My father gave up everything to be with her. He built a tribe. He had Vale and Liv. And then I came and stole what he loved most. People said it was the curse of mixing blood. They said it finally caught up to him.”

“You didn’t steal anything. It’s just something that happened.”

“No. It’s not. The same thing happened to my brother. Mila was a Seer too, and she’s . . . she’s gone. Talon’s sick. . . .” He exhaled a shuddering breath. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I shouldn’t be talking about this with you. I’ve been talking so much lately. Maybe I forgot how to stop.”

“You don’t have to stop.”

“You know what I think of words.”

“Words are the best way I have to know you.”

His hand slid under her jaw, his fingers threading into her hair. “The best way?”

His thumb ran back and forth across her chin. It was distracting, and she knew that was what he wanted. Maybe all he’d ever done was move forward. Try to save the people he could. Try to make up for something he’d never done.

“Perry . . . ,” Aria said, covering his hand. “Peregrine . . . you are kind. You put your life at risk for Talon and Cinder. For me. You did it when you didn’t even like me. You worry about your tribe. You ache for Roar and your sister. I know you do. I saw it in your face every time Roar spoke of Liv.” Her voice was shaking. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “You are good, Peregrine.”

He shook his head. “You’ve seen me.”

“I have. And I know your heart is good.” She put her hand over it and felt all the life that drummed through him. A sound so strong, so loud, as if she’d rested her ear against his chest.

His thumb stopped. His hand moved to the back of her head. He drew her toward him until their foreheads touched. “I liked those words,” he said.

In his glinting eyes, she saw tears of gratitude and trust. She also saw the shadow of what neither of them would dare say to each other, with only days left together. But for now, for tonight, they were done with words.

Chapter 38

PEREGRINE

Aria made him forget to eat. It was as real a sign as any that he was in trouble. They’d finished the small provisions they had brought from Marron’s. Today he’d need to hunt. Perry made a few quick arrows in the morning using shoots he’d been collecting, deciding to track for game as they went. It would slow their pace, but he couldn’t ignore the cramping in his stomach any longer.

They were working down into the foothills when he scented a badger in a wide glade that gave to a river. The animal’s odor wafted out of its underground tunnels. Supper, he decided.

Perry found the entry hole and another one, farther back. He set a fire on one end and had Aria wait there with a leafy branch. “Fan the smoke into the hole. It’ll come to me. Animals don’t run toward fire.”

The badger saw Perry as it came up from its hole. It spun and did exactly what he said it wouldn’t do. Perry ran toward Aria. “Your knife! He’s coming to you!”

She was ready, staring down into the opening as Perry reached her. But the badger didn’t come up. Aria straightened from her crouch and began walking. She stopped every few steps, changing directions as she stared at the river-moist soil. Perry had an idea what this was. He’d been wondering since the day they’d seen the wolves. Finally she stood in place and met his eyes.

“He’s right underneath me,” she said, smiling wide, surprised.

Perry slid his bow off his shoulder.

“No. I’ll get him. But I need your knife.”

Perry gave it to her and backed away, afraid to blink.

She waited for a few moments, the long blade clutched in both hands. Then she brought it over her head and thrust it deep into the muddy earth.

Perry heard a faint squeal but Aria, he knew, had heard it clearly.

Later, in the same glade, they sat against a stump. Aria lay back against his chest. A fire trailed a line of smoke up into the trees. There were a few more hours left in the day, but with a full stomach and Aria’s contented temper sating him, Perry let his head fall back. He watched the glow of Aether dance behind his eyelids as Aria described the sounds she heard.

“They aren’t louder . . . I don’t know how to explain it. They’ve just become richer. Sounds that were simple are so intricate now. Like the river. There are hundreds of small sounds coming from the water. And the wind, Perry. It’s constant, moving through the trees, making the bark groan and the leaves rustle. I can tell exactly which way it’s coming. It’s almost like I can see it, I hear it so clearly.”

Perry tried in vain to hear what she heard, feeling an odd sense of pride over her newfound ability.

“Do you think it’s being out here—under the Aether—why this has all happened to me? Like the Outsider part of me is waking up?”

Perry heard her, but he was so content that he’d started to drift asleep. She pinched his arm. He startled. “Sorry. The Outsider in me was falling asleep.”

She glared at him, her eyes shining with cleverness. “Do you think I’m related to Roar?”

“Maybe generations back. Not closely. Your scents are too different. Why?”

“I like Roar. I was thinking that if he didn’t find Liv, you know . . . we are both Audiles. Never mind. Roar will never get over Liv.”

Perry sat up. “What?”

She laughed. “You’re awake now. Did you think I was serious?”

“Yes. No. Aria, there’s truth there. Roar would be better suited for you.” Perry sighed, shoving his hand into his hair. He peered at her. There was another reason too, and he might as well just tell her since he was getting good at telling her everything. “Liv says . . . she says he’s a feast for the eyes.” He tried to say it without sounding envious, but doubted it would help. Surely she’d hear the emotion in his voice.

Aria smiled. She took his scarred hand and ran her thumb over his knuckles. “Roar is very handsome. In Reverie most people look like him. Or close.”

Perry cursed. His fault for bringing it up. “And here you are. Holding hands with a crooked-nosed Savage who’s been burnt and beaten in—how many places did you count?”

“I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you.”

Perry looked down at their hands. How did she do that? How did she make him feel weak and strong? Thrilled and terrified? He couldn’t find a way to return what she’d given him. He didn’t have the gift she did with words. All he could do was take her hand and kiss it, and bring it to his heart, and wish she could scent his temper. He wished it was all easy between them. At least now she’d come to understand. She was learning the power of a Sense.

He pulled her back into his arms, resting her along his chest. “I can tell you one thing about your father,” he said, because he knew she wondered. “He’s probably from a strong line of Auds for you to be as keen as you are.”

She squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

“I mean it. That was no small trick, hearing through dirt that thick.”

Perry kissed the top of her head as they fell into silence. He knew she was listening. Hearing a new world. But her good mood didn’t pull him along anymore.

For days he’d had a shifty, anxious feeling in his gut. A feeling like the instant after a cut, before the pain came. He knew when the hurt would hit him. Three more days and they’d reach Bliss. And she’d go back to her mother. He didn’t know what he’d do if they didn’t find Lumina. Bring her to the Tides? Take her back to Marron’s? He couldn’t imagine doing either. He tightened his arms around her. Brought in her scent, breathing deep, letting it mellow him. She was here now.

“Perry? Say something. I want to hear your voice again.”

He didn’t know what to say but he wasn’t going to disappoint her. He cleared his throat. “I’ve been having this dream since we started sleeping together up in the trees. I’m in this grassy plain. And there’s this blue sky stretching out over me. No Aether in it at all. And the breeze is moving the grass in waves, stirring up bugs. And I’m just walking, my bow sort of combing the tall grass behind me. And there’s not a thing I’m worrying about. It’s a good dream.”

She squeezed him. “Your voice sounds like a midnight fire. All warm and worn in and golden. I could listen to you talk forever.”

“I could never do that.”

She laughed at him. He brought his lips to her ear. “Your scent is like violets in early spring,” he whispered. Then he laughed at himself because though it was true, he sounded like the worst kind of fool.

“Was Vale a good Blood Lord?”

Aria was too eager to learn about her Sense to sleep so they walked into the night.

“Very good. Vale is calm. He thinks things through. He’s patient with people. I think . . . I think if it weren’t a time like this . . . he would be the best man to lead the tribe.”

Maybe that had held him back from making a challenge for Blood Lord, as much as his fear of hurting Talon, Perry realized. He still couldn’t believe his brother had been captured. “He wasn’t going to go after Talon,” he said, remembering the last time they’d been together. “Vale said it meant risking the tribe’s safety. It’s the reason I left.”

“Why do you think Vale changed his mind?”

“I don’t know,” he said. Vale had never put anything above the good of the tribe before, but Talon was his son.

“They’re together. Will you still try to bring them to the outside?”

He looked at her.

“Talon is being cared for,” she said. “You saw him. He has a chance to live in there.”

“I’m not giving up.”

Aria slipped her hand into his. “Even if it’s better for him?”

“Are you saying I should let him go? How could I do that?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to figure out the same thing.”

Perry stopped. “Aria . . .” He was going to tell her he’d rendered to her. That nothing was the same anymore because of her. But what difference would it make? They only had three more days together. And he knew she had to go home. He knew exactly how much she needed her mother.

She took his other hand. “Yes, Peregrine?” After a moment, she smiled.

He found himself smiling too. “Aria, I don’t understand how you can be so chirky right now.”

“I was just thinking. Soon you’ll be Peregrine, Blood Lord of the Tides.” She swirled a hand in the air as she said it. “I just love how it sounds.”

Perry laughed. “Spoken like a true Aud.”

Chapter 39

ARIA

Aria heard song everywhere.

Shifting in the trees. Rumbling in the earth. Drifting on the wind. It was the same terrain, but she saw it differently. When she looked into the distance, where she’d seen nothing before, she now imagined the father who might be there. A man who would hear the world as she did, in endless tones. He was an Audile. That was the only thing she knew about him. Strangely, it felt like a lot.

A day after she’d discovered her ability, she noticed her own footfall growing quieter. Somehow, without consciously thinking of it, she’d begun to choose her steps with greater care. When she mentioned it to Perry, he grinned.

“I noticed that too. Easier to hunt,” he said, patting a hare strung over his shoulder. “Most Auds are quiet as shadows. The best end up as spies or scouts for the larger tribes.”

“Seriously? Spies?”

“Seriously.”

She practiced sneaking up on Perry, determined to succeed where she’d failed before. The morning before they were to reach Bliss, she pounced on him, throwing her arms around his neck as she planted a kiss on the blond scruff over his jaw. Finally she had accomplished the Spontaneous Kiss. She expected him to laugh and kiss her back. He didn’t do either. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on top of hers.

“Should we rest?” she asked, feeling his weight settle onto her shoulders. She could see the hills where Bliss was supposedly nestled on the horizon.

Perry straightened. “No,” he said. His green eyes were tight, like the day was too bright for him. “We have to keep going, Aria. I don’t know what else to do.”

Neither did she, so they walked.

They reached the hills late in the afternoon. They climbed one and another, and then almost suddenly, there stood Bliss, a man-made mountain amid earthen hills. Aria had never seen a Pod from the outside but knew the largest dome at the center would be the Panop. The off-shooting structures were the service domes, like Ag 6. She’d spent seventeen years in Reverie’s Panop. Contained in one place. It seemed unbelievable to her now. With daylight fading, the Pod’s deep charcoal shape was fast blending into the night.

Perry shifted his weight at her side, silent as he took in the scene. “Looks like a rescue. There are Hovers . . . thirty or so, and a bigger craft. At least fifty people out in the open.”

To her, what he described was just a smattering of dots next to Bliss, lit within a circle of light. The soft drone of engines carried to her ears.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

“Let’s get closer.” They moved quietly across the dry grass, stopping when they reached a rocky perch. Now Aria saw a large square opening in Bliss, a wide-open cavity on the smooth walls of the Pod. The Guardians who came and went wore sterile suits. She knew what that meant. The closed environment was compromised. She’d expected this, but numbness seeped through her limbs.

Perry cursed softly beside her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“There’s a black cart down there,” he said, his expression pained. “Some sort of truck, close to the Pod.” She saw it. It was in miniature, but she saw it. “There are people—bodies on board.”

Her eyes blurred. “Can you see any of their faces?”

“No.” Perry wrapped his arms around her. “Come here,” he whispered. “She could be anywhere. Don’t give up now.”

They sat on the rocks side by side as she forced herself to think. She couldn’t walk out of the darkness and announce herself a Dweller. She needed to come up with a plan. She took her Smarteye from her satchel. It hadn’t helped her reach Lumina at Marron’s, but it would be useful now.

Aria stared at the small black point in the distance. She’d waited enough. She knew what she needed to do. “I have to get down there.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No. You can’t. They’d kill you if they saw you.”

He groaned like the words hurt him physically.

“The Tides need you to be Blood Lord, Perry. I have to go alone. And I need your help up here.”

She told him her idea, describing the disguise she hoped to find and the way she would slip back in. He listened, his jaw rigid, but he agreed to do his part. Aria stood and handed him Talon’s dagger.

“No,” he said. “You might need it.”

She looked at the knife, her throat tight with emotion. No roses or rings with him, but a knife with feathers carved into the handle. A knife that was part of him. She couldn’t accept it.

“This won’t help me down there,” she said. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She just wanted to get back in.

Perry slipped the knife into his boot, but he wouldn’t look at her when he straightened. He crossed his arms and uncrossed them, and then brushed the back of his hand across his eyes.

“Perry . . . ,” she began. What could she say? How could she possibly describe what she felt for him? He knew. He had to know. She hugged him, pressing her eyes closed as she listened to the solid beat of his heart. His arms tightened as she drew away.

“It’s time, Perry.” He let her go. She took a step back, taking in his face one last time. His green eyes. The bend in his nose and the scars on his cheek. All the tiny imperfections that made him beautiful. Without a word, she turned and made her way downhill.

She felt like she was floating as she skimmed over the grass toward Bliss. Don’t stop, she told herself. Keep going. She was downslope in an instant, taking cover behind a row of large crates labeled CGB RESCUE & RECOVERY in reflective lettering. Engines buzzed loudly in her ears. She couldn’t catch her breath. Don’t turn around. She forced herself to focus on the scene before her.

Lights erected on cranes electrified the area with a sharp glare. To her right, she saw the massive mobile structure that appeared to be the heart of the operation, an angular and clumsy craft compared to the pearl blue Hovers nested around it. The curving gray walls of Bliss soared skyward to the left, smooth, broken only by the gaping rift she’d seen from above. A dozen Guardians roamed in the dirt field between. Then she spotted her target. The black truck was parked by several Hovers that sat in the darkness.

Her mother couldn’t be there.

She couldn’t be.

Aria needed to know.

Chapter 40

PEREGRINE

Perry’s eyes locked onto Aria as she huddled by a line of crates in the darkness below. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t blink. What had he done? How could he let her go alone? He knew she was waiting for the right moment to move, but every second that passed, he came closer to sprinting down to her side.

The Guardians retreated into the rescue center, their work winding down as the night deepened. Perry tensed when the perimeter lights shut off, leaving only an illuminated path to the rescue center. He hadn’t expected that, but it would help them. Finally, when everything was still, Aria straightened from her crouch and dashed through the darkness toward the black truck.

His gut twisted as he watched her climb into the bed. Perry could see the tangle of limbs clearly. A dozen people, by his guess. He watched her search through the dead for her mother. He watched with his legs shaking and an ache like a rock caught in his throat. Was this it? Was she going to find Lumina like this? A body, left out in the cold?

He cursed the part of him that wished she’d find her mother this way. It was the only chance Aria would ever return to him. But then what? Wasn’t this what he wanted? For her to go home so that he could return to the Tides?

He couldn’t bear it, standing there, doing nothing. What was happening? How was she feeling? He’d known every small shift in her temper for days. Now he didn’t know anything.

Aria dropped something over the side of the bed. A bulky suit like the Guardians wore. Boots. A helmet. Then she hopped down to the ground and scurried under the truck. He couldn’t see her now but he knew she was undressing in the cramped space, putting on the Dweller clothes. He knew what that meant. She hadn’t found her mother.

She crept from beneath the truck in the suit, a Dweller again. Aria pulled on a helmet and then wove her way through the darkness, drawing as close as she could to the rescue unit. Perry moved within range. There were only two men there now, standing by the entrance ramp. He knew it was as good a chance as they’d ever get, and so did she.

Aria crawled closer, only a few paces away from the ramp, then she turned uphill toward him and signaled that she was ready. It was his move now.

Perry nocked the arrow, his arms steady and sure as he aimed high, to the spotlight that shone down on the entrance. He wouldn’t miss. Not this time.

He let the arrow go.

Chapter 41
ARIA

The spotlight exploded with a deafening pop that burst through the speakers of Aria’s helmet. The two Guardians by the rescue center ramp startled at the sudden darkness. In seconds, a dozen men flooded down the ramp to see what had happened. Aria slipped from the shadows into the commotion and then darted toward the rescue center, her shoulders brushing against Guardians who were hurrying outside.

She put one foot in front of the other through a long metal corridor, passing a pair of Guardians. They barely glanced at her. She wore their clothes. She had a helmet and a Smarteye. She was one of them.

Aria strode with purpose, though she didn’t know where she was going. Her eyes searched frantically as she passed opened doors along the hall. She glimpsed cots and medical equipment. This part of the rescue center nearest the entrance held triage chambers, which didn’t surprise her, but the stillness in the rooms did. Where were the survivors?

Were there any?

How was she going to find her mother?

She slowed as she approached the next chamber, listening first and then peering inside. Aria stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping, making sure she was alone.

She wasn’t.

People lay in stacked bunks along the walls. Not wearing helmets. Unmoving. Aria walked farther into the room, taking in their open wounds and the dark bloodstains that seeped into their grays. They were dead. Every one.

Suddenly she couldn’t escape the stench that clung to her hair, of the bodies she’d had to crawl through outside. Every breath she took, she smelled the odor of death. Desperate now, she searched for Lumina’s face, moving from one row of cots to the other. From one lifeless body to the next. The marks of brutality were everywhere. Mottled yellow bruising. Scratches and ripped flesh. Bite marks.

She couldn’t help imagining what had happened. So many people, turning on each other like rabid animals. Like Soren in Ag 6. Her mother had been trapped in this.

Where was she?

Aria heard a faint voice and spun. Someone approached. She tensed, ready to hide, but then she recognized the voice and froze. Was that Doctor Ward? Lumina’s colleague? He entered the room, glancing through his visor in her direction, and then stopped. Hope surged through her. He would know how to find her mother.

“Doctor Ward?” she said.

“Aria?” For a moment they stared at each other. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and then answered his own question. “You’ve come for your mother.”

“You have to help me, Doctor Ward. I need to find her.”

He came toward her, leveling his intense gaze on her. “She’s here,” he said. They were the words she’d wanted to hear, but the tone was all wrong. “Come with me.”

Aria followed him through the metal halls. She knew what was happening. She knew what he was going to tell her. Lumina was dead. She had heard it in his voice.

She followed him, her head spinning with dizziness, her legs heavy and slow. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t lose Lumina, too.

He took her into a small, bare room with a heavy airlock door that hissed as it closed behind her.

“The storms kept us away,” Ward said. A muscle by his Smarteye twitched. “We were too late.”

“Can—can I see her? I need to see her.”

Ward hesitated. “Yes. Wait here.”

When he left, Aria staggered back. Her helmet clacked against the wall. She slid to the floor. Every muscle shook. Tears ached behind her eyes. She tried to press her palms into them, but her hands smacked into the visor. She panted, her breath loud to her own ears.

The airlock door slid open. Ward pushed a gurney into the small chamber. A long black bag made of thick plastic lay on top. “I’ll be outside,” he said, and left.

Aria stood. Cold emanated from the bag, rising like wisps of smoke. She opened the seal around her gloves and pulled them off. She unfastened the helmet, letting it clatter to the floor. She had to do this. She had to know. Her fingers trembled as she fumbled for the zipper. She braced herself for an opened gash. Bruises. Something terrible, like what she’d seen outside. Then she drew the zipper down, exposing her mother’s face.

She saw no horrible wound, but the pallor of Lumina’s skin was worse, nearly white, but deeply shadowed with purple around her eyes. Her hair fell in messy strands across her closed eyes. Aria brushed it away—Lumina would never have tolerated hair like that—and sucked in a breath at the coldness of her mother’s skin.

“Oh, Mom.”

Tears pushed from the edges of her Smarteye and ran down her cheeks.

She rested her hand on Lumina’s forehead until her skin burned with cold. She had so many questions. Why had Lumina lied about Aria’s father? Who was he? How could she have left Aria and gone to Bliss when she’d known the danger of DLS? But she needed one answer most.

“Where am I supposed to go, Mom?” she whispered. “I don’t know where to go.”

She knew what Lumina would say. That’s a question for you to answer, Songbird.

Aria closed her eyes.

She knew she could answer it. She knew how to put one foot in front of the other even when every step hurt. And she knew there was pain in the journey, but there was also great beauty. She’d seen it standing on rooftops and in green eyes and in the smallest, ugliest rock. She would find the answer.

She bent close to her mother’s face. Quietly she sang the Tosca aria, her voice warbling and breaking, but she knew it didn’t matter. She’d promised Lumina this aria—their aria—so she sang.

The door slid open as she finished. Three Guardians strode into the chamber.

“Wait,” she said. She wasn’t ready to say good-bye. Would she ever be?

One man zipped the bag closed with a quick tug and then wheeled the gurney out. The other two Guardians stayed behind.

“Give me your Smarteye,” said the one closest to her.

Behind him, the other Guardian held a white baton that made a fizzing electrical sound.

Aria lunged for the door on instinct.

The Guardian with the baton blocked her.

Light flashed before her eyes and then everything went black.

Chapter 42

PEREGRINE

Perry couldn’t leave. He stayed on the overlook, waiting for her to come back. What was happening? Had she found Lumina? Was she all right? He watched as the Guardians fixed the light below. He watched as they made their way back into the rescue center and as the night grew still again.

She didn’t come back out, and he realized she never would.

He spun and ran, tearing into the darkness. He should’ve headed west, toward home. But his legs followed the trail of smoke carrying on the wind. Soon he saw the glow of firelight flickering through a stand of trees. Heard the soft pluck of a guitar and men’s voices. He approached, counting six men gathered around the fire.

The guitar went silent as they spotted him. Perry slipped Talon’s knife from his belt. He held it out, bringing a few men to their feet. “A trade. For drink.” He nodded toward the bottles by the fire.

“It’s a fine blade,” said one man. He turned to another man who’d stayed where he sat across the fire. He had braided hair and a long scar from the bottom of his nose to his ear. He watched Perry for a long moment.

“Make the trade,” he said.

Perry handed the knife off, wanting to be rid of it and all its memories. He was given two bottles of Luster. One more than anyone should drink in one night. He took them and moved away from the fire. The guitar picked up its song again. Perry set the bottles down beside him. He’d take his father’s cue tonight.

An hour later, the first bottle stood on end beside him. It wove back and forth on the dirt, riding some invisible tide. Perry started on the other bottle. He should have known it wouldn’t be enough. His body was numb, but not the ache deep inside him. Aria was gone, and no amount of Luster would change that.

The braid-haired man kept looking across the fire at him. Come on, Perry pleaded silently, his hands curling into fists. Get up. Let’s get it over with. It took Braids a few more minutes to come over. He squatted a few feet away, sitting on his heels.

“I heard of you,” he said. He looked sturdy, thick, but Perry sensed he could be quick as a trap. The scar cut a deep line across his cheek.

“Good for you,” Perry slurred. “I got no idea who you are. Nice hair, though. My sister does hers like that.”

Braids looked right at Perry’s burnt hand. “Dispersed life not suiting you, Tider? No elder brother to look after you? To keep you out of trouble?” Braids set a hand down on the dirt and leaned forward. “You reek of misery.”

He was a Scire. Braids would know Perry’s temper right now. How he hurt. How just breathing felt like work. It should have worried him, fighting someone who had the same advantages he did. But Perry heard himself laugh.

“You reek too, man,” Perry said. “Like you’ve been chewing on cud.”

Braids stood. He kicked the full bottle of Luster, sending it spinning into the darkness. The other men rushed over, their excitement like sparks in Perry’s nose. He’d figured he would end up brawling tonight. He knew how people reacted at the sight of him. What man wouldn’t stand taller after beating the spit out of someone like him?

Perry grabbed his knife and stood. “Let’s get to it. See what you can do.”

Braids squared off, flashing a wicked piece of steel with serrated teeth. More a saw than a knife. He looked steady and moved smoothly, but his temper was streaked through with fear.

Perry grinned. “You changing your mind?”

Braids came at him like a shot. Perry felt the bite of the knife on his arm, but not the pain of the wound it opened. A solid wound. The blood that poured from it was dark in the Aether light. For a second, all he could do was watch his blood leak out of him. Run down his arm.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Perry had never fought anyone drunk. He moved too slowly. His legs were too heavy. Maybe it had worked for his father because Perry had been a boy. How hard could it be to hit a kid who’d stood there, wanting it? Looking for anything he could to make things right?

He choked back a sudden rise of bile, realizing the choice he’d have to make if Braids managed to get a knife against his throat. Pledge fealty or die. An easy decision.

“You’re nothing like I’d heard,” Braids said. “Peregrine of the Tides. Twice Marked.” He laughed. “You’re not worth the air you breathe.”

Now was the time to shut him up. Perry spun the blade in his hand, almost dropping it. He made a move. A thrust that wasn’t nearly as fast as it should’ve been. He almost laughed. Knives had never been his weapon. The movement brought another wave of nausea, this one powerful enough to double him up.

Braids rushed him as he choked back the urge to vomit. He drove his knee into Perry’s face. Perry managed to turn his head. Took the brunt of the blow on the temple. He’d spared his nose, but he hit the ground hard. Saw the creep of darkness threatening to take him away.

The kicks kept coming, landing on his back and arms and head. They came from everywhere. Perry felt them dimly, shadows of pain. He didn’t stop Braids. This was the easy way. Staying down. Perry’s head rocked forward as a kick came from behind. The blackness came again, softening the edges of his vision. He willed it to come. Maybe it would make more sense if he felt on the surface as he did inside.

“You’re weak.”

He was wrong. Perry wasn’t weak. That had never been the problem. The problem was that he couldn’t help them all. No matter what he did, people he loved would still suffer and die and leave. But Perry couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stay down. He didn’t know how to give up.

He swept his legs beneath him and sprang to his feet. Braids leaped back at his sudden movement, jumping out of the way, but Perry caught him by the collar. He yanked Braids toward him, the movement whipping his head backward. Perry jammed his elbow into his nose. Blood burst from his nostrils. Perry twisted the blade from Braids’s grip, dodging a punch and driving a fist into his stomach. Braids folded, dropping onto one knee. Perry wrapped an arm around his neck and wrestled him to the dirt.

Perry snatched up the serrated blade from the ground and laid it against the man’s throat. Braids stared up at him, blood pouring from his nose. Perry knew this was the moment he should demand an oath. Pledge to me or die.

He inhaled deeply. Braids’s temper was red fury, all directed at Perry. He’d never submit. Braids would choose death, just as he’d have done.

“You owe me a bottle of Luster,” Perry said.

Then he stood, reeling. The other men had gathered around. He breathed in their tempers, the scents both right and wrong. He looked for the next man who might challenge him. No one came forward.

A sudden twist in his gut had him vomiting right there in front of them. He held on to the knife in case any of them wanted to take a shot while he was heaving, like Braids had. They didn’t. Everything came up at once. He straightened.

“Probably don’t need any more Luster.”

He tossed the knife aside and stumbled into the darkness. He didn’t know where he was going. It didn’t matter.

He wanted to hear her voice. He wanted to hear her tell him he was good. All he heard was the sound of his feet chasing the dark.

Morning came. His head felt like a door slammed closed on it, over and over. His body felt worse. Perry peeled off the shoddy dressing he’d tied around his arm. The cut was jagged and deep. Perry washed it, growing light-headed as it bled freshly.

He ripped a strip off his shirt and tried to bandage it again. His fingers were too shaky. Still too clumsy with drink. He lay back on the gravel and closed his eyes because it was too bright. Because darkness was better.

He woke to a tugging on his arm and shot upright. Braids crouched beside him. His nose was swollen, his eyes red with bruising. The other men stood behind him.

Perry looked down at his arm. The wound was well bandaged, tied off neatly.

“You didn’t ask me to pledge to you,” Braids said.

“You’d have said no.”

Braids nodded once. “I would have.” He took Talon’s knife from his belt and held it out. “I’m guessing you want this back.”

Chapter 43

ARIA

Aria pulled her knees up. She’d woken hours ago in a cramped chamber, an acrid taste coating her tongue. A glove lay discarded in the corner. She’d watched the smudges of blood on the fingers fade from red to rust.

Her eye socket throbbed. They had taken her Smarteye while she was unconscious.

Aria didn’t care.

The wall in front of her had a thick black screen nearly as wide as the room itself. Aria waited for it to open. She knew who she’d see on the other side when it did, but she wasn’t afraid.

She’d survived the outside. She’d survived the Aether and cannibals and wolves. She knew how to love now, and how to let go. Whatever came next, she would survive it, too.

A soft crackling sound broke the room’s silence. Small speakers by the black screen buzzed softly. Aria shot to her feet, her hand aching for the weight of Talon’s knife. The screen parted, revealing a room behind thick glass. There were two men on the other side.

“Hello, Aria,” Consul Hess said, his small eyes pinching in amusement. “You can’t imagine how surprised I am to see you.” He dwarfed the chair on which he sat. Ward stood quiet and serious at his side, his brow wrinkled.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Consul Hess.

His words carried no tone of sympathy. She would never believe him anyway. He’d put her out to die.

“We viewed the ‘Songbird’ message from your mother,” he continued. He held her Smarteye in his palm. “You know, I was unaware of your unique genetic makeup when I put you outside? Lumina kept that hidden from all of us.”

Aria’s gaze snapped to the glass. She understood. They saw her as a diseased Savage. They didn’t want to breathe the same air she did.

“You have the Smarteye,” she said. “What do you want from me?”

Hess smiled. “I’ll get to that. You know what happened here in Bliss, don’t you? You saw it in your mother’s file.” He paused. “You had a taste of it yourself in Ag 6.”

She saw no point in lying. “An Aether strike and DLS,” she said.

“Yes, that’s right. A dual attack. External first. A storm weakens the Pod. Then internal, as the disease manifests. Your mother was among the first to study DLS. She was working toward a cure, along with many other scientists. But as you can see by what happened here, we don’t have an answer. And we may run out of time before we do.”

He glanced at Ward, sending an obvious cue. The doctor spoke immediately, his voice carrying more passion than Hess.

“The Aether storms are striking with intensity not seen since the Unity. Bliss isn’t the only Pod that has fallen. If the storms continue, they will all fall. Reverie will fall, Aria. Our only hope of surviving is to escape the Aether.”

She almost laughed at him. “Then there is no hope. You can’t escape it. It’s everywhere.”

“Outsiders speak of a place that’s free of it.”

Aria tensed. Ward knew about the Still Blue? How could he know that? But of course he would. He studied Outsiders, like her mother did. Like her mother had.

“They’re only rumors,” Aria said. Even as she spoke the words, she knew they might be true. Hadn’t the rumor of Bliss proved to be?

Hess was watching her closely. “So you’ve heard of it.”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re already on your way.”

Aria’s stomach twisted as she realized what he wanted. “You want me to find it?” She shook her head. “I’m not doing anything for you.”

“Six thousand people died here,” Ward said urgently. “Six thousand. Your mother among them. You have to understand. It’s our only option.”

Grief moved through Aria, pressing down on her. She thought of the bodies on the black cart and the people on the cots in the triage room. Bane and Echo had died because of DLS. And Paisley. Would Caleb and the rest of her friends be next?

Her heart pounded as she considered returning to the outside. Was it the thought of seeing Perry that made her pulse hammer? Or maybe she felt she owed it to Lumina to carry on her quest. But she couldn’t just let the Pods crumble.

“You can’t return to Reverie,” Hess said. “You’ve seen too much.”

Aria glared at him. “So you’ll kill me if I don’t agree? You’ve already tried that. You’ll have to do better.”

Hess studied her for a moment. “I thought you might say that. I think I’ve found another way to persuade you.”

A blue square faded on the glass. An image of Perry appeared on a small screen, floating between them. He was in the room with the painted boats and hawks. The room where he’d seen Talon in the Realms.

“Aria . . . what’s happening?” he said frantically. “Aria, why doesn’t he know me?”

The image faded, changing to Perry as he hugged Talon. “I love you, Talon,” he said. “I love you.” And then the image froze.

For an instant, the echo of his voice hung in the tiny chamber. Then Aria flew toward the glass, slamming her hands against it. “Don’t you dare touch them!”

Hess stiffened, startled by her outburst. Then his lips turned up in a satisfied smile. “If you bring me the information on the Still Blue, I won’t have to.”

Aria put her hand on Perry’s image, aching for him. For the real him. Her gaze drifted to Talon. She’d never met him, but it didn’t matter. He was part of Perry. She’d do anything to protect him.

She looked at Hess. “I won’t give you anything if you hurt either of them.”

Hess smiled. “Good,” he said and stood. “I think we understand each other.” The door slid open and he left.

Ward followed but hesitated by the door. “Aria, your mother did leave us with an answer. She left us you.”

It was night as she stepped into the Dragonwing with six Guardians. Aria wore her clothes—the ones she’d retrieved from beneath the black cart—and she had a new Smarteye slipped into her satchel.

In the dim glow of the cabin, she buckled herself into the seat. The Guardians peered at her through their visors with a mixture of fear and repulsion.

Aria met their stares and then told them exactly where to drop her in the Death Shop.

Chapter 44

PEREGRINE

Braids’s name was Reef.

Perry sat with him and his men that night around a fire, a jug of water in his hand instead of Luster. He told them about what he’d done. How he’d gotten into the Dweller fortress. How Talon and Vale had been taken. He told them about Aria in brief words, the pain of losing her too fresh, and explained that he was going home to claim Blood Lord of the Tides.

He talked until he grew hoarse and then some as the questions came. It was nearly morning when the last man fell asleep. Perry lay back and crossed his arms behind his head.

He’d won them all, not just Reef. All six men in the small band. He had inhaled and known the scent of their loyalty. Maybe he’d earned a chance with his fists, but he’d won them with his words.

Perry watched the Aether sky, thinking of a girl who would have been proud of him.

The storms came in force over the coming days, slowing their progress toward the coast. Funnels wheeled above constantly. The glare of the sky brightened nights and stole the warmth from the light of day. Winter had begun.

They traveled when they could, veering around burning fields. At night they found shelter and gathered around a fire, the men telling the story of his fight with Reef over and over. They embellished it, playing out their parts. Embarrassing Perry by slurring the things he’d said. They howled every time the story came to Perry vomiting with his knife held at guard. Reef earned Perry’s respect again by accepting his defeat at the end of the story with good humor. He claimed he’d need his nose broken half a dozen more times before it looked like Perry’s.

Perry had only known Scires among his family. Liv. Vale. Talon. Reef changed what he knew about his Sense. They spoke little but understood each other perfectly. He tried not to think of what this sort of bond would feel like with a girl. Whenever his mind tended that way, it felt like a betrayal.

One night Reef turned to him as they stood under a stand of trees waiting out a pelting rain. “It’d be a different life without the Aether.”

His temper was calm and steady. Thoughtful.

The other men went quiet. Their eyes turned to Perry, waiting for him to speak.

He told them then about the Still Blue. For a while after he’d finished, he and Reef had stood watching the rain beat down on a charred field. Listening to the hiss it made. Perry knew he and Roar could discover this place. Reef and his men would help. Marron and Cinder, too. They’d learn where it was and then he’d take the Tides there.

“We’ll find the Still Blue,” Perry said. “If it exists, I’ll get us there.”

It came out sounding like what it was. Like he’d made a pledge to his men.

After a week of skirting storms, they approached the Tide compound under a night sky lit bright with Aether. Perry strode across a field that crunched like tinder beneath his feet, inhaling the familiar scents of salt and earth. This was where he needed to be. Home with his tribe. He had no illusions of the welcome he would receive. The Tides would blame him for Talon and Vale. But he hoped to convince them that he could help. The tribe needed him now.

A torch flickered to life at the edge of the compound and then he heard shouts of alarm, telling him they’d been spotted by the night watch. Within moments several more torches appeared, blazing spots in the blue night. Perry knew the Tides would think this a raid. He’d been a part of this situation dozens of times before. He would have been the archer on the roof of the cookhouse, where he now saw Brooke.

He waited for an arrow to pierce his heart, but Brooke shouted down. He heard his name again, volleyed from voice to voice. He heard them calling, “Peregrine. Peregrine is back,” and his feet stumbled. Within moments people poured out of their homes and clustered together, forming a mob at the edge of the compound. Tempers churned in the passing breezes. Fear and excitement, filling the air in bold, fragrant slashes.

“Keep walking, Perry,” Reef said quietly.

Perry prayed for the right words, now when he needed them. When there was so much to explain and make right.

The frenzied whispers of the crowd fell off as he closed the final distance. He scanned the faces before him. Everyone was there. Even the children, who were half asleep and confused. And then Perry saw Vale come forward, the silver links of the Blood Lord chain flashing against his dark shirt.

For an instant relief crashed over him. Vale was free. Not a captive in the Dweller Pod. Then he remembered Vale’s last words to him. Telling him he was cursed. Telling him to die.

Perry’s legs twitched, unsteady beneath him. He didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t expected this. He could see that Vale was just as shocked as he was. Vale, always intent and cool, looked pale and shaken, his mouth set in a grim line.

Finally Vale spoke. “Back, little brother? You know what this means, don’t you?”

Perry searched for answers in his brother’s face. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I shouldn’t be? Haven’t you got it backward, Peregrine?” Vale gave a dry laugh and then tipped his chin at Reef. “Don’t tell me you’ve come to make a play for Blood Lord with your little pack here? Don’t you think you’re a bit outnumbered?”

Perry struggled to make sense of things. “I saw Talon,” he said. “I saw him in the Realms. He said you were there. He saw you in the Realms.”

Darkness flashed across Vale’s features. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Perry shook his head, recalling the way Talon had made Perry prove his identity. Talon couldn’t have been wrong about seeing Vale. And he had no reason to lie about it. That meant Vale was lying. A sick feeling bloomed in Perry’s stomach. “What did you do?”

Vale reached down to the sheath at his belt and brought out his knife. “You better turn around right now.”

Perry sensed Reef and his men bracing behind him, but he just stared at the knife in Vale’s hand, his mind churning. The Dwellers hadn’t just been looking for the Smarteye that day on the beach. They had gone after Talon.

“You had him kidnapped,” Perry said. “You set me up. . . . Why?” Then he remembered the Dweller dome with all the rotting food. So much. Enough to waste. “Was it for food, Vale? Did you get that desperate?”

Bear stepped forward. “Our stores are full, Peregrine. Sable’s second shipment came last week.”

“No,” Perry said. “Liv ran. Sable couldn’t have sent the food. Liv never went to the Horns.”

For a moment no one moved. Then Bear shifted, his thick eyebrows knotting in suspicion. “How do you know that?”

“I saw Roar. He’s looking for her. He’s coming here in the spring. He might have Liv with him by then.”

Vale’s face tightened with rage, the last of his guard vanishing. He was caught. “Talon’s better off in there!” he growled. “If you saw him, you’d know he is!”

Shouts of surprise erupted around them.

Perry shook his head in disbelief. “You sold him to the Dwellers?” He didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it earlier. Vale had done the same thing to Liv. Sold her for food. Only it was justified by custom. Archaic, Aria had called it. Perry saw that now.

How many times had Vale lied to him? About how many things?

He caught sight of Brooke in the crowd. “Clara . . . ,” he said, remembering Brooke’s sister. “Brooke, he did it to Clara, too. He sold her to the Dwellers.”

Brooke turned to Vale and screamed. She lunged forward, arms swinging as Wylan stepped in and held her back.

“Vale, is this true?” Bear’s voice boomed.

Vale flung a hand at the sky. “You don’t know what it’s like getting food out of this!” Then he scanned the crowd, stunned, like he realized he’d lost the Tides. He turned back to Perry and drove his knife into the dirt at his feet.

Perry let his own knife fall. They were brothers. This wouldn’t happen with something as cold as a blade.

Vale didn’t wait. He charged low, slamming into Perry’s waist, the power driving through him explosive. In the moment they collided, Perry knew Vale was the toughest opponent he would ever fight. Perry surged backward, his teeth slamming together, but his feet weren’t quick enough.

They fell together, Vale’s shoulder thrusting the air from Perry’s lungs. The instant after Perry hit the ground, he took a blow across the jaw that stunned him. He blinked hard, unable to see, bringing his arms up to cover his face as punches hailed down on him. Perry couldn’t gather his bearings. For the first time it occurred to him that fighting might come as easily to Vale as it did to him.

With his vision returning, Perry heaved up with all his strength. He grabbed hold of the chain around Vale’s neck and pulled, driving his head up. Perry had aimed for Vale’s nose but caught him in the mouth. He heard the snap of breaking teeth as Vale rolled off.

Vale pushed himself to his knees. “You bastard!” he yelled. Blood poured from his mouth. “Talon is mine! He’s all I have left. All he wanted was you.”

Perry rose to his feet. His right eye was already swelling shut. Vale was jealous? Perry felt like he was going to break. He remembered the Dweller with the black gloves chasing him into the ocean. The Dwellers had taken the Smarteye and Talon, but they had still come after him. They had wanted Perry dead.

“You asked the Dwellers to kill me. Didn’t you, Vale? Was that part of your bargain too?”

“I had to get to you first.” Vale spat blood onto the dirt. “I did what I had to do. They wanted you anyway.”

Perry wiped the blood that ran into his eyes. He couldn’t believe it. His brother had done all of this behind his back. He’d lied to the Tides.

Vale launched himself at Perry, but Perry was ready this time. He dodged to the side and wrapped his arm around Vale’s neck. Perry pulled him down. Vale hit the ground face-first and struggled but Perry had him pinned.

Perry looked up. All around him he saw shocked faces. And then he saw his knife glinting on the ground. He picked it up. Perry pulled Vale around and laid the steel against his throat. They weren’t brothers anymore. Vale had lost that privilege.

“Talon will never forgive you for this,” Vale said.

“Talon’s not here.” Perry’s arms shook and his eyes blurred. “Pledge, Vale. Swear to me.”

Vale’s body relaxed, but his breath still came fast. Finally he nodded. “I swear on our mother’s grave, Perry. I’ll serve you.”

Perry searched his brother’s eyes, trying to read what he couldn’t scent. He looked over at Reef, who stood a few paces away, flanked by the rest of his men. Reef knew exactly what Perry wanted. He took a few steps forward and lifted his head, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in deeply, sifting through the hot stench of anger, searching for truth or lie.

He shook his head slightly, confirming what Perry knew, but didn’t want to believe. Vale would never serve him. He could never be trusted.

Vale looked at Reef. He tensed with realization, and then grabbed for the knife, but Perry moved faster. He drew his blade across Vale’s throat. Then he stood, Blood Lord of the Tides.

Chapter 45

ARIA

“What should I tell him when I get there?” Roar asked.

They stood together in Delphi’s courtyard. Spring sang its chattering music into Aria’s ears. Flowers burst up all along the wall, the colors bright against the gray stones. Winter had left broad bare spots on the mountain and the smell of smoke in the air. Now it was time. After months together at Marron’s, Roar and Cinder were heading to the Tides.

To Perry.

“Nothing,” Aria answered. “Don’t tell him anything.”

Roar smirked. He knew how much she missed Perry. They’d spent hours talking about Perry and Liv. But she hadn’t told Roar about her deal with Hess. Perry would have enough to handle as a new Blood Lord. That burden was hers.

“You have nothing to say at all?” Roar asked. “Better have a look at her, Rose. I think she’s ill.”

Rose laughed. She stood with Marron by Delphi’s entrance, resting a hand on her round stomach. Rose was due to have her child any day now. Aria hoped she’d still be there for the birth.

Roar crossed his arms. “Do you really think he’s not going to learn you’re out here eventually?”

“Well, you don’t have to tell him.”

“If he asks, I won’t lie to him. It wouldn’t help if I did.”

Aria sighed. She’d been thinking about this moment for weeks and she still didn’t know what to do. She knew Perry’s fears. She wasn’t a Scire. She was no different than Rose or the girl in his tribe. Perry could already be with her again. Just thinking that made her stomach tighten with hurt.

“Roar!” Cinder growled, waiting by the gate.

Roar smiled. “I better go before he gets angry.”

Aria hugged him. He was close, his cheek pressed to her forehead, so she passed a secret message to him through her thoughts. I’ll miss you, Roar.

“Me too, Halfy,” he whispered, low enough that only she could hear. Then he winked at her and sauntered to the gate.

From the corner of her eye, the wildflowers along the wall caught her attention. “Roar, wait!”

Roar turned around. “Yes?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

Aria ran to the wall, scanning the flowers. She found the right one and plucked it. She drew in its scent and imagined Perry walking beside her, his bow across his back, looking over with his lopsided grin.

She brought the flower to Roar. “I changed my mind,” she said. “Give him this.”

Roar’s eyes crinkled in confusion. “I thought you liked roses. What’s this?”

“A violet.”

Two weeks later, Aria crouched in front of a fire, turning a rabbit over on a wooden spit. She couldn’t see beyond the warm glow of the flames, but her ears told her she was safe in these woods, where only small animals scurried close.

She had left Marron’s days earlier than she’d planned. She had missed Roar far more than she had expected. She’d even missed Cinder’s surly presence. She couldn’t stand to be in the same spaces without them, so she’d readied her pack, said her teary good-byes with Marron, and then set off on her own.

As she listened to the sizzle of the meat and gristle, she remembered the night she’d first seen real fire. How frightening and thrilling it had been to her in Ag 6. She still saw it this way. Perhaps more so. She’d seen the Aether set whole parts of the world to burn. She’d seen fire transform the skin on the back of a broad hand into something knotted and patched with scarring. But she also loved fire now, ended every day like this, rubbing her hands before it, letting it bring forth the sweet ache of her memories.

In the sounds of the night Aria heard footsteps, far off and faint, but she recognized them instantly.

She shot into the darkness, letting her ears guide her. She followed the crunch of his feet on stones and small twigs, coming faster, louder, as his walk became a jog, then a run. She chased the sounds until all she heard was his heartbeat and then his breath and his voice, right by her ear, telling her, in tones as warm as fire, exactly the words she wanted to hear.

Acknowledgments

Many people helped me create this book. I’m deeply grateful to Barbara Lalicki for her editorial insight, unwavering support, and boundless enthusiasm. Maria Gomez provided additional editorial advice. Andrew Harwell helped with a myriad of tasks behind the scenes with efficiency and a great attitude. Sarah Hoy and her team designed a cover that continues to stun me. Melinda Weigel turned an expert eye on the fine details within these pages.

To Josh Adams, a black belt in business savvy, thank you for running everything so smoothly. I think you’re champ.

My sincere thanks to the international scouts and publishers who put their faith in Under the Never Sky. It’s an incredible honor to see my story venture out into the world. For their support, Stephen Moore and Chris Gary also have my appreciation.

Two people aided me in shaping this novel from inception to completion. To Eric Elfman and Lorin Oberweger, my brilliant mentors and dear friends, my most heartfelt gratitude. Thanks also to Lynn Hightower whose mantras, It’s all about once upon a time and Every scene needs a heart, have become my own.

Talia Vance, Katy Longshore, and Donna Cooner turned the solitary pursuit of writing into a team sport. I’m so fortunate to know you. Bret Ballou, Jackie Garlick, and Lia Keyes have each spent countless hours with me under the never sky. Thank you.

Friends and family, thank you for cheering me on over the years as I chased a dream. I couldn’t have caught it without you. In particular, thanks to my parents for being the best role models a daughter could ask for. To my boys: pulling the pin on a love grenade and lobbing it your way.

Finally, to my husband: life is sweet, being rendered to you.

Credits

Cover art © 2012 by Gustavo Marx/MergeLeft Reps, Inc.

Cover design by Sarah Hoy

Copyright

UNDER THE NEVER SKY

Copyright © 2012 by Veronica Rossi

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN 978-0-06-207203-0 (trade bdg.)

ISBN 978-0-06-213195-9 (int. ed.)

12  13  14  15  16  LP/RRDH  10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

EPub Edition © 2011 ISBN: 9780062072054

Version 12212012

FIRST EDITION

Dedication

For Gui and Pedro

Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Copyright

1

I make my move when the tribe is asleep. Footsteps light, I skim across the dirt clearing, the chirp of crickets the only sound in the calm spring night. When I reach Perry’s house, I climb onto the window ledge and stretch up, grasping the rusted flashing that borders the roof.

Here goes.

One.

Two.

Three.

Swinging my legs out and up, I flip myself onto the roof. My landing is almost silent—just the brush of my knees on the stone tiles as I ease my weight down and the slosh of the jug of Luster that’s tied to my belt. People say I’m quiet as a cat. If they could hear as well as me, they’d know that cats are actually pretty loud.

Standing, I dust off my pants and scan the shadowed homes that circle the clearing. I hear a distant snore. The quiet creak of a door somewhere. Otherwise, nothing.

I head for the warm thread of light that seeps through a hole in the roof. It comes from a small gap where a tile cracked a few years ago during an Aether storm. I tread lightly and avoid the noisy spots. Perry and Liv are asleep in the house, but I’m not skulking up because of them. It wouldn’t matter if they heard me coming, but their brother, Vale, is inside as well—home only hours ago from his trip to the north—and I won’t chance waking him.

Kneeling by the sliver in the tiles, I bend down and peer through it, blinking as my eyes adjust to the light . . . and see a falcon with its wings spread wide. The tattoo on Perry’s back. He’s sprawled on his stomach in the loft, which is right below me. I try to look for Liv, knowing that if Perry is here, she’s curled up in front of the hearth, but I have a poor angle. There’s only one way to see her tonight.

I bring my mouth to the hole and raise my voice just enough. “Perry! Wake up!” He doesn’t move, so I try a little louder. “Wake up, you oaf!”

Perry rolls onto his back and starts to snore.

There’s a saying that warns people against waking sleeping giants. I should listen to it, but I want to see Liv too badly. I pull the jug of Luster from my belt and unstop the cork, muffling the pop with my hands. It’s a shame to waste it, but I don’t see any other way—and this could be entertaining. I bring the jug to the gap and pour the Luster through it.

I hear a solid thump as the roof shakes beneath my feet. The warm light from inside disappears as three fingers poke through the hole. Scrabbling, wrathy fingers full of murderous intent. After a moment, they’re replaced by a green eye that’s shiny like a cat’s—really like a cat’s.

Perry mutters a few curses and then asks, “What’s wrong with you?” His voice is muffled, but I hear him perfectly.

“Get Liv and meet me on the northern trail,” I say.

The cat eye moves left and right as Perry shakes his head. “No. Beach trail. Someone poured Luster on me and I have to wash it off.”

“Right. Beach trail in five minutes. Don’t take too long.”

Only one finger appears this time. The obscene gesture makes me grin.

I recork the Luster and climb down. There’s one more thing to take care of before I meet Perry and Liv. I cross the clearing again, guided by the light of the Aether, the rugged cottages of the Tide compound spreading around me.

At Brooke’s house, I rap softly on the door.

She eases it open a few moments later and smiles. “The cave?” she whispers.

Brooke is Liv’s closest friend, and for the past year she and Perry have been together. Half that time Perry has been trying to end it. Perry will probably be streaked at me for bringing her along, but so what? I like things the way they are.

I nod and lift the bottle of Luster. “You coming?” I ask, though I already know she is. Brooke is always up for anything when Perry is involved.

“I’ll get my bow.” She disappears into the house.

I look around the compound as I wait. When it’s quiet this way, it’s easy to remember the night I came here with my grandmother twelve years ago. I was barely seven then. Gram and I walked up out of the darkness on a spring night just like this. We’d been traveling for weeks and the soles on my shoes had worn through. Gram knocked on the first door we came to, and when Perry’s father answered, I thought he was the biggest man I’d ever seen. He invited us inside and had bread and fennel soup brought to us. Three kids watched us from the loft above as we ate, but it was the girl I couldn’t take my eyes off.

The next day Gram and I were given a room behind Bear and Molly’s house, which was really a storage shed with wooden walls that made clicking sounds as they expanded during the rainy months. My gaze moves to their house now. Gram is gone and the walls stopped clicking a few years ago, but I still sleep there.

Brooke returns with a bow and quiver over her shoulder and we make our way out of the compound without a word. Where we’re going, the northern cave, is an hour away. It’s still part of the Tides’ territory, but there’s always a risk when you travel that far away—especially at night—of being attacked by the dispersed. The danger is part of the fun.

As we approach the beach trail, I spot two tall figures with pale hair up ahead and frown. It ruffles me a bit, not being able to tell apart my best friend from my girlfriend from this distance. But then one of the figures dashes across the sandy trail and jumps into my arms and I’m reasonably sure it’s Liv and not Perry.

“Can’t you be away from me even a few hours?” Liv whispers in my ear.

I pull her closer. The way she feels against me makes my heart stop. “Of course not.”

“Me either.” She plants a kiss on my cheek and darts away before I can kiss her back, leaving me smiling at the darkness.

We walk the beach trail, winding our way to the ocean. When we reach the water, Perry launches himself into the dark waves as Liv, Brooke, and I wait along the shore.

I drop my arm over Liv’s shoulders. “He’s overreacting, isn’t he? I didn’t spill that much on him.”

Liv taps the bridge of her nose. “It was enough,” she says, and I understand. Like Liv, Perry is a Scire and has a sense of smell as strong as my hearing. It wasn’t being wet or sticky that was bothering him, it was the sweet scent of the Luster.

When he’s done swimming, we pick up the northern trail, which will take us all the way to the cave. The Aether does a slow dance above us, flowing in veils that give enough light to keep us from stumbling in the darkness. Even so, Perry takes the lead because of his night vision. Because Perry is out in front, Brooke is out in front.

“Well?” I ask Liv as we settle into a comfortable pace. Her long blond hair shines in the darkness, and the line of her nose is painted in blue Aether light. “How was he?”

He is Vale, Liv and Perry’s older brother. He’s also the bastard who leads the Tides as Blood Lord and who has never approved of my relationship with Liv.

“He’s fine,” Liv replies. “He was tired from the trip. I could tell he was anxious to get home.” Vale arrived earlier, after supper. For the past month, he’s been away negotiating with a northern Blood Lord, Sable of the Horns. The Tides’ food situation is getting desperate. Aether storms for the last winters have been brutally strong, torching stretches of farmland, so our crop yields have dropped lower than ever. Vale told us that when he returned from seeing Sable, he’d have solutions. He promised us we wouldn’t go hungry.

“He was in good spirits, seeing Mila and Talon,” Liv continues. Vale’s wife and son are both ill. It’s been hard for Perry and Liv, and I can’t imagine how that must make Vale feel. I try not to think about it. I’d rather not waste my sympathy on him.

Liv kicks a stone. I hear it skitter over the dirt trail. “I think he was relieved to see they’re doing well. I mean . . . as well as can be expected. He spent most of the night telling Talon about his travels through Ranger’s Edge. He said it was the hardest journey he’s ever taken. That he didn’t know what cold was until this past month.”

I nod. The Edge is known for its harsh winds and icy slopes. “Anything else?” I ask. Like everyone, I want to know what solutions Vale has come up with.

Liv is quiet for so long that I begin to wonder if she heard me. Finally she looks over and says, “He asked me to go hunting with him in the morning.”

My knees lock up. “He did?”

Liv turns when she realizes I’ve stopped. She nods. “Perry was there too, but Vale was clear. He only wants me to go with him.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah,” Liv says. “Huh.”

As we resume our walk, I can’t stop thinking that this request—command?—is strange. Vale seldom hunts; he’s usually too busy attending to his duties as Blood Lord. When he does hunt, he rarely includes Perry or Liv. My guess is that he doesn’t like competition and wants to be the only Scire.

There’s little warmth between the siblings now, but it wasn’t always this way. When their father was still Blood Lord, they were close. We all knew what happened to Perry in their house when Jodan drank, and I think the terror of those nights kept the three of them bonded. I can still remember Liv and Vale sitting on either side of Perry in the cookhouse, pressed against him like a human shield after he’d taken a beating. But when Vale became Blood Lord after Jodan died, things changed. Vale keeps Liv and Perry at a distance now. The day he put the Blood Lord chain around his neck, he became their lord first and their brother second.

Liv’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “What do you think he wants?”

“Maybe he just wants to hunt,” I say, but we both know that can’t be true.

Vale always has hidden motives.

After an hour, the trail brings us to a bluff overlooking a small cove. Perry and Brooke have already climbed down to the beach. I see the flash of sparks below—a blade striking flint. Perry is at work starting a bonfire.

Liv and I descend the slope, a climb we’ve done a hundred times. When I hear her foot slide on the loose dirt behind me, I offer her my hand. “Here, love.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m scared. Take my hand?”

She humors me—I never fall—but I get what I want: her hand in mine. An excuse to feel a bit of her strength as we make our way down the hill. And a window into her thoughts.

We climb a little farther down before I hear her.

Still scared, or are you better now?

Her voice is clear in my mind. As clear as if she’d spoken into my ear. I don’t know any other Auds who can hear people through contact. Like Perry’s night vision, my Sense came in a different shade than is usual.

“Terrified,” I answer. “I may need you to hold me later.”

Liv pulls her hand free and shoves me softly. “Then move faster.”

By the time our feet find the sand, Perry has the fire burning well. He sits before the dancing flames with Brooke nestled against him. Her hand is resting on his thigh. His arm is around her waist. Probably, they’re not splitting up tonight.

When Perry isn’t around, Brooke asks Liv and me why he doesn’t like her more. “Why am I always the one chasing him?” she says, and gestures to herself. “What more can he possibly want?” Self-confidence is not a problem for Brooke. Perry’s never going to be the one chasing her, but that’s not how I answer. I tell her that he just needs time and that she should keep trying to seduce him. I’m a good friend to Perry like that.

I sit on the opposite side of the fire and Liv sits between my legs, leaning back against my chest. We’ve perfected this position. I love the way her long legs look stretched out in front of me. The top of her head is only inches from my lips. I press a kiss there, and then take a drink from the jug of Luster. It goes down like liquid coals, spreading heat through my stomach and out to the rest of me. I pass the jug to Liv, and sit back on my hands.

Brooke and Liv talk about something Talon said earlier, a puppy crush he has on Willow, who at thirteen is nearly double his age of seven. Perry smiles, as he always does when talk turns to his nephew. I suck the taste of spiced honey from my lips, my focus shifting to the sound of their voices as the Luster wraps me in a mellow fog. I draw a deep breath, feeling Liv’s weight against my chest, smelling salt and water and fire in the air. After a little while, I hear what I’ve been waiting for. Husky and pure, Liv’s laugh is the best sound in the world. I close my eyes and savor it.

This is what I wanted tonight. Time away from the tribe with Liv and Perry, and even with Brooke. With no responsibilities and nothing to do except be. It hasn’t turned out the way I expected, though. I have everything I need right here, but I can’t shake the anxious feeling in my gut. Why does Vale want to talk to Liv alone? And why so soon after his return from the north?

Some time later, Perry stands. “Let’s leave these two alone,” he says as he pulls Brooke to her feet.

Right. I’m sure that’s exactly what’s motivating him. They head off together into the darkness, toward the cave just up the beach. Definitely not splitting up tonight.

When they’re gone, Liv turns in my arms. “I guess we’re alone,” she says, giving me an innocent look that’s anything but.

“Mm hmm. I guess we are.” I slide my hand beneath her chin and bring my lips to hers. Her skin is warm and she tastes like Luster. Somehow there is a bit of sand in our kiss. With Liv, there is always something unexpected, but not the way she makes me feel. That never changes. One kiss and I’m hungry—starved for more of her—but she surprises me by drawing away. Leaning back, she studies me through narrowed eyes.

“What is it, Livy?” My hand is wrapped around her hip. I slide it to her back so I can think clearly. Somewhat clearly. So I have a chance at holding a coherent thought in my head.

In the firelight Liv’s long lashes look like gold threads. Her gaze shifts from my left eye to the right and back, like she’s searching for the one that will open to my soul. The truth is either one will.

“I shouldn’t have said anything earlier,” she says.

I shake my head. “No. Of course you should have.” As a Scire, Liv can scent my temper. She reads my moods, no matter what I do. I can’t protect her from my worry. “Don’t ever keep things from me. You always know how I feel, and I want the same. No secrets . . . all right?”

Liv nods. She stares into the darkness, her eyebrows drawn in thought. “Do you think it’s about us?” she asks after a moment.

“Yes.”

“You do?”

I shrug. “You’re part of me, Olivia. Anything that involves you is always about us.”

Liv’s mouth curves into a smile. She brushes her thumb over my bottom lip. Maybe the sand came from me? I don’t know, and the way she’s staring at me, it’s all I can do to keep my breathing even.

“I like it when you call me love,” she says.

“What? I’ve never called you that.” Lie. I do it all the time. “Oh, you mean earlier? I said Liv. You just have terrible hearing.”

She jabs me in the ribs.

“Ouch!”

“What was that?” Liv says. “I couldn’t hear you.” She digs her fingers into my side again.

“You asked for it now.” I twist away, pulling her with me, and the battle begins. We roll over each other, tumbling, wrestling, tangling in the sand until my hands find her hands and my lips find her lips and then we slow. We slow and slow and slow until we move together as one.

2

What do you think they’re talking about?” I ask as I circle back to Perry.

We’re on sentry duty on the eastern post. Our lookout spot is under the shade of an oak tree at the top of a knoll. The warm spring morning has given way to a hot afternoon. I’ve created a small track of trampled grass around the tree, where Perry sits. My gaze moves to the woodland to the south. Liv and Vale are out there somewhere.

Perry plucks a blade of grass from his mouth. “You know that’s the twentieth time you’ve asked me that.”

“I didn’t know that. Should I stop?”

“Not if you’re trying to drive me mad.” Perry puts the blade of grass between his teeth and gives me a wide grin. “You’re close.”

“It would help if you said something besides I don’t know. Give me something, Per. Anything at all.” I point to the ground. “What do you think they’re saying this very second?”

“This very second?”

“Yes. Right now.”

Perry’s gaze moves across the green hills to the south. “I think it’s the second before one of them says something. Maybe they’re taking a moment to think. Maybe they’re breathing—I hope they’re doing that.”

I lift my hands. “Never mind.” I go back to pacing circles around the oak tree until my thoughts overflow again. “But maybe he isn’t going to do what we all think he’s going to do.”

I frown, noticing that Perry has a feather in his mouth now. I’m about to ask why so many things are suddenly ending up in his mouth when I see that he’s replacing damaged fletching on his arrows. He plucks the feather from his lips and threads it onto the wooden shaft.

“I’m going to need more than that, Roar. Who isn’t doing what we all think?”

“Your brother,” I say. “People have been wondering what kind of deal he made with the Horns. Bear and Molly think he’s selling off part of the territory in exchange for food. And I’ve even heard a few rumors that he went to pledge the Tides to Sable, but they’re just guesses.” I take a step closer to him. “What if Vale’s plan is something completely different? Something no one’s even thought of?”

Perry brings the arrow to eye level and inspects the goose feather he’s just slotted into place. “It’s possible. He was vague about his plans before he left.”

“That’s right,” I say. “And it would be just like him to do something surprising. Something underhanded.”

Perry cuts a dark glance my way. “That’s not what I said.”

“But it has crossed your mind. He’s devious, Perry. And he’s a hypocrite, too. He marries Mila, a Seer, but he has a problem with Liv and me being together because I’m not a Scire? How can he do that? It should be our choice, not his. Traditions are for the faint of heart. Are you going to refuse to be with anyone who isn’t a Scire?”

Perry sweeps the leftover feathers into his leather satchel. “I’m going to forget you said those things about my brother,” he says without looking at me, “and I won’t waste my time talking about something that’s years away from happening to me, if at all.”

I have no idea what kind of answer that is. “Do you mean you would refuse?”

Perry looks up, his eyes darting past me to the slope below. He jumps to his feet and yanks his bow across his shoulder. I see what he’s spotted. Our replacements, Collins and Wylan, are walking up the hill. Our sentry shift is over.

“Let’s move. Vale and Liv should be back by now,” Perry says, his words clipped. He rushes down the hill, bow in hand, his feet tearing down the grassy slope.

It’s only now, in this very second, that I realize he’s anxious, too.

As Perry and I approach the eastern entrance to the compound, I hear a sound that turns my blood to ice.

Liv is yelling.

I sprint across the clearing to her house, leaving Perry behind, and barrel through the door past Mila, who is leading Talon outside. Vale’s broad form fills up the small common room. His dark hair is pulled back by a leather strap, enhancing the sharp lines of his profile. With his coloring and muscled build, and especially with the heavy links of the Blood Lord chain around his neck, he looks just like his father.

Liv stands by the hearth. As far away from Vale as she can be. She turns to me, her blond hair whipping out. She’s out of breath and her eyes flash with rage. I have never seen her this furious. It stops me dead in my tracks.

Vale sees me and purses his lips. “Leave,” he says, pointing to the door. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“How can you say that?” Liv yells. Her voice is hoarse from screaming. “You know it does!”

“For the last time, Olivia, I will not tolerate that tone of voice.”

“You’re not my father, Vale!”

“But I am your lord. Lower your voice or you’ll be sorry.”

I don’t understand what’s happening. Usually Vale and Perry are the ones at the point of going to blows. Usually Liv is trying to stop them.

“You want to tell me how to talk now? Well, you can’t anymore! You gave me away. You lost that right when you sold me!”

“What?” It’s only one word, but my voice breaks on it.

Liv turns to me. “He wants me to marry into the Horns. He sold me to them! Tell him, Vale! Tell him what you did.”

“I don’t want you to do this, Olivia. I need you to.”

Sounds splinter like a mirror breaking. Vale is still talking, but I don’t hear him any longer. I hear Liv’s words in fragments.

Marry

Horns

Sold me

My hands are shaking. I squeeze them into fists. My mind isn’t working fast enough. I can’t believe what I’ve just heard. It makes no sense. I’m yelling before I’ve caught up with my thoughts. “No! You can’t do this!”

“Get him out of here,” Vale commands Perry, who stands at the threshold.

The timbre in his voice—impatient, irritated, like I’m a nuisance, a stray dog that has wandered in—snaps my control.

I lunge for Vale, swinging.

I’m quicker than anyone in the Tides, but he’s ready for me and turns away. My fist barely grazes his mouth. Vale answers my punch with a blow to the back of my head, catching me behind my right ear. My vision goes black. I pitch forward and my elbows crash against the floorboards. Vale’s foot—it must be his foot—slams into my back, sending me onto my chest.

My right ear rings, the sound disorienting, consuming me. I blink hard. A sideways room appears but it’s blurred and rocking and won’t stay still. I hear Perry curse behind me. My teeth slam together as he wrenches me upright, and then yanks me toward the door. The room won’t stop tilting; Vale’s blow has thrown off my balance. I stumble after Perry, struggling to keep my feet beneath me. We squeeze through the doorway, our shoulders jamming together, and burst out into the open.

“Fool!” Perry says under his breath. He’s still gripping my arms and good thing, too. If he lets go, I know I’ll kiss the ground again.

It’s dusk and almost everyone is here, gathered in groups around the clearing, gaping at us. Soon it will be supper, but that’s not why the tribe is milling around. Not anymore.

“Where’s Liv?” I ask, looking over my shoulder. I don’t see her behind me.

“Shut up and walk,” Perry growls.

We make it halfway to the eastern gate when a voice lashes out behind us. It’s deep and commanding, but sharp as a whip crack.

“Peregrine, stop.”

3

Just keep your mouth shut,” Perry says through his clenched teeth. He releases my arm and we turn to Vale, who creates a wake as he strides through the gathered crowd.

“Let him cool off, Vale,” Perry says. “Let him walk away.”

That’s not going to happen. Vale’s lip is gushing. Blood rolls down his jaw and drips off his chin, speckling his pale shirt. I didn’t hit him squarely, but even a light punch will push the tender skin against a tooth and break it open.

Seeing the blood makes me realize what I’ve done. I could punch anyone in the tribe and the punishment would be extra work. Maybe a day without food. But Vale is our Blood Lord. I’ve made a direct challenge to his authority. What I’ve done could get me thrown out of the tribe—or worse. For sure, it’ll get me a beating.

“Leave him out of this, Vale!” It’s Liv. She rushes up, the hilt of her half-sword peeking over her shoulder.

Vale’s mouth pulls into a smirk when he sees her. “Well, which is it, Olivia? One moment you tell me he is involved and the next he isn’t.”

Liv answers by reaching up and drawing the weapon at her back in a brisk, powerful swipe.

There’s a ripple of movement. Hissing sounds carry to my ears from across the clearing as swords slide from their sheaths. The Tides warriors have taken oaths swearing to protect Vale at all costs. I’m one of them. I swore to do that myself.

What have I started? Suddenly everything feels out of control.

Vale lifts a hand. “Stand down,” he says, annoyed. “Put away your weapons.” Around me, knives and swords lower and disappear.

Satisfied that he has the tribe under control, Vale draws two fingers over his chin and then holds them up. The blood on them is bright red even in the fading daylight. “Just so we’re clear,” he says to me, “you’re involved now.”

He steps closer, the crunch of his boots on the dirt carrying to my ears, though the ringing hasn’t stopped. Vale draws near enough that I see the dark green of his eyes. Close enough that I see Perry and Liv in his strong nose and the slight tilt of his head. In the way he measures me, like he’s gauging the heat coming off a fire.

“Because you mean something to my brother and sister,” he says calmly, “I’ll give you a choice I ordinarily wouldn’t. Leave?” he asks. He shifts his weight, tilting his head to the other side. “Or stay and pay the price?”

Banishment or a beating. It’s an easy choice. “Stay,” I answer.

Vale’s eyebrows climb. He smiles. “You might regret that.” He looks to Perry, who’s still beside me. “Hold him, Peregrine. And keep him still unless you want to take his place.”

The hair on my arms lifts. It sounds like an offhand comment—but it isn’t. Nothing is coincidental with Vale. He calculates everything.

“No, Perry!” I won’t let him take my punishment. I step in front of him, but he shoves past me.

“Since you offered,” he says, “I will take his place.”

Vale’s eyes widen, but his surprise is false. He shakes his head, like he’s disappointed, but he’s gotten exactly what he hoped for. “If that’s what you want.”

“I do,” Perry says, still as death. “And I’ll try not to hit you back.”

A murmur moves through the crowd. Perry has taunted Vale in front of everyone. There’s no turning back now.

I move to Liv’s side and whisper, “I’m sorry.” It’s a weak offering, but there’s nothing I can do. This isn’t about me or Liv any longer. I don’t know how this became a battle between Perry and Vale, but that’s how everything seems to end up.

Perry and Vale.

Liv doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even look at me. Her eyes are fixed on her brothers. Brooke appears at her other side and glares at me.

I look away and scan the people around us, finding Bear and Molly, Gray and Old Will. I know what they’re thinking. We’re all remembering the shadow of bruises on Perry’s face. On his arms and back. Only the youngest in the tribe escaped those memories—those too young to have known Jodan. The rest of us carry the guilt of those beatings inside us. We were afraid of Perry’s father. We did nothing to stop him. And here we are. In the same situation again.

A small figure darts out from the crowd. Talon looks from his father to Perry. “What’s wrong? What are you doing, Dad?”

Uncertainty flickers in Vale’s eyes. “Get home, son,” he says. When Talon doesn’t move, Vale says, “Mila, take him inside.”

Talon dodges out of his mother’s reach. “No! I don’t want to go!”

“Talon,” Perry says, “it’s all right. Go inside.”

When Talon stops to listen to Perry, Wylan grabs his arm and drags him away. For long moments after I can’t see him, I hear Talon arguing, his voice raised, crying, as he’s hauled to his house.

At the solid thud of a door shutting, Vale walks up to Perry. They stand eye to eye, both well over six feet tall. Vale is older by seven years. It has always been a significant gap, but I don’t see a day between them now. They are so different—one dark and the other light—but the look in their eyes is the same. Unbending.

This is the challenge we’ve all been waiting for. It will be, if Perry does what he’s threatened and fights back.

He holds his arms out wide. “I’m ready, Vale.”

I see that he is ready. Perry has taught me everything I know about fistfights. I take in his broad stance and the loose set of his shoulders, and hear his voice telling me, “It hurts less when you’re relaxed.” I see his expression grow distant and hear him say, “Never show emotion. It only feeds them.” If anyone knows how to stand and take a hit, he does. Perry won’t even flinch. I know he won’t.

Talon is shut inside his house, but through mortar and tile and across a hundred paces I still hear him crying. Outside the tribe is silent.

Bracing.

Vale drives his fist into Perry’s stomach. He moves surprisingly fast for someone his size, and he’s merciless, using the full power of his substantial strength.

It’s a hammer of a blow. I know because Perry doubles over and my breath is gone and Liv is trembling beside me. I know because Perry gasps as he hugs his waist and Vale is flexing his hand, opened and closed. The blow hurt him, but not nearly as much as it hurt Perry.

When Perry straightens, his face is red. His eyes are half open and unfocused like he’s somewhere else, maybe in a memory. If he is, I don’t want to know what it is.

“That was for Roar,” Vale says. He speaks quietly, for Perry’s ears only, but I hear him. Every Aud in the clearing hears him. “This one is just for you, little brother. Try not to hit me back.”

He punches Perry again in the same spot. Even harder.

This time Perry buckles and falls, thudding down to one knee. I watch him muffle ragged coughs against his forearm. I watch his shoulders shake as he struggles for control over the pain we all know he’s feeling. I see it through a blur. He was quick to recover after the first punch, but not this time. Every second that passes, my ear rings louder. Every second, I’m closer to drawing Liv’s half-sword and going after Vale.

Liv tenses beside me. I grab her hand, keeping her at my side. Neither one of us can step in right now. Perry has to stand on his own. If he doesn’t, Vale wins.

Finally Perry climbs to his feet, but he’s hunched over, unable to straighten all the way. I notice that he’s failing at one of his own lessons; there is hatred in his eyes.

“Are you finished?” he asks, his voice strained.

Vale isn’t done. I know he isn’t. But Liv breaks away from me and hooks her arm through Perry’s. “Yes, he’s finished,” she snarls at Vale. “You’ve brought enough happiness to our family today, haven’t you?” Then she looks at me as she tows Perry away, her gaze willing me to follow.

She didn’t need to tell me. Wherever they go, so do I.

No one says a word in the half hour it takes us to walk to the sea. I’m stuck listening to the shallow breaths my best friend is taking because of me.

I should have known Vale would do this. Perry is fiercely protective of Liv and Talon and me. Over everyone in the Tides. Vale took advantage of that trait. He twisted the situation so he could show his dominance over Perry—the main threat to his power as Blood Lord. He even calculated the blows he delivered, punching Perry in the stomach so the result of his punishment would be hidden from the tribe. Tomorrow, instead of remembering brutality, the Tides will remember justice.

I know he planned it that way. It’s all clear now. All the strategy I just witnessed.

It makes me sick.

When we’ve left the compound behind us and reached the pressed sand by the water, Liv stops. It’s almost dark and a thick blanket of fog is rolling in from the ocean. It tumbles toward us, swirling through the air in waves.

“I want to see, Perry,” Liv says.

I shove my fingers into my hair, tugging until my scalp hurts. I know where this is going. There is more torture to come.

Perry shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Show me anyway.”

“Liv—”

“I don’t care! Let me see.”

I hate this. They did this when they were younger, too. Liv always had to inspect him afterward. It’s like she wants to feel each and every bruise herself.

Perry mutters a string of curses. Liv crosses her arms and waits. She never backs down. At nearly six feet, she’s only a few inches shorter than him and every bit as stubborn. At times like this I wonder if they’re twins who were somehow born a year apart.

Perry shakes his head and finally relents. He looks away, his neck corded, his arms flexed so tight as he lifts up his shirt that I half expect the material to tear. A bruise has already bloomed on his stomach—I see it even in the twilight—but the worst part is the look on his face. I bite down until my jaw aches, willing this moment to end. Shame doesn’t belong on Perry. It’s the last thing he should ever feel.

After a moment, he tugs his shirt down. “Enough, Liv. I’m fine,” he says, but Liv still doesn’t move away. I know she’s searching for his temper to see if he really is fine.

“You are?” she asks.

Perry nods. “Yes,” he says. He sounds spent. Liv’s concern has worn him down. Force has never been the way to break him. I wonder if Vale knows that.

Liv steps back, satisfied at last. She looks at me and I can’t ignore how this started any longer. “What did Vale say to you, Liv?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not doing it,” she says dismissively. She strides toward me. “Have you lost your mind, Roar? How could you do that?”

“I need to know what he said.”

“Vale could’ve had you killed! Did you even consider that?”

“Olivia, tell me.”

She shoves me in the chest. “Did you even think?”

I grab her wrists, trapping her hands against me. She tugs away, but I hold her fast and stare into her eyes. I want her to tell me I’m imagining everything. That none of this is really happening. “Please, Liv . . . I need to know what he said.”

I release her hands and she takes a step back. She looks to Perry and back to me. I don’t recognize the expression on her face. “He told me he made an arrangement. All the food we need? Vale sold me for it. I’m supposed to marry Sable.” Her mouth quivers into a humorless smile and she glances at Perry again. “He fetched a good price for me. Enough food to keep the Tides fed through next winter. I guess I’m expensive.”

She tries to laugh but it’s strained and thin. Nothing like the sound I know. And then her eyes fill and she turns her back to me and everything inside of me rips and tears. Every muscle. Every bone in my body. I can’t move. I can’t move and the ringing that had just begun to fade in my ear is drowned by the roar of blood.

She’s mine. The words rage through my mind.

Liv is mine.

I must have spoken them aloud because Liv’s shoulders jolt and she darts away. I follow her and collide with Perry, who’s saying something to me. There’s a gap that feels like an hour before his words sink in.

“Let her go. Give her some time, Roar. She wants to be alone.”

I watch as she disappears into the curling fog. Liv flees when she’s unsure. Like Perry, she thinks on the run. I know this, but my stomach still twists as I watch her leave. I want her to need me right now. She doesn’t. Somehow, I both hate her and love her for it.

For what feels like a lifetime, I stare at the spot where she vanishes. Then I look at Perry. “What do I do now?” My head pounds from Vale’s punch.

Perry rubs a hand over his jaw. “Stay here,” he says. “I’ll be back.”

Pressing a hand to his stomach, he jogs back to the compound.

4

When Perry is gone, I look around me. The fog has moved inland and I can’t see more than a hundred paces in any direction. The surf is rougher than it was last night, the waves foaming as they pound against the beach. I picture bruises spreading across the sand and shake my head, trying to get the image to go away.

Pulling my knife from the sheath at my belt, I spin the blade around my wrist, tossing it, flipping it fast, fast, faster, concentrating on just this. On the focus I need in order to do these tricks and keep my fingers intact.

Without Perry and Liv, I feel unhinged and I shouldn’t. I should be more like my mother, who didn’t let herself care. Who moved from one man to the next with the seasons. There was always someone better, worth uprooting everything for. A new man for me to call father for a few months when, in reality, my father was nothing more than a roaming trader who was a drunk.

Rush. His name comes to me now. Mother said he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes on, next to me. That’s what I was to her: an achievement in fine looks. A face that she could pinch and kiss and then send away.

It took all of one day for Liv to understand me better. Less than a day. The very morning after Gram and I came to the Tides, Liv and Perry tracked me down in my new home in the shed. “I think you should be our friend,” Liv said. I didn’t even know her name yet. Then, she was just the golden-haired girl from up in the loft. When I asked her why, she replied, “Because you need us.” I looked at Perry, who said, “All right,” and then I said, “All right,” and then everything was all right.

I fumble the knife and the blade slices into my finger. Cursing, I suck on my thumb, tasting copper. It’s been years since I cut myself.

“First rule of knives: they cut.”

I look up at the voice. Perry walks over, a bottle of Luster in one hand. “I thought this would help.” He gives it to me and sits. “Has she come back yet?”

Unstopping the cork, I take a drink. “No. Not yet.” I drink again, feeling the warmth of the Luster move through me. Maybe my father and I have more in common than our looks. “I can’t let this happen, Perry. We have to find another way. We have to do something.”

Perry nods. “I’ll talk to Vale.” His gaze slides over to me. “But I doubt there’s anything I can say that will change his mind.”

“You can change his mind. He’s scared of you. He knows the tribe would do well with you as Blood Lord.”

“The tribe doesn’t want me as—”

“They do.”

“There are plenty of people who doubt whether I could—”

“To hell with the doubters.”

Perry smirks at me. “Roar, if you interrupt me once more, I’ll . . .” He rubs the back of his neck and lets out a breath. “I’ll stop talking.”

“Doubters don’t mean a damn thing,” I tell him. “I doubt it’ll rain tomorrow, but that doesn’t mean I control the rain. What I think has no bearing on what is. You would make a great Blood Lord. Better than Vale. Better than your father.” I take another pull and then pass him the bottle. “The wise ask questions, Perry. The weak doubt.”

He gives me a halfhearted smile. “Where’d you hear that?”

“I just thought of it. And see? I’m right.”

We fall silent and I know it’s my doing. I’m the one who brought up his father. The bottle grows lighter as we pass it back and forth. The heat of the Luster begins to pull me back together. When Perry leans back onto his elbows, I catch him wincing from the corner of my eye. If I’d been the one to take Vale’s punches, I’d probably still be down. I’d be pissing blood for a week, no doubt.

I’m not sure how he came between me and Vale. Why he had to confront Vale on my behalf, or Liv’s, or anyone else’s in the tribe. When it matters—when it’s a tough situation—Perry always gets pulled in.

I look at my thumb, seeing a dark line where I sliced through a callus. I wonder if it’s the same thing with him. He’s been through enough—with both his father and Vale—that we think he is callused. That taking a blow is easier for him because he’s made of tougher material than the rest of us. Maybe so. Maybe he is tougher. But when a cut is deep, it’s still just flesh beneath.

“Thank you for earlier,” I say, breaking our silence. What I really want to say is I’m sorry, but those words don’t seem to want to come out.

“’Course, Ro. Anytime.” His tone is casual, but I know he means it. “I’ll talk to Vale tomorrow. You know I’ll do everything I can.”

I nod. What I know is that he has to do everything he can. Vale would never listen to me—especially not after tonight. And Liv can’t marry someone else. It can’t happen.

“We were supposed to be brothers one day, Per. Real brothers . . . family.” I don’t know what I’m saying. The Luster is speaking for me. But I can’t take the words back.

Perry looks right at me. “What do you think we are?”

I turn to the sea and stare at it. I watch the waves until the tightness in my throat loosens and I’m breathing normally again. He’s right. We are family. I’m not terrified of what I could be losing in the future. I’m scared of losing what I already have.

Beside me, I hear the slosh of the bottle as Perry takes a drink. Minutes pass before he speaks again. When he does, he’s so quiet that I know the words aren’t really meant for me.

“You’re better than a brother,” he says.

After an hour or two or four, Liv walks up. My head feels better and the ringing in my ear is gone, but my eyes don’t seem to be working because I can’t bring myself to look at her directly.

Perry climbs to his feet. “In case you’re really wondering,” he says to me, “it is going to rain tomorrow.” He taps his nose like Liv did last night. “If you ever want to know, just ask.”

He looks at Liv, watching her for a long moment. “See you at home?”

Liv nods. “See you at home.”

Perry heads south along the beach, which isn’t the way home. I wonder if he’ll spend the night on his own, thinking of all the ways he could’ve fought back against Vale. No, I don’t wonder. I’m sure that’s what he’ll do.

Liv sits next to me and takes the bottle. “You couldn’t even save a drop for me?” she says when she realizes it’s empty.

“I didn’t know if you were coming back.”

Her head whips over to me. “What?”

“I thought you were so eager to meet your future husband that you’d already left.”

“Stop, Roar.”

I don’t. “Why even waste your time with Luster? Sable is rich. He’ll give you the best. The finest wines.”

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. She’s hurting. Why am I trying to hurt her more? I make myself shut up and press my finger against the cut on my thumb until it stings. It’s such a small amount of pain. So bearable.

“This isn’t what I want, Roar,” she says. “You know that.”

Do I? I always assumed my future would be with her. I thought she wanted the same thing, but now I realize I’m not sure. I don’t know what she wants. We’ve never talked about it before. We’ve never needed to.

I look at her. “What do you want?”

Her back stiffens. “How can you ask me that?”

“Easy. I’ll do it again. What do you want, Olivia?” My voice is sharp, more demanding than I intend.

Liv springs to her feet. “I want to make my own choices! I want my life to be mine again! I want my brother to care about what I want. I want out of this situation!”

I’m up in an instant, pulling her against me. “I’m sorry, Liv. I’m sorry.” I kiss her forehead, her cheek, and her nose, and then her forehead again. There’s pressure in my lungs. She didn’t answer my question the way I wanted her to, but I’m powerless against her pain. “It’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right.”

I run my hands over her back, smoothing away the tension. Slowly she relaxes. Slowly she turns her head and rests it on my shoulder. Then I feel her fingers loop into my belt at my lower back, where she likes to hang her hands when I hold her, and I know we’re fine. I know we’re good again. The waves crash and we stand there. Her weight easing against me. Mine easing against her.

It’s a long while before she speaks.

“I’m scared, Roar,” she says. “I hate being scared.”

“Hey.” I tip her chin up so I can look into her eyes. “It’s going to be all right.”

“How could I ever leave you?” she says.

I swallow and shake my head. I can’t hear those words. “You won’t have to. We’ll figure it out, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

As I speak, Liv slides her hands under the hem of my shirt, pressing her fingers into my back. Her lips brush my jaw, gentle but insistent, and it’s impossible for me to talk anymore. I pull her against me, not so gentle. More insistent.

We end up on the sand trying to forget the past hours with kisses and whispered words. It doesn’t work. People say only Scires can render, but it’s not true. I feel her sadness and her fear. Whatever Liv feels, I feel.

I hold her and watch her drift asleep in my arms. I watch her for a long time afterward.

Then I force my eyes closed, and still her face is there.

This girl. She’s all I see.

5

The sound of giggling pulls me from a dream—nightmare?—of Liv in the middle of the clearing, wearing a long white dress.

“They’re waking up, Uncle Perry.”

I peer up and see Perry standing above me. “About time,” he says.

Liv is pressed to my side, her head resting in the hollow of my shoulder. My arm is around her, but it’s completely numb. I doubt we moved an inch the entire night.

Talon has a metal pail and a shovel and he’s busy burying Liv’s legs in the sand. Judging by the weight I feel over mine, he’s already gotten to me.

Liv stirs. She peels away from me and sits up. “What happened to me? My legs are gone!” she shrieks. She wiggles her toes and acts surprised when they pop out of the sand. “Who did this?”

Talon and Perry point at each other at the same time.

“How dare you!” Liv says, glaring at Talon. She jumps up and dashes after him, yelling over her shoulder, “I’ve got the little one!”

I lay my head back and stare up at the Aether, listening to Talon’s happy shrieks. Since he got sick, everyone makes an extra effort to get laughs out of him.

“You’re not going to chase me?” Perry says.

I shake my head. “No. No, I’m not.” The cut on my thumb stings and my neck is stiff. I’m not sure if it’s from two nights of sleeping on the beach or the punch I took from Vale. Probably both. “How do I look?”

“The part of you that I can see? Like death.”

“That sounds about right.” I sit up, stretching my arms to get my blood moving again.

“I talked to my brother,” Perry says.

I freeze. My brother. Perry only calls Vale that when something is wrong. This won’t be good. I unearth my legs and force myself to stand. Strangely, now that the weight of sand is gone, I miss it. “What did your brother say?”

Liv is far—out of hearing range for her—but she looks at us. She tells Talon to get a fishing line in the water and that Perry will join him soon.

“He’s not going to change his mind,” Perry says, when she comes over. “He said that he has to make this decision as Blood Lord. That it’s not an easy one, but he has no choice.” Perry crosses his arms and stares at Liv for a few moments. “He, uh . . . he wants you to leave tomorrow, Liv.”

Suddenly I can’t get enough air into my lungs. One day. I have one day left with her? Liv has gone pale beside me.

“Is that it?” I hear myself say.

Perry shakes his head. “He agreed to let you and me take her to the Horns. It’s a two-week journey. . . . I know it’s not much, but even that took some convincing.” Perry rubs the back of his neck and gives me a strange smile. “He also wanted me to tell you, specifically, that you’re a deceitful bastard and that he’ll have you hunted and killed if you interfere with his orders.”

Perry’s eyes flick to Talon, who’s calling for him by the water. “I’m going to go,” he says. “But you should both know that I don’t want to hear a word about what you’re thinking or planning, if you’re doing either of those.” He leaves before we can respond.

The message is clear. Vale has set the rules. Whatever Liv and I do from now on will be in defiance of his orders. If Perry learns we’re planning something, he won’t be able to lie about it to Vale. He’d be punished for helping us. Again.

Liv looks at me. We need to talk, but I realize we can’t do it here. I’m not the only Aud in the tribe, and if Vale is really concerned about us defying him, then he’s most likely having us watched. Our plans will have to be made far away from the compound.

I can tell Liv is thinking the same thing. Not now. Not here. But there is something I can say.

“I think you should be my friend,” I tell her. “All right?”

She smiles, and I know she’s remembering. “All right.”

In light of the fact that I can’t stop daydreaming of all the ways I’d like to slit Vale’s throat—and that he can scent my intentions through my temper—I decide it’s best to spend the day away from the compound.

Perry and I head to the southern woods to hunt as Liv stays behind to say her good-byes and pack. It’s nothing I want to see her do, anyway. It shouldn’t be happening. She shouldn’t be leaving, but that part can’t be changed. My focus now is to get her away from Vale’s control . . . and then?

I don’t know.

We could rush into a marriage, but Vale, Blood Lord of the Tides, is known all over this region. People in the neighboring tribes would suspect his sister’s hasty wedding, especially if it’s carried out away from Tide land. Most likely, Liv and I would be tied up and hauled right back to Vale. To marry, we’d need to go far, weeks away, where no one would recognize either one of us.

I’ve done my share of immoral things, but stealing a girl from her guardian and claiming her as mine is a lot to take in. Running off feels too close to what I saw my mother do plenty of times when I was younger. I never wanted to do the same. Where Liv is concerned I’ve tried to do things the right way. There’s no possibility of that anymore.

The more I think about running off and marrying her, the more my head starts to spin. I’ve never seen a decent example of a husband. What I’ve seen are men who shine like silver at first, then tarnish and eventually disappear. Is marriage something that has to be taught, or can you learn it by ear?

I wonder if Liv is thinking about the same things. She never had a mother—does that make her want to avoid marriage? Does she even want to be a wife? We’re both nineteen—old enough—but we’ve never once talked about getting married. I realize I’ve been thinking the words marriage and wife so much that they’re starting to sound strange in my head.

On the game trail up ahead of me, Perry slows. It’s drizzling—just like he told me it would last night. I watch as he sets up and takes aim at a deer, drawing the bowstring back to his jaw and holding it. He looses it, and the arrow sails wide. The deer startles and springs away.

“That was terrible,” I say. I can count the number of times I’ve seen him miss a shot like that on one finger. It just proves that nothing feels normal anymore. “You missed by almost a foot.”

Perry turns to me. “Whose fault do you think that is?”

If the tone of his voice wasn’t enough of a clue, the grim set of his mouth is. “Mine?”

He shakes his head. “Your nerves are getting on my nerves,” he says, before he leaves to retrieve his arrow.

I mutter an apology as I watch him go. I know just how to calm myself down. As we pick up the deer’s scent trail again, I go back to daydreaming about drawing my blade across Vale’s throat.

6

That night, Vale has a lamb slaughtered for supper. Because it’s Vale, I question this decision, wondering if he intended it to carry deeper significance.

While he has kindly granted me permission to escort the girl I love to her forced marriage, Vale makes sure I’m excluded from the high table in the cookhouse. I take my meal to a table by the door while Liv and her family feast together at the opposite end of the hall.

Liv sits with Talon and Mila, smiling as she talks to them. I can tell she’s keeping up a cheerful front for their sake. Around me as well, people pretend to be cheerful, chattering about Liv’s marriage. It’ll be great for the Tides, they say. An alliance to one of the most powerful Blood Lords alive and more food to get us through the winter. Everyone is happy. Everyone is cheerful, cheerful, cheerful.

“You know what’s unfair?” Brooke says beside me.

I push my plate away and stare at the mug next to it. Even Luster has no appeal tonight. “Life?”

Though there are hundreds of people between us, I feel Vale’s attention on me and look up. He’s enjoying my misery. Nearby Perry rips into a haunch with his teeth while Wylan, the fool, talks his ear off. It’s unwise to come between Perry and food.

“This.” Brooke yanks up her sleeve, showing me the jagged Seer marking around her bicep. “Just because we aren’t Scires, we don’t even get a chance?”

She’s talking about what’s happening to Liv, I know, but she’s thinking about Perry.

“We don’t choose the Sense we’re born with,” Brooke continues. “I didn’t decide to be a Seer any more than you decided to be an Aud.” She grabs my wrist, startling me. Her hissing continues in my mind.

Vale didn’t marry a Scire. It’s like he makes the rules only for the rest of us. And what’s the point of keeping the Scire line strong, anyway? Why is smelling everything all the time so damn wonderful?

I said these very words to Perry just yesterday, but I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m tired of problems. And I won’t give Vale the satisfaction of seeing me suffer.

I lean into Brooke’s shoulder and sniff. “You smell pretty good.”

Brooke yanks her hand away from mine and shrugs me off. “Tell that to your best friend.”

“Sure,” I say. “I’ll tell him.” I won’t. It wouldn’t make any difference, and he knows how she smells better than I do anyway.

Brooke looks at me, her blue eyes piercing and clear as glass. “It’s a shame you’re not a Seer, Roar. Everything would be so much easier if we liked each other.”

“I do like you.”

“Yeah.” She sighs and turns her attention back to Perry. “I meant more than like.”

I know what she meant, but Brooke and I are never, in this eternity, going to be more than friends. If that’s even what we are now. I tip my head to the side—it works for Perry—and take a slow look at her curves. “I could more than like you.”

The stress must be getting to me because I’m messing with Brooke. She has a dark streak that I’m not equipped to handle like Perry, who scents her moods a mile away. I continue despite myself.

“If you’re looking for something that’s purely physical, I’m definitely interested. We’d have to get Perry’s and Liv’s approv—hey!” I fold over my ribs, where she elbowed me.

“You were dropped on your head, Roar! A hundred times! It’s the only possible explanation.” She jabs me in the ribs again. “And try eating some food once in a while. You’re nothing but bones.”

Her last comment is begging for an off-color remark but I refrain. Clearly she’s miserable. I have no other choice. It’s time to do something that goes against my nature. “Listen, Brooke. I’m going to be honest with you—”

“Why start now?” she snaps.

“That stings. Do you feel better about yourself?”

She rolls her eyes, but suddenly her lower lip is quivering. My thighs tighten up as I fight the urge to sprint for the door. All I wanted was to blend into this sea of cheerfulness. Just for an hour. Just for ten minutes.

“Brooke, I was only teasing.” I nod toward Perry. “All I was trying to say is that he’s not like the rest of us. He’s missing something that doesn’t let him . . . that isn’t . . . that makes him . . .”

I stop myself and reconsider. What I’m trying to say is that Perry’s missing something critical. Maybe it’s the ability to trust deeply. I don’t know. But the way I see it, when you’ve been hurt by someone you love like he has, why would you ever seek love out? Why would you ever risk being hurt again? It wouldn’t surprise me if he never has anything like Liv and I do.

That’s all far more than I want to tell Brooke right now—or actually ever—and I’m starting to depress myself, so I just say, “I think you should move on.”

Brooke’s mouth pulls into a sarcastic smile. It’s easy to forget that she’s pretty when she smiles that way. “Is that what you’re going to do? Move on from Liv?”

Never. I take a sip of Luster and suck the sweet liquid from my lips, giving myself a moment before I answer. “Yes.”

Brooke rolls her eyes. “You’re such a liar, Roar. Your temper smells like turnips. Or whatever it is lies smell like.”

That makes me laugh. “No. My lies smell like honeysuckle.”

Her eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Honeysuckle?”

I shrug, not bothering to explain that the word amuses me. Honey and suckle don’t seem like they should go together.

The noise of the cookhouse rises up around us as we fall silent. I know this is hard for her. She’s losing her best friend and seeing the truth of what she means to Perry—which is not enough. My gaze moves back to the high table. Liv is still talking to Talon. Perry is still eating. I understand exactly what Brooke is feeling.

The world wouldn’t be the same without them.

7

We leave the following morning in the darkness, early, before the fishermen have even stirred. Mila and Talon sleep soundly, mother and child curled together. I watch from the bedroom door as Liv bends and kisses them both, hearing the sound of her breath catch. Then Perry curse under his breath behind me. Then our footsteps as we walk out of the house.

Only Vale rises to see us off. At least that’s what I think until I notice the two figures waiting at the edge of the compound.

When I hear the pause in Perry’s stride, I know he’s seen them too.

Vale glances at him. “When I said you and Roar could escort her, you didn’t think I was only sending the two of you . . . did you?”

That’s exactly what Perry thought, you bastard. It’s what Liv and I thought too. I bite the inside of my lip, barely keeping the words back. Beside me, Liv’s eyes are distant, like she isn’t even listening to Vale.

“I need to be sure she gets there,” Vale continues, not waiting for Perry’s answer.

It’s a bald insult. He has given this task to someone else to ensure it’s carried out properly. Vale might as well have just told Perry: You are incapable.

“We’d be better off without them,” Perry says. “If it’s just the three of us, we could move faster. We’d leave lighter tracks and draw less attention.”

Vale’s smile is mild, patronizing. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

Perry hoists his satchel higher on his shoulder and nods tightly. “I understand.”

One day they’ll face off fairly, no chain or oath to protect Vale. One day soon. I hope I’m there to see it.

As we draw closer to the waiting figures, I recognize them as Wylan and Collins—an Aud and a Seer. Having them with us will complicate my own plans . . . plans I still need to create. Make Liv mine is the objective. What I haven’t figured out yet is how.

Run away with her? Marry her? I need to talk to Liv and find out what she wants. The real goal, the one that’s always guided me, is to make her happy.

Collins and Wylan are half asleep and clearly irritated with this assignment. After a brief exchange with Vale, they head off, taking the vanguard, leaving me to walk with the three siblings.

The hour before dawn is the quietest part of the day. There’s no wind to rustle the grass or birdsong filling the air yet. I hear only the faint rumble of the ocean surf half a mile away. With every step I take, anxiety tugs at me, until I can’t fight it any longer and I have to glance back.

The compound looks more appealing than it ever has, now that I’m leaving. Soft light of the Aether outlines the cluster of cottages, and though it’s not an old settlement, it looks sturdy and wise. As much thinking as I’ve done over the past days, it hasn’t occurred to me that I might not come back here. And though I’m a gypsy at heart—my mother always said home is where you rest your head to sleep—I can’t deny that this place means something to me. It brought me Perry and Liv and Talon. Even Brooke.

I miss it already.

I look at Liv, aching for her. If this is how I feel, what about her?

As we approach the tree line, where the trail plunges into woodland, Vale stops and so we do as well, wordlessly, obediently, forming a little group on the road. This small action cuts through my melancholy mood, annoying me more than it should; he has trained us to be like dogs.

“Don’t be late, Olivia,” he says unceremoniously. “Or there will be consequences.”

“What the hell does that mean?” The words fly out of my mouth.

Liv speaks at the same time I do. “Consequences? How do you plan to enforce them from here, Vale?”

Ignoring me, Vale squares himself to her. “I won’t enforce them, but your new husband will.”

It takes me a moment to understand what he means. When I do, my heart clenches up like a fist inside my chest. This conversation is barreling toward my worst nightmare.

“I am going north,” Liv replies, her voice as cold as winter. “I am doing this for the Tides. I will endure the term wife, but if Sable expects me to cower in a corner and submit to orders, he will be very disappointed. I am no one’s servant, and no matter how wrong my actions, no one will ever, ever punish me.”

I listen to her say this and wonder why the pull I feel to protect her is so strong. She doesn’t need me. Liv is a force. She is fierce.

Vale shakes his head. “Calm down, Olivia. No one is punishing you. The consequences are penalties on the dowry payment. We are the ones who will suffer if you’re late arriving, as Sable will garnish the cache of food he’s agreed to pay for you. And he is well aware of who you are and how you’re to be treated. You’re my sister, Liv, and whether you choose to believe it or not, I do love you. I would never want to see you hurt.”

Vale’s declaration is surprisingly earnest, but Liv won’t have it. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t force me into this.”

“I refuse to have this conversation with you again.”

As they continue to argue, my gaze drops to the knife at Vale’s waist. I could carve him into twenty pieces before he even drew his weapon. I could end this right now—for Liv and for Perry.

Vale trails off. He turns to me. “It seems I was right to bring it.”

He’s read my temper and sensed the darkness of my thoughts. There’s no point hiding anything now. The words I’ve been holding back tumble out.

“How can you do this to her? Feeding the tribe is your responsibility—your problem to fix. Why should Liv suffer because you failed to do your duty?”

Both Liv and Perry look at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. This definitely isn’t the plan, and no one, except Liv, speaks to Vale this way.

Vale stares at me, unblinking. I stand, ready, waiting for him to make the first move. To reach for his knife. To lunge at me.

He does none of these things. “Let me see if I have this right,” he says. “You want to discuss responsibility and duty with me?” A smile spreads over his face, real and true, like I’ve given him a gift.

“What have you ever done besides follow my brother and sister around?” he says. “What purpose do you serve, beyond being a siphon for bottle after bottle of Luster? You act as though you’re devoted to them, but you’re not. You’re devoted to yourself. You are arrogant, vain, and shallow—and that’s on your best days. You’re nothing but a pathetic source of amusement. You are a toy, Roar. And the time for playing with toys has passed.”

Something ignites in me. A feeling that locks me in time so there is no breath circling through my lungs. No heart beating in my chest.

I grab for my knife, knowing the precise angle and force I will use to stab Vale and sever his spleen in half, ensuring that his death will be festering and painful. My fingers scrape against the leather sheath at my belt, grasping, searching for the grip of my knife, and finding nothing.

Confusion slams into me. A feeling like I’ve misplaced part of my own flesh. Then the flash of steel draws my eye and I see my blade in Perry’s hand.

“What are you doing?” I yell, but my voice sounds miles away.

Perry slips my knife through his belt and lifts his hands. “It won’t solve anything, Roar.” There’s a flicker of guilt in his eyes, but he’s braced for my attack, ready to fight me.

I can’t think. Can’t make sense of what he’s done. He says it won’t solve anything, but it will. Vale is the cause of all our problems—not me. Vale needs to die.

Liv takes hold of my arm. “Let’s go, Roar. Come on. It’s time to go.” Her green eyes are furious.

I jerk out of her grip, looking from her to Perry. “I can’t believe this.” How can they act as though I’ve done something wrong?

“And here we are once more,” Vale says, making no effort to hide his amusement. “You do realize that one day they’ll grow tired of saving your sorry—”

Liv spins and slams her hands into his chest. “Stop it, Vale!”

I am past the point of stopping. I shoot past her, no other thought in my mind but to destroy Vale with my bare hands. Perry grabs my arms before I manage two steps. I twist and shove but I can’t break loose. I only manage to get myself into an armlock.

“Walk away,” Perry says behind me. “Don’t make me break your arm.”

I curse him. Pull and twist until the pain in my shoulder brings tears to my eyes. Perry meant it; he’ll break my arm if I fight him.

Vale’s eyes stay locked with mine as I’m shoved down the trail. “As I was saying,” he calls out, “they’re going to grow tired of this. I know I am.”

All I see in his face is victory. He pierced the weakest part of me.

Vale has never needed a weapon to draw blood.

Yanking myself out of Perry’s hold, I veer off the trail, leaving him and Liv behind.

What Vale said is the truth.

I’m not made for greatness like Perry and Liv. I have no desire to save a tribe or to right injustices, or even to become the best warrior. I’m an expert knifeman because I have quick hands—not my doing—and because I flirted with the weapon, teasing out its secrets in the name of fun. Spinning a blade and catching it with my eyes closed was an easy way to impress Liv. Becoming lethal was just a consequence.

My ambitions aren’t grand. All I have ever wanted is to be there for the two people who mean everything to me. Maybe that’s a small goal to others, but it’s always felt like enough.

8

I give myself an hour to brood, and then I pack my thoughts away and wait by a bend on the wooded trail. Without realizing it, I’ve pulled well ahead of Liv and Perry.

I made a mess of Liv’s departure from the Tides by getting into it with Vale. It was selfish of me. She deserved better than that. She deserves better right now. When I see Perry walk up, my regrets vanish and my hands close into fists.

“Are you cured?” he asks. There’s a slight lift to his chin that tells me he’s scenting my temper.

I don’t bother answering; he knows I’m not. “Don’t ever step in like that again.”

Perry stops. “What was I supposed to do? Let you kill my brother?”

“Yes! You should’ve helped me back there. Look at what he’s done! She’s your sister. How can you protect him and not Liv?”

“He got into your head, Roar. You’re not thinking straight.”

“You’re not seeing what’s right in front of you! Vale ruins everything.” He’s even ruining my friendships, I realize. Perry and I don’t fight like this. In a dozen years, we’ve barely ever argued. “What makes you think he won’t come after you next?”

Perry stills. “Careful, Roar.”

Liv comes around a thicket. She looks from me to Perry. “Well done, you two. This is just what we need,” she says as she walks past.

That night as we’re gathered around the campfire, Wylan complains about his tired feet and his tired eyes. A steady stream of nonsense continues to pour from his mouth as we eat and then watch the fire burn low.

“It should take us around two weeks to get to the Horns,” he says. He tips his chin, gesturing to Liv, who’s fallen asleep with her head resting on my lap. “Guess your days of doing that are numbered.”

“I guess they are,” I say. I’ve been running my fingers through her hair, watching the way the firelight turns it to gold and copper and bronze. Though she might not feel it anymore, I can’t bring myself to stop. She’s been angry with me all afternoon. Perry has been too. We haven’t spoken since our argument.

“Never thought I’d see you and her split up,” Wylan continues.

I take my bottom lip between my teeth and look up, holding back my first reply. “Neither did I.” Through a web of tree branches, I see the Aether running in flowing sheets. We don’t have to worry about storms since it’s spring, but tomorrow we’ll be exposed to another danger when we leave Tide land. Outside the tribe territories, every day is a fight for survival. The borderlands test even the strongest.

Wylan turns his attention to Perry, who’s sitting across the fire staring into the flames. “What about you?”

“What about me, Wylan?” Perry answers without looking up.

“Scires are in demand, though I have no idea why. You think Vale’s gonna sell you off like your sister?”

“I don’t know what Vale’s plans are,” Perry says, lifting his eyes.

I know he’s thinking the same thing I am: Wylan is like a skunk. Always foul-smelling, occasionally intolerably so. Tonight, apparently, we’re getting sprayed.

Wylan props his elbows on his knees and scratches the black bristle on his chin. “Well, you can’t stay with the Tides much longer, the way the two of you have been locking horns. You’re gonna have to find a match somewhere else, or disperse and spend the rest of your life in the borderlands—which wouldn’t be long.”

Perry crosses his arms. “You’ve given this some thought.”

Anger creeps into his voice, and I can’t blame him. There’s no easy answer to his situation. There can only be one leader. Eventually Perry will have to leave the tribe or challenge Vale for the right to be Blood Lord. When you’re facing your own brother, kill or be killed is a winless situation. He should have just let me off Vale for him earlier.

“I have,” Wylan says. “And so should you.”

I can’t stand this anymore. Not Wylan’s drivel, or being at odds with Perry. Liv shifts her head on my lap, turning slightly. She peers through her lashes and smiles at me, sleepy and perfect. Not wanting to wake her, I wait until she drifts off again before I speak.

“I’ve got a solution for you, Per.”

He looks at me, his eyebrows drawing together in surprise. I’ve broken our war of silence. “All right,” he says. “Let’s hear it.”

“It seems to me there’s a dearth of Scires,” I say. “Seeing as how you’re only about a tenth of all Marked.”

Perry nods. “Probably even less. There aren’t many of us.”

“Right. Which is why I was thinking you should propose to Vale that he loan you to other tribes as a breeding stud. He could make some money from your services and it would keep the two of you apart for long stretches of time. And I think the benefits, to you, are obvious.”

Perry looks back at the campfire. He rubs a hand over his mouth and nods like he’s pretending to mull it over, but I can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “That’s not a bad idea,” he says after a moment.

“I know,” I agree. It actually isn’t a poor plan. Perry’s never settling down and girls fawn over him anyway. Liv once told me that part of why they’re drawn to him is because he comes across as a mystery. We didn’t get any farther than that; I’d rather keep my best friend’s appeal a mystery to me too.

“If you’re open to that kind of . . . work,” I continue, “Vale could turn a nice profit.”

“Sure,” Perry says. “I could warm up to that kind of work.”

“Rise to the occasion?”

“Definitely.” A wide grin spreads over Perry’s face. “No problem.”

His question from earlier pops into my mind. Are you cured? I think we’re both on our way.

“You’re uniquely suited for the job,” I say. “A month here, a month there. You could really boost the population. In a couple of years there could be little Scires scurrying around all over the place. Or maybe not so little, since they’d be yours.”

Perry shrugs. “I don’t see any downside. Thanks, Ro. I’ll talk to Vale when we get back.” He turns to Wylan, whose black eyes are narrowed in suspicion. “Guess we figured it all out.”

Wylan looks from Perry to me and makes a sound of disgust. He flops to the ground and pulls his blanket over his head. “You’re both idiots,” he mutters.

Hardly. We got him to shut up, which is damn near impossible to do.

That makes us brilliant.

9

The next morning, after a quick meal of hard cheese and harder bread, we break camp and set off. As we fall into a comfortable formation—Collins and Wylan at the lead; Liv, Perry, and me at the rear—I mull over my plan for coming up with a plan.

I need to speak privately with Liv. If there is one thing that’s always been clear to me, it’s that my happiness is linked with hers. Only when I know exactly what she wants will I be able to coordinate our next move. As we head toward the Tides border, I vow to get her away from Wylan’s eavesdropping ears and Collins’s skitty eyes. Away, even, from Perry.

My gaze moves to him, walking a few paces ahead. As I watch, he tosses a few blackberries he found earlier into his mouth.

“Want some, Liv?” he says without looking back.

“No,” she answers. “Thanks,” she adds as an afterthought.

The tension between the three of us has faded, but Liv is still quiet. She’s allowed to be quiet.

“I want some,” I say, to chase away the silence a little longer.

Perry turns and waves a hand, indicating everywhere. “Then start looking,” he says, but he flips a few to me.

I chew the ripe fruit, thinking about the past days. Perry has defended me from Vale, and then Vale from me. And he has comforted Liv. His actions have shown he supports us, but now it occurs to me how little he’s actually said in support of us. Then it occurs to me that I haven’t heard him say anything. I have no idea what he actually thinks of Liv’s betrothal to Sable.

A cold feeling rolls down my spine. Is it possible that he actually agrees with Vale?

Thoughts fire off in my brain, one after another. Maybe he’s behind the arranged marriage because he doesn’t understand what love means—what Liv and I have. The closest he’s been to a girl is Brooke—which isn’t close at all. But even if he did understand, he wouldn’t make the same choices. Perry is selfless. For the Tides, he would sacrifice himself and love and anything else that got in the way.

Then it hits me. Could he actually be working against me and Liv? Did he come on this journey to keep track of us? To make sure we don’t run? He would never betray us for Vale; his allegiance to his older brother is a rotted thing, ready to crumble. But didn’t I just admit to myself he’d do anything for the Tides?

Sweat trickles down my back as I think of the thousands of times we’ve competed against each other in this thing or that—in everything. Our competitions were never earnest. Never malicious. Even when we argued last night, I never viewed him as a true adversary. What if he becomes one?

What if he tries to stop me from being with Liv?

Liv looks over at me then, her expression questioning and a little confused. I know I’m making a face. “Tart,” I say. “The berries were.” I wink at her and look away, focusing on the sound of our footsteps.

By some twist of fate, our pace is synchronized. Three pairs of feet land in near perfect rhythm. I concentrate on that—on the small miracle happening in this moment—but a rebel chant begins in my head and it’s loud. Too loud to ignore.

If I have to lose everything to keep her, I will.

I will.

I will.

I will.

Stealing some time to talk with Liv turns out to be simple. That night, as I’m circling our camp on night watch while the others sleep, she finds me.

I’ve been with her all day. All week. For months and years. But my heartbeat picks up at the sight of her approaching slowly, a tall liquid shadow moving through the black trees. She stops a few feet away, her eyes shining in the darkness. I notice that she’s wearing her weapon. We’re well into the borderlands now.

“I won’t let you give your life away,” she says. There’s pain in her voice, and I hate that this is the first thing—the first real thing—she’s said to me today.

“I don’t want to give it away either.”

“Roar, I need you to be serious right now.”

I raise my hands in surrender. “All right . . . I’m listening.”

“You heard what Perry said . . . what Vale vowed to do to you if we run. But this isn’t just about defying Vale, Roar. I’ve heard things about Sable. He’s proud and vengeful. People say he got his name because he has a black heart.”

“That’s just talk, Liv. Sable is powerful. Power doesn’t come without enemies and their scorn.”

“But what if it’s true? If we run, we wouldn’t just be going against Vale. What if Sable makes it his mission to hunt us down? To kill you? He has an army of thousands and that’s a fact. That’s not a rumor. I don’t want to be responsible for you living the rest of your life as a wanted man, and if you were ever caught . . .”

She trails off, choosing not to state the obvious. If I take her away and Sable or Vale ever catches me, it’s my life. There’s nothing for me to say so I shrug. I can’t promise that it won’t happen. It might. She’s either going to have to accept it—or not. But I won’t give her false hope.

I draw a breath, listening for sounds around me. The risk of being attacked by bands of dispersed is real out here; we can’t afford to let our guard down. I hear only the sound of leaves rustling with a breeze. The lonely call of an owl in the distance.

All I want is to be back where we were a few days ago on the beach by the cave.

Liv shifts on her feet. “Say something, Roar.”

“I love you.”

The words hang in the darkness, and now she’s the one who falls into silence. That wasn’t my intention. She should be in my arms right now. I don’t know why she isn’t.

I step toward her and find her hand. “I understand the risks, Liv.” I glance toward camp, thinking of the friend I might lose. “And I’m willing to take them. For you. For us. I choose you. Above everything else, I choose you.” Her fingers are cold, so I take them between my palms and then press my lips to them. “I’m ready,” I say, against her skin. “The question is, are you?”

She stares at me.

I wait.

And wait.

“You’re killing me, Liv. Whatever it is, just tell me. What’s in your heart?”

“You are,” she says.

She tells me again, silently.

You. It’s always been you.

I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath for a few days until now. I pull her against me and squeeze as hard as I dare without hurting her. I kiss the top of her head. “I needed to hear that,” I whisper against her hair.

“When I think about being without you,” she says, “I can barely breathe.”

The coincidence makes me smile. “Keep breathing. I’m right here.”

She leans back. The smile on her lips is there and gone. “I don’t see a way out, Roar. Every choice I have, people will end up suffering. If I don’t go to Sable, what’s going to happen to the Tides? Are they going to starve because of me? Is Mila? Is Talon?”

“No. Your brother won’t let them starve.”

“How? I’m Vale’s solution. His answer to feeding the tribe is me.”

“When I said brother, I was talking about Perry. He won’t let Talon go hungry. Neither will Vale. They’ll think of something. No one’s going to starve.”

Instead of soothing her worries, my comments only make her wince. She’d be leaving everyone behind if we ran. Talon. Perry. Vale and Mila. Even Brooke. She’d lose any chance of seeing them again if she and I defied Vale and disappeared.

I can’t ask her to make that choice.

“You know what I want,” I tell her instead. “Whatever you decide, love, I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, searching my eyes. Stepping right into my soul. “Liv or love?” she asks.

I brush her hair away from her neck and rest my hand there, feeling the beating of her pulse. “Either,” I answer. “They’re the same to me.”

10

We’re running out of time.

I meet Liv’s gaze across the small clearing in the woods, where we’ve stopped for water and a quick meal. I know she’s thinking the same thing.

We’ve traveled north day after day, completing a week, and then a few days more. We’ve climbed steadily and watched the oak trees turn into pines. The rolling hills turn into mountains that pierce the clouds. Now we sit only a few miles from Sable’s southern border. Since the territory is massive, the Horns’ city—Rim—is still a two-day journey from here. But if Liv and I are going to flee, it needs to happen soon.

It needs to happen tonight.

Perry drops his water skin into his satchel and rises from his spot on an overturned log. “Let’s keep moving. I want us on Sable’s land by nightfall.”

“We’ve gone far enough today,” Wylan says, waving a hand at the clearing. “This is as good a place to camp as any.”

“There’s no reason to spend another night on unprotected land,” Perry says. “If we move an hour north, we’ll be better off.”

He has a point. Once we cross into Horn territory, the odds of running into dispersed will drop. But just being this close to Sable’s land has me sweating and feeling skitty.

I look at Liv. I’m not the only one who’s anxious. She’s sitting against a rock, hugging her knees. She looks pale and fragile and fearful, and she is none of those things.

She must sense this, because she extends her legs and straightens her back. “Perry,” she says. “Just . . . one more night.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” His tone is softer with her. He pauses, watching Liv in silence. I wonder what he scents, what passes between them through their tempers, because he nods and says, “Fine. We’ll stay.”

Wylan lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Yesss,” he says. “My feet are—”

“We know,” Collins interrupts. “Your feet are killing all of us.”

Perry tugs his bow over his shoulder. “Wylan, you and I will take first watch.”

“I’ll be right there,” Wylan says. When Perry shoots him a glare, Wylan adds, “It’s not even dark yet.”

Perry starts to say something, catches himself, and leaves without a word.

Since Liv and Perry picked up human scents earlier, we don’t risk a fire. And we’ve already eaten, so there’s nothing to do but talk or sleep. I keep my eyes on Liv while Wylan and Collins prattle on about nothing. As daylight fades and the night cools, I try to read her thoughts, my heart racing though I’m sitting still.

Will she choose love or duty?

A life of hiding in the woods or as a purchased bride?

She has hard choices to make. I want to support her. This is her decision. But the part of me that wants to tie her up and haul her away with me is winning. I can’t stand by much longer. I won’t.

“Roar.”

Perry’s voice carries from a distance, but it’s sharp with urgency. I’m on my feet in an instant, scanning the trees, listening. I hear his feet pounding through the woods before I spot him. When I do, any doubt I have that we’re being attacked vanishes. Perry runs toward us at a full sprint.

“There are at least a dozen,” he says, when he reaches us. “The best chance we have is to outrun them.”

I shake my head. “It’s too late.” I hear footsteps. Behind us. Ahead of us. They’re faint, but they are everywhere. “There’s more than a dozen of them, and they’ve surrounded us.”

Perry curses, and I know we’re all absorbing the same fact: no matter what, we’ll have to fight our way out.

“Which way should we go?” Liv asks me. Her half-sword is drawn. She doesn’t look pale or fragile anymore. Collins pulls his bow off his shoulder. Wylan has turned white beside him.

I listen again, calibrating. Searching for the direction where I hear fewer footsteps. For the path, I hope, of least resistance. “This way.”

We grab our packs and sprint through the pine trees.

Darkness has fallen, heavy and thick around us, amplifying our breaths and our footsteps. We are loud. Any band with its share of Auds will follow us with no trouble. If they have a Scire, then they will track us by scent. Though it’s no time for these thoughts, I can’t help but recall Perry as he told Vale that we’d travel safer without Wylan and Collins adding to our numbers. He was right. If it were just me, Perry, and Liv, I know we could disappear. Perry was right again when he said we’d have been better off tonight continuing north to Sable’s territory. I don’t know why I ever question his instincts. I vow to never do it again.

Perry surges ahead, ten paces, twenty, fifty. He slows and sets up, nocking an arrow to his bow and loosing it. I follow the path of the shot and see his target. A man deep in the murky woods beyond, who flies backward and lands on the forest floor. Perry fires another arrow to the north, and another, but they come on us, steel flashing, yelling, flooding from the darkness.

A man in shredded clothes charges me, his eyes wide, feral, as they catch the dim light of the Aether. He lumbers my way, rash, thoughtless, and slashes at me with his knife. He moves as slow as a cloud. I dodge easily and strike back. My blade finds the artery at his neck and he crumples at my feet.

“Liv!” I only catch a glimpse of her blond hair before another man breaks through the trees, running at me. Swiftly I take him in, gauging his strengths as an opponent. He’s younger and more cautious than the last one, pacing as he measures me back, his feet light as they move in the practiced steps of a man comfortable with a fight. I keep my eyes on him, though I hear Liv behind me, grunting, her sword clanging. I feel my life drain away with every second that I can’t see her.

“Come on!” I yell at my attacker.

He doesn’t make his move and I won’t wait. I can’t wait anymore. I dart toward him and feel a slap on my chest as I plunge my knife into his heart.

Drawing the blade, I spin, spotting Liv just as she jams the hilt of her half-sword into a man’s face. He rocks backward, finished, but there’s another figure behind her. A man, streaking toward her with an ax. She’s blind to him. Doesn’t see him as he runs for her, the massive weapon held high.

I throw my knife.

In the instant that it flies across the night, I bargain with fate.

I’ll let her go. I’ll let Sable have her. I’ll do anything, as long as she lives.

I hit the ax man on the cheek, exactly where I aimed. He twists away and goes down. I hear two thumps: his body, his weapon. He doesn’t get back up.

Liv’s eyes lock with mine, fear flashing in them.

“Roar, go!” Perry yells from uphill. Wylan and Collins are with him. A cluster of men have gathered in the hundred yards that separate us. I count them. Nine.

We’re strong fighters, each of us, but those are still a fool’s odds—and I’ve just sworn to trust Perry’s instincts. Even if it means going against mine by leaving him to this fight.

“Perry!” Liv screams.

“Olivia, run!” he yells again.

There’s only one thing to do and Liv knows it too.

We run.

11

Liv and I sprint for a solid hour, and then we stop. She scents. I listen. And though it’s clear that we’re out of danger, we run for a half hour more.

When we finally stop for good, I bend over my knees. My shirt is heavy with sweat. My legs shake under my own weight.

“Do you think they made it?” Liv asks, out of breath. “Do you think Perry’s all right?”

He has to be, but I can’t seem to find words to tell her that.

She looks at me. “Are you all right?”

My hands are shaking, too. Almost every part of me is shaking. All I see is the man running at her with the ax.

“Roar,” she says. “Talk to me.”

Running has given me a stitch in my side. A dull ache that keeps me from uncurling my back all the way when I try to straighten up. “How could I be all right after what almost happened back there, Liv?”

She looks into the woods, and I know she’s remembering. “I didn’t see him. I didn’t know he was there.”

“Do you know how close that was? He was barely two feet away from you. What if my aim had been off? What if I’d missed?”

She shakes her head. “You never miss.”

“Olivia, that is not the point.”

“Roar . . . you’re hurt.”

“I’m not hurt! I am rage. I want to go back there so I can kill him again.”

“I meant you’re bleeding,” she says. “That kind of hurt.”

“I am?” I look down at myself. “Where?”

“I don’t know,” Liv says. “There’s blood on your face.” She steps closer and runs her hands over my cheeks, her eyes drifting over me. “I don’t see anything.”

Then I feel it—a sting on my chest—and I remember the slap I took earlier. I pull the collar of my sweaty shirt away from me, trying to see the cut.

“Here, Roar. Let me see.” Liv yanks the hem up. Over my head. Off. The cool night against my skin feels like heaven. Liv’s fingers skimming over my chest feel even better.

I suck in a breath as the sting flares. Peering down, I watch her thumb run across a nick that’s about two inches long. Right over my heart, but shallow.

“It’s nothing,” she says with relief. “Barely a scratch.”

I knew that—I hardly feel it—but I can’t resist. “So I get ‘barely a scratch’ when I’m hurt, but Perry gets a half-hour examination?”

“No,” Liv says. “You get this.” She wraps her arms around me and kisses me. It’s a long kiss, and more than a little desperate. We’re both still scared, but my hands grow surer on her body. It’s not long before we’re both breathing fast again.

“Liv,” I say. “I wanted you to be able to choose on your own. I didn’t want to force you. I haven’t asked because I never want to put pressure on you—”

“Shhh . . .” she says. “I know, Roar.”

I rest my forehead against hers. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Her gaze drops to my mouth, and I feel her breath when she whispers, “I love you, Roar. I always will.”

We find a place to burrow together in the shelter of a pine tree, hidden beneath branches that look timeless. Our nerves are still with us, but there’s something more now. A pull that’s always been between us. That’s only gotten stronger with every day that I’ve known her. I hold her and tell her about all the days we’re leaving behind us, calling up stories, all the memories that are ours, until her laughter fades to the quiet rhythm of her breath as she sleeps.

Then I kiss the top of her head, feeling steady. Feeling full.

The past is behind us now. Tomorrow, we start our future.

I know she’s gone before I open my eyes. I know because I’m calling for her as I wake and look around me. Her satchel is gone, her sword and sheath, but I still feel the weight of her head against my chest and the warmth she left behind.

I call for her, yelling, though I know it won’t matter. Liv made her choice. She didn’t pick me or Sable or the Tides. She chose time. I don’t know how I’m sure, but I am. Liv always runs when she needs to think.

I call her name anyway, yelling to the trees and to the Aether. I don’t stop until I lose my voice and no sound comes out of me anymore. Then I pick up my satchel and pull it over my shoulder.

I’ll give her time, but I won’t give up. Ever.

Copyright

Copyright © 2012 by Veronica Rossi

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

EPub Edition © 2012

ISBN 978-0-06-223955-6

EPub Edition © SEPTEMBER 2012 ISBN: 9780062239556

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

FIRST EDITION

DEDICATION

For Elisabeth and Flavio

CONTENTS

Dedication

1 Peregrine

2 Aria

3 Peregrine

4 Aria

5 Peregrine

6 Aria

7 Peregrine

8 Aria

9 Peregrine

10 Aria

11 Peregrine

12 Aria

13 Peregrine

14 Aria

15 Peregrine

16 Aria

17 Peregrine

18 Aria

19 Peregrine

20 Aria

21 Peregrine

22 Aria

23 Peregrine

24 Aria

25 Peregrine

26 Aria

27 Peregrine

28 Aria

29 Peregrine

30 Aria

31 Peregrine

32 Aria

33 Peregrine

34 Aria

35 Peregrine

36 Aria

37 Peregrine

38 Aria

39 Peregrine

40 Aria

41 Peregrine

42 Aria

43 Peregrine

Acknowledgments

Credits

Copyright

1

PEREGRINE

Aria was here.

Perry followed her scent, moving swiftly through the night. He kept his stride even as he scanned the darkened woods, though his heart hammered in his chest. Roar had told him she was back on the outside, had even delivered a violet with a message as proof, but Perry wouldn’t believe it until he saw her.

He reached a rise of boulders and dropped his bow, quiver, and satchel. Then he jumped up, leaping from rock to rock until he stood at the top. The sky was coated with a thick layer of clouds that glowed softly with Aether light. He scanned the rolling hills, his gaze stopping at a barren stretch of land. Scorched, silver in color, it was a scar left by the winter’s storms. Much of his territory, two days to the west, looked the same.

Perry tensed as he spotted the tail of a campfire in the distance. He inhaled and caught the smoky scent on a cool gust. That had to be her. She was close.

“Anything?” Reef called up. He stood some twenty feet below. Sweat glistened on his deep brown skin, running along the scar that reached from the base of his nose to above his ear, dividing his cheek, and he was breathing heavily. Just a few months ago they’d been strangers. Now Reef was the head of his guard, seldom leaving his side.

Perry climbed down, landing with a soggy crunch on a patch of melting snow. “She’s due east. A mile. Maybe less.”

Reef drew a sleeve across his face, pushing his braids away and wiping off sweat. Usually he kept up without any effort, but two days at a driving pace had brought out the decade between them. “You said she could help us find the Still Blue.”

“She will help,” Perry said. “I told you. She needs to find it, just as we do.”

Reef strode up, coming to within a foot of Perry, and narrowed his eyes. “You did tell me that.” He tipped his head and inhaled, the gesture bold and animal. He didn’t downplay his Sense like Perry did. “But that’s not why we’ve come after her,” he said.

Perry couldn’t read his own tempers, but he could imagine the scents Reef had taken in. Eagerness, green and sharp and alive. Desire, thick and musky. Impossible to miss. Reef was a Scire too. He knew exactly what Perry felt right now, moments away from seeing Aria. Scents never lied.

“It’s one reason,” Perry said tightly. He picked up his things, shouldering them with an impatient tug. “Camp here with the others. I’ll be back by sunup.” He turned to go.

“Sunup, Perry? You think the Tides want to lose another Blood Lord?”

Perry froze and then faced him again. “I’ve been out here a hundred times on my own.”

Reef nodded. “Sure. As a hunter.” He took a water skin from his leather satchel, his movements casual and slow though he was still out of breath. “You’re more than that now.”

Perry stared into the woods. Twig and Gren were out there, listening and watching for danger. They’d been protecting him since he left his territory. Reef was right. Here in the borderlands, survival was the only rule. Without his guard, his life would be at risk. Perry let out a slow breath, his hope of spending a night alone with Aria vanishing.

Reef stoppered the cork on his water skin with a firm thump. “Well? What does my lord command?”

Perry shook his head at the formal address—Reef’s way of reminding him of his responsibility. Like he could forget. “Your lord will take one hour alone,” he said, and jogged away.

“Peregrine, hold on. You need to—”

“One hour,” Perry called over his shoulder. Whatever Reef wanted, it could wait.

When he was sure he’d left Reef behind, Perry firmed his grip on his bow and broke into a run. Scents flashed past as he threaded through the trees. The rich, promising smell of wet earth. The smoke from Aria’s campfire. And her scent. Violets, sweet and rare.

Perry relished the burn in his legs and the crisp air flowing through his lungs. Winter was a time for holding in place as the Aether storms wreaked havoc, and he hadn’t been in the open like this for too long—not since he’d taken Aria to the Dweller Pod in search of her mother. He’d been telling himself she was back where she belonged, with her people, and he had his own tribe to take care of. Then, just days ago, Roar had showed up at the compound with Cinder and told him she was here on the outside. From that moment he could only think of being with her again.

Perry tore down a slope soft with new grass and recent rain, panning the woods. It was darker beneath the trees, the Aether light filtering softly through the canopy, but every branch and leaf stood in sharp contrast, thanks to his Night-Sighted eyes. With each step, the scent of Aria’s campfire grew stronger. In a flash he remembered her game of sneaking up, silent as a shadow, and planting a kiss on his cheek. He couldn’t keep the smile from coming to his lips.

Up ahead he spotted movement—a blur through the trees. Aria ran into view. Sleek. Silent. Intent as she searched the area. When she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise, but her stride didn’t slow and neither did his. He shed his things, dropping them where they fell, and sprinted. Next thing he knew, she slammed into his chest, solid and fragrant in his arms.

Perry held her against him. “I missed you,” he whispered in her ear. He couldn’t hold her close enough. “I should never have let you go. I missed you so much.”

Words tumbled out of him. He said a dozen things he hadn’t meant to say, until she drew back and smiled up at him. Then he couldn’t speak at all. He took in the arch of her slender eyebrows, black like her hair, and the cleverness in her gray eyes. Fair and finely made, she was beautiful. Even more than he remembered.

“You’re here,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

“I left as soon as—”

Before he could finish, her arms closed around his neck and they were kissing—a clumsy, hasty kiss. They were both breathing too hard. Smiling too much. Perry wanted to slow down and savor everything, but he couldn’t find a scrap of patience. He wasn’t sure if he started laughing first or if she did.

“I can do much better than that,” he said, just as she said, “You’re taller. I swear you’ve grown.”

“Taller?” he said. “I hope not.”

“You are,” she said. She studied his face like she wanted to know everything about him. She nearly already did. During their time together, he’d told her things he’d never said to anyone. Aria’s smile faded as her gaze stopped at the chain around his neck. “I heard what happened.” She reached up, and the weight at his collarbone lifted. “You’re a Blood Lord now.” She spoke softly, more to herself than to him. “This is … It’s stunning.”

He peered down, watching her fingers run over the silver links. “It’s heavy,” he said. This was the best moment he’d had since he’d taken the chain months ago.

Aria met his eyes, her temper cooling. “I’m sorry about Vale.”

Perry looked across the shadowed woods and swallowed through the sudden tightness in his throat. The memory of his brother’s death kept him awake nights. Sometimes, when he was alone, it kept him from breathing. Gently he took Aria’s hand from the chain and slipped his fingers through hers.

“Later,” he said. They had months of catching up to do. He wanted to talk to her about her mother. Had wanted to comfort her since he’d heard the news from Roar. But not now, when he’d just gotten her back. “Later … all right?”

She nodded, her eyes warm with understanding. “Later.” She turned his hand to see the scars Cinder had given him. Pale and thick as trails of wax, they made a web from his knuckles to his wrist. “Does this still bother you?” she asked, tracing the scars with her fingers.

“No. It reminds me of you … of when you bandaged it.” He lowered his head, bringing his cheek next to hers. “That was the first time you touched me without hating it.” This close, her scent was everywhere, running through him, somehow stirring and mellowing him at the same time.

“Did Roar tell you where I’m going?” she asked.

“He did.” Perry straightened and looked up. He couldn’t see the currents of Aether, but he knew they were there, flowing above the clouds. Each winter, the Aether storms were growing stronger, bringing fire and ruin. Perry knew they would only get worse. His tribe’s survival depended on finding a land rumored to be free of the Aether—the same thing Aria was searching for. “He told me you’re looking for the Still Blue.”

“You saw Bliss.”

He nodded. They had gone to the Pod together in search of her mother and found it destroyed by Aether. Domes the size of hills had collapsed. Walls ten feet thick had been crushed like eggshells.

“It’s only a matter of time before that happens to Reverie,” she continued. “The Still Blue is our only chance. Everything I’ve heard points to the Horns. To Sable.”

Perry’s pulse quickened at the mention of the name. His sister, Liv, should have married the Horns’ Blood Lord last spring, but she’d spooked and run away. Liv still hadn’t appeared. He’d have to deal with Sable soon enough.

“The Horns’ city is still locked in by ice,” he said. “Rim won’t be reachable until the pass to the north thaws. Could be a few weeks before then.”

“I know,” she said. “I thought it would have cleared by now. I’ll go north as soon as it does.”

She stepped away from him abruptly and scanned the woods, her head angling quick and sharp. He’d been there when she’d learned she was an Aud. Every sound had been a discovery. Now he watched as her attention shifted naturally to the noises of the night.

“Someone’s coming,” she said.

“Reef,” Perry said. “He’s one of my men.” No way had it already been an hour. Not even close. “There are more nearby.”

Perry caught the steep dive in her temper, a bracing, cool drift. In the next moment his heartbeat faltered. He hadn’t felt tethered to another’s emotions in months. Since he’d last been with her.

“When are you going back?” she asked.

“Soon. Morning.”

“I understand.” She looked from him to the chain, her expression growing distant. “The Tides need you.”

Perry shook his head. She didn’t understand. “I didn’t come out here to see you for a night, Aria. Come back to the Tides with me. It’s not safe out here, and—”

“I don’t need help, Perry.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He was too skitty to order his thoughts. Before he could say anything more, she took another step away, her hands hovering over the blades at her belt. Seconds later, Reef emerged from the woods, square shoulders hunched as he walked toward them. Perry cursed under his breath. He needed more time with her. Alone.

Reef’s steps caught when he saw Aria alert and armed. Probably not what he’d expected from a Dweller. Perry noticed her wary expression too. With the scar across his face and his challenging stare, Reef looked like someone to avoid.

Perry cleared his throat. “Aria, this is Reef, head of my guard.” It felt strange introducing two people who meant so much to him. Like they should already know each other.

Reef gave a tight nod, aimed at no one, and then shot Perry a hard look. “A word,” he said sharply, before he stalked off.

Anger streaked through Perry at being spoken to that way, but he trusted Reef. He looked at Aria. “I’ll be right back.”

He hadn’t gone far when Reef wheeled around, his braids swinging out. “I don’t have to tell you what your temper’s like right now, do I? It’s the scent of stupidity. You’ve brought us out here chasing after a girl who’s got you so—”

“She’s an Aud,” Perry interrupted. “She can hear you.”

Reef jabbed a finger in the air. “I want you to hear me, Peregrine. You have a tribe to think about. You can’t afford to lose your head over a girl—especially not a Dweller. Have you forgotten what happened? Because I promise you the tribe hasn’t.”

“The kidnappings weren’t her fault. She had nothing to do with them. And she’s only half Dweller.”

“She’s a Mole, Perry! One of them. That’s all anyone’s going to see.”

“They’ll do as I say.”

“Or maybe they’ll turn on you behind your back. How do you think they’ll take to seeing you with her? Vale might have traded with the Dwellers, but he never brought one into his bed.”

Perry shot forward, grabbing Reef by the vest. They stood, locked, inches apart. Reef’s temper brought an icy burn to the back of Perry’s tongue. “You’ve made your point.” Perry let Reef go and stepped back, drawing a few breaths. Silence stretched out between them, too loud after their arguing.

He saw the problem with bringing Aria back to the Tides. The tribe would blame her for the missing children, regardless of her innocence, because she was a Dweller. He knew it wouldn’t be easy—not at first—but he’d find a way to make it work. Whatever needed to be done next, he wanted her with him and it was his decision as Blood Lord.

Perry glanced to where Aria waited, then back at Reef. “You know what?”

“What?” Reef snapped.

“You’re a terrible judge of time.”

Reef smirked. He ran a hand over the back of his head and sighed. “So I am.” When he spoke again, his voice had lost its bite. “Perry, I don’t want to see you make this mistake.” He nodded at the chain. “I know what that cost you. I don’t want to watch you lose it.”

“I know what I’m doing.” Perry gripped the cool metal in his hand. “I’ve got this.”

2

ARIA

Aria stared at the trees, listening to Perry’s footsteps grow louder as he returned. She saw the gleam of the chain at his neck first and then his eyes, flashing in the darkness. They’d come together in such a rush before. Now, as he strode toward her, she took her first good look at him.

He was impressive. Much more than she remembered. He’d grown taller, as she’d first thought, and more muscular through the shoulders, settling into his lanky height. In the dim light she saw a dark coat and pants with fitted, clean lines, not the battered, patched-up clothes of the hunter she’d met in the fall. His blond hair was shorter, falling in layers that framed his face, so different from the long twisting waves she’d known before.

He was nineteen, but he seemed older than her friends in Reverie. How many of her friends had been through what he had? How many had hundreds of people to look after? None. They came from totally different worlds. Aether, she thought. That was the only thing Dwellers and Outsiders had in common. It threatened them both.

Perry stopped a few feet away. Pale light fell on the strong planes of his face, and she noticed shadows under his eyes. He ran a hand over the fine scruff on his jaw. The brushing sound was so familiar, Aria could almost feel the gold bristles beneath her fingertips.

“Sorry about Reef.”

“It’s all right,” she said, but it wasn’t. Reef’s words echoed in her mind. Dweller, he’d called her. Mole. Bitter insults. Words she hadn’t heard in months. At Marron’s, she’d fit in like she belonged.

Her gaze dropped to the ground between them. Three paces for her. Two for him. Moments ago they’d been pressed together. Now they stood apart like strangers. Like everything had just changed.

A mistake. Reef had said that, too. Was he right? “Maybe I should go.”

“No—stay.” Perry stepped forward and took her hand. “Forget what he said. He’s got a temper.... Worse than mine.”

She looked up at him. “Worse?”

His mouth lifted into the crooked smile she’d missed. “Almost worse.” He shifted closer, his expression growing serious. “I didn’t come here to see you for a night, or to offer to help you. I’m here because I want to be with you. It could be weeks before the pass to the north thaws. We’ll wait until it does, then search for the Still Blue together.” He paused, his gaze focused completely on her. “Come back with me, Aria. Be with me.”

Something brilliant unfolded inside of her at the sound of those words. She memorized them as she would a song: every note, unhurried, spoken in his deep, warm timbre. Whatever happened, she’d keep those words. She wanted nothing more than to say yes, but she couldn’t avoid the anxiety that swirled in her stomach.

“I want to,” she said. “But it’s not just the two of us anymore.” He had his responsibility to the Tides, and she had her own pressures. Consul Hess, Reverie’s Director of Security, had threatened Perry’s nephew, Talon, if Aria didn’t bring him the location of the Still Blue. It was the reason—one of the reasons—she’d come back to the outside.

Aria looked into Perry’s eyes and couldn’t bring herself to tell him about Hess’s blackmail. There was nothing he could do. Telling him would only make him worry. “Reef said the tribe would turn on you,” she said instead.

“Reef’s wrong.” Perry’s gaze flicked to the woods in annoyance. “It may take them some time to adjust, but they will.” He squeezed her hand, a smile lighting in his eyes. “Say yes. I know you want to. Roar will beat me if I show up without you, and there’s another reason you should come. Maybe it’ll help you decide.”

He slid his hand up her arm and ran his thumb over her bicep. The feel of his archer’s calluses, somehow both rough and soft, sent a thrill through her. She heard the trees rustle with a breeze, and then felt it brush cool against her cheeks. No one planted her as firmly in her skin as he did.

Perry was talking. She had to backtrack in her thoughts to catch up. “You need Markings. It’s dangerous not to have them. Concealing a Sense is deceitful, Aria. People are killed for hiding them.”

“Roar told me,” she said. She’d been hiding out in the woods since leaving Marron’s, so her lack of Markings hadn’t been a problem yet. But once she went north, she’d come across other people. She couldn’t deny that she’d be much safer with the Audile tattoos.

“Only a Blood Lord can warrant them,” Perry said. “I happen to know one.”

“You’d support me getting Markings? Even though I’m only half Outsider?”

He tipped his head to the side, blond waves falling across his eyes. “Yes. I very much want to.”

“Perry, what about …” Aria trailed off, not sure she wanted to voice the question that had plagued her for months, but she had to know. Even if it meant hearing something that would crush her. “You told me you’d only be with another Scire, and I’m not …” She bit her lip and finished the sentence in the safety of her thoughts. I’m not like you. I’m not what you said you wanted.

Her face warmed as he watched her. No matter what she said or didn’t say, he’d scent the depth of her insecurity.

He shifted closer, tracing the line of her jaw. “You changed the way I think about a lot of things. That’s only one of them.”

Suddenly she couldn’t imagine leaving him. She had to find a way to make this work. The tribe would hate her for being a Dweller—she was sure of that. And if she and Perry arrived at the compound hand in hand, the Tides would lose all faith in his judgment. But what if she and Perry turned the focus onto something else? Onto something they both needed? An idea took shape in her mind.

“Did you tell the Tides anything about me?” she asked.

He frowned. The question seemed to catch him off balance. “I told a few people you’d help find the Still Blue.”

“That’s all?”

“I haven’t talked about us with anyone, if that’s what you mean.” He shrugged. “It’s private.... Between us.”

“We should keep it that way. I’ll go back with you as an ally, and we’ll keep us out of it.”

He laughed, the sound flat and humorless. “You’re serious? You mean lie?”

“It wouldn’t be lying. It’s no different from what you just said: keeping it private. We could ease the tribe into it that way. We won’t talk about us until we have a better idea of how they’ll take it. Roar would keep quiet if we asked him. Would Reef?”

Perry nodded, his jaw clenched. “He’s pledged to me. He’ll do anything I ask of him.”

The sound of a branch snapping pulled her attention to the darkened woods. Three distinct strides took form, one heavier than the others. The rest of Perry’s guard was on the way. They spoke in quiet tones, yet each voice was unique to her ears, as singular as the features of a person’s face. “The others are coming.”

“Let them come,” Perry said. “They’re my men, Aria. I don’t have to hide anything from them.”

She wanted to believe him, but they had to be smart. As a new leader, he needed his tribe behind him. But she couldn’t deny that being Marked would improve her chances of finding the Still Blue, to say nothing of the advantage Perry would provide on her journey to Rim. He was a hunter, a warrior. A survivor. More at ease in the borderlands than anyone she knew. All good reasons to go to the Tides for a few weeks before searching for the Still Blue. She and Perry would get everything they wanted if they just showed a little caution.

Perry’s guards were closing in, their footsteps growing louder by the second. Aria stood on her toes, resting her hands on his chest. “This is the best way—the safest,” she whispered. “Trust me.”

She pressed her lips quickly to his, but it wasn’t close to being enough. She took his face between her hands, feeling the soft scruff she’d missed, and kissed him again firmly, fiercely, before she backed away.

When Reef and two other men appeared, she and Perry stood several paces apart—the distance between strangers.

3

PEREGRINE

Two days later, Perry came through a stand of oaks and the Tide compound appeared, crowning the top of a slope with the thickly clouded sky at its back. Fields rolled out on either side of the dirt road, stretching to the hills that framed the valley.

Growing up, he’d imagined being Blood Lord plenty of times, but nothing compared with the feeling he had now. This was the first time he’d come home to his territory. Earth to sky and every person, tree, and rock in between belonged to him.

Aria appeared at his side. “Is that the compound?”

Perry shifted the bow and quiver on his back, covering his surprise. On their return, she’d paid him no more attention than she had Reef, who wouldn’t look at her, or Gren and Twig, who couldn’t stop staring. They’d slept across the fire from each other at night, and had hardly spoken during the days. When they had spoken, their exchanges had felt brief and cold. He hated pretending around her, but if it helped her feel comfortable coming back with him, he’d go along with it. For now.

“Right there,” he said, nodding. Rain had threatened all day, and now a light drizzle began to fall. He wished the clouds would part to show the sun or the Aether—any light at all—but the sky had been overcast for days. “My father had it built in a circle—easier to defend. We have wooden walls that draw closed between the houses during raids. The highest structure … See the roof over there?” He pointed. “That’s the cookhouse. The heart of the tribe.”

Perry paused as Twig and Gren passed them. He’d sent Reef ahead that morning to make an announcement to the Tides, letting everyone know that Aria was under his protection as an ally. He wanted her arrival to go as smoothly as possible. With Twig and Gren pulling ahead, he let himself step closer to her and nodded toward the burnt stretch of land to the south.

“An Aether storm tore right through those woods in the winter. It took out part of our best farmland.” A small shudder rolled through his shoulders as her temper hit him. Bright green, a scent like mint. She was alert and a little skitty with nerves. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be rendered to another person, to not only scent their tempers but feel them himself. Aria didn’t know this bond existed between them. He hadn’t told her in the fall, having thought then that he’d never see her again, but he’d do it soon, when he got her alone.

“The damage could’ve been worse, though,” he continued. “We kept the fires from spreading, and the compound wasn’t hit.”

He watched her as she studied the horizon. The Tide Valley wasn’t a large territory, but it was fertile, near the sea, and well positioned for defense. Could she see that? It was good land when the Aether left it alone. He didn’t know how much longer that would be. Another year? Two, at the most, before it became nothing but scorched earth?

“It’s much prettier than I imagined,” she said.

He let out his breath, relieved. “Yeah?”

Aria looked at him, her eyes smiling. “Yeah.” She turned away, and Perry wondered if they’d been standing too close. Couldn’t they talk if they were pretending to be allies? Was a smile too much? Then he saw what she’d heard.

Willow charged toward them at full speed on the dirt path, Flea galloping at her side. The dog thundered up first, laying back his ears and baring his teeth at Aria.

“It’s all right,” Perry said. “He’s friendly.”

Aria stood her ground and rolled on the balls of her feet, ready to move quickly. “He doesn’t look it,” she said.

Roar had told him she’d become a skilled fighter in the past months. Perry saw the difference now. She looked stronger, quicker. More comfortable with fear.

Tearing his eyes away from her, he knelt. “Here, Flea. Give her some space.” Flea inched forward and sniffed Aria’s boots, his tail wagging slowly, before he pranced over. Perry scratched his wiry coat, a patchwork of brown and black fur. “He’s Willow’s dog. You’ll never see them apart.”

“Then I guess this is Willow,” she said.

Perry straightened in time to see Willow blow past Gren and Twig with a hasty greeting; then she jumped into his arms the same way she’d done since she was three. At thirteen she was getting too big for that, but it made him laugh, so Willow kept doing it.

“You told me you’d only be a few days,” she said as soon as Perry set her down. She was in her usual outfit—dusty pants, dusty boots, dusty shirt, and red strips of fabric braided through her dark hair, made from pieces of the skirt her mother had sewn for her over the winter but that she’d taken apart.

Perry smiled. “It was only a few days.”

“Felt like forever,” Willow said, and then she peered at Aria, her dark brown eyes suspicious.

When she’d first been cast out of Reverie, Aria had been hard to miss as a Dweller. She’d spoken in sharp, clipped sounds, her skin had been pale as milk, and her scent had been rancy and off. Those differences had faded away. She was noticeable for another reason now—the same reason Twig and Gren had stared at her for the past two days when she wasn’t looking.

“Roar told me a Dweller was coming,” Willow said finally. “He said I’d like you.”

“I hope he’s right,” Aria said, petting Flea on the head. The dog now sat against her leg, panting happily.

Willow lifted her chin. “Well, Flea likes you, so maybe I will too.” She looked up at Perry, frowning, and he scented her temper. Usually it was a bright citrus scent, but now a dark tinge blurred into the edges of his vision, telling him something wasn’t right.

“What’s happened, Will?” he asked.

“All I know is Bear and Wylan have been waiting for you, and they don’t look happy. I thought you’d want to know.” Willow’s narrow shoulders lifted in a shrug; then she sped off, with Flea loping beside her.

Perry made for the compound, wondering what he’d find. Bear, a wall of a man with a gentle heart and hands permanently stained from working the earth, was lead on anything related to farming. Slight and surly, Wylan was the Tides’ head fisherman. The two bickered constantly about where the Tides’ resources belonged, in a never-ending battle between earth and sea. Perry hoped that it was nothing more.

Aria strode beside him with confidence as they passed through the main gates and stepped into the clearing at the center of the compound, but he scented the cool tone of her fear. He saw his home through her eyes then—a circle of cottages made of wood and stone and weathered by the salt air—and wondered again what she was thinking. It was nowhere as comfortable as Marron’s, and there’d be no comparison at all to what she was used to in the Pods.

They’d arrived just before supper—unfortunate timing. Dozens of people milled around, waiting for the call to eat. Others stood at their windows and crowded their doors, watching with wide eyes. One of Gray’s boys pointed, while the other giggled at his side. Brooke rose from a bench in front of her house, looking from him to Aria and back. In a guilty flash, Perry remembered a conversation he’d had with her over the winter. He’d told Brooke they couldn’t be together because he had too much on his mind. That too much had been Aria—the girl who, at that time, he thought he’d never see again.

Nearby, Bear and Wylan stood talking with Reef. They looked over, falling silent. Some instinct kept Perry moving toward his house. He’d deal with them soon enough. He didn’t see the one person whose help he could use right now: Roar.

Perry stopped before his door and nudged aside a basket of kindling with his foot. He looked at Aria standing beside him and felt like he should say something. Welcome? You’ll be safe here? Everything seemed too formal.

“It’s small,” he said finally.

He stepped inside, cringing as he saw blankets scattered across the floor and dirty mugs on the table. Clothes lay tossed in a pile in the corner, and a stack of books along the far wall had toppled over. The sea was half an hour away, but there was a dusting of sand on the floorboards beneath his feet. He supposed it could’ve looked worse for a house shared by half a dozen men.

“The Six sleep here,” he explained. “I met them after you …” He couldn’t say left. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t say the word. “They’re my guard now. Marked, all of them. You’ve met Reef, Twig, and Gren already. The rest are brothers: Hyde, Hayden, and Straggler. Seers, the three of them. Strag’s name is actually Haven, but … you’ll see. It suits him.” He rubbed his chin, forcing himself to shut up.

“Do you have a candle or a lamp?” she asked.

Only then did he notice the dimness. To him, the room’s lines were cut in sharp relief. To Aria—or anyone else—they’d be lost. He was always aware of being a Scire, but he forgot about his vision until times like this. He was a Seer, but the real power of his eyes was the keenness of his sight in darkness. Aria had once called it a mutation—an effect of the Aether that had warped his Sense more than others’. He thought of it more as a curse, a reminder of the Seer mother who’d died bringing him to life.

Perry opened the shutters, letting in the murky afternoon light. Outside, the clearing buzzed with gossip as news of Aria’s arrival spread. Nothing he could do about it. He crossed his arms, his stomach clenching, as he watched her absorb the space. He couldn’t believe she was there, in his house.

Aria came to the window beside him and studied Talon’s collection of carved falcons, which rested on the sill. Perry knew he needed to see Bear and Wylan, but he couldn’t move.

He cleared his throat. “Talon and I did those. His are the good ones. Mine is the one that looks like a turtle.”

She picked it up and turned it in her hand. Her gray eyes were warm as she looked up and said, “It’s my favorite.”

Perry’s gaze moved to her lips. They were alone. This was as close as they’d stood since she’d last been in his arms.

She set the carving down and stepped away. “You’re sure I can stay here?”

“Yes. You can have the room.” From where he stood, he could see the edge of his brother’s bed, covered with a faded red blanket. He’d rather she not stay in there, but saw no better choice. “I sleep up there,” he said, tipping his head to the loft.

Aria dropped her satchel against the wall and glanced at the front door, smiling at a sound beyond the reach of his ears. A second later, Roar blew into the house in a dark flash.

“Finally!” he bellowed. He wrapped Aria into a hug, lifting her off the ground. “What took you two so long? Don’t answer that.” He glanced at Perry. “I think I know.” He set her down and then clasped Perry’s hand. “Good you’re back, Per.”

“What did I miss?” Perry asked, grinning.

Before Roar could answer, Wylan, Bear, and Reef arrived, crowding in as the house fell into a thick silence. They stood for a long moment, all eyes fixed on the only stranger among them. The tempers in the room sharpened, heating up and bleeding red into Perry’s vision. They didn’t want her there. He’d known they’d react this way, but his hands curled into fists anyway.

“This is Aria,” he said, fighting the urge to step toward her. “She’s half Dweller, as Reef’s told you. She’ll be helping us find the Still Blue, in exchange for shelter. While she’s here, she’ll be Marked as an Audile.”

The words felt like gravel rolling from his mouth. They were true, but a partial truth, which felt more like a lie. Perry saw the questioning look in Roar’s eyes.

Bear stepped forward, wringing his big hands. “Excuse my asking, Perry, but how’s a Mole going to help us?”

Wylan muttered something under his breath. Aria’s eyes snapped to him, and Roar tensed. Auds both, they’d heard him clearly.

Perry felt a flash of heat, and had the urge to cuff Wylan. He realized that what he felt—what gripped him—was Aria’s temper. He drew a breath, grasping for control. “You have something to say, Wylan?”

“No,” he answered. “Nothing to say. Just checking if her ears work.” He smirked. “They do.”

Reef dropped a hand on Wylan’s shoulder with enough force that the smaller man winced. “Bear and Wylan were just telling me what happened while we were away,” he said, changing the subject.

Perry prepared himself for their latest argument. “Let’s hear it.”

Bear crossed his arms over his broad chest, his thick eyebrows drawing together. “We had a fire in the storeroom last night. We think it was the boy who came back with Roar. Cinder.”

Perry glanced at Roar and Aria, alarm running through him. They were the only ones who knew about Cinder’s unique ability to channel the Aether. They protected Cinder’s secret by unspoken agreement.

“No one saw him do it,” Roar said, reading his mind. “He ran before anyone could catch him.”

“He’s gone?” Perry asked.

Roar rolled his eyes. “You know how he is. He’ll come back. He always does.”

Perry flexed his scarred hand. If he hadn’t seen Cinder lay waste to a band of Croven with his own eyes, he wouldn’t believe it himself. “The damage?”

Bear tipped his head toward the door. “Might be easier if I show you,” he said, heading outside.

Perry paused at the threshold and looked back at Aria. She gave a small shrug of understanding. They’d been there less than ten minutes, and already he had to leave her. He hated it, but he had no choice.

The storeroom in the back of the cookhouse was a long stone room lined with wooden shelves, which were stacked with containers of grain, jars of spices and herbs, and baskets of early spring vegetables. Usually scents of food hung in the cool air, but as Perry stepped inside, the smell of burnt wood was thick. Beneath it he caught a trace of the sting of Aether—a smell that was also Cinder’s.

The damage was contained to one side of the room. Part of a shelf was gone, burned to nothing.

“He must have dropped a lamp or something,” Bear said, scratching his thick black beard. “We got to it quickly, but we still lost a lot. We had to throw out two bins of grain.”

Perry nodded. It was food they couldn’t afford to lose. The Tides were already on tight rations.

“The kid’s stealing from you,” Wylan said. “He’s stealing from us. Next time I see him, I’ll run him off the territory.”

“No,” Perry said. “Send him to me.”

4

ARIA

You all right?” Roar whispered as the house emptied.

Aria let out her breath and nodded, though she wasn’t quite sure. Aside from him and Perry, everyone who’d stood in this room despised her because of who she was. Because of what she was.

A Dweller. A girl who lived in a domed city. A Mole tramp, as Wylan had whispered under his breath. She’d been preparing herself for that, especially after days of Reef’s cold stares, but she felt shaken anyway. It would be the same if Perry entered Reverie, she realized. Worse. Reverie Guardians would kill an Outsider on sight.

She turned away from the door, her eyes drifting across the cozy, cluttered home. A table with painted chairs to one side. Bowls and pots in every color along the shelves behind it. Two leather chairs before the hearth, worn but comfortable-looking. Along the far wall she saw baskets with books and wooden toys. It was cool and quiet, and smelled faintly of smoke and old wood.

“This is his home, Roar.”

“Yes. It is.”

“I can’t believe I’m here. It’s warmer than I expected.”

“It used to be more so.”

A year ago, this house would’ve been packed with Perry’s family. Now he was the only one left. Aria wondered if that was why the Six slept there. Surely there were other homes they could occupy. Maybe a full house helped keep Perry from missing his family. She doubted it. No one could ever fill the void her mother had left. People couldn’t be replaced.

She pictured her own room in Reverie. A small space, spare and neat, with gray walls and an inset dresser. Her room had been home once. She felt no longing for it. Now it seemed as inviting as the inside of a steel box. What she missed was the way she’d felt there. Safe. Loved. Surrounded by people who accepted her. Who didn’t whisper Mole tramp at her.

She had no place of her own now, she realized. No things like the falcon figurines on the windowsill. No objects to prove she existed. All her belongings were virtual, kept in the Realms. They weren’t real. She didn’t even have a mother anymore.

A feeling of weightlessness came over her. Like a balloon that had slipped free from its tether, she was floating, made of nothing more than air.

“You hungry?” Roar asked behind her, oblivious, his tone light and cheerful as always. “We usually eat in the cookhouse, but I could bring something for us here.”

She turned. Roar rested a hip against the table, his arms crossed. He wore black from head to toe, like she did.

He smiled. “Not as comfortable as Marron’s, is it?”

They’d spent the past months there together while he’d healed from a leg wound. While she’d healed from deeper wounds. Little by little, one day after another, they’d brought each other back.

Roar’s smile widened. “I know. You missed me.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s barely been three weeks since I saw you.”

“Miserable stretch of time,” he said. “So, food?”

Aria glanced at the door. She couldn’t hide if she wanted the Tides to accept her. She had to face them directly. She nodded. “Lead the way.”

“Her skin’s too smooth—like an eel.”

The voice, dripping with malice, carried to Aria’s ears.

The tribe had begun to gossip about her before she’d even taken a seat with Roar at one of the tables. She picked up the heavy spoon and stirred the bowl of stew in front of her, trying to focus on other things.

The cookhouse was a rough-hewn structure, part medieval hall, part hunting lodge. It was packed with long trestle tables and candles. Two massive fireplaces roared on either side. Children chased each other around the perimeter, their voices mixing with the gurgle of boiling water and the crackle of the fires. With the clanking of spoons and the slurps of people talking, eating, drinking. A belch. Laughter. The bark of a dog. All of it amplified by thick stone walls. Despite the racket, she couldn’t help isolating the cruel whispering voices.

Two young women carried on a conversation the next table over. One was a pretty blonde with bright blue eyes. The same girl who’d been watching Aria as she’d entered Perry’s house. That had to be Brooke. Her younger sister, Clara, was in Reverie, too. Vale had sold her off like Talon, in exchange for food for the Tides.

“I thought Dwellers died when they breathed outside air,” Brooke whispered, her gaze on Aria.

“They do,” said the other girl, “but I heard she’s only half Mole.”

“Someone actually bred with a Dweller?”

Aria’s grip tightened around the spoon. They were slandering her mother, who was dead, and her father, who was a mystery. Then it hit her. The Tides would say the same things about her and Perry, if they knew the truth. They’d talk about them breeding.

“Perry said she’s going to be Marked.”

“A Mole with a Sense,” Brooke said. “Unbelievable. What is she?”

“An Aud, I think.”

“That means she can hear us.”

Laughter.

Aria gritted her teeth at the sound. Roar, who’d been sitting quietly by her side, leaned toward her.

“Listen closely,” he whispered into her ear. “This is the most important thing you need to know while you’re here.” She stared at the bowl of stew in front of her, her heart slamming into her ribs.

“Do not eat the haddock. They’ve been overcooking it terribly.”

She jabbed her elbow into his ribs. “Roar.”

“I’m serious. It’s as tough as leather.” Roar looked across the table. “Isn’t it true, Old Will?” he said to a grizzled man with a shockingly white beard.

Though Aria had been on the outside for months, she still marveled at wrinkles and scars and signs of age. She’d thought them disgusting once. Now the man’s leathery face almost made her smile. Bodies on the outside wore experiences like souvenirs.

Willow, the girl Aria had met earlier, sat beside him. Aria felt a weight settle on her boot and looked down to see Flea.

“Grandpa, Roar asked you something,” Willow said.

The older man cocked his ear toward Roar. “What was that, pretty?”

Roar raised his voice in answer. “I was telling Aria here not to eat the haddock.”

Old Will studied her, his lips pursed in a sour expression. Aria’s cheeks warmed as she waited for his reaction. It was one thing to hear whispers, but another to be shunned to her face.

“I’m seventy,” he said finally. “Seventy years old and going strong.”

“Old Will isn’t an Aud,” Roar whispered.

“I got that, thanks. Did he just call you pretty?”

Roar nodded, chewing. “Can you blame him?”

Her eyes moved over his even features. “No. I really can’t,” she said, though pretty didn’t quite fit Roar’s dark looks.

“So you’re getting Markings,” he said. “How about I vouch for you?”

“I thought Perry—Peregrine was going to?” Aria said.

“Perry will warrant them, and he’ll preside over the ceremony, but that’s only one part of it. The part only a Blood Lord can do.”

The stout woman on Roar’s opposite side leaned forward. “Someone with your same Sense needs to take an oath swearing that your hearing is true. If you’re an Aud, only another Aud can do that.”

Aria smiled, noting the emphasis the woman placed on the word if. “I am an Aud, so that’ll be the case.”

The woman studied her with eyes the color of honey. She seemed to decide something, because the grim set of her mouth softened. “I’m Molly.”

“Molly is our healer, and Bear’s wife,” Roar said. “Much fiercer than the big man, though, aren’t you, Molly?” He turned back to Aria. “So it should be me doing the vouching, don’t you think? I’m perfect for it. I’ve taught you everything.”

Aria shook her head, trying not to smile. Truly, Roar was the perfect choice. He had taught her all she knew about sounds—and knives. “Everything except modesty.”

He made a face. “Who needs that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you do, pretty.”

“Nonsense,” he said, and tucked back into his food.

Aria forced herself to do the same. The stew was a tasty mix of barley and whitefish, but she couldn’t eat more than a few bites. Not only was the tribe whispering about her, but she felt them gawking, watching every move she made.

She set her spoon down and reached beneath the table, petting Flea on the head. He blinked at her, shifting closer. He had an intelligent expression absent from dogs in the Realms. She hadn’t realized animals had such distinct personalities. It was just another one of the endless differences between her old life and her new one. She wondered if the Tides would change their minds about her, as Flea had.

Aria looked up as the chatter in the hall quieted. Perry came through the door with three young men. Blond and tall, two resembled Perry in their muscular build. Hyde and Hayden, she guessed. The third, a few steps behind them and a head shorter, could only be Straggler. They all carried themselves like Seers: bows across their backs, their posture tall, and their eyes scanning.

Perry spotted her immediately. He tipped his head—a safe acknowledgment between allies, but it left her holding her breath, wanting more. Then he took a table by the door with the brothers, disappearing into a sea of heads. Moments later, the cruel voices drifted back to her ears.

“She doesn’t look real. I bet she wouldn’t even bleed if you cut her.”

“Let’s try it. Just a little nick to see if it’s true.”

Aria followed the voice. Brooke’s blue eyes bored into her. Aria placed her hand on Roar’s wrist, grateful for his unique ability. He could hear thoughts through touch. She’d barely been fazed when she discovered that about him. It didn’t feel much different from the Smarteye she’d worn her entire life, which worked by a similar process—by hearing thought patterns through physical contact.

That’s Perry’s girl, she thought to him. Isn’t it?

Roar stilled, his spoon halfway to his mouth. “No … I’m pretty sure that would be you.”

She’s evil. I might want to hurt her.

Roar grinned. “That I want to see.”

“Look at her.” It was Brooke’s voice again. “She’s moving in on Roar. I know you can hear me, Mole. You’re wasting your time on him. He’s Liv’s.”

Aria snatched her hand away from his wrist. Roar sighed, his eyes sliding over to her. He set his spoon down and pushed his bowl away. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I want to show you something.”

She pulled her legs from beneath the table and followed him, keeping her focus on Roar’s back. As she passed Perry, she slowed, allowing herself a glance. He was listening to Reef, across from him, but his eyes flicked up, meeting hers.

She wished she could tell him how much she missed him. How much she wanted to be the one sitting with him. Then she realized that through her temper, she had.

Roar led her along a trail that wove through sand dunes. Aether light filtered through the clouds, casting a glow over the path and the tall, rustling grass. As they walked, a rushing sound mixed with the low whistle of the wind. It moved through her—hiss and whisper and roar—growing louder and clearer with every step she took.

Aria stopped as they came over the last dune. The ocean stretched out before her, alive, spreading to the end of everything. She heard a million waves, each one distinct, ferocious, but together a chorus that was serene and grander than anything she’d ever known. She’d seen the ocean plenty of times in the Realms, but it hadn’t prepared her for the real thing.

“If beauty had a sound, this would be it.”

“I knew it would help,” Roar said, his smile a white flash in the darkness. “Auds say the sea holds every sound that’s ever been heard. All you have to do is listen.”

“I didn’t know that.” She closed her eyes, letting the sound wash over her, and listened for her mother’s voice. Where were Lumina’s calm assurances that patience and logic would solve any problem? She didn’t hear them, but she believed they were there. Aria glanced at Roar, pushing away the grief. “See? You haven’t taught me everything.”

“True,” Roar said. “I can’t run the risk of boring you.”

They walked closer to the water together. Then Roar sat, leaning back on his elbows. “So what’s with the act?”

Aria sat next to him. “It’s for the best,” she said, digging her fingers into the sand. The top layer still held the day’s warmth, but beneath it was cool and damp. She drizzled it over Roar’s knee. “You heard how they hate me. Imagine if they knew Perry and I were together.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” Roar smiled like he was about to tease her. The moment felt utterly familiar, though they’d never been here before. How many times had they talked about Perry and Liv over the winter?

Aria poured another handful of sand on his knee, listening to the delicate drizzle beneath the crash of the surf. “It was my idea. It’s the safest way, but it’s strange pretending to be something different. It’s like there’s a glass wall between us. Like I can’t touch him or … reach him. I don’t like the way it feels.”

Roar wiggled his knee, upsetting her sand pile. “Does his voice still sound like smoke and fire?”

Aria rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I told you that.”

He tipped his head to the side in a gesture that was pure Perry, putting a hand over his heart, which wasn’t. “Aria, your scent … it’s like a blooming flower.” He modulated his voice perfectly to sound like Perry’s deep drawl. “Come here, my sweet rose.”

Aria jabbed him in the shoulder, which only made him laugh. “It’s violet. And you’re going to pay when I meet Liv.”

Roar’s smile vanished. He ran a hand over his dark hair and sat up, growing quiet as he stared at the breaking waves.

“Still no word?” she asked quietly. When Perry’s sister had disappeared last spring, she’d left Roar heartbroken.

He shook his head. “No word.”

Aria sat up, brushing off her hands. “There will be soon. She’ll turn up.” She wished she hadn’t mentioned Liv. Roar had to feel her absence more than ever here, where they’d both grown up.

She looked across the ocean. Deep in the distance, clouds pulsed with glaring light. Aether funnels were striking. Aria couldn’t imagine being out there. Perry had told her once that rogue storms were always a danger at sea. She didn’t know how the Tides’ fishermen found the courage to go out every day.

“You know, glass is pretty easy to break, Aria.” Roar was watching her, his gaze thoughtful.

“You’re right.” How could she complain? She had it so much easier than he did. At least she and Perry were in the same place. “You’ve convinced me. I’m going to break the glass, Roar. Next chance I get.”

“Good. Shatter it.”

“I will. And you will too, when we find Liv.” She waited for him to agree—wanted him to—but Roar changed the subject.

“Does Hess know you’ve come here?”

“No,” she said. She slipped the Smarteye from a small pocket in the lining of her leather satchel. “But I need to contact him.” She should’ve done it yesterday, their planned meeting day, but she hadn’t found a chance on her journey to the Tides. “I’ll do it now.”

The smooth patch, clear as a water droplet and nearly as supple, struck her as something from another world after all the sun-bleached and wind-frayed edges of the compound. It was from another world—hers. She’d worn the device all her life without so much as a thought. All Dwellers did. It was how they moved through the Realms. She’d only recently begun to dread it. She had Consul Hess to thank for that.

Aria brought the Smarteye up, laying it over her left eye. The device suctioned to the skin around her eye socket, the pressure firm and familiar, and then the biotech plastic at the center softened, turning to liquid. She blinked a few times, adjusting to seeing through the clear interface. Red letters appeared, floating against the ocean, as the Eye powered on.

WELCOME TO THE REALMS! BETTER THAN REAL!

They faded out, and then AUTHENTICATING appeared.

She turned her head, watching the letters track with her movement.

ACCEPTED flickered up, and a familiar prickling sensation spread across her scalp and down her spine. Only one generic icon, labeled HESS, hovered against the darkness. When she’d had her own Smarteye, the screen had been filled with icons for her favorite Realms, news crawls, and messages from her friends. But Hess had programmed this Eye to only reach him.

“Are you in?” Roar asked.

“I’m in.”

He lay down, resting his head on his arm. “Wake me up when you’re back.” To him, she’d appear to be sitting quietly on the beach. He’d have no window into the Realms the Smarteye opened to her.

“I’m still here, you know.”

Roar closed his eyes. “No, you’re not. Not really.”

With a deliberate thought, she selected the icon, letting Hess know she was there. Moments later she fractioned, her consciousness splitting, dividing. The feeling was jarring but painless—like waking up suddenly in a strange place. In an instant she existed in two places at once: on the beach with Roar, and in the virtual construct of the Realm Hess had brought her to. She shifted her focus to the Realm and went still, momentarily dazzled by the brightness. Then she looked around, adjusting to a world turned pink.

Cherry trees spread around her in every direction. Blossoms loaded down their branches and coated the ground like a pink dusting of snow. An aimless, everywhere rustle reached her ears, and then a shower of petals drifted down in a rosy blizzard.

She found it breathtaking until she noticed the symmetry of the branches and the perfect spacing of the trees. She realized she hadn’t heard the petals fall, or the creak of branches. The breeze held an empty, one-note sound. Far too aggressive for what she knew was right. Better than Real, they said of the Realms. She’d thought so too, once. For years she’d cruised spaces like this from within the safety of Reverie’s walls, not knowing any better. Not knowing that nothing was better than real.

Or worse, she thought, suddenly remembering Paisley. Her best friend had only seen the terrible parts of the real world. Fire. Pain. Violence. Aria still couldn’t believe she was gone. Almost all of her memories of Paisley included Paisley’s older brother, too. It had always been the three of them.

How was Caleb doing in Reverie? Was he still cruising to the art Realms? Had he moved on? She swallowed against the tight feeling in her throat, missing him. Missing her other friends, Rune and Pixie, and how light life used to be. Underwater concerts and parties in the clouds. Ridiculous Realms like Dinosaur Laser Tag and Cloud Surfing and Date a Greek God. Her life had changed so much. Now, when she slept, she kept her knives within reach.

Aria looked up, and her breath caught. Through the pink branches she saw a light blue sky with no veins of Aether, no coating of glowing clouds. That had been the sky three hundred years ago, before the Unity. Before a massive solar flare had corrupted the Earth’s magnetosphere, opening the door to cosmic storms. To an alien atmosphere that was unimaginably devastating. Aether. This blue sky was what she pictured over the Still Blue—bright and open and calm.

She lowered her gaze and found Consul Hess sitting at a table twenty paces away. Small, with a marble top and two iron chairs, the table belonged in a bistro in a European square. Whatever Realm Hess chose, that detail never changed.

Aria looked down at herself. A kimono had replaced her black pants, shirt, and boots. This garment was made of thick cream brocade, patterned with red and pink flowers. It was beautiful, and far too tight.

“Is this necessary?” she asked, as always.

Hess watched in silence as she walked over. He had a severe face, chiseled, with wide-set eyes and a thin mouth that gave him a lizard-like appearance. “It befits the Realm,” he said, his gaze traveling up and down her body. “And I find your Outsider clothing unsavory.”

Aria sat across from him, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. She could barely cross her legs in the dress, and what was the waxy coating on her lips? She touched her finger and came away with scarlet lipstick. Really. This was too much.

“Your clothes don’t befit the Realm,” she said. Hess was in Dweller grays, as usual—clothes similar to those she’d worn in Reverie all her life, the only difference being that his grays had blue stripes along the collar and sleeves to show his position as Consul. “Neither does this table or the coffee.”

Hess ignored her and poured coffee into two delicate cups as pink petals sprinkled the table. Aria studied the gurgling sound, which was clear and sharp but oddly shapeless. The fragrant, rich scent set her mouth watering. Everything was the way it’d been for the past months. A fanciful Realm. This table and chairs. Strong, dark coffee. Except Hess’s hands were trembling.

He took a sip. When he set the cup down, it struck with a clack. He raised his eyes to hers. “I’m disappointed, Aria. You’re late. I thought I had impressed the urgency of your task upon you. Now I wonder if you need to be reminded of what’s at stake if you fail.”

“I know what’s at stake,” she said tightly. Talon. Reverie. Everything.

“And yet you’ve taken a little detour. Do you think I can’t tell where you are? You’ve gone to see the boy’s uncle, haven’t you? Peregrine?”

Hess was tracking her movements through the Smarteye. It didn’t surprise Aria, but she felt her pulse pick up anyway. She didn’t want him to know anything about Perry. “I can’t go north yet, Hess. The pass to the Horns is frozen.”

He leaned forward. “I could have you there tomorrow on a Hover.”

“They hate us,” she said. “They haven’t forgotten the Unity. I can’t go charging in as a Dweller.”

“They’re Savages,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “I don’t care what they think.”

Aria became aware of how quickly she was breathing. Roar sat up. He watched her intently in the real, sensing her tension. Savages. She’d once thought of them that way too. Now Roar’s presence anchored and calmed her.

“You have to let me do this my way,” she said to Hess.

“I don’t like your way. You’re late reporting in. You’re wasting time with some Outsider. I want that information, Aria. Get me coordinates. A direction. A map. Anything.”

As he spoke, she noticed the shiftiness in his small eyes and the red flush creeping up his collar. In all their meetings over the winter, he’d never been this nervous and combative. Something had him worried.

“I want to see Talon,” she said.

“Not until you get me what I need.”

“No,” she said. “I need to see him—”

Everything stopped. The cherry blossoms froze, suspending in midair around her. The sound of the wind vanished, and a sudden dead silence fell over the Realm. After an instant, the petals rose up in reverse, then seemed to catch and flitter down again, normally, floating to the ground as sounds returned.

Aria saw the shocked look on Hess’s face. “What was that?” she asked. “What just happened?”

“Come back in three days,” he snapped. “Don’t be late, and you’d better be on your way north by then.” He fractioned out, disappearing.

“Hess!” she yelled.

“Aria, what’s wrong?”

Roar’s voice. She shifted her focus. His eyebrows were drawn with concern.

“I’m all right,” she said, quickly running through the commands in her mind to take off the Eye. Aria gripped it in her hand, rage blurring her vision.

Roar moved closer. “What happened?” he asked.

She shook her head. She wasn’t entirely sure herself. Something had gone wrong. She’d never seen a Realm freeze before. Had Hess done that on purpose to scare her? But he’d been nervous too. What was he hiding? Why the sudden urgency that she go to the Horns?

“Aria,” Roar prompted. “Talk to me.”

“Hess knows I’m here. And he wants me to head north right away,” she said, choosing her words carefully, making no mention of Talon. “He doesn’t care that the pass is frozen.”

“He’s a bastard, Hess.” Roar’s gaze moved beyond her, up the beach. “But I’ve got good news for you. Here comes your chance to break the glass.”

5

PEREGRINE

Perry walked down the beach toward Aria, aware of his every step. They’d only have a few minutes together at best, and he couldn’t reach her fast enough.

He met Roar halfway. “Keep an ear out?” Perry asked.

“Of course,” Roar said, cuffing him on the shoulder as he walked past.

Aria stood as he reached her. She pulled her dark hair over one shoulder. “Are you sure this is all right?” she asked, looking past him.

“For a little while,” he said. “Roar’s listening. Reef’s farther in on the trail.” It felt wrong to have men guarding him from his own tribe, but he was desperate to be alone with her.

“Did you find Cinder?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. I will, though.” He wanted to reach for her, but he scented her temper. She was nervous about something. He had an idea what that was. “Twig—he’s an Aud—he told me what happened in the cookhouse. What people were saying.”

“It’s nothing, Perry. Only gossip.”

“Give them a week,” he said. “It’ll get easier.”

She looked away and didn’t answer.

Perry ran a hand over his jaw, not sure why it felt like they were still pretending around each other. “Aria, what’s going on?” he asked.

She crossed her arms, and her temper cooled and cooled, turning to ice. Perry fought against the weight of it settling over him.

“Hess knows I’m here,” she said at last. “He’s making me leave. I need to go in a few days.”

He remembered the name. Hess was the Dweller who’d thrown her out of the Pod. “Does he know it’s not safe to go north yet?”

“Yes,” she said. “He doesn’t care.”

Her fear gripped him suddenly. “Did he threaten you?” Perry asked, his mind churning.

Aria shook her head, and it hit him.

“He has Talon. He’s using Talon, isn’t he?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. This is one time I really wish I could lie to you. I didn’t want to burden you.”

Perry fisted his hands, squeezing them until his knuckles ached. Vale had planned the kidnapping, but he still felt responsible. That wouldn’t go away until Talon was home safe. His gaze moved up the beach.

“This is where he was taken,” he said. “Right here. I watched the Dwellers kick him in the stomach and then drag him into a Hovercraft at the top of that dune.”

Aria stepped toward him and took his hands. Her fingers were cool and soft, but her grip was firm. “Hess won’t hurt him,” she said. “He wants the Still Blue. He’ll give us Talon in exchange.”

Perry couldn’t believe he had to buy his nephew. It was little different from what he would have to do to get Liv home, he realized. Vale had traded them both for food. Everything pointed to Perry going to the Horns. He needed the Still Blue—for his tribe, and for Talon. And he had to settle a debt with Sable for Liv not showing. Maybe then his sister would finally come home.

“It’s sooner than I thought,” he said, “but I’m going with you. We’ll leave in a few days and hope the pass is clear by then.”

“And if it’s not?”

He shrugged. “We’d battle against the ice. It would probably take us twice as long, but we could do it. I could get us there.”

Aria smiled at what he’d said. He didn’t know why, but it didn’t matter. She was smiling.

“All right,” she said. She wove her arms around him, turning her head to his chest. Perry brushed her hair away from her shoulder and breathed her in, letting the strength of her temper bring him back. One breath at a time, his anger faded into desire.

He traced the line of her spine with his thumb. Everything about her was graceful and strong. She drew back and met his eyes.

“This …” He was going to tell her that this was how they should’ve come together, days ago in the woods. This was what he’d thought about all winter—what he’d missed. But he couldn’t get past the way she felt, or the way she was looking at him.

“Yes,” she said. “This.”

Perry bent and kissed her lips. She curved against him, her sigh a warm drift against his cheek, and then nothing existed beyond her mouth and her skin and the feel of her body against his. They didn’t have long. People nearby. He could barely hold the thoughts in his mind. She was everything, and he wanted more.

At Roar’s warning whistle, he froze, his lips on her neck. “Tell me you didn’t hear that.”

“I heard it.”

Again he heard Roar’s signal, louder this time, insistent. Perry winced and straightened, taking her hands. Her scent was wrapped around him. The last thing he wanted was to leave her.

“We’ll get your Markings done before we go. And about hiding things between us … let’s drop it. It’s killing me not being able to touch you.”

Aria smiled up at him. “We’re leaving soon. Can we keep it up just until then?”

“You like seeing me suffer?”

She laughed softly. “The wait will be worth it, I promise. Now go.”

He kissed her once more, then tore himself away and ran up the beach, weightless over the sand.

Roar watched him from the top of the beach with a grin. “That was beautiful, Per. It was killing me, too.”

Perry laughed, smacking him on the head as he jogged by. “Not everything’s meant for your ears.”

He found Reef up the trail, stalling Bear and Wylan, who’d come in search of him. As they walked back to the compound, Bear spoke of the trouble he was having with a pair of farmers, Gray and Rowan. Wylan chimed in with petty complaints every dozen paces, his voice sharp and angry, as always. No matter what Perry did or said, it was never good enough for Wylan, who’d been one of Vale’s most devoted followers.

Perry listened with half a mind, doing all he could to keep himself from smiling.

An hour later, he sat on the roof of his house, alone for the first time in days. He dropped his arms over his knees and closed his eyes, relishing the cool mist on his skin. When the breeze died down and he breathed in deeply, he scented traces of Aria. She was in Vale’s room now, inside the house. Laughter drifted through the crack in the roof beside him. The Six were playing a game of dice. He could hear Twig and Gren’s usual banter. Auds both, they talked constantly, always arguing, competing over everything.

Lamps flickered around the compound and smoke drifted from chimneys, mingling with the salt air. This late in the night, only a few people were still about. Perry lay back, watching the Aether light sift down through the thinner patches in the clouds and listening to the volley of their voices across the clearing.

“How’s the baby’s fever?” Molly asked someone.

“Dropping, thank the sky,” came the answer. “He’s sleeping now.”

“Good, let him rest. I’ll bring him down to the sea in the morning. It’ll open up his lungs.”

Perry inhaled, letting the ocean air open his own lungs. He’d grown up under the care of many, much like the baby they spoke of. As a child, he’d crawled up into the nearest lap to sleep. When he’d had fever or a cut that needed stitches, Molly had nursed him back to health. The Tides were a small tribe, but they were also a big family.

Perry wondered where Cinder was but knew he’d come back on his own, just as Roar had said. When Perry saw him, he’d lay into Cinder for running off, and then he’d find out what happened in the cookhouse.

“Perry!”

He sat up in time to catch a wadded blanket, tossed from below.

“Thanks, Molly.”

“Don’t know why you’re up there, and they’re all warm in your house,” she said, and bustled away.

But Molly did know. There were few secrets in a tribe this small. Everyone knew about his nightmares. Up here, at least, he could pass the sleepless time by reading scents on the breeze and watching the play of light through the clouds. Such a strange spring, with a thick blanket of clouds always above. Much as he feared the Aether, part of him would have felt better if he could see it now.

Brooke fell in step with him as he left the compound at dawn, her bow and quiver over her shoulder. “Where you heading?”

“Same place you are,” he said. She was a Seer, and one of the best archers in the tribe, so Perry had given her the task of teaching everyone in the Tides how to shoot a bow. Her lessons were near the same field where he was meeting Bear.

Their walk was awkward and quiet. He noticed she still wore one of his arrowheads on a strip of leather around her neck, and he tried not to think of the day he gave it to her, or what it had meant to both of them. He cared about her, and that would never change. But it was over between them. He’d told her so over the winter, as gently as he could, and hoped soon she’d see it too.

As they reached the eastern field, he found an argument already nearing a boil: two farmers, Rowan and Gray, who wanted more help in the fields than Perry could give them. Bear stood between them, massive, yet gentle as a kitten.

“Look at this,” said Rowan, the young farmer whose child had had fever the night before. He lifted a boot sopping with mud. “I need a retaining wall. Something to stop the debris from coming down the hill. And I need more drainage.”

Perry’s gaze moved to the hillside half a mile away. Aether storms had wiped the lower portion to nothing more than ash. When the spring rains started, waves of mud and debris flowed down the slope. The whole shape of the hill was changing without the trees there to hold the earth fast.

“This is nothing,” Gray said. He stood a full head shorter than Perry and Bear. “Half my land’s underwater. I need people. I need use of the ox. And I need them both more than he does.”

Gray had a kind face and a mild manner, but Perry often scented wrath from him. Gray didn’t have a Sense—he was Unmarked, like most people—but he despised that. As a young man, he’d wanted to be a sentry or a guard, but those posts went to Auds and Seers, whose Senses gave them a clear advantage. His choices limited, Gray had been left to farming.

Perry had heard all this from Gray and Rowan before, but he needed the resources they wanted—manpower, horses, oxen—for more important tasks. Perry had ordered defense trenches constructed around the compound and a second well plumbed by the cookhouse. He was having the walls fortified and their cache of weapons bolstered. And he’d ordered every Tider—from six to sixty years old—to learn at least the basic use of both a bow and a knife.

At nineteen, Perry was young for a Blood Lord. He knew he’d be seen as inexperienced. An easy mark. He was sure the Tides would be raided in the spring by roving bands and tribes who’d lost their homes to the Aether.

As Gray’s and Rowan’s pleas continued, Perry arched his back, feeling his poor night of sleep. Had he become Blood Lord for this? To trudge through sopping fields so he could listen to bickering? Nearby, Brooke gave Gray’s boys, seven and nine years old, their archery lesson. Far more entertaining than listening to squabbling.

He had never wanted this part of being Blood Lord. He’d never thought about how to feed nearly four hundred people when the winter stores were gone, before the spring yield arrived. He’d never imagined warranting the marriage of a couple older than he was. Or having the eyes of a mother with a feverish child on him, searching for the answer. When Molly’s cures failed, they turned to him. They always turned to him when things went wrong.

Bear’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “What do you say, Perry?”

“You both need help. I know that. But you’re going to have to wait.”

“I’m a farmer, Perry. I need to do what I know,” said Rowan. He waved a hand toward Brooke. “I got no business shooting a bow when I have this to deal with.”

“Learn it anyway,” Perry said. “It could save your life, and more.”

“Vale never had us do that, and we were fine.”

Perry shook his head. He couldn’t believe his ears. “Things are different now, Rowan.”

Gray stepped forward. “We’ll starve next winter if we don’t seed soon.”

The tone in his voice—sure and demanding—streaked Perry. “We may not be here next winter.”

Rowan balked, his eyebrows drawing together. “Where will we be?” he said, his voice rising in pitch. He and Gray exchanged a look.

“You’re not really serious about moving us to the Still Blue?” said Gray.

“We may not have a choice,” Perry said. He remembered his brother ordering these same men, with no arguments. No convincing. When Vale had spoken, they had obeyed.

Brooke walked over, brushing sweat from her brow. “Perry, what’s wrong?” she asked.

He realized he’d been pinching the bridge of his nose. A burning sensation spiked deep in his sinuses. He looked up, a curse slipping through his lips.

The clouds had broken apart at last. High above, he saw the Aether. It didn’t run in lazy, glowing currents, as was normal for this time of year. Instead, thick rivers flowed above him, glaring and bright. In some places the Aether coiled like snakes, forming funnels, which would strike at the earth and unleash fire.

“That’s a winter sky,” Rowan said, his voice filled with confusion.

“Dad, what’s going on?” asked one of Gray’s sons.

Perry knew exactly what was going on. He couldn’t deny what he saw—or the burn in the back of his nose.

“Get home now!” he told them, then sprinted to the compound. Where would the storm hit? West, over the sea? Or directly on them? He heard the blast of a signal horn, and then others farther away, alerting farmers to take shelter. He had to reach the fishermen, who’d be harder to alert and bring in safely.

He shot through the main gate of the compound, into the clearing. People rushed to their homes, shouting at one another in panic. He scanned their faces.

Roar ran up. “What do you need?”

“Find Aria.”

6

ARIA

The rain began suddenly, carrying on a gust that hit Aria like a cold slap. She sprinted back to the compound on the trail she’d been wandering all morning, lost in thoughts of Realms that suddenly glitched and froze. Her knives drummed a reassuring rhythm against her thighs as she followed the path through the woods, the wind whipping around her.

At the sound of a horn, she skidded to a halt and looked up. Through the gaps in the rain clouds she saw thick flows of Aether. Seconds later she heard the distinctive shriek of a funnel—a ripping, high-pitched peal that sent ice through her veins. A storm now? The storms should’ve already ended for the year.

She ran again, picking up her pace. Months ago, she’d been right under a storm with Perry. She’d never forget the burn across her skin when the funnels struck close, or how her body had seized.

“River!” called a far-off voice. “Where are you?”

She froze and listened for sounds through the hissing rain. More voices. Everyone yelling the same thing, their shouts of distress sharp to her ears. She squeezed her numb hands into fists. Who was she to help? The Tides hated her. But then another voice called out—closer this time—the sound so desperate and fearful that she moved without thinking. She knew how it felt to search for someone who was gone. They might not accept her help, but she had to try.

She jogged off the trail onto thick, slippery mud, sounds guiding her to a dozen people scanning the woods. Her knees locked when she recognized Brooke.

“What are you doing here, Mole?” Soaked, Brooke looked crueler than usual. Her blond hair lay dark and slick against her skull, her eyes cold as marbles. “You took him, didn’t you, child snatcher?”

Aria shook her head. “No! Why would I do that?” Her eyes moved to the weapon over Brooke’s shoulder.

Molly, the older woman Aria had met in the cookhouse, rushed over. “You’re wasting time, Brooke. Keep looking!” She waited until Brooke moved on. Then she took Aria by the arm and spoke low and close, as rain rolled down her full cheeks. “We didn’t see this coming. None of us expected a storm.”

“Who’s missing?” Aria asked.

“My grandson. He’s barely two years old. His name is River.”

Aria nodded. “I’ll find him.”

The others were working away from the trail, heading deeper into the woods, but Aria’s gut told her to search nearby. Moving slowly, she kept close to the path. She didn’t call out. Instead she strained to hear the slightest sounds through the wind and the rain. Time passed with nothing but the slosh of her footsteps and the rush of water pouring downhill. The shrieks of the Aether grew louder, and her head began to pound, the noise of the storm overwhelming her ears. A humming sound stopped her in her tracks.

She moved toward it, slipping as she crept down the slope. Aria crouched before a leafy shrub. Slowly she pushed the branches aside and saw nothing but leaves. The skin on the back of her neck prickled. Whirling, she drew her knives. She found herself alone with the swaying trees.

“Relax,” she muttered to herself, sheathing her blades.

She heard the humming again, faint but unmistakable. She rounded the shrub and peered inside.

A pair of eyes blinked at her less than a foot away. The boy looked so small, sitting on his knees. He had his hands pressed over his ears, and he hummed a melody, lost in his own world. She noticed he had his grandmother’s round cheeks and honey-colored eyes. She looked over her shoulder. From where she knelt, Aria could see the trail back to the compound, no more than twenty paces off. He wasn’t lost—he was terrified.

“Hi, River,” she said, smiling. “I’m Aria. I bet you’re an Aud, like me. Singing helps keep out the sound of the Aether, doesn’t it?”

He stared right at her and kept humming.

“That’s a good song. It’s the Hunter’s Song, right?” she asked, though she’d recognized it immediately as Perry’s favorite. He’d sung it to her once in the fall, after much convincing, his face red with embarrassment.

River went silent. His lower lip wobbled like he was about to cry.

“My ears hurt too when it’s this loud.” Aria remembered her Aud cap and reached into her satchel. “Do you want to wear this?”

River’s hands curled into pudgy fists. He slowly drew them away from his ears and nodded. She pulled the cap over his head and tugged the earflaps down, tying them under his chin. It was far too big for him, but it would buffer the noise of the storm.

“We need to get inside, all right? I’m going to get you home safe.”

She held out her hand to help him out. He took it, and then sprang into her arms, wrapping around her ribs as snug as a vest. Holding his shaking little body close, Aria hurried, looking for Molly and the others along the trail. They came on her in a mob—soaked and enraged.

“Don’t touch him!” hissed Brooke, tearing River away. Cold rushed over Aria’s chest, and her balance faltered at the sudden absence of his weight. Brooke snatched the cap off his head and tossed it in the mud.

“Stay away from him!” she yelled. “Don’t ever touch him again.”

“I was bringing him back!” Aria shouted, but Brooke was already dashing for the compound with River, who’d begun to wail. The others filed after Brooke, some casting accusing looks at Aria, like it was her fault River had gotten lost.

“How did you find him, Dweller?” asked a stocky man who’d stayed behind. Suspicion lurked in his eyes. Two boys Aria guessed to be his sons stood nearby, shoulders hunched and teeth chattering.

“She’s an Aud, Gray,” Molly said, appearing at her side. “Now, go on. Get your boys inside.”

With a final look at Aria, the man left, hurrying for shelter with his sons.

Aria picked up her Aud cap and brushed off the mud. “Brooke’s not related to you, is she?”

Molly shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “No. She’s not.”

Aria shoved her cap back into her satchel. “Good.”

As they hurried back to the compound together, she noticed that Molly was hobbling.

“It’s my joints,” Molly explained, raising her voice to be heard. The shrill sounds of the Aether funnels were growing louder. “They hurt worse when it’s cold and rainy.”

“Here, take my arm,” Aria said. She supported the older woman’s weight. Together, they moved more quickly toward the compound.

Minutes passed before Molly spoke again. “Thank you. For finding River.”

“You’re welcome.” Even with her body numb to the bone and her ears ringing, Aria felt oddly content to walk alongside a friend. Her first among the Tides, after Flea.

7

PEREGRINE

Perry left Roar and took the trail to the harbor faster than he had in his life, sprinting until he reached the dock. There, Wylan and Gren called to each other as they tied off a fishing skiff, their clothes flapping in the wind. The vessel struck the dock in the choppy water, shaking the planks beneath Perry’s feet. His heart seized when he saw only two skiffs. Most of his fishermen were still at sea.

“How close are the others?” Perry yelled.

Wylan shot him a dark look. “You’re the Seer, aren’t you?”

Perry ran along the shore to the rock jetty that reached out like a great arm, protecting the harbor. He leaped onto the tumbled granite, then lunged from one huge boulder to the next. Geysers of seawater shot up through the gaps, soaking his legs. At the top of the jetty, he stopped and scanned the open ocean. Huge waves rolled and pitched, capped with white spray. A terrifying sight, but he also saw what he’d hoped to. Five skiffs approached the harbor, bobbing like corks in the brutal waters.

“Perry, stop!” Reef worked his way over the boulders. Gren and Wylan followed, both with lengths of rope across their shoulders.

“They’re coming in!” Perry shouted. Who was left out there? The spray blurred everything. Even with his vision, he couldn’t see the fishermen until the first boat drew close, moving past the jetty. Perry glimpsed the terrified looks on the men whose lives he’d sworn to protect. They weren’t safe yet, but the seas weren’t as rough inside the harbor as out in the open water. When the second and third boats reached the harbor, he came closer to breathing again. Closer to knowing he hadn’t lost anyone.

And then the fourth skiff came in, leaving only one more at sea. Perry waited, cursing when he saw it clearly. Willow and her grandfather sat, white-faced, gripping the mast. Between them, ears pinned back, crouched Flea.

Perry leaped down the ocean side of the jetty, drawing closer to the breaking waves just as flashes burst across the horizon, freezing the moment in glaring light. The storm had broken. Funnels dropped at sea, scoring brilliant blue lines down the cloud-darkened sky. They were miles away, but he tensed on instinct and slipped, grazing his shin.

“Perry, get back here!” Reef yelled. Waves pummeled the rocks around them, a violent assault that came from every direction.

“Not yet!” Perry barely heard himself over the thundering surf.

Willow’s skiff had broken off its course. It streamed right toward the jetty. She yelled something, cupping her hands around her mouth.

Gren appeared, balancing beside Perry. “They’ve lost the rudder. They can’t steer.”

Perry knew exactly what was going to happen, and the others did too.

“Abandon ship!” Wylan yelled nearby. “Get out!”

Old Will had already pulled Willow to her feet. He took her face in his hands, issuing a frantic message Perry couldn’t hear. Then he embraced her hastily and helped her jump off the bow into the waves. Flea leaped in right after her, and then Old Will jumped last, his expression surprisingly calm.

Seconds passed in an instant. The swell caught the skiff, pushing it into a current. The boat came fishtailing, turning backward at the last moment, so the stern smashed against the rocks just ten paces away from Perry. It folded, splintering, sending pieces flying. His arms came up, shielding himself, debris and ocean spray pelting his forearms.

He blinked hard, clearing his eyes, and spotted Willow moving right toward the mix of broken wood and white water.

“Get a line out now!” Reef shouted.

Close by, Wylan threw a rope in the perfect cast of a born fisherman. Without the rope, Willow would smash against the rocks over and again, churning in the froth. With it, they had a chance of pulling her in safely.

“Willow, grab the line!” Perry yelled.

He watched her search for her grandfather, her movements jerky and frantic, and then saw her terror as she spotted Old Will farther out. A wave washed over her, and Perry’s heart stopped. Willow surfaced, coughing up water and gasping for air. She swam frantically for the rope and finally grasped it.

Perry drew as low on the rocks as he dared, strength gathering in his legs as he prepared to grab her.

When the surf surged, Wylan and Gren pulled the rope. Willow came slicing toward Perry like an arrow. She knocked him back as he caught her, her forehead cracking against his chin. Pain burst across his ribs as he fell against the rocks. He held her for an instant before Reef swept her from his arms.

“Get out of there, Peregrine!” he yelled, carrying Willow higher on the jetty.

Perry didn’t answer this time. He couldn’t leave until they had Old Will.

Wylan threw another line. It dropped near Old Will, but the fisherman struggled, swimming in place with his head tipped up, barely above the water.

“Move, Will! Swim!” Perry yelled.

Funnels lashed down, closer now, and waves that had been five and six feet high minutes ago doubled into monstrous surges that spilled over the jetty.

“Grandpa!” Willow screamed suddenly, like she knew. Like she’d had some sense of what would come next.

Old Will disappeared beneath the water.

Perry covered the distance between him and Wylan in four leaps. He grabbed hold of the rope. Behind him, Gren’s and Reef’s voices boomed, “No!” just as he pushed off the rocks and dove.

The quiet beneath the water shocked him. Perry took up slack on the rope, firming his grip, and kicked away from the jetty. His foot struck something hard—a board? A rock?—as he came up. Waves rose in huge, rolling walls around him. He could only see water until a swell lifted him out of the trough. His stomach lurched as he rose up, and then he was at the crest, able to see the rocks where he’d just stood. Only seconds, and he was nowhere near where he thought he’d be.

Perry swam toward where he’d last seen Old Will. The current was brutally strong, pulling him back toward the jetty. He spotted movement in the water. Flea paddled twenty yards off. Nearby, Old Will thrashed in place, his silvery hair blending with the whipped sea foam.

The fisherman’s skin was ghastly white when Perry reached him. “Hang on, Will!” Perry tied the rope around him. “Go!” he yelled toward shore, waving his arms.

Seconds passed before the fibers of the rope stretched taut beneath his hands. He was pulled forward, but barely. Another tug and he couldn’t deny that together they were too heavy for Wylan. He caught another glimpse of the jetty, seeing the dark granite boulders flash white for an instant. The Aether storm was closing on them.

Perry let go of the rope, and Old Will surged away from him. He swam after, demanding more from his tired muscles. Every stroke felt like he was lifting his own weight. He could hear Reef’s and Gren’s shouts as he neared the jetty. He pushed himself. Peered up through whipping spray. A few more yards.

A sudden current gripped him like a hook, pulling him away, back toward the open water. Just as suddenly, the tide shifted, and he saw the jetty closing fast. He covered his head and pulled his legs up. His feet struck hard; then he whipped sideways and crashed into the rocks.

Pain speared through him. Spine cracking. Everywhere. The ache solidified in his right shoulder. He reached up, not recognizing his own shape. His shoulder jutted the wrong way, dislodged from the socket.

This couldn’t be happening. He swam with his good arm and begged more from his legs, but every movement sent stabbing pain across his shoulder. Through the crashing surf, he caught another glimpse of the jetty. Bear and Wylan pulled the rope hand over hand, bringing in Old Will. Willow and Flea stood nearby, shaking and soaked. Reef and Gren perched on the rocks, yelling for him, ready to hoist him out of the water. Perry kicked harder, but his legs wouldn’t answer. Wouldn’t move the way he wanted them to. He was coughing up seawater and couldn’t catch his breath.

There was only one way out of this. He stopped swimming and plunged underwater. He grabbed his wrist and took an instant to shore up his resolve. Then he pulled it across his body. Spots of red burst before his eyes. It felt like he was ripping his own muscles, the pain an explosion inside his shoulder, but the joint wouldn’t spring back into place. He let go of his arm. Couldn’t try again. Was sure he’d pass out if he did.

He pushed up, cutting through the churning water, his breath running out. He kicked harder, searching for the surface. Searching.

Searching.

Suddenly he couldn’t tell which way was up. Fear threatened to overtake him, but he forced himself to swim with calm strokes. Panic would mean the end. Long seconds later, his lungs screaming for oxygen, panic came anyway, and he felt himself thrashing wildly in the water, his body moving beyond his control.

He knew he couldn’t breathe. That he wouldn’t draw in air. No matter how he fought against it, he couldn’t stop himself. The ache in his lungs and his head was bigger than the pain in his shoulder. Bigger than anything.

He opened his mouth and inhaled. An explosion of cold shot down his throat. In the next instant, he pushed it back out. The bright red bursts came back, and his chest convulsed, pulling, pushing. Needing, rejecting.

He slipped down into colder water, where it grew darker and quieter and darker still. He felt his limbs relax, then an aching sorrow spread through him, replacing the pain.

Aria. He’d just gotten her back. Didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to hurt her. Didn’t want—

Something slammed into his throat. The Blood Lord chain … strangling him. He grasped for it, and then he realized someone was above, tugging him upward. The chain loosened, but now he felt an arm around his chest, and he was moving, being towed.

He broke the surface and retched seawater, convulsing with his entire being. He felt a rope being tied around his ribs, and then Gren and Wylan were hauling him up to the rocks while someone pushed him from behind. It could only be Reef.

Bear grabbed for his arm, cursing as he almost slid into the water.

“Shoulder!” Perry gritted through his teeth.

Bear understood, wrapping his arm around Perry’s waist and carrying him beyond the reach of the crashing waves. Perry kept going after he was set down. He clambered across the jetty, desperate, until he reached sand. Then he sank and folded around the pain in his gut—in his shoulder—in his throat. His lungs felt like they’d been beaten blue.

A circle formed around him, but he kept coughing, struggling to find his breath. Finally he swiped the saltwater from his eyes.

Shame hit him hard. He was on his back, broken in front of his people.

Gren shook his head, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. Old Will stood with Willow tucked into his side. Reef’s chest heaved, the scar across his cheek bright red. Above, the Aether turned in massive, vengeful wheels.

“His arm’s out of its socket,” Bear said.

“Pull it up and then across,” Reef said. “Slow and firm, and don’t stop, no matter what. And be quick about it. We need to get inside.”

Perry shut his eyes. Huge hands closed over his wrist; then he heard Bear’s deep voice above him. “You won’t like this, Perry.”

He didn’t.

Body shaking with nerves and cold, Perry climbed up to his loft, clutching his arm to his side. Awkwardly, hissing at the ache in his shoulder, he pulled his sopping shirt over his head and flung it across the room below. It landed with a splat on the fireplace mantel, hanging there. He lay back and drew breath after breath into his battered lungs as he watched the Aether through the open sliver in the roof. Rain dripped through it, tapping on his chest. Rolling to the mattress beneath him.

Just a few minutes. He needed some time alone before he had to face the tribe.

He closed his eyes. All he could see was Vale, making speeches. Vale, sitting at the head table of the cookhouse, calmly overseeing everything. His brother had never so much as tripped in front of the Tides. And what had Perry just done?

It was the right thing, going after Old Will. So why couldn’t he slow down his breathing? Why did he feel like punching something?

The door swung open, banging against the stone wall with a crack and letting in a cold gust.

“Perry?” someone said from below.

Perry winced in disappointment. It wasn’t the voice he wanted to hear. The only one he’d listen to right now. Had Roar found her?

“Not now, Cinder.” Perry listened for the sound of the door closing. Seconds passed with nothing. He tried again more forcefully. “Cinder, go.”

“I wanted to explain about what happened.”

Perry sat up. Cinder stood below, soaking wet. He was holding his black cap in his hands. He looked determined and calm.

“You want to talk now?” Perry heard his father’s angry tone in his own voice. He knew he should stop himself, but he couldn’t. “You show up when you want to, and run when you don’t? Which is it going to be? If you’re staying, I’d appreciate you not burning our food.”

“I was trying to help—”

“You want to help?” Perry jumped down from the loft, muffling a curse as pain lanced through his arm. He strode up to Cinder, who stared up at him with wide, piercing eyes. He waved toward the open door. “Then why don’t you do something about that?”

Cinder glanced outside, then back at him. “That’s why you want me here? You think I can stop the Aether?”

Perry caught himself suddenly. He wasn’t thinking straight. Didn’t know what he was saying. He shook his head. “No. That’s not why.”

“Forget it!” Cinder backed away, moving toward the door. The veins at his neck had begun to glow blue, like the Aether. It seeped like branches beneath his skin, spreading up over his jaw, across his cheeks and his forehead.

Perry had seen him this way twice—on the day Cinder had burned his hand, and when he’d laid waste to a tribe of Croven—but it stunned him again.

“I never should have trusted you!” Cinder yelled.

“Wait,” Perry said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

It was too late. Cinder spun, and shot outside.

8

ARIA

Roar ran up a short while later, as Aria approached the compound with Molly. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said, wrapping Aria in a quick hug. “You made me worry.”

“Sorry about that, pretty.”

“You should be. I hate worrying.” He clutched Molly’s free arm, and together they pulled her as quickly as she could manage to the cookhouse.

Inside, the tribe was packed together, crowding at the tables and along the walls. Molly left to check on River, and Roar went to see Bear. Aria spotted Twig, the lanky Aud who’d been with her on the journey there. She slid onto the bench beside him and scanned the buzzing hall. People were in a panic over the storm, talking over one another in brittle voices, their faces tight with fear.

She wasn’t surprised to see Brooke a few tables over with Wylan, the fisherman with dark, shifty eyes who’d cursed her under his breath at Perry’s house. She saw Willow nestled between her parents, with Old Will and Flea nearby, and the rest of the Six, who never strayed far from Perry’s side. As her gaze moved from one person to the next, a sense of dread rolled through her, making her fingertips tingle. She didn’t see Perry.

Roar walked over and dropped a blanket over her shoulders. He edged Twig aside and sat beside her.

“Where is he?” she asked plainly, too anxious for caution.

“At his house. Bear said he knocked his shoulder out of joint. He’s fine.” Roar’s dark eyes flicked to her. “But it was close.”

Aria’s stomach clenched. Her ears latched onto Perry’s name drifting across the tables in a wave of whispers. She sifted through the din and grabbed onto Wylan’s spiteful tone, her eyes finding him again. A group of people had gathered around him.

“… he jumped in like an idiot. Reef had to fish him out. Almost didn’t get to him in time, either.”

“I heard he saved Old Will,” someone else said.

Wylan’s voice again. “Old Will wouldn’t have drowned! He knows the sea better than any of us. I was gonna get him on the line on my next cast. Right now I’d feel better if Flea were wearing that damned chain.”

Aria touched Roar’s arm. Do you hear Wylan? He’s horrible.

Roar nodded. “He’s all bluster. You’re the only one who’s actually listening to him, trust me.”

Aria wasn’t sure about that. She wove her hands together, her leg bouncing beneath the table. Both the hearths blazed, warming the hall. It smelled of damp wool and mud, and the sweat of too many bodies. People had brought treasured belongings from their homes. She saw a doll. A quilt. Baskets packed with smaller items. An image appeared in her mind of the falcon carvings on the sill in Perry’s house. Then of Perry, there alone. She should be with him.

Aether funnels struck outside, their distant shrieks carrying to her ears. Faint tremors vibrated up through the soles of her boots. She wondered if Cinder was out in the storm, but she knew that—of anyone—he’d be safe under the Aether.

“Do we just sit here?” she asked.

Roar ran a hand over his wet hair, making it spike. He nodded. “A storm this close, this is the safest place to be.”

At Marron’s, the storms hadn’t been nearly as frightening. Everyone in the compound retreated deep underground to the old mining caves of Delphi. There Marron had provisions at the ready. Even diversions, like music and games.

Another deep rumble thrummed through the floorboards. Aria looked up as dust shook loose from the rafters, sprinkling the table in front of her. In the cooking area, pots rattled softly. Nearby, Willow hugged Flea, her eyes shut tight. Aria hardly heard anyone talking now.

She reached for Roar again. You need to do something. They’re petrified.

Roar lifted an eyebrow. “I do?”

Yes, you. Perry’s not here, and I can’t. I’m a Mole, remember? No, wait. I’m a Mole tramp.

Roar stared at her, seeming to weigh his options. “All right. But you owe me.” He crossed the room to a young man with a cobra tattoo that wove around his neck, and nodded to the guitar leaning against the wall. “Can I borrow that?”

After a moment of surprise, the young man handed over the instrument. Roar returned and sat up on the table, propping his feet on the long bench. He began testing the strings, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he adjusted the tension. He was meticulous, as she would’ve been. They both heard in perfect pitch. Anything less would’ve grated on their nerves.

“So,” he said, satisfied. “What are we singing?”

“What do you mean we, Roar? You’re doing it.”

He smiled. “But it’s a duet.” He played the opening notes to a song by her favorite band, Tilted Green Bottles. Over the winter he couldn’t get enough of the song. “Arctic Kitten,” a ballad, was supposed to be sung overly romantically, which made the lyrics more ridiculous than they already were.

Roar had the romantic part down. He strummed the first riffs, his dark brown eyes intent on her, his lips pulled in a subtle, seductive smile. He was joking, but it was almost enough to make her blush. Aria felt the attention of everyone on them now.

When he sang, his voice was smooth and rich with humor. “Come thaw my frozen heart, my little arctic kitten.”

Unable to resist, Aria jumped in and picked up the next line. “No chance, my yeti man, I’d rather be frostbitten.”

“Let me be your snowman. Come live in my igloo.”

“I’d rather freeze to death than hibernate with you.”

Aria couldn’t believe they were singing such a stupid song to people who were wet and scared stiff—who had Aether funnels pounding down around them. Roar bought into it fully, his hands beating a cheerful rhythm out of the strings. She forced herself to match his enthusiasm as they kept on, back and forth.

She expected the Tides to throw mugs or shoes at her at any moment. Instead she heard a muffled snort, and then, from the corner of her eye, she caught a few smiles. When they sang the chorus together—which involved some melodic purring—a few people laughed openly, and she finally relaxed, letting herself enjoy something she did well. Very well. She’d been singing all her life. Nothing felt more natural.

After Roar plucked the last notes, there was a beat of perfect silence before the sounds of the storm filtered back in and the chatter of the hall returned. Aria peered at the faces around her, picking up snatches of conversation.

“Barmiest song I’ve heard in all my life.”

“Funny, though.”

“What’s a yeti?”

“I’ve got no idea, but the Mole sings like an angel.”

“I heard she was the one who found River.”

“You think she’ll sing something else?”

Roar bumped his shoulder into hers. He raised an eyebrow. “So? Will she sing again?”

Aria straightened her back and filled her lungs. They thought “Arctic Kitten” was something special? They hadn’t heard anything yet.

She smiled. “Yes. She will.”

9

PEREGRINE

For the first time in months, no one noticed Perry as he stepped into the cookhouse. All eyes were fixed on Aria and Roar. He pulled himself into the shadows and leaned against the wall, gritting his teeth at the pain that shot down his arm.

Roar sat on top of one of the trestle tables at the center of the hall, playing a guitar. Beside him, Aria sang, with a relaxed smile on her lips and her head tipped to the side. Her black hair hung in wet strands that spilled over her shoulder.

Perry didn’t recognize the song, but he could tell she and Roar had sung it before by the way they were in pitch sometimes and sometimes apart, twining like birds in flight. He wasn’t surprised to see them singing together. Growing up, Roar had always turned unlikely things into songs to make Liv laugh. Sounds connected Roar and Aria, just as scents connected Scires. But another part of him couldn’t stand seeing them having fun, right after he’d almost drowned.

Across the hall, Reef and Gren saw him and came over, drawing Aria’s attention. Her voice broke off, and she gave Perry an uncertain smile. Roar’s hands stilled over the guitar, an anxious look crossing his face. The entire hall noticed Perry now, a stir sweeping across the crowded tables.

His pulse picked up, and he felt his cheeks warm. He had no doubt they knew what had happened at the jetty. That everyone knew. Perry saw the disappointment and worry in their expressions. Scented it in the rancy tempers that filled the hall. The Tides had always called him rash. His dive after Old Will would only reinforce that.

He crossed his arms, pain stabbing deep in his shoulder socket. “No need to stop.” He hated the hoarseness of his voice, raw after coughing and retching seawater. “Will you sing another?”

Aria answered right away, never taking her eyes off him. “Yes.”

She sang a song he knew this time—one she’d sung to him when they’d been at Marron’s together. It was a message from her. A reminder—here among hundreds of people—of a moment that had been theirs alone.

He let his head rest against the wall. Closed his eyes as he listened, pushing back the urge to go to her. To bring her close. He imagined her fitting right beneath his shoulder. Imagined the aches fading, along with the shame of having been fished out of the sea, mangled before his tribe. He imagined until it was just the two of them, alone on a rooftop again.

Hours later, Perry rose from his spot in the cookhouse. He stretched his back and rolled his shoulder, testing it. He swallowed, and confirmed that every part of him still hurt.

Morning sunlight filtered through the open doors and windows, falling in golden shafts across the hall. People lay everywhere—in piles along the walls, beneath tables, in the aisles. The quiet seemed impossible for such a large crowd. His gaze went to Aria for the thousandth time. She slept by Willow, Flea curled into a ball between them.

Roar woke, rubbing his eyes, and then Reef climbed to his feet nearby, pushing his braids back. The rest of the Six stirred to life, sensing Perry needed them. Twig nudged Gren, who shoved back while still half-asleep. Hyde and Hayden rose, sweeping their bows across their backs in unison and abandoning Straggler, who was still pulling on his boots. Quietly they moved past the sleeping tribe and followed Perry outside.

Apart from the puddles and branches, and the broken roof tiles scattered across the clearing, the compound looked the same. Perry scanned the hills. He didn’t see any fires, but the pungent stench of smoke hung in the damp air. He’d lost more land, he was certain. He only hoped it wasn’t more farmland or pasture, and that the rain had contained the damage.

Straggler pushed his way forward and wrinkled his nose, looking up. “Did I dream that last night?”

The Aether flowed calmly, blue sheets between wispy clouds. A normal spring sky. No blanket of glowing clouds. No spools of Aether churning above.

“Was the dream about Brooke?” Gren said. “Because then the answer is yes. And me too.”

Straggler shoved him in the shoulder. “Idiot. She’s Perry’s girl.”

Gren shook his head. “Sorry, Per. I didn’t know.”

Perry cleared his throat. “It’s all right. She’s not anymore.”

“Enough, both of you,” Reef said, glaring at Strag and Gren. “Where do you want us to start, Perry?”

More people filed out of the cookhouse. Gray and Wylan. Rowan, Molly, and Bear. As they looked around the compound and up to the sky, Perry saw the worried looks on their faces. Were they safe now, or would they see another storm soon? Was this the beginning of Aether year-round? He knew the questions were on all their minds.

Perry got them moving through the compound first, assessing damage to roofs, checking the livestock in the stables, and then working out to the fields. He sent Willow and Flea in search of Cinder, regretting last night. He’d been out of his mind, and he needed to find Cinder to apologize. Then he headed northwest with Roar. An hour later they stood before a smoldering field.

“This won’t help,” Roar said.

“It’s hunting land only. Not the best we had.”

“That’s sunny of you, Per.”

Perry nodded. “Thanks. I’m trying.”

Roar’s gaze moved to the edge of the field. “Look, here comes cheerfulness himself.”

Perry spotted Reef and smiled. Only Roar could entertain him at a time like this.

Reef gave him a report of the rest of the damage. They’d lost forestland to the south, adjacent to areas leveled by fires they’d had over the winter. “It just looks like a bigger stretch of ashes now,” Reef said. Every last one of the Tides’ beehives had been destroyed, and the water from both of the wells at the compound had been tainted and now tasted like ash.

With Reef’s report finished, Perry couldn’t avoid what had happened at the jetty any longer. Roar was spinning his knife in his hand, a trick he did when he grew bored. Perry knew he could say anything in front of him, but he still had to force his next words out.

“You saved my life, Reef. I owe you—”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Reef interrupted. “An oath is an oath. Something you could stand to learn.”

Roar slid the knife back into the sheath at his belt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Reef ignored him. “You swore to protect the Tides.”

Perry shook his head. Wasn’t Old Will part of the tribe? “That’s what I did.”

“No. What you did is almost got yourself killed.”

“Should I have let him drown?”

“Yes,” Reef said sharply. “Or let me go in after him.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Because it was suicidal! Try and understand something, Peregrine. Your life is worth more than an old man’s. More than mine, too. You can’t just go diving in like you did.”

Roar laughed. “You don’t know him at all, do you?”

Reef spun, pointing a finger at him. “You should be trying to talk some sense into him.”

“I’m waiting to see if you’ll ever shut up,” Roar said.

Perry shot between them, pushing Reef back. “Go.” The fury in Reef’s temper shimmered red at the edge of his vision. “Take a walk. Cool off.”

Perry watched him stride away. Beside him, Roar cursed under his breath.

If this was happening between the two people most loyal to him, what was going on with the rest of the Tides?

On the way back, Perry spotted Cinder at the edge of the woods. He was waiting by the trail, fidgeting with his cap.

Roar rolled his eyes as soon he saw him. “See you later, Per. I’ve had enough,” he said, jogging off.

Cinder was toeing the grass as Perry walked up.

“I’m glad you came back,” Perry said.

“Are you?” Cinder said bitterly, without looking up.

Perry didn’t bother replying. He crossed his arms, noticing that his shoulder felt better than it had that morning. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It won’t happen again.”

Cinder shrugged. After a few moments, he finally looked up. “Is your shoulder …?”

“It’s fine,” Perry said.

“I didn’t know about what happened when I came to see you. The girl—Willow—she told me this morning. She was real scared. For herself and her grandfather. And for you.”

“I was scared too,” Perry said. It almost seemed unbelievable to him now. A day ago he’d been underwater, seconds away from dying. “It wasn’t my best day. I’m still here, though, so it wasn’t the worst.”

Cinder flashed a smile. “Right.”

With Cinder’s temper finally settling, Perry saw his opportunity. “What happened in the storeroom?”

“I just got hungry.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“I don’t like eating during supper. I don’t know anybody.”

“You spent the winter with Roar,” Perry said.

“Roar only cares about you and Aria.”

And Liv, Perry thought. It was true that Roar had few loyalties, but they were unbreakable. “So you snuck into the storeroom.”

Cinder nodded. “It was dark in there, and so quiet. Then all of a sudden I saw this beast with yellow eyes. It scared me so bad I dropped the lamp I was holding, and next thing I knew there was fire burning across the floor. I tried to put it out, but I was only making it worse, so I ran.”

Perry was stuck on the first part of the story. “You saw a beast?”

“Well, I thought so. But it was just the stupid dog, Flea. In the dark he looks like a demon.”

Perry’s mouth twitched. “You saw Flea.”

“It’s not funny,” Cinder said, but he was fighting a smile too.

“So Flea, the demon dog, scared you, and the lamp was what made that fire? It wasn’t … what you do with the Aether?”

Cinder shook his head. “No.”

Perry waited for him to say more. There were a hundred things he wanted to know about Cinder’s ability. About who he was. But Cinder would speak when he was ready.

“Are you going to make me leave?”

“No,” Perry said immediately. “I want you here. But if you’re going to be part of things, you need to be a part of all of it. You can’t run off whenever something goes wrong, or take food in the middle of the night. And you need to earn your way like everyone else.”

“I don’t know how,” Cinder said.

“How to what?”

“Earn my way. I don’t know how to do anything.”

Perry studied him. He didn’t know how to do anything? It wasn’t the first time Cinder had said something peculiar like that.

“Then we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. I’ll have Brooke get you a bow and start you on lessons. And I’ll talk to Bear tomorrow. He needs all the help he can get. One last thing, Cinder. When you’re ready, I want to hear everything you have to say.”

Cinder frowned. “Everything I have to say about what?”

“You,” Perry said.

10

ARIA

You have a good way with pain,” Molly said.

Aria looked up from the bandage in her hand. “Thank you. Butter is a good patient.”

The mare blinked lazily in response to her name. Last night’s storm had triggered her flight instinct. Butter had kicked her stall in panic and suffered a gash along her front leg. To help Molly, whose hands were bothering her, Aria had already cleaned the wound and applied an antiseptic paste that smelled like mint.

Aria resumed rolling the bandage around Butter’s leg. “My mother was a doctor. A researcher, actually. She didn’t work with people often. Or with horses … ever.”

Molly scratched the white star at Butter’s forelock with fingers as gnarled as roots. Aria couldn’t help but think of Reverie, where ailments like arthritis had been cured through genetics long ago. She wished there were something she could do.

“Was?” Molly said, peering down.

“Yes … she died five months ago.”

Molly nodded thoughtfully, watching her with warm, soulful eyes the same color as Butter’s chestnut hair. “And now you’re here, away from your home.”

Aria looked around, seeing mud and straw everywhere. The smell of manure hung in the air. Her hands were cold and reeking of horse and mint. Butter, for the tenth time, nuzzled the top of her hair. This couldn’t have been more different from Reverie. “I’m here. But I don’t know where home is anymore.”

“What of your father?”

“He was an Aud.” Aria shrugged. “That’s all I know.”

She waited for Molly to say something fantastic, like, I know exactly who your father is, and he’s right over here, hiding behind this stall. She shook her head at her own silliness. Would that even help? Would finding her father take away the airy, gossamer feeling inside her?

“Shame to not have family at your Marking Ceremony tonight,” Molly said.

“Tonight?” Aria asked, glancing up. She was surprised Perry had scheduled it, right in the aftermath of the storm.

Butter gave an irritated snort as Wylan walked into the stable.

“Look at this. Molly and the Mole,” he said, leaning back against the stall. “You put on a good show last night, Dweller.”

“What do you need, Wylan?” Molly asked.

He ignored her, his focus locked on Aria. “You’re wasting your time going north, Dweller. The Still Blue’s nothing more than a rumor spread by desperate people. Better watch yourself, though. Sable’s a mean bastard. Cunning as a fox. He’s not sharing the Still Blue with anyone, let alone a Mole. He hates Moles.”

Aria stood. “How do you know that—from rumors spread by desperate people?”

Wylan stepped closer. “As a matter of fact, yes. They say it goes back to the Unity. Sable’s ancestors were Chosen. They were called into one of the Pods, but they were double-crossed and left outside.”

In school, Aria had studied the history of the Unity, the period after the massive solar flare that had corroded the earth’s protective magnetosphere, spreading Aether across the globe. The devastation in the first years had been catastrophic. The polarity of the Earth had reversed over and over again. The world was consumed by fires. Floods. Riots. Disease. Governments had rushed to build the Pods as the Aether storms intensified, striking constantly. Other, scientists had called the alien atmosphere when it first appeared, because it defied scientific explanation—an electromagnetic field of unknown chemical composition that behaved and looked like water, and struck with a potency never seen before. The term evolved to Aether, a word borrowed from ancient philosophers who’d spoken of a similar element.

Aria had seen footage of smiling families, walking through Pods just like Reverie, admiring their new homes. She’d seen their ecstatic expressions when they’d first worn Smarteyes and experienced the Realms. But she’d never seen footage of what had happened outside. Until a few a months ago, Aether was something other to her—as foreign as the world beyond the safety of Reverie’s walls.

“You’re saying Sable hates Dwellers because of something that happened three hundred years ago?” she said. “Everyone couldn’t fit in the Pods. The Lottery was the only way they could make it fair.”

Wylan snorted. “It wasn’t fair. People were left to die, Mole. You really believe in fairness when the world is ending?”

Aria hesitated. She’d seen the survival instinct enough times now, and she’d felt it herself. A force that had pushed her to kill—something she’d never thought she’d do. She remembered Hess tossing her out of the Pod to die in order to protect Soren, his son. She could imagine that in the Unity, fairness wouldn’t have counted for much. What had happened wasn’t fair, she realized, but she still believed in it. Believed that fairness was something worth fighting for.

“Did you come here to be a nuisance, Wylan?” Molly asked.

Wylan licked his lips. “I was just trying to warn the Mole—”

“Thanks,” Aria interrupted. “I’ll make sure not to ask Sable about his great-great-great-great-grandparents.”

He left with a greasy, curling smile. Molly went back to scratching the mare’s white star. “I like her, Butter. How about you?”

Late in the afternoon, Aria went to Perry’s house, wanting a few minutes alone before the Marking Ceremony. Vale’s room—where she’d spent her first night—was much tidier than the rest of the house. A red blanket lay across the foot of the bed, and there was a chest and a dresser, but nothing more. She’d never met Perry’s brother, but she sensed his presence in the room. The intensity she imagined he’d possessed left her feeling uneasy.

She grabbed Perry’s turtle-falcon from the sill in the other room and set it on the nightstand, smiling at the simple solution. Then she changed into a white undershirt with thin straps, sat on the edge of the bed, and looked at her arms. In some ways, getting Markings would feel like an acceptance—an official one—of herself as an Outsider. As an Audile. As her father’s daughter. Had he broken her mother’s heart? Or had they been torn apart for another reason? Would she ever know the answer?

Outside, people gathered in the clearing. Their animated voices drifted in through the window. A drum pounded a deep heartbeat rhythm. She’d been at the Tide compound two nights now. On the first, she’d provided the tribe with a source of gossip. Last night, she’d entertained them. What would tonight bring?

Aria found her Smarteye in her satchel and held it in her palm. She wished she could use it to reach her friends. What would Caleb think of her getting Markings?

The front door opened and then closed with a solid clunk. Aria stuffed her Smarteye back into her satchel and rose from the bed, listening to the floorboards creak as someone approached. Perry appeared at the door, his green eyes intent and serious. They stood looking at each other, his expression growing softer, her pulse pounding harder.

Perry’s gaze moved to the figurine on the nightstand, honing in on the small change in the room. “I’ll put it back,” she said.

He stepped inside and picked it up. “No. Keep it. It’s yours.”

“Thank you.” Aria glanced through the door behind him, to the other room. She felt that strange and unsettling distance between them again—the glass wall keeping them apart, in case someone came into the house.

He set the falcon down and nodded to her satchel. “I thought we’d leave tomorrow at first light.”

“Are you sure you should leave? I mean, after what happened?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said sharply. Perry winced. Then he let out a slow breath and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. Reef’s been … Never mind. Sorry.”

The shadows beneath his eyes seemed darker, and his broad shoulders had a tired slant.

“Did you sleep at all?” she asked.

“No … I can’t.”

“You mean you couldn’t?”

“No.” His smile was faint and humorless. “I mean I can’t.”

“How long?” she asked.

“Since I slept a full night?” He lifted his shoulders. “Since Vale.”

She couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t slept a decent night in months?

“Aria, this room—” Perry stopped abruptly. He turned and pulled the door shut behind him. Then he leaned against it, hanging his thumbs on his belt, and watched her, waiting, like he expected her to object.

She should have. She’d heard snatches of gossip all day. The Tides were unsettled by the storm, and by what had almost happened to Perry. She didn’t want to add to that. She could just imagine Wylan or Brooke calling her the Mole tramp who had seduced their Blood Lord. But she didn’t care about any of that now. She just wanted to be with him.

“This room?” she said, prompting him.

He relaxed against the door, but his eyes were intent, shining like the chain around his neck. Night was falling outside, and murky blue light seeped through the half-open shutter.

“Was my father’s,” he said, picking up where he’d left off. “He was hardly ever here, though. He left before dawn and spent the day in the fields or at the harbor. Sometimes, when he could, he’d go hunting. He liked to keep moving. I guess it’s one way we’re alike.

“At supper, he talked with the tribe. He was careful, always, to give equal time to everyone. I liked that he did that.... It was something Vale never did. Afterward, he’d come home with us, and he wasn’t Jodan the Blood Lord anymore. He was ours. He’d listen to us, and read to us, and we’d wrestle and play around.” His lips pulled up in a crooked smile. “He was huge. Tall as I am, but strong as an ox. Even with the three of us trying, we could never bring him down.” His smile faded. “But then there were other times … the times he’d show up here with a bottle.” He tipped his head. “You know some of this already.”

Aria nodded. She could hardly breathe. Perry’s father had blamed him for his mother’s death during childbirth. Perry had only spoken of it once to her, with tears in his eyes. Now she stood in the very house where he’d been beaten for something that wasn’t his fault.

“On those nights, usually he’d be yelling within the first hour. It got worse from there. Vale hid in the loft. Liv crawled under the table. I bore it. And that was how it went. Everyone knew, but no one did anything. When I was broken and blue, they accepted it. I accepted it. I told myself there was no better way. We needed him as Blood Lord. And he was the only parent we had. Without him, we wouldn’t have had anything.”

She knew too well how that felt. Every day since her mother had died, she’d struggled with the idea that she didn’t have anything.

Perry shook his head. “Maybe this won’t make sense, but I feel like the Aether’s the same way. We think we need this … this land. This house. This room.... But it’s not the right way to live. We lost acres last night to fires, and a man I’ve known my entire life almost died. I almost did.”

She closed the space between them in a shot and took his hands, holding on as tight as she could. As tight as she would have if she’d been at the jetty. He let out a slow breath, staring into her eyes, his grip just as tight as hers.

“We lose and lose, but we’re still here. Shaking in place, afraid of doing something. I’m tired of settling for this because I don’t know if something better exists. It has to. What point is there otherwise? I can do something about it now. And I will.”

He blinked, the intensity in his eyes vanishing as he shifted back to the present. He laughed at himself. “That was a lot. Anyway …” He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re pretty quiet.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him. “Because there isn’t a word for how perfect that was.”

Perry tucked her closer, his shoulders molding around her. They clung to each other, his chest solid and warm against hers. After a moment, he bent by her ear and whispered, “Was it champ?”

It was a word from her world, and she could tell he was smiling.

“Very. It was very champ.” She drew back and stared into his eyes. As much as he kept to himself, he cared so deeply for others. He was a force. He was good. “You amaze me.”

“I don’t know why. You’re getting Talon back. And you’re helping your people. It’s no different from what I’m doing.”

“It’s different. Hess is—”

He shook his head. “You’d be doing all the same things even if he weren’t blackmailing you. Maybe you’re not sure about that, but I am.” His hand brushed past her cheek and slid into her hair. “We’re the same, Aria.”

“That’s the best thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

He smiled and leaned down, kissing her softly, tenderly. She knew she should step away. This was a risk, but she didn’t care about anything except him just then. She wove her arms around his neck and parted his lips with hers, stealing a taste of him. Tenderness could wait for another time.

Perry went still for an instant; then he cinched her close, momentum sending them thudding into the door behind him. He sank against it, bringing himself closer to her height, kissing her with a sudden urgency. With a hunger that she matched. His lips moved to her neck and trailed up to her ear, and the world fell away. She gasped and dug her fingers into his shoulders, pulling him closer—

His shoulder.

She remembered, and her hands relaxed. “Which shoulder was it, Perry?”

A grin spread over his lips. “Right now I have no idea.”

His eyes were heavy with desire, but she saw something else. A gleam that made her suspicious.

“What?” she asked.

His hands slid to her hips. “You’re incredible.”

“That’s not what you were thinking.”

“Was so. I always think that.” He leaned in, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger as he kissed her bottom lip. “But I was also wondering what you were doing around Butter today.”

Aria laughed. That was attractive. She smelled like horse. “Do you ever miss anything?”

Perry smiled. “You, all the time.”

11

PEREGRINE

Perry drew the blade across his palm, slicing his skin. Making a fist over the small copper pot on the table, he let a few drops of his blood fall.

“On my blood as Lord of the Tides, I recognize you as an Audile and warrant that you should be Marked.”

Perry didn’t recognize the sound of his own voice—sure and formal—or the words he spoke, which had always belonged to Vale or his father. He lifted his gaze and scanned the crowded hall. Against Reef’s advice, he’d ordered all the regular trappings of a Marking Ceremony. Incense at each table put off fragrant cedar smoke to represent Scires. Torches and candles blazed, washing the cookhouse in light to honor the Seers. For the Auds, drummers beat a steady rhythm at the far end. Unlike last night’s cold and wet and fear, now the hall was filled with the comfort of tradition. He’d been right to do this. The Tides needed it as much as he and Aria did.

Aria stood just a few paces in front of him. She’d pulled her black hair up, and her neck looked slender and delicate. Her cheeks were flushed pink, whether from nerves or the heat of the hall, Perry wasn’t sure.

Did she think this ritual was savage? Did she want Markings, or were they just a necessity to get the location of the Still Blue? He hadn’t had the chance to ask earlier, and now it was too late. He couldn’t tell how she felt. With the cedar and smoke and hundreds of people, her scent was lost to him.

Perry handed the knife to Roar, who gave the blade a quick, showy twirl before he swore his own oath, recognizing Aria as an Audile. As one of his own. “May sounds guide you home,” he finished, adding his blood to the pot.

The tattoo ink would be added next. When Aria received her Markings, she’d receive part of him and Roar as well, their blood sealing their promises to shelter and protect her should she ever be in need. The ceremony would end with him and Roar making that oath to her. Perry couldn’t wait. He already felt that way, and he wanted her to know.

“Bear will do the Markings now,” he said. For years it had been Mila’s role. His sister-in-law had done the falcon on his back and both of his Markings—Scire and Seer. Molly was his next choice, but her hands were bothering her. The only other person left who’d ever done them was Bear.

Perry stood a moment longer, fighting the urge to kiss Aria’s cheek. Much as he wanted to be open about them to the tribe, a show of his feelings seemed wrong now. With a final glance at the flawless skin along her arms, he headed for the head table at the rear of the hall. The Markings would take hours, and he didn’t want to hover. Getting inked wasn’t terrible, but he knew any discomfort she felt would pain him.

He took Vale’s old seat at the head table on a platform at the end of the hall. With Roar and Cinder at his sides and the Six filling in around them, he felt too much like the Blood Lord his brother had been, one for ceremony and appearances. But tonight was for ceremony.

Across the table, a stringy-haired man smiled, showing more gaps than teeth. “Well, well … what a sight you are, Peregrine.”

The trader, who’d arrived earlier in the afternoon, came around every spring selling trinkets. Coins, spoons, rings, and bangles hung from his necklaces and coat, messy as seaweed. They had to weigh as much as he did. But the goods were just a cover for his real trade—gossip.

Perry nodded. “Shade.” With the Marking underway and time to kill, this was a good opportunity to learn news before he left with Aria tomorrow morning.

“You’ve grown into such a shining young lord,” Shade said. He lingered over the word, drawing the sound from it like he was sucking marrow from a bone. From the corner of his eye, Perry caught the grin that spread across Roar’s face. Perry was already looking forward to hearing his best friend’s imitation.

“How much you resemble your brother and your father,” Shade continued. “He was a great man, Jodan.”

Perry shook his head. His father, a great man? Maybe to some. Maybe in some ways.

He glanced toward the hearth. Bear sat at a table with Aria. With a piece of willow charcoal, he drew the Audile’s curving lines on her bicep, preparing to ink them into her skin. Aria stared at the fire, her gaze distant. Perry exhaled through his teeth, not sure why he was worried. He’d seen Markings done a dozen times.

“On with it, Shade,” he said. “Let’s have your news.”

“It seems patience is missing from your formidable list of virtues,” Shade said.

“True,” Perry said. “I lack restraint as well.”

A smile spread over the gossipmonger’s face. One of his front teeth sat sideways, like an open door. “So I understand. You know, I admire you tremendously, and I’m not alone. News of your challenge has spread far and wide. How very difficult it must have been to spill your brother’s blood. Few men have the strength to commit such a merciless—pardon me—such a selfless act. All done for your nephew, I heard. A dear child, Talon. Dear, dear boy. Word says you took down a band of sixty Croven as well. Such a young lord, and yet you’re making quite a mark, Peregrine of the Tides.”

Perry had the urge to cuff him, but Reef moved first, setting his foot on the bench next to Shade with a solid thunk. He leaned over the ratty man. “I could speed this up.”

Shade winced, his gaze traveling to Reef’s scar. “No—no need. Forgive me. I meant no offense. Your time must be so precious, especially with the storm last night. You’re not the only one seeing the Aether this late, you know. The southern territories are suffering. Fires burn everywhere, and the borderlands are crawling with dispersed. The Rose and Night tribes were both forced from their compounds. Word says they’ve joined together and gone in search of a stronghold.”

Perry looked to Reef, who nodded, their thoughts aligning. The Rose and the Night were two of the largest tribes anywhere, each numbering in the thousands. The Tides barely reached four hundred in number, and that included children. Infants. Elderly. Perry had been preparing the Tides for raids, but against those odds, they wouldn’t have a chance.

He drew an unsatisfying breath, warm and heavy with scents. This far back in the hall, the air festered. “Any sign where they’re going?”

“No.” Shade smiled. “No sign of that.”

Perry looked over the sea of heads, finding Aria again. Bear took a thin copper rod from the wooden box with the Marking supplies. He held it over a candle, heating the fine tip. In moments he would jab it into Aria’s skin to form her Marking. Used the wrong way, the instrument could be lethal. Perry shook his head, pushing away the thought.

“What else?” he asked. Nausea had begun a steady creep up his throat, and a bead of sweat ran down his spine. “What of the Still Blue?”

“Ahh … much talk of the Blue out there, Peregrine. Tribes are striking out in search of it. Some going south, across the Shield Valley. Some east, beyond Mount Arrow. The Quince tribe took to the north, beyond the Horns, and came back with nothing more than empty stomachs. Lots of talk, see, but none of it sticks.”

“I hear Sable knows where it is,” Perry said.

Shade shrank back, his clothes jingling. “He says so, yes, but I’m no Scire, like you are, Peregrine. I can’t know if he speaks the truth. If he does know, he’s not telling a soul about it. Word says there’s a boy who can control the Aether—you might want to know that. Such a child would be worth something in a time like this.”

Perry kept still despite the jolt to his pulse. How much did Shade know? From the corner of his eye, he saw Cinder pull his hat down. “That’s not possible.”

“Yes, well … it is hard to believe.” Shade seemed disappointed to not have drawn any interest, because his next bit of information came readily. “The thaw came early to the north this spring. The pass to Rim is clear. You can go see Olivia now.”

Liv. Perry was caught off guard by the mention of his sister. “She didn’t go to the Horns. She never made it there.”

Shade lifted his eyebrows. “Didn’t she?”

Perry froze. “What do you know about Liv?”

“More than you, it seems.” Shade smiled. He seemed pleased to have information to bargain with now. But he hadn’t counted on Roar.

Perry turned in time to see his friend leap over the table in a dark blur. There was a sudden loud tumble and a rattling of spoons and rings and trinkets. Reef and Gren drew their knives, and then everything stopped. Perry climbed over the table to see Roar pinning Shade.

“Where is she?” Roar hissed, pressing his blade to Shade’s throat.

“She went to the Horns. That’s all I know!” Shade looked at Perry, terrified. “Tell him, Scire! It’s the truth. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

The hall grew quiet as all eyes turned to the commotion. Perry’s legs felt unsteady as he climbed down. He brought Roar to his feet and caught his friend’s temper, a searing scarlet color.

“Walk.” He pushed Roar toward the door. Air. They both needed air before they dealt with Shade. He didn’t need bloodshed tonight.

“Sable found her.” Roar’s eyes darted everywhere as Perry shepherded him across the hall. “He had to have. The bastard tracked her down and hauled her back. I have to go there. I need—”

“Outside, Roar.”

They left a wake of questioning stares as they made their way across the hall. Perry focused on the door, imagining the cool night air outside.

Roar stopped and turned so abruptly that Perry almost crashed into him. “Perry … look.”

He followed Roar’s gaze to Aria. Bear drove the rod into her arm in quick, short stabs, Marking her with the ink. Aria was sweating, and her hair clung to her neck. She looked over, meeting his eyes. Something was wrong.

He was in front of her in a heartbeat. Seeing him, Bear startled and yanked the rod back. A line of blood dribbled down Aria’s arm. Too much blood. Far too much. Part of the Marking was done, the flowing lines of the Aud tattoo reaching halfway across her bicep. The skin around the inked skin was red and swollen.

“What is this?” Perry demanded.

“She has thin skin,” Bear said defensively. “I’m doing it the way I know.”

Aria’s face was ghostly pale, and she was slumping. “I can handle it,” she said weakly. She wouldn’t look at him. She kept her gaze on the fire.

Perry’s eyes locked on the inkpot just as he smelled something off. He picked up the small copper bowl and brought it to his nose. He inhaled. Beneath the ink he caught a musty, mousy odor.

Hemlock.

For an instant, his mind couldn’t fit the information together. Then it hit him.

Poison.

The ink was poisoned.

The copper pot clacked against the hearth before he realized he’d thrown it. Ink splattered across the mantel, the wall, the floor.

“What did you do?” Perry yelled. The drums stopped. Everything stopped.

Bear’s eyes darted from the rod to Aria’s arm. “What do you mean?”

Aria pitched forward. Perry dropped to his knees, catching her just before she toppled off the bench. Her skin burned beneath his hands, and her entire weight lay against him, heavy and limp. This couldn’t be happening. He didn’t know what to do. Couldn’t make a decision. Nausea and fear coursed through his body, freezing him to the spot.

He picked her up, pulling her into his arms. Next thing he knew, he was in his house. He barreled into Vale’s room and set her on the bed. Then he yanked his belt off, his knife falling to the floor with a clunk. Perry tied the belt above her bicep, cinching it tight. He had to stop the poison from flowing to her heart.

Then he took her face in his hands. “Aria?” Her pupils were so dilated that he could hardly see the gray of her irises.

“I can’t see you, Perry,” she murmured.

“I’m right here. Right beside you.” He knelt by the bed and took her hand. If he held on tight enough, she’d be fine. She had to be. “You’re going to be all right.”

Roar appeared, setting a lamp on the bedside table. “Molly’s on her way. She’s getting what she needs.”

Perry stared at Aria’s arm. The veins around her Marking looked corded and deep purple. With every second that passed, her face grew paler. He ran a shaking hand over her forehead and thought of the medical facility at Marron’s. He had nothing here. Never in his life had he felt primitive until now.

“Perry,” she breathed.

He squeezed her hand. “Right here, Aria. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right—”

Her eyes drifted closed, and he was plunged deep underwater again, in the cold darkness, where there was no up. No air to draw into his lungs.

“She’s still breathing,” Roar said behind him. “I hear her. She’s just unconscious.”

Molly arrived, carrying a jar with a chalky white paste used for poison rashes.

“That won’t work,” Perry snapped. “It’s inside her skin.”

“I know,” Molly said calmly. “I hadn’t seen the wound yet.”

“What do we do? Should I cut the skin off?” The words had hardly left Perry when his stomach seized.

Roar’s hand came down to his knife. “I can do it, Perry.”

He looked at Roar, who was blinking fast, ashen, and couldn’t believe they were talking about cutting into Aria’s arm.

“That won’t help,” Molly said. “It’s already in her bloodstream.” She set another glass jar on the nightstand. Leeches cut swiftly through the water, agitated and eager. “These might, if they take to the spoiled blood.”

He fought off another wave of nausea. A belt around her arm. Leeches. Was this the best he could do for her? “Do it. Try them.”

Molly plucked a writhing leech from the jar and placed it over Aria’s Marking. When it latched onto her skin, Roar let out a loud exhale, but Perry still couldn’t breathe. Molly took another leech from the jar, and on it went, every second an eternity, until six leeches clung from Aria’s arm. On perfect skin he’d run his fingers across just hours ago.

Perry shifted his grip on her hand, threading their fingers together. Aria’s hand tightened, just a faint twitch before it relaxed again. Wherever she was in the unconscious, she was telling him she’d fight.

He watched the leeches grow dark purple, filling with blood. They had to be working. They had to be drawing the poison out of her. Then he couldn’t watch anymore. He put his head down on the bed, his knees aching from kneeling, and felt the passing of time in snatches. From the room outside, Bear’s deep voice, swearing his innocence. Then Cinder, pleading desperately with Reef to let him in. Silence. Then Molly shifting nearby, pulling the blanket over Aria and resting her hand briefly on his head. And silence again.

Finally, Perry looked up. Though Aria still hadn’t stirred, he sensed her returning. He stood, swaying in place, his legs stiff. Relief coursed through him, blurring his eyes, but it was overshadowed quickly.

He looked at Roar, who held his knife by the blade.

“Go,” Roar said, handing it over. “I’ll stay with her.”

Perry took it and strode to the cookhouse.

12

ARIA

Aria fractioned to a vast dome, feeling weak and dizzy. Sterile white rows stretched back hundreds of feet. Vegetables and fruits sprouted from them—ordered, perfect bursts of color.

Her heart began to pound. This was Ag 6—one of the farming domes in Reverie. She’d been here before in search of information about her mother. Soren had attacked her not far from where she now stood.

Paisley had died here.

Aria’s gaze traveled up. High above, black smoke hissed from the irrigation pipes, tumbling down and pooling around her. She tried to run for the airlock door. Her legs wouldn’t move.

A voice broke the silence. “You can’t get out, remember?”

Soren. She didn’t see him, but she recognized his taunting voice. “Where are you?” The smoke reached her, stinging her eyes and making her cough, but she couldn’t see anyone else in the dome.

“Where are you, Aria?”

“You can’t hurt me in here, Soren.”

“You mean in a Realm? Is that what you think this is? And you’re wrong. I can hurt you.”

A wave of dizziness sent her stumbling. Her knees buckled, and she went down, grabbing her head. Why was her head pounding? What was wrong with her?

A burning pressure grew stronger and stronger at her bicep. She looked down. Smoke poured out of her skin, seeping into the air. There was fire inside her. Her blood was burning. She yanked and tore at her skin, but invisible hands trapped her.

“Enough, Molly! Get them off her arm!”

It was Roar’s voice, but where was he?

Soren’s muscular form appeared above her. “You won’t get away this time.”

She struggled to tear her arms free. She needed to fight him, but she couldn’t break loose. “I’m not afraid of you!”

“You sure about that?” He darted for her, grabbing her around the waist.

“It’s me, Aria! It’s all right. It’s me.”

Roar’s voice. Soren’s face. Soren’s hands wrapped around her.

Aria struggled against his grip. She didn’t know what to be afraid of. She had no idea what was real, or why her blood felt like boiling water in her veins. She fell back against the farming rows, kicking, fighting, as her vision turned gray and then black.

13

PEREGRINE

Perry entered the cookhouse and found Wylan standing on a table, facing a small crowd. It was late—only a few stray lamps were lit across the shadowed hall—and most of the tribe had gone to their homes for the night.

“He’s a hothead; that’s all he’s ever been,” Wylan said. “He’s with the Dweller. He was keeping that from us. Now he says he’s going north for the Still Blue, but don’t believe that, either. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never comes back!”

“I’m back,” Perry said. He felt cold. Completely focused. As sharp as the knife in his hand.

Wylan whirled and nearly fell off the table. Around Perry, people gasped, their eyes dropping to the blade at his side.

Bear put up his hands. “I had no idea, Perry. I didn’t. I would never do—”

“I know.” Bear’s temper proved his innocence. He’d been just as shocked as Perry had been earlier. Perry inhaled deeply, slashes of blue edging his vision. “Who was it?” He searched the faces around him.

No one answered.

“Do you think silence will protect you?” He walked past Rowan and Old Will, moving through the crowd, pumping air into his lungs. Inhaling.

Sifting.

Searching.

“Do you have any idea how loud guilt is to me?”

He caught it: the rancid reek of fear. He grabbed the scent like a line and followed it. The tribe recoiled, terrified, stumbling into benches and tables. All except Gray, who stood fixed as a tree. Perry’s vision tunneled, focusing only on him. On the farmer, who shook his head, his face pulled taut with terror.

“She’s a Mole! She’s not even one of us! She has no right to be Marked!”

Perry lunged, slamming into Gray. They fell together, knocking into people and crashing into the floor. Someone kicked his hand, and the knife tore from his fingers. Hands fell on his shoulders, but they didn’t stop him. He was pure intent. Pure focused power—all the fear inside him releasing through his fist
one—
two—
three times before Reef and Bear wrenched him away. Perry fought his way back, cursing, struggling. He’d heard bones crack, but it wasn’t enough. Not enough, because Gray was still alive. Still moving on the floor.

Bear lifted him off his feet, throwing him backward. “Stop! He’s got sons.”

Perry crashed into a table. Reef appeared in front of him, jamming a forearm into his neck, stunning him. “Look at me, Peregrine!”

He forced himself to meet Reef’s eyes.

“Let him disperse,” Reef said. “Let him go.”

Perry’s gaze went to the two boys, standing in the crowd. Yesterday in the fields they’d been laughing, taking shots with Brooke’s bow. Now they stood pressed together, crying.

Reef stepped back, releasing him.

Gray lay on his side a few feet away. Dark blood streamed from his nose and pooled on the floorboards.

“Pick him up,” Perry said. Hyde and Straggler hauled him off the floor and held him upright. Gray couldn’t stand on his own. “Why?” Perry asked. “Why did you do it?”

“She doesn’t deserve Markings! She’s not even one of us. I am.”

“Not anymore,” Perry said. “You lost that right. Be off my land by tomorrow morning.”

As Hyde and Strag dragged Gray away, Perry put his head down and spit out the warm pool of blood in his mouth. He’d taken a punch at some point. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of Shade’s messy, jangling coat. The gossipmonger had scored a victory tonight.

“You’re a liar, Peregrine.”

Perry looked up and followed the bitter voice until he found Wylan, buried in the crowd. “You want to come here and say that, Wylan?”

“If I do, will you beat me, too?” Wylan shook his head. “You’re worse than Vale,” he said under his breath, and left.

Twig shoved Wylan as he passed by. A cheap shot—surprising for someone as honorable as Twig. Perry’s gaze moved across the hall. Hayden braced nearby, and Gren had his knife in his hand. Reef scanned the crowd, a warrior assessing the enemy.

They weren’t the enemy. These were his people. Perry looked around the hall, scenting pity and fear and rage.

Finally, Reef spoke. “Go on, all of you. It’s over,” he said.

But Perry knew he was wrong.

14

ARIA

Searing pain in Aria’s arm woke her. She blinked in the darkness. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth, and her head pounded so intensely she was afraid to move. She was on the bed in Vale’s room. Aether light seeped through a small crack between the shutters, blue and cool, like the glow of a full moon.

She looked down, moving her head slowly. A strip of cloth was tied tightly around her bicep. She knew the dark stains on it were blood. Her hand shook wildly as she reached up and touched it. She felt scalded. Not just along her skin but deep inside her veins.

She remembered the ceremony. Bear prodding her arm with the rod, and the terrible sting she’d felt spreading into her muscle. Then the fading of sounds, of voices and drums, and a tilting, tilting hall.

She’d been poisoned.

She pressed her eyes closed. It was so unbelievably medieval that she’d laugh if she could, but then rage and fear collided inside of her. The shaking in her hands spread to the rest of her body as the reality of what had happened sank in. She didn’t know how she could feel so cold with her blood burning, searing inside her veins. Rolling onto her side, she tucked into a ball and squeezed every muscle tight as chills shook her.

Who had done this? Brooke? Wylan? Was it Molly? Could it have been the one person she’d begun to trust here? Aria remembered the night she’d sung with Roar in the cookhouse. So many people had smiled at her then. Had they smiled while she’d been poisoned, too?

She licked her dry lips. The bitterness she tasted—was that poison? Her eye caught on the falcon figurine sitting on the nightstand, its small, blunt lines painted blue with Aether. She stared at it as sleep came and swept her away.

When she woke again, someone had lit a candle by the bedside. She squinted, the brightness of the flame hurting her eyes. Perry was speaking in the next room, his voice hoarse and anxious. Her pulse immediately picked up.

“I knew something was wrong,” he said. “I felt sick in there. But I didn’t know it was because of her.”

Reef responded with no trace of surprise. “You’re rendered to her.” Aria heard the creak of a floorboard and then his soft curse. “I thought you might be. I’ve been praying I was wrong.”

Aria stared at the door, struggling to understand. Perry had rendered to her?

“You think that’s the last time her tempers are going to affect you?” Reef said. “Because it won’t be. You’re rendered to a girl no one wants around. I can’t think of anything worse than that. She’s clouding your judgment—”

“She’s not—”

“She is, Perry. She can’t stay. You have to see that. And after what you just did, the Tides sure as hell won’t accept her now. You just chose her over one of them.”

“That’s not what I did. I can’t allow murder under my nose, no matter who’s involved.”

“Of course not,” Reef said, “but people see what they want to see. They’ll come after her again, or worse, they’ll come after you. And don’t tell me you’re going north. The Tides need you here.”

She waited for Perry to disagree. He didn’t.

A moment later the door opened, and he walked in, his fingers pressed to his eyes. He looked up, freezing when he saw her awake. Then he shut the door and came to the bed. He took her hand, his green eyes filling with tears.

“Aria … I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. There’s no way for me to tell you how sorry I am.”

She shook her head. “Not you. Not your fault.” She couldn’t find the strength to talk. A red bruise spread over one side of his jaw, and his lower lip was swollen. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

It did matter. He was hurt because of her. It mattered.

“What time is it?” She had no idea if an hour had passed. A day. A week. Every time she woke, it was dark in the room. Night outside. That was all she knew.

“Almost dawn.”

“Have you slept?” she asked.

Perry lifted his eyebrows. “Sleep?” He shook his head. “No … haven’t even tried.”

She was too tired. Too weak to say what she wanted. Then she realized it would only take one word. She patted the bed. “You.”

He lay down, gathering her close. Aria slumped against him, turning her ear to his chest. She listened to his heartbeat—a good, solid sound—as the warmth of his body melted into her. She’d been in a fog earlier. Hallucinating and searching for what was real. She found it in him. He was real.

“We’re together now,” he whispered against her forehead. “The way we should be.”

She closed her eyes and relaxed her breathing, seeking calm. He was rendered to her. Maybe he’d feel it too. “Sleep, Perry.”

“I will,” he said. “With you right here, I will.”

15

PEREGRINE

Perry, wake up!”

Perry’s eyes flew open. He was in Vale’s room. He’d never spent a night there in his life. Aria slept soundly, pressed against his chest. He tightened his arms around her as the scents of sweat and blood brought last night crashing back.

Roar stood at the door. “You better come outside. Now.”

Taking care not to wake her, Perry slipped from the bed and followed Roar outside.

He found the entire tribe in the clearing—a crowd of hundreds. People were crying, yelling insults at each other. On the roof of the cookhouse he saw Hyde and Hayden with their bows nocked, ready to fire. Reef appeared at Perry’s side with his knife drawn, Twig a second later.

“What’s going on?” Cinder asked.

Perry didn’t know. Didn’t understand until Gray came through the crowd.

His face was so swollen it was nearly unrecognizable. He carried a heavy bag over his shoulder. “You chose wrong,” he said simply, and then walked out of the compound. His two sons followed, crying, wiping at their faces.

Then Wylan came forward with his own bag across his back. “You killed Vale for dealing with the Dwellers. How’s that any different from what you did?”

Perry shook his head. “Talon and Clara are gone because of what Vale did. He betrayed the tribe. I’ll never do that.”

“What was last night? I swear those were your fists on Gray’s face. You’re a fool, Peregrine. But we were bigger fools to think you could lead us.”

He spat in Perry’s direction and strode off. Wylan’s mother followed after him, staring straight ahead, her gait slow and uneven. Perry wanted to stop her. With a lame leg, she wouldn’t survive the borderlands for long.

Then Wylan’s cousin came through the crowd. A strong Aud of fourteen who Perry liked. One of Wylan’s uncles followed. And then the rest of his family.

They kept leaving, one after another. Ten, then twenty, and still more. So many that Perry began to imagine himself standing in an empty clearing. The idea filled him with giddy relief, gone in an instant. He was meant to be there. He was meant to lead the Tides.

When they finally stopped leaving and the clearing settled, he looked around, waiting a few moments to be sure he hadn’t imagined what had just happened. The crowd looked thinner, like it’d been pruned.

At least a quarter of his tribe was gone.

He looked at the faces of all the people loyal to him, who had stayed. Among them he saw Molly, Bear, and Brooke. Rowan and Old Will. He searched for the right words, wishing for Vale’s ease with speeches, but failed to find them.

He’d look weak if he thanked them for their loyalty, though he was grateful. And he wouldn’t apologize for what he’d done. This was his land. It was his duty to protect everyone there: Dweller, Outsider, or anything in between.

When the tribe—what was left of it—settled into their regular work, Perry met with Bear and Reef in the cookhouse. They sat at the table closest to the door and listed the names of everyone who had dispersed and the tasks they’d handled for the tribe. Bear wrote slowly—the pen looking like a piece of straw in his massive hands as he moved it over the page. Every name felt like a fresh betrayal.

Perry didn’t know how he’d gone wrong. Was it diving in after Old Will during the storm? Fighting Gray last night? Was it his plan to go north to find the Still Blue with Aria? Everything felt justified. Right. He didn’t understand how he’d failed them.

When they finished the tally, they sat in silence. Bear had written the names of sixty-two people, but the number didn’t tell the whole truth. As Perry had suspected, a large share were Marked. Even the Unmarked who’d dispersed were able-bodied, trained fighters. The young, old, and weak seldom left by choice.

Reef sighed, crossing his arms. “We culled the dissidents. I’m damned glad to be rid of a few of them. It’ll make us stronger in the long run.”

Bear set down the pen and ran a hand over his beard. “It’s the short run I’m worried about.”

Perry looked at him. What could he say? It was the truth. “We’ll be more open to attack once news of this spreads. Shade’s probably out there now, telling whoever he comes across what happened.”

“We should double the night watch,” Reef said.

Perry nodded. “Do it.” He looked across the hall. In two days, the Tides had seen a rogue Aether storm, an attempt on Aria’s life, and a rebellion. Was a raid next? He knew it would happen. Double the night guard or not, they were too vulnerable. It wouldn’t surprise him to see Wylan return to make a play for the compound.

The clearing felt too quiet and empty as Perry returned home. He was anxious to check on Aria. Was she well enough to go north? Reef’s words from last night echoed in his mind. The Tides need you here. How could he leave them now? How could he stay, when the answer to their safety might be out there?

He entered his house and found Gren and Twig yelling at each other in front of Vale’s bedroom. They quieted when they saw him.

“Per …,” Twig said, guilt flashing across his face. “We searched everywhere—”

Perry shoved past them, bursting into the room. He saw the bed. The rumpled blanket. He looked to the nightstand and didn’t see the falcon carving. Didn’t see Aria’s satchel. Didn’t see her.

“Roar’s gone too,” Twig said. He stood at the door with Gren, both of them watching him.

Cinder slipped between them, his hat dropping to the floor. “I saw them leave. They said to tell you they’d take care of Liv and the Still Blue.”

Perry stood, absorbing the truth, his ears roaring with the sound of rushing blood.

They had left without him, but he could track them. They’d only be hours ahead. If he ran, he’d catch up to them, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Reef shouldered his way inside. He looked around the room, cursing. “I’m sorry, Perry.”

Unexpected and sincere, the words snapped Perry out of his trance.

She was gone.

Pain edged in past the numbness. Perry pushed it back. Pushed with everything in him, until he’d buried it. Until he was back to numbness.

He walked to the door and picked up Cinder’s hat.

“You dropped this,” he said, handing it back.

Then he went outside and stepped into the clearing, heading nowhere.

16

ARIA

Here. Have some water.”

Aria shook her head, pushing away the water skin. She took breath after breath through pursed lips until the urge to vomit passed. The grass rolled in waves before her eyes. She blinked until it stopped. She didn’t know how she could feel worse than just hours ago, but she did. With poison still flowing through her veins, her body rebelled against every step.

“It’ll be all right soon,” Roar said. “It’ll leave your system.”

“He’s going to hate me.”

“He won’t.”

Aria straightened, keeping her arm tight to her side. They stood on a hill that overlooked the Tide Valley. More than anything, she wanted to see Perry striding toward her.

That morning, she’d woken to the tribe’s shouts in the clearing. The Tides were splintering. People were leaving, yelling at Perry. Yelling obscenities about her. She’d stepped out of Vale’s room, panicked to get out of there quickly, before Perry lost everything. She’d found Roar with his satchel packed. Liv was at the Horns. He was leaving, too. It’d been easy to escape unnoticed. With dozens of people streaming out of the compound, she and Roar had simply crept the other way.

She wished she could’ve seen Perry before she’d gone, but she knew him. He wouldn’t have let her leave without him. That decision would’ve cost him the Tides. She couldn’t let that happen.

“We should keep going, Roar.” If they didn’t keep moving, she’d change her mind.

She walked in a daze through the afternoon, her legs shaking, her arm burning beneath its bandage. This is for the best, she told herself over and over. Perry will understand.

At night they found shelter under an oak tree, a steady rain creating a blanket of quiet noise around them. Roar offered her food, but she couldn’t eat. Neither could he, she noticed.

He moved next to her. “Let me check that.”

Aria bit her lip as he took the bandage off her arm. The skin at her bicep was swollen and red, crusted with dried blood and smeared with ink. It bore the ugliest Marking she’d ever seen.

“Who did it?” she asked, her voice shaking with anger.

“A man named Gray. He’s Unmarked. He’s always been envious of us.”

A face appeared in Aria’s mind. Gray was the stocky man she’d seen in the woods during the Aether storm when she’d found River. “A Mole was getting Markings and he couldn’t bear it,” Aria said. “He couldn’t let that happen.”

Roar rubbed the back of his neck, nodding. “Yeah. I guess that’s about it.”

Aria touched the scabbed skin on her arm. “A half Marking for a half Outsider.” She’d meant to make light of it, but her voice wobbled.

Roar watched her in silence for a moment. “It’ll heal, Aria. We can have it finished.”

She pulled her sleeve down. “No … I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be Marked.”

She had no idea where she belonged. Out here? In Reverie? Hess had banished her in the fall, and now he was using her. The Tides had tried to kill her yesterday. She didn’t fit anywhere.

She scooted closer to the fire and lay down, pulling her blanket around her shoulders. She’d been cold all day, racked with chills. Time would help, she told herself. The poison would work itself out of her blood, and her skin would heal. She needed to focus on her goal now. She had to get north and find the Still Blue. For Perry and Talon. For herself.

As tired as she was, she couldn’t stop thinking of the way Perry had felt against her that morning, warm and safe. Was he sleeping on the roof tonight? Was he thinking about her? After an hour, she sat up, giving up on sleep. Though Roar’s eyes were closed, she could tell he wasn’t asleep either. His expression was too strained.

“Roar, what is it?”

He looked over, blinking tiredly at her. “He’s a brother to me … and I know how he’s feeling right now.”

Aria gasped as it struck her: by running away with no explanation, she’d done exactly to Perry what Liv had done to Roar. “It’s different … isn’t it? Perry will know I left to protect him—won’t he? You saw how many people left the Tides because of me. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t been there in the first place. I had to leave.”

Roar nodded. “It’s still going to hurt.”

Aria pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, keeping back the tears. Roar was right. When it came to pain, reasons didn’t matter. She took her hands away. “I did the right thing.” She wished she could convince herself.

“You did,” Roar agreed. “Perry needs to be there. He can’t leave now. The Tides can’t afford it.” He sighed, resting his head on his arm. “And you’re safer out here with me. I can’t watch you come that close to dying again.”

The rain had stopped when Roar woke her at dawn for another day of walking. They’d had a reprieve from the Aether after the storm, but now she saw thick streams of it running behind a scrim of gray clouds. The blue light filtering down gave the day an underwater quality.

“We’ll keep an eye on it,” Roar said, looking up beside her. They were traveling in the open. If another storm built, they’d need to find shelter in a hurry.

Apart from the soreness in her arm, Aria had recovered. They’d leave Perry’s territory behind soon, and she needed to be alert to danger. Every step took her closer to the city of Rim. To what she needed.

Late in the afternoon, she stood at the lip of a valley and looked south to the rolling hills stretching to the horizon. Last fall, she’d camped with Perry somewhere out there. She’d worn book covers for shoes. She’d lost her best friend. And she hadn’t known it yet, but she had lost her mother, too.

Aria reached into her satchel and found the falcon figurine. She’d grabbed it as she left Perry’s house, needing something real to remind her of him.

“I was there when he made that,” Roar said. He sat against a tree, watching her with bloodshot eyes.

“You were?”

Roar nodded. “Talon and Liv were there too. We were starting a collection for Talon, each of us making a different one for him. Liv nicked her finger barely five minutes in.” He smiled faintly, lost in the memory. “She’s a brute with the knife. No finesse at all. She and I quit after a few minutes, but Perry kept at it for Talon.”

Aria ran her thumb over the smooth surface. Every one of them, at one time, had held the falcon resting in her palm. Would they ever be together—all of them?

She spent the next hour adjusting to the sounds of the woods, staring at the figurine in her hand, taking the first watch as Roar drifted asleep. There were wolves out here. Bands of drifters and cannibals. She picked out the patterns in the wind and the rustle of animals, listening until she was sure they were safe. Then she put the falcon away and found her Smarteye.

Three days had passed since she’d contacted Hess on the beach. She glanced at Roar, asleep, and then applied the device. The Eye attached as the biotech activated, and her Smartscreen popped up.

She chose the Hess icon and then felt the familiar tug of fractioning, that moment when her mind adjusted to being here and here. She’d appeared at a café in a Venetian Realm. Gondolas glided along the Grand Canal just steps away, roses floating in the sparkling, clear water. It was a beautiful, sunny day, golden and warm. Somewhere, a string quartet played, the notes thin and brittle.

Hess appeared across the small table. He had modified his clothing this time, wearing an ivory-colored suit with light blue pinstripes and a red tie. He’d given himself a tan, but the effect was odd. He looked strangely older—or, rather, closer to his true age of well over a hundred—and his skin was orange. So unlike Perry’s bronze skin.

Hess frowned at her clothes. Before she could utter a word, she felt a jolt, like her entire body had blinked. She looked down. A royal-blue silk dress clung to her like a second skin.

Hess smiled. “That’s better.”

Her heart started drumming with anger. “Much,” she said.

A waiter arrived with a tray of coffees. Dark-eyed and handsome, he could have been Roar’s brother. He smiled as he set the drinks on the table. A warm breeze blew past, carrying the spicy scent of cologne and shifting Aria’s hair on her bare back. It was all so normal and safe and charming. A year ago, Paisley would’ve been kicking her under the table over the waiter’s smile. Caleb would have looked up from his sketchbook and rolled his eyes. She was suddenly furious at how difficult life was now.

Hess sipped his coffee. “Are you well, Aria?”

Did he know she’d been poisoned? Could he tell through the Eye? Through her body chemistry? “I’m terrific,” she said. “How are you?”

“Terrific,” he said, matching her sarcasm. “You’re on your way now. Are you traveling alone?”

“What do you care?”

Hess’s eyes narrowed on her. “We detected a storm near you.”

Aria smirked. “I detected it too.”

“I can imagine.”

“No, you really can’t. I need to know if something’s happening in Reverie, Hess. Were you hit by the storm? Has there been any damage?”

He blinked at her. “You’re a smart girl. What do you think?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. I need to know. I need proof that Talon is all right. I want to see my friends. And I want to know what you’re going to do when I give you the location of the Still Blue. Are you moving the entire Pod? How will you do that?” Aria leaned across the table. “I know what I’m doing, but what about you? What about everything else?”

Hess tapped his fingers on the marble tabletop. “You’re quite fascinating now. Life among the Savages suits you.”

Suddenly the Realm plunged into silence. Aria looked to the canal. The gondola had frozen on water that was as still as glass. A flock of pigeons hung in the air above, caught in mid-flight. People looked around them, panic on their faces; then the Realm snapped back, sound and movement returning.

“What was that?” she demanded. “Answer me, or we’re done.”

Hess took another sip of coffee and watched the traffic in the Grand Canal like nothing had just happened. “Do you think you can fraction if I don’t want you to?” He looked back at her. “We’re done when I say so.”

Aria grabbed her coffee and flung it at him. The dark liquid splattered over his face and his pale suit. Hess jerked back, gasping, even though it hadn’t hurt him. Nothing in the Realms could inflict true pain. The most he would feel was warmth, but she’d surprised him. She had his attention now.

“Still want me to stay?” she asked.

He disappeared before she’d finished speaking, leaving her to stare at an empty chair. Though she knew it would be pointless, she tried to shut off the Eye. She was ready to be back—completely—in the real.

UNAUTHORIZED COMMAND flashed on her Smartscreen.

Now what? The waiter peered through the café window, interest sparking in his eyes. Aria turned away, looking toward the canal. A couple embraced at the top of the ornate cement bridge, watching the water traffic below. She tried to imagine that she was the one pressed against the rail. That it was Perry brushing her hair aside and whispering in her ear. Perry had hated the Realms. She couldn’t form the picture in her mind.

A time counter appeared at the upper corner of her Smartscreen. It ticked down from thirty minutes. Aria braced herself. Hess was up to something.

In the next moment, she fractioned to another Realm, appearing on a wooden pier. The ocean lapped gently below, and gulls cried overhead, the sounds garish parodies of their real versions. A boy sat at the very end of the pier. He faced out to sea, but Aria knew exactly who he was.

Talon.

She felt sick. She’d wanted to know that Perry’s nephew was well, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know him. She didn’t want to care any more than she already did. And what was she supposed to say to him? Talon didn’t even know her. She looked down at herself. At least she was back in her usual black clothes.

The time counter now read twenty-eight minutes. She’d been standing there for two minutes. She shook her head at herself, and went to him.

“Talon?”

He leaped to his feet and faced her, his eyes wide with surprise. She’d never met Talon, but she’d seen him once before. Months ago, when Perry had visited Talon in the Realms, she’d been watching on a wallscreen. He was a striking boy, with curling brown hair and serious green eyes, their color darker, richer than Perry’s.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“A friend of your uncle’s.”

He glared at her suspiciously. “Then how come I don’t know you?”

“I met him after you were brought into Reverie. I’m Aria. I was with Perry when he came to see you in the Realms last fall.... I was helping him from the outside.”

Talon wedged his fishing rod between the slats on the wooden pier. “So you’re a Dweller?”

“Yes … and an Outsider, too. I’m half of both.”

“Oh.... Where are you? Outside or in Reverie?”

“Outside. I’m actually … I’m sitting next to Roar.”

Talon’s eyes brightened. “Roar’s there?”

“He’s asleep, but when he wakes, I’ll tell him you said hello.” Another pole rested by the pier. Talon was using two. He was a Tider, she realized. He’d probably fished for all of his eight years. “Can I join you?”

He didn’t look happy about it, but he said, “Sure.”

Aria picked up the extra rod and sat next to him. She couldn’t believe that after a few days in a fishing settlement, she was now fishing in the Realms. She studied the wooden pole in her hands, realizing she had no idea how to cast it. She’d gone fishing in another Realm before. A Space Fishing Realm, where you fired hooks at fish as you floated through the cosmos. This was fishing as the ancients had done it.

“Umm … here,” Talon said, taking the rod from her hand. He cast out slowly, so she could see what he was doing, then handed it back.

“Thanks,” she said.

He shrugged without looking at her and began swinging his legs over the edge of the pier. Kicking left and right, left and right, left and right. Being still makes me tired, Perry had once told her. Apparently it ran in the family.

“We use nets more at home,” Talon said after a while.

“Oh, really?” She fumbled for a follow-up question. The timer read twenty-three minutes. “Do you like fishing better or hunting?”

He looked at her like she was crazy. “I love them both.”

“I could’ve probably guessed that. You look like you’re good at both.” He was sturdier now, healthier than when she’d seen him in the fall.

Talon scratched his nose. “I can catch them and catch them, but this Realm doesn’t let you cook them. I tried a few times. I gathered some wood and I tried to start a fire, but it doesn’t work. There’s no fire in the Realms. I mean there is, but it’s like a pretend kind of fire?”

Aria bit her lip, nodding. She knew that too well.

“You have to go to a cooking Realm to cook fish, but those are barmy. And then even when you eat them, it doesn’t fill your stomach after you leave the Realms. It’s not as fun catching them when there’s no point.”

Aria smiled. When he talked, his legs stopped swinging, and a crease appeared between his eyebrows. “I’m sure there are places where you can compete,” she suggested.

“For what?”

“For, you know, rankings. You could be first place.”

“Does first place mean I get to cook and eat what I catch?”

Aria laughed. “Probably not.”

“Maybe I’ll try them anyway.” He looked out at the ocean and swung his legs for a while before he spoke again. “I want to go home. I want to see my uncle.”

She felt her throat tighten. He hadn’t asked for his father. She wondered if he’d figured out what had happened between Vale and Perry, but it wasn’t her place to ask. It dawned on her that he no longer had parents. He was an orphan like she was.

“Are you unhappy in Reverie?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. I just want to go home. I’m better now. The doctors here made me better.”

“That’s good, Talon.” She remembered Perry telling her that Talon had been ill on the outside. “I’m going to get you out, and back home to the Tides. I promise.”

He scratched his knee but didn’t say anything.

“Do you ever fish with a friend?”

“Clara used to come with me. She’s Brooke’s sister. Do you know Brooke?”

Aria swallowed back a laugh. “Yes, I know Brooke. Why did Clara stop fishing with you?”

“She got bored. She thinks this Realm is too slow now. No one likes to fish this way.”

“I like it. Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

Talon gave her a sidelong glance and smiled. “All right.”

For the rest of their time together, Talon told her about all the fish he’d caught here. Using what sort of bait. At what time of day. Under what weather conditions.

He tipped his head to the side when his voice grew softer. His legs never stopped swinging over the edge of the pier. A few times, when he smiled, she had to look to the sea and breathe; he was so much like his uncle. She hugged him as the counter wound down to zero, promising she’d come see him again soon.

Aria fractioned into another Realm—an office. Hess sat at a sleek gray desk with a glass wall behind him. Through it she saw Reverie’s Panop—her home her entire life—with its circular levels coiling up. The view stole her breath and beckoned her forward. She’d been in the Realms dozens of times with Hess since she’d been cast out, but she hadn’t seen the Pod, her physical home, until now.

Hess spoke before she’d taken a step. “Pleasant visit,” he said. “He’s not suffering, as you saw. I hope we can keep it that way.”

17

PEREGRINE

Pledge, Vale,” Perry said, as he held the knife to his brother’s throat. His voice sounded too harsh, like his father’s voice, and his hands shook so badly he couldn’t hold the blade steady. He had Vale pinned to the grass in an empty field.

“Pledge to you? You can’t be serious. You have no idea what you’re doing, Perry. Admit it.”

“I know what I’m doing!”

Vale started laughing. “Then why did they leave you? Why did she leave you?”

“Shut up!” Perry pressed the blade against his brother’s throat, but Vale only laughed harder.

Then it wasn’t Vale. It was Aria. Beautiful. So beautiful beneath him, on Vale’s bed. She laughed as he held the knife to her throat. Perry couldn’t take the blade away. It trembled in his hand as he pressed it against the smooth skin at her neck, and he couldn’t stop himself and she didn’t care. She just kept laughing.

Perry lurched out of the nightmare and shot upright in his loft. He cursed loudly, unable to keep it quiet. Sweat rolled down his back, and he was out of breath.

“Easy. Easy, Perry,” Reef said. He was perched on the ladder, brow furrowed with worry.

The house was dim and deathly silent. Perry didn’t hear the usual snores of the Six. He’d woken everyone up.

“You all right?” Reef asked.

Perry turned toward the shadows, hiding his face. Two days. She’d been gone two days. He reached for his shirt and pulled it on.

“I’m fine,” he said.

Bear was waiting for him when he stepped outside. “We’re leaner than ever, Perry, I know that. But I need my people rested. It’s too much, asking them to work a whole day in the fields and then do the night watch. Some of us need sleep.”

Perry tensed. He slept even less lately, and everyone knew it. “We can’t afford to be raided. I need people on watch.”

“I need help clearing drainage ditches, Perry. I need help tilling and seeding. What I don’t need is people snoring when they should be working.”

“Make do with what you have, Bear. Everyone else is.”

“I will, but we won’t get more than half of what we need done.”

“Then do the half! I’m not pulling men off watch.”

Bear went still, as did several people around the clearing. Perry didn’t understand how they didn’t understand. Almost a quarter of the tribe had dispersed. Of course they couldn’t get everything done. He’d hoped to build up food rations for the tribe’s journey to the Still Blue, but after the damage from the Aether storm and the loss of manpower, it was all he could do to keep them fed every day. They were overworked and underfed, and he needed a solution.

He considered his options throughout the day as he cleared drains for Bear and checked the Tides’ defense measures. Reef worked beside him, close as his shadow. When Reef wasn’t there, one of the Six took his place. They wouldn’t leave him alone. Even Cinder seemed in on it, joining Perry if he walked off in search of a few minutes to himself.

He didn’t know what they expected from him. The initial shock had worn off, and now he saw the situation for what it was. Roar and Aria had left; they would go to the Horns to find Liv and the Still Blue. Soon they’d return, and that was all. It had to be. He wouldn’t let himself think beyond that.

Supper was late that night—they’d lost three cooks to Wylan’s group—and the cookhouse was strangely empty and quiet. Perry didn’t taste his food, but he ate because the tribe watched him. Because he had to show them that things might have changed but tomorrow would still come.

Reef fell in step with him as he left the cookhouse and headed for the eastern lookout. Perry sensed Reef working up the courage to say something as they walked. Hands curling into fists, he waited to be told he needed sleep, or more patience, or both.

“Terrible supper,” Reef said at last.

Perry let out a breath, the tension seeping out of his fingers. “Could’ve been better.”

Reef looked up to the sky. “You feel it?”

Perry nodded. The sting in the back of his nose warned him that another storm wouldn’t be far off. “Almost always now.”

The Aether flowed, corded and angry, giving the night a blue, marbled glow. After the storm, the calm skies had only held for a day. Now there was little difference between day and night anymore. Days were darkened by clouds and the blue cast of Aether. Nights were brightened by the same. They flowed together, the edges blurring into an endless day. An ever night.

He looked at Reef. “I need you to send a message.”

Reef raised his eyebrows. “To?”

“Marron.” Perry didn’t want to ask for help from him again—he’d done it only months ago when he’d sought refuge there with Roar and Aria—but the Tides’ position was too weak. He needed food and he needed people. He’d ask for a favor before he saw his tribe starve or lose the compound in a raid.

Reef agreed. “It’s a good idea. I’ll send Gren first thing tomorrow.”

Even after he and Reef showed up to relieve them, Twig and Gren remained at the watch post, huddled at the edge of a rocky overlook. The four of them sat together in comfortable silence as a fine mist began to fall.

Hyde and Hayden arrived soon after, Straggler trailing behind them. They had the night off watch, all three. Perry had seen Hyde yawn half a dozen times during supper. They settled themselves along the lookout, watching as the mist thickened to rain. Still no one spoke, or left.

“Quiet night,” Twig said finally. “We’re quiet, I mean. Not the rain.” His voice sounded raspy and hoarse after the long stretch of silence.

“You eat a frog, Twig?” Hayden asked.

“Maybe there were frogs in the soup tonight,” said Gren.

Hyde grunted. “Frogs taste better than that tripe.”

Twig cleared his throat. “You know I almost did eat a live frog once,” he said.

“Twig, you look like a frog. You have froggy eyes.”

“Show us how high you can jump, Twig.”

“Shut up and let him croak the story.”

The story itself wasn’t much. As a boy, Twig had been on the brink of kissing a frog, on a dare from his brother, when it slipped through his fingers and jumped into his mouth. It was the wrong story for Twig to tell. At twenty-three, he had yet to kiss a girl, and the Six knew it, as they knew nearly everything about one another. A massacre followed, as they took shots at Twig, saying things like maybe he was worried that after the frog, a girl would be a letdown, and that they supported his quest to find a prince.

Perry listened, smiling at the better jabs, feeling more himself than he had in the past two days. Eventually it grew quiet again, except for the rhythm of a few snores. He looked around him. The rain had stopped. Some slept. Others breathed steadily, focused on the night. No one spoke, but Perry heard them clearly. He understood why they’d been shadowing him and why they sat with him now, staying when they didn’t have to.

Given any choice, they wouldn’t leave. They’d stand by him.

18

ARIA

We made better pace today.” Aria wrung her hair out, scooting closer to the fire. Spring had come in force, with days of steady rain. They’d left the Tides three days ago, and her strength had finally returned. “Don’t you think we made up some ground?”

Roar lay against his satchel, his legs crossed at the ankle, his foot tapping to a beat she couldn’t hear. “We did.”

“Good fire, too. We got lucky to find dry wood.”

Roar looked over, raising an eyebrow. She realized she’d been staring not at him, but through him.

“You know what’s worse than mute Aria? Small-talking Aria.”

She picked up a stick and jabbed at the fire. “I’m just sparing you.”

They had traveled in near silence most of the day, despite Roar’s attempts at conversation. He wanted to discuss their plan for when they reached the Horns. How would they discover information about the Still Blue? How would they negotiate for Liv’s return? But Aria hadn’t wanted to discuss anything. She’d needed to stay focused on moving forward. On pushing harder when she felt the urge to turn back. And speaking might get her speaking.

She worried about Talon. She missed Perry. There was nothing she could do about either except race to the Horns. Now, feeling a little guilty over her silence, she was trying—lamely, it was true—to make up for it.

Roar frowned. “You’re sparing me?”

“Yes, sparing you. All I’ve got right now is anxious nonsense. I’m exhausted, but I can barely sit still. And I feel like we should keep going.”

“We can travel through the night,” he said.

“No. We need to rest. See? I’m not making any sense.”

Roar watched her for a moment. Then he looked up at the tree branches above them, his expression growing thoughtful. “Have I ever told you about the first time Perry tried Luster?”

“No,” she said. She’d heard stories about Perry, Roar, and Liv all winter, but she’d never heard this one.

“We were on the beach, the three of us. And you know how Luster is, how it sweeps you up. Anyway, Perry got a little carried away. He decided to strip down to nothing and go for a swim. This was right in the middle of the day, by the way.”

Aria smiled. “He did not.”

“He did. While he was out whooping in the waves, Liv took his clothes and decided it was a good time to get all the girls in the tribe to come down to the beach.”

Aria laughed. “Roar, she’s worse than you are!”

“You mean better.”

“I’m scared to see you two together. So what did Perry do?”

“He swam down the coast, and we didn’t see him until the following morning.” Roar scratched his chin, smiling. “He told us he snuck into the compound during the night wearing seaweed.”

“You mean he wore a … a seaweed skirt?” Aria laughed. “I would give anything to have seen that.”

Roar shuddered. “I’m glad I didn’t.”

“I can’t believe you never told me that story before.”

“I was saving it for the right moment.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Roar.” The story had pulled her from her worries for a little while, but they returned too quickly.

Gingerly, she pulled up her sleeve. The skin around the Marking was still red and scabbed, but the swelling had gone down. In some places it looked like ink had been smudged inside her skin. It was a mess.

She reached out and rested her hand on Roar’s forearm. For some reason, this seemed easier. Maybe it took less courage to just let herself think than to speak her worries aloud.

What if this was a sign? Maybe I’m not supposed to be an Outsider.

He surprised her by taking her hand and threading his fingers through hers. “You already are an Outsider. You fit everywhere. You just don’t see it yet.”

She stared at their hands. He’d never done that before.

Roar gave her a droll look. “It’s just odd having you lay your hand on my arm all the time,” he said, responding to her thoughts.

Yes, but this feels intimate. Don’t you think it does? I don’t mean that I think we’re being too intimate. I guess I do. Roar, sometimes it’s really hard to get used to this.

Roar flashed a grin. “Aria, this isn’t intimate. If I were being intimate with you, trust me, you’d know.”

She rolled her eyes. Next time you say something like that, you should toss a red rose and then leave with a swish of your cape.

He gazed off like he was imagining it. “I could do that.”

They fell into silence, and she realized how comforting it felt being connected to him this way.

“Good,” Roar said. “That’s the idea.”

His smile was encouraging. The last time I saw my mother, it was terrible, she admitted after a while. We were fighting. I said all the wrong things to her, and I’ve been regretting it since then. I think I always will. Anyway, I didn’t want to do that with Perry. I thought it would be easier to just leave.

“And I’m guessing you were wrong?”

She nodded. Leaving is never easy.

Roar watched her for a long moment, the hint of a smile in his eyes. “That’s not anxious nonsense, Aria. It’s what’s happening. It’s truth.” He squeezed her hand and let go. “Please don’t ever spare me that.”

When Roar fell asleep, she dug her Smarteye out of her satchel. It was time to check in with Hess again. For days, she’d been picturing Talon with his legs swinging over the pier. Now her stomach tightened as she remembered Hess’s threat. She chose the Hess icon on her Smartscreen and fractioned. When she saw where she was, every muscle in her body went rigid.

The Paris Opera House.

From her spot at center stage, she stood in stunned silence, absorbing the familiar opulence of the hall. Tiers of gilded balconies wrapped around a sea of red velvet seats. Her eyes traveled higher, to the colorful fresco nestled in the domed ceiling, lit by the brilliant grand chandelier. She’d been coming here since she was just a young girl. This Realm—more than anywhere—felt like home.

Her focus moved beyond the orchestra pit to the seat directly in front of her.

Empty.

Aria closed her eyes. This had been her place with Lumina. She could imagine her mother there, in her simple black dress, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, a gentle smile on her lips. Aria had never known a more reassuring smile. A smile that said, Everything will be all right and I believe in you. She felt that now. A stillness. A certainty. Everything would work out. She clung to the feeling, locking it in her heart. Then slowly she opened her eyes, and the feeling seeped away, leaving questions that burned in the back of her throat.

How could you leave me, Mom? Who was my father? Did he mean anything to you?

She’d never have answers. She would only have an ache that stretched backward and forward and kept going as far as she could see.

The stage lights clicked off, and then the audience lights. Suddenly she stood in blackness so complete that her balance wavered. Her ears thrummed to their full power, ready to seize any small sound.

“What is this, Hess?” she said, annoyed. “I can’t see.”

A spotlight sliced through the darkness, blinding her. Aria lifted her hand, shielding her eyes from the light and waiting for them to adjust. She could just make out the dark void of the orchestra pit below and the rows of seats beyond. High above, thousands of crystals from the grand chandelier twinkled.

“A bit theatrical for you, isn’t this, Hess? Are you going to sing Phantom of the Opera to me?” On a whim, she sang a few lines of “All I Ask of You.” She’d only meant to play around, but the lyrics swept her up. The next thing she knew, she was thinking of Perry and singing.

She’d missed the way the hall amplified her control and power. This stage had never been mere boards on which to stand. It was alive—shoulders that propped her up and lifted her higher. When she finished, she had to cover her emotion with a smile. “No applause? You’re hard to please.”

His silence was going on too long. She pictured the small marble-topped table, the delicate saucers filled with coffee—all absent for the first time—just as an arrogant voice broke through the silence.

“It’s good to see you again, Aria. It’s been a while.”

Soren.

Dead ahead, roughly four rows back, she saw a shadowed figure silhouetted against the darkness. Aria rolled onto the balls of her feet and breathed steadily as images flashed before her eyes. Soren, chasing her as fire raged around them. Soren, on top of her, crushing her throat with his hands.

This was the Realms, she reminded herself. Better than Real. No pain. No danger. He couldn’t hurt her here.

“Where’s your father?” she asked.

“Busy,” Soren answered.

“So he sent you?”

“No.”

“You hacked your way in.”

“Hacking is something you do with a machete. This was a minor incision with a scalpel. Your mother would’ve liked that analogy. This is where you used to come with her, isn’t it? I thought you’d like coming back.”

The amusement in his voice made her stomach churn with anger. “What do you want, Soren?”

“A lot of things. But right now I want to see you.”

To see her? She doubted it. Revenge seemed more likely. He probably blamed her for what happened that night in Ag 6. She wasn’t going to wait around to find out. Aria tried to fraction out of the Realm.

“That won’t work,” Soren said, just as a message appeared on her screen, telling her the same. “Nice try, though. I liked the song, by the way. Touching. You’ve always been amazing, Aria. Really. Sing some more. I like that story. There’s a horror Realm about it.”

“I’m not singing to you,” she said. “Turn the lights back on.”

“He’s deformed, isn’t he? The Phantom?” Soren continued, ignoring her. “Doesn’t he wear the mask to hide how hideous he is?”

There was another way out of the Realms. Aria shifted her focus to the real and curled her fingers around the edges of the Smarteye. She knew the pain of ripping off the device. A shocking ache that burned in the back of her eyes and ran like fire down her spine. She wanted out of there, but she couldn’t bring herself to tear it off.

Soren’s voice pulled her back to the Realm. “By the way, that blue dress in Venice was deadly. Thoroughly sexy. And champ move with the coffee. You shocked the hell out of my father.”

“You’ve been watching me? You’re disgusting.”

He snorted. “If you only knew.”

He’d toy with her as long as she allowed it. Aria took a few steps to the side, beyond the reach of the spotlight. Darkness settled over her—a relief this time. There. Now they were even.

“What are you doing? Where are you going?” Soren’s voice climbed in panic, spurring her on.

“Stay there, Soren. I’ll come down to you.” She wasn’t, really. Aria couldn’t see beyond the tip of her nose. But let him imagine her lurking in the darkness for a bit.

“What? Stop! Stay where you are!”

She heard a resounding thump-thump, like limbs sprawling. Then the lights came back—all of them—lighting up the lavish hall.

Soren had stumbled into the center aisle. He stood there, keeping his back turned to her. His breath was ragged, and his thick shoulders strained against his black shirt. He’d always been solid muscle.

“Soren?” One second passed. Two. “Why aren’t you facing me?”

He grasped the seat beside him like he needed to steady himself. “I know my father told you. Don’t act like you don’t know what happened to my jaw.”

She remembered and finally understood. “He told me it had to be reconstructed.”

“Reconstructed,” he said, still facing away from her. “That’s such a tidy way to describe the five fractures and burns that needed to be fixed on my face.”

Aria watched him, fighting the pull she felt to go to him. Finally she cursed herself for being too curious, and climbed down the stairs. Her heart beat wildly as she walked past the pit and up the aisle. She made herself keep going until she stood in front of him.

Soren stared down at her with brown eyes that swam in rage, his lips pulled in a tense, grim line. He was holding his breath, just as she was.

He looked the same. Tan. Big-boned. Handsome in a harsh way, the angles of his face just a little too sharp. He held his chin at a condescending tilt. She couldn’t help but compare him to Perry, who never seemed to look down at people despite being much taller.

Soren hadn’t changed except for one significant difference. The set of his jaw was slightly off, and a scar ran through his bronzed skin, from the left corner of his mouth down to his jawbone.

Perry had given him that scar. That night in Ag 6 he had stopped Soren from strangling her. She’d be dead if Soren didn’t have that scar. But she knew he hadn’t been in his right mind. He’d been affected by Degenerative Limbic Syndrome—a brain disease that weakened basic survival instincts. It was the same disease her mother had studied.

“It doesn’t look that bad,” she said. She knew what it was like in Reverie. No one had scars. No one even had scratches. But she couldn’t believe what she was saying. Was she really consoling Soren?

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Not bad? When did you get to be so funny, Aria?”

“Recently, I guess. You know, they’re all scarred on the Outside. You should see this one guy, Reef. He’s got this deep scar across his cheek. It’s like a zipper running through his skin. Yours is … I mean, you can barely see it.”

Soren narrowed his eyes. “How’d he get it?”

“Reef? He’s a Scire. Those are Outsiders who … never mind. I don’t know for sure, but my guess is that someone tried to cut his nose off.”

Her voice rose at the end, making it sound like a question. She was trying to seem unfazed, but the brutality of the outside world seemed even more pronounced in such an elegant place. Aria studied his scar more closely. “Can’t you get your father to hide that for you in the Realms? Wouldn’t it just be simple programming?”

“I could do it, Aria. I don’t need my father to do anything in here.” His voice rose almost to a yell. Then he shrugged. “Anyway, why bother? I can’t hide it in the real. Everyone knows I look like this. They know, and they won’t ever unknow it.”

Soren wasn’t the same at all, she realized. His usual smug expression looked forced, like he was trying too hard to keep it there. She remembered that Bane and Echo—his closest friends—had died in Ag 6 the same night as Paisley.

“I can’t talk about what happened that night, to anyone,” he said. “My father says it would threaten the safety of the Pod.” He shook his head, pain flitting across his face. “He blames me for what happened. He doesn’t understand.” Soren looked down at his hand, still gripping the seat beside him. “But you do. You know I didn’t do anything to you on purpose … don’t you?”

Aria crossed her arms. As much as she wanted to blame him for what he’d done to her, she couldn’t. She’d learned about the disease in her mother’s research files. After hundreds of years in the Realms and the safety of the Pod, some people, like Soren, had lost the ability to cope with real pain and stress. He’d behaved the way he had in Ag 6 because of DLS. She understood—but she also couldn’t let him off easy.

“I feel like that was an apology in disguise,” she said.

Soren nodded. “Maybe,” he said, sniffing. “Actually, it was.”

“Apology accepted. But don’t ever touch me again, Soren.”

His eyes flicked up, the look in them relieved, vulnerable. “I won’t.” He straightened and ran a hand over his head. The softness she’d seen vanished, replaced by a smirk. “Did you know not everyone has DLS? I’m part of the crazy group. How’s that for luck? Doesn’t matter. I’m getting the meds. A couple of weeks and I’ll be ready.”

“What meds? And ready for what?”

“Experimental cures so I won’t go mental again. And immunization to outside diseases. They give them to Guardians who work on external repairs in case their suits rip or break. Once I have them, I’m coming out there. I’m done with this.”

Aria gaped at him. “Out here? Soren, you have no idea how dangerous it is. It’s not like going to a Safari Realm.”

“Reverie’s breaking, Aria,” he snapped. “We’re all coming out there sooner or later.”

“What are you talking about? What’s happening to Reverie?”

“Promise to help me on the Outside and I’ll tell you.”

Aria shook her head. “I’m not helping—”

“I could show you Caleb and Rune. Even the Savage kid you’re always asking about.” Suddenly his back straightened. “Gotta go. Time’s up on the scramble.”

“Wait. What’s wrong with Reverie?”

He grinned, tipping his chin up. “If you want to know, then come back,” he said, and fractioned out.

Aria blinked at the space where he’d been standing, and then at the empty opera hall. An icon flashed up on her Smartscreen, taking the spot next to the one for Hess.

It was the white mask of the Phantom of the Opera.

19

PEREGRINE

It’s been a week,” Reef said. “You ever going to talk about it?”

Perry leaned his elbows on the table. The rest of the tribe had cleared out of the cookhouse after supper hours ago, leaving only the two of them. The sound of crickets chirping at the night carried to his ears, and shafts of cool Aether light slanted into the darkened room.

Perry ran his finger across the top of the candle between them, playing with the flame. When he went too slowly, it hurt. The trick was to go quickly. To not stop.

“No. I’m not,” Perry answered, keeping his gaze on the flame.

Over the past days, he’d cleaned and gutted fish until the smell of the sea seeped into his fingers. He’d stayed out on night watch until his eyes grew bleary. He’d fixed a fence, then a ladder, and then a roof. He couldn’t ask the Tides to work night and day if he didn’t do so himself.

Reef crossed his arms. “The tribe would’ve turned against you if you’d left with her. And they would’ve turned if she’d stayed. She was smart. She saw that. Couldn’t have been an easy decision for her. She did the right thing.”

Perry looked up. Reef’s gaze was direct. In the candlelight, the scar on his face looked deeper. It made him look cruel. “What are you doing, Reef?”

“Trying to draw out the poison. You’ve got it inside you, just as she did that night. You can’t keep carrying this around, Perry.”

“Yes. I can,” he shot back. “I don’t care what she did, or why, or whether it’s wrong or right, understand?”

Reef nodded. “I understand.”

“There’s nothing more to say.” What good did sitting around and talking ever do? It wouldn’t change anything.

“All right,” Reef said.

Perry sat back. He took a drink and grimaced. The well water hadn’t recovered since the storm; it still tasted like ash. The Aether had a way of invading everything. It destroyed their food and burned their firewood before it ever reached their hearths. It even seeped into their water.

He’d done what he could by sending word to Marron. Now he had no move to make. No way to get Talon out of Reverie. Nothing to do except wait for Aria and Roar to come back and try to keep his people from starving. That didn’t sit right with him.

Perry rubbed a hand over the back of his head and sighed. “You want to know something?”

Reef nodded. “Sure.”

“I feel like an old man. I feel how you must feel.”

Reef smiled. “Not easy, is it, pup?”

“Could be easier.” Perry’s gaze drifted to his bow, leaning against the wall. When was the last time he’d used it? His shoulder had healed, and he had time now. He could find some food the way he always had.

“You want to hunt?” he asked, a surge of energy running through him. Suddenly nothing sounded better.

“Now?” Reef said, surprised. It was late, nearing midnight. “Thought you were tired.”

“Not anymore.” Perry pulled the Blood Lord chain over his head and dropped it into his satchel. He waited for Reef to object, and had his answers ready. It would be too loud if he had to run after prey, and too bright if he had to go unseen. But Reef just stood, a grin spreading over his face.

“Then let’s hunt.”

They loaded their quivers and jogged out beyond the compound. After checking in with Hayden, Hyde, and Twig, who sat watch on the eastern post, they slowed to a walk and moved off the trails into dense, untouched woods. Putting a hundred paces between them, they began to track.

Relief loosened Perry’s limbs as he moved away from the compound. He inhaled deeply, catching the sting of the Aether. Looking up, he saw the same glowing currents that had hovered threateningly above all week. They bathed the woods in cool light. An offshore breeze swept toward him, perfect for bringing him the scent of game and for keeping his own scent hidden. He treaded softly, scenting, scanning the woods, feeling more energized than he had in weeks.

The wind died down, and he became aware of the night’s stillness and the loudness of his footsteps. He looked up, expecting a storm, but the currents hadn’t changed. He found Reef, who walked up shaking his head.

“I got nothing. Squirrels. A fox, but only an old trail. Nothing worth—Perry, what is it?”

“I don’t know.” The wind had risen again, moving through the trees with a soft hiss. On the cool air, he caught human scents. Fear blasted through him, sparking in his veins. “Reef—”

Beside him, Reef cursed. “I got it too.”

They ran back to the eastern post. The rocky perch would give them the high ground. Twig reached them before they got there, his eyes frantic. “I was coming after you. Hyde’s warning the compound.”

“Do you hear them?” Perry asked.

Twig nodded. “They’ve got horses, and they’re coming at a full gallop. Thunder’s quieter.”

Perry pulled his bow off his shoulder. “We’ll make a stand here and slow them down.” A swift approach in the middle of the night meant one thing: an attack. He needed to buy the tribe some time. “Take the near range,” he told Hayden and Reef. “I’ll take the long.” He was the strongest archer among them, his eyes best suited to the dimness.

They spread out, finding cover among the trees and rocks along the overlook. His heart felt like a fist pounding inside his chest. The grassy meadow below looked as smooth and calm as a moonlit lake.

Was Wylan returning with a larger band to fight for the compound? Were the Rose and Night tribes attacking with their thousands? Suddenly he thought of Aria, lying on the bed in Vale’s room, and then Talon, snatched away into a Hovercraft. He hadn’t protected either of them from harm. He couldn’t fail the Tides.

His thoughts disappeared when the earth began to rumble beneath his feet. Perry nocked an arrow, instinct taking over as he drew his bow. Seconds later the first riders broke through the trees. He aimed for the man at the center of the charge and loosed the bowstring. The arrow struck the man in the chest. By the time he twisted sideways and fell from the horse, Perry had another arrow nocked. He aimed and fired. Another rider down.

The cries of the attackers broke the silence, raising the hair on his arms. He saw roughly thirty mounted raiders below, and now he heard the whistle of arrows flying past him. Ignoring them, he focused on finding the nearest man and firing. One after another, until he’d gone through his quiver and then Reef’s, with only one arrow that corkscrewed left and missed its mark because of damaged fletching, he was sure.

He lowered his bow and looked at Hayden, who was sighting down an arrow, scanning the field below for raiders. No one else came into view, just their horses, galloping off, riderless.

It wasn’t over, though. Seconds later a flood of people emerged from the woods, charging on foot.

“Hold them back as long as you can,” Perry ordered Hayden and Twig. Then he tore for home with Reef. They dug in, feet churning over the earth, pushing themselves to run faster. The compound appeared ahead—already crawling with the movements of people climbing to the rooftops and pulling the gates between the houses closed.

Perry sprinted into the clearing and spotted Brooke on top of the cookhouse, bow in hand.

“Archers up!” she yelled. “Archers up now!”

People pumped water from the well into buckets, preparing for fires. They’d brought the animals within the protection of the walls. Everyone moved as they should, as they’d practiced.

Perry tore up to the roof of the cookhouse. Against the pale tinge of dawn on the horizon, he saw the swarm of raiders tearing upslope. He put them at less than a half a mile away, and two hundred in number. The Tides had the fortified position, but as he saw the horde of people streaming toward the compound, he didn’t know if the tribe could hold them off.

The first arrows soared toward them, cracking roof tiles around him with sharp pops. Twig appeared at his side with a full quiver and a shield, giving him cover. Perry took his bow and set to defending his home. He’d done this plenty of times before, but never as the one in charge. The realization came on him like a quiet madness, slowing time, making his every move complete, efficient, sure.

Fire lit bright points of light against the rising dawn. A blazing arrow sliced past him, landing on the crates by the cookhouse. Perry adjusted his aim to the archers trying to set fire to the compound. His arrows—and those of Brooke and the Tides’ other archers—sheared through the charging mob. Some raiders fell into the trenches he’d had excavated and covered, but still they kept coming, too many in number. He watched as they split into smaller bands, swinging wide to circle the compound.

Men were climbing the gates, chopping at them with axes. Perry fired his last arrow, spearing one of them through. Not enough. Too late. He heard a splintering crash and saw the gates split open. They’d been breached—and they were burning. Smoke wafted from the stables, and from the crates by the cookhouse.

Perry climbed down from the roof, drawing his knife as he leaped off the ladder. He drove it into a man’s gut as he ran past. Voices he recognized screamed around him. He heard them faintly, no thought in his mind but finding the next attacker, the moment of hesitation, the false step, and seizing it.

In flashes, he saw Reef fighting nearby, his braids swinging in a blur. He saw Gren and Bear. Rowan, who’d resisted learning a weapon. Molly, whose life had been spent healing wounds.

Perry caught the glimpse of a black hat moving across the clearing. Cinder. A man with braided hair like Reef’s snagged him by the shoulder, yanking him off his feet. Perry watched him cower, powerless, though he wasn’t. Not a person there had more power, but Cinder wilted and didn’t fight back. Willow darted forward suddenly and plunged a dagger into the man’s leg. She took Cinder’s hand and pulled him away, running into the nearest house.

A raider with metal studs around his eyes spotted Perry and charged forward, ax held high. Perry had a knife—no weapon to challenge an ax. With only steps left between them, an arrow struck the raider’s head, lifting him off his feet. The impact sounded like stone roof tiles cracking. The man’s body and the ax thudded to the dirt. Looking up, Perry saw Hyde on the roof above, the string of his bow still quivering.

He spun and plunged back into battle, losing time until someone yelled, “Pull back!” Around the clearing, others picked up the call. He saw the crowd grow thinner, no longer a thrashing, clanging mass.

Stunned, he watched the raiders retreat over the field they’d crossed no more than an hour before. Some carried sacks with them—food or other provisions. From the rooftops, Hyde and Hayden fired at them, forcing them to drop their stolen goods to run.

When the last of them had gone, Perry scanned the compound. Fires needed to be put out. The crates burning beside the cookhouse worried him most. He gave that work to Reef, then sent Twig to track the raiders and make sure they weren’t doubling back. Then he looked around the clearing. Bodies lay strewn everywhere.

Perry made his way around, finding each of the wounded, calling Molly over to those hurt the worst. He counted twenty-nine dead. All raiders. None of them his. Sixteen people had been wounded, ten of them Tiders. Bear had a gash on his arm, but he would live. Rowan needed a cut on his head sewn together. There were more injuries—a broken leg, smashed fingers, welts and burns—but nothing fatal.

At that point, knowing they’d all survived, he stepped over the broken main gate and walked beyond the compound until the flood of relief forced him to his knees. Digging his hands into the dirt, he felt the pulse of the earth move through his body, steadying him.

When he rose, a knot of brightness caught his eye to the east, and then another, just north. They were the glowing slash of funnels dropping from the sky. For a moment he watched the storms in the distance, absorbing the fact that his land was burning. He’d protected the compound from human attack, but the Aether was an enemy too powerful to fight off. He wouldn’t let that weigh him down now. Today, he had won. Nothing could steal that away.

He returned to the clearing and organized the handling of the slain raiders. First they stripped the valuables from the dead. The tribe would reuse weapons, belts, and shoes. Then they loaded the bodies on horse carts, making one trip after another over the sandy trail. At the beach, wood was stacked to form a pyre. When it was ready, he dropped the torch that lit the wood, speaking the words that would release the souls of the dead to the Aether. He did this with some amazement at himself. Here, in the aftermath of battle just as during, neither his voice nor his hands wavered.

It was well into afternoon by the time he took the path back through the dunes to the compound, his legs shaking with fatigue. Perry slowed his pace, and Reef matched him. They let the others pull ahead.

Bloodstains covered Perry’s shirt, his knuckles throbbed, and he was pretty sure he’d broken his nose again, but Reef had managed to come through the raid without a scratch on him. Perry didn’t know how he’d done it. He’d seen Reef fighting as hard as he had been, maybe harder.

“What’d you do this morning?” he asked.

Reef smirked. “Slept late. You?”

“Read a book.”

Reef shook his head. “I don’t believe you. You look worse after you read.” He was quiet for a moment, the humor disappearing from his face. “We got lucky today. Most of those people had no idea how to fight.”

He was right. The raiders had been desperate and disorganized. The Tides wouldn’t be that lucky twice. “Any idea where they were from?” Perry asked.

“South. They lost their own compound a few weeks ago. Strag got it out of one of the injured before he drove them off Tide land. They were after shelter. My guess is they got word of our weak numbers and decided to take a chance. They won’t be the last ones to try.” Reef tipped his chin at Perry. “You know you probably wouldn’t be standing here if you’d been wearing the chain? They’d have targeted you. Take the leader down and the rest is easy.”

Perry stopped. He reached up, feeling the absence of the weight around his neck, and then noticed that Reef was carrying his satchel.

“It’s in here,” he said, handing it over. “Strange thing about you, Peregrine. Sometimes it’s like you know things are going to happen before they do.”

“No,” Perry said, taking it. “If I could predict the future, I’d have avoided a lot of things.” He slipped the chain out of the leather pack. For an instant he held it in his hand and felt a connection to Vale and his father through it.

“They’re calling you a hero for this,” Reef said. “I’ve heard it a few times already.”

Were they? Perry pulled the chain over his head. “First time for everything, I guess,” he joked, but it made no sense to him. What he’d done today felt no different from trying to rescue Old Will during the storm.

As he walked up, he found the tribe waiting at the compound. They spread into a circle around him. The clearing had been washed down with buckets of water, but the mud beneath his feet held traces of ash and blood. At his side, Reef muffled a grunt, reacting to the scent that hung in the afternoon air. Pure fear was hard on the nose.

Perry knew they wanted to be reassured—to be told that it was safe now, that the worst was over—but he couldn’t do it. Another tribe would raid them. Another Aether storm would come. He couldn’t lie and tell them that everything was fine. Besides, he was terrible at speeches. If there was something genuine and important to be said, he needed to look a person in the eye and say it.

He cleared his throat. “We can still put in the better part of a day’s work.”

The Tides looked at one another, unsure, but after a few moments they broke off to fix the protective walls and the roof tiles, and make all the other repairs that were needed.

Reef’s voice was quiet beside him. “Well done.”

Perry nodded. The tasks would help put them at ease. Repairing the compound would calm them more than any speech he could give.

Then it was time for him to do his own work. He started from the western edge of his territory and made his way east. He found the Tides, every one, in the stables, in the fields, at the harbor, and looked into their eyes and told them he was proud of what they’d done today.

Late that night, with the compound silent, Perry climbed up to his roof. He gripped the heavy links around his neck until the cool metal warmed between his fingers. For the first time, he felt like their Blood Lord.

20

ARIA

Ready?” Aria asked Roar.

They’d made camp by the Snake River, which would lead them the rest of the way to the Horns. Branches were strewn across the harsh, gravelly banks, and the wide river ran smooth as a mirror, reflecting the swirling Aether sky. They’d moved swiftly through the afternoon, keeping ahead of an Aether storm. The distant shriek of the funnels carried to her ears, prickling the skin on the back of her neck.

Roar leaned back against his satchel and crossed his arms. “I’ve been ready since the day I woke up and Liv wasn’t there. You?”

They’d spent the past week climbing Ranger’s Edge, a frigid mountain pass bordered by sharp, soaring peaks that looked like shredded metal. Between her ears and Roar’s, they’d steered clear of encounters with other people and wolves, but they hadn’t been able to escape the constant wind that sliced through the pass, trapping it in what felt like perpetual winter. Aria’s lips had chapped and cracked. Her feet had blistered, and her hands were numb, but tomorrow, two weeks after they’d left the Tides, they’d reach Rim at last.

“Yes. Ready,” she answered, trying to sound more confident than she felt. The magnitude of her task was hitting her. How was she going to discover protected information from Sable—a Scire who despised Dwellers? A Blood Lord who trusted no one with the secret he guarded?

She pictured Talon’s legs swinging over the pier. If she failed, how would she get him out? Would it be the end of Reverie? Aria shook her head, pushing away the worries. She couldn’t let herself think that way.

“You think Sable will want to bargain?” she asked. They planned to tell him that they’d come on behalf of Perry, who, as new Blood Lord of the Tides, wanted to rescind the betrothal Vale had arranged a year earlier. They’d also try to buy the information of the Still Blue’s location.

Roar shook his head. “I don’t know. The Tides already accepted the first half of the dowry. The only way Perry can repay him is in land, but with the Aether getting worse, that might not be enough. Who would take on new territory just to watch it burn?” He lifted his shoulders. “It’s a long shot, but it might work. From what I know, Sable’s greedy. We’ll try it first.”

Their second tactic was to snoop around and figure out the Still Blue’s whereabouts, get Liv, and run.

As they fell into silence, Aria reached into her satchel for the falcon carving. She ran her fingers over the dark wood, remembering Perry’s smile as he’d said, Mine is the one that looks like a turtle.

“If he’s hurting her, or forcing her in any way—”

She looked up. Roar was staring at the campfire. His dark eyes flicked to hers before moving back to the flames. He hunched down into his coat, firelight dancing on his handsome face. “Forget I said that.”

“Roar … it’ll be all right,” she said, though she knew it wouldn’t bring him any comfort. He was trapped in the pain of not knowing. She remembered feeling the same way when she’d been searching for her mother. A cycle of hoping, and then the fear of hoping, and then just fear. There was no way out except to learn the truth. At least he’d have that tomorrow.

They fell into another stretch of quiet before Roar spoke again. “Aria, be careful around Sable. If he scents you’re nervous, he’ll ask until he learns why.”

“I can hide my nerves on the surface, but I won’t be able to stop feeling them. It’s not something that can be turned off and on.”

“That’s why you should keep away from him as much as possible. We’ll find ways to look around quietly for the Still Blue.”

She scooted her feet closer to the fire, feeling the heat soak into her toes. “So I’m supposed to stay away from the one person I’m trying to get close to?”

“Scires,” Roar said, like it explained everything.

In a way, it did.

After a few hours of restless sleep, she woke at dawn and slipped her Smarteye out of her satchel. She’d seen Hess twice during the week, but he’d kept their meetings short. He wanted news, and apparently walking day and night with freezing hands and feet didn’t qualify. He’d refused to let her see Talon again. Refused to tell her anything about Reverie’s condition. Whenever she asked, he fractioned, leaving her abruptly. Now she decided she’d had enough of being kept in the dark.

With Roar sleeping nearby, she applied the Smarteye and called the Phantom.

Seconds after she selected the white mask, Aria fractioned. Her heart leaped as she recognized the Realm. It was one of her favorites, based on an ancient painting of a gathering along the Seine River. Everywhere, people in nineteenth-century dress strolled or lounged, enjoying the sunshine as boats glided through the calm water. Birds twittered cheerfully, and a gentle breeze rustled the trees.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away from me.”

“Soren?” Aria asked, scanning the men around her. They wore top hats and suits with coattails, while the women wore bustled skirts and held colorful parasols. She looked for thickset shoulders. The aggressive tip of a chin.

“I’m here,” he said. “You just can’t see me. We’re invisible. People think you’re dead. If anyone saw you, there’s no way I could keep that from my father. Even I have limits.”

Aria looked down at her hands. She didn’t see them—or any part of herself. Panic washed over her. She felt like she was nothing more than a floating pair of eyes. In the real, she wiggled her fingers to shake off the feeling.

Then she heard a voice she’d known all her life.

“Pixie, you’re blocking my light.”

She followed the sound to the source, her heart thudding in her chest. Caleb sat on a red blanket just a few paces away, sketching in a notebook. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth—a habit he had when swept away by his creations. Aria took in his gangly limbs and ruddy hair as he moved a pencil across the page. He looked so much like Paisley. She’d never realized how alike they were until now.

“Can he hear me?” she whispered, her voice high and thin.

“No,” Soren said. “He has no idea we’re here. You’ve been saying you wanted to see him.”

She wanted much more than that. Aria wanted hours, days to spend with Caleb. Time to tell him how sorry she was about Paisley and how much she missed spending every day with him. Caleb was there with other people now. Pixie sat beside him in silence, watching him sketch, her jet-black hair trimmed shorter than Aria remembered. Aria wondered how Soren felt seeing her. Less than a year ago, they’d been dating. Rune was there as well with the Tilted Green Bottles’ drummer, Jupiter. They were tangled in a passionate kiss, oblivious to anyone else.

Something about them—about all of them—seemed distant and desperate.

“Congratulations,” Soren said. “You’re officially nothing.”

She panned the empty space beside her. It was strange hearing his voice and not being able to see him. “Soren, this is eerie.”

“Try it for five months, then tell me how you feel.”

“Is this … is this really how you spend your time?”

“You think I like skulking around? My father banned me, Aria. You think you were the only one he sold out after that night?” He made a snorting sound, like he regretted his last words. “Anyway … whatever.” He sighed. “Check it out. Jupiter and Rune are, like, mega into each other. Saw that coming. Jup’s a good man. Decent pilot, too. We used to have fun racing D-Wings before … you know. Before. And Pixie, she and I were … I don’t know. I don’t know what we were. But Caleb, Aria. What do you see in him?”

She saw a thousand things. A thousand memories. Caleb used words like audacious and lethargic to describe colors. He loved sushi because it was beautiful. When he laughed, he covered his mouth. When he yawned, he didn’t. He was the first boy she’d ever kissed, and it’d been a disaster—nothing like the breathless thrill of kissing Perry. They’d been on a Ferris wheel in a carnival Realm. Caleb’s eyes had been open, which she hadn’t liked. She’d kissed his bottom lip, which he’d found odd. But the main problem, they’d decided, was that the kiss had lacked meaning. Or gravitas, as Caleb had called it.

Now when she looked at him, all she saw was meaning. All she felt was sadness. For him. For how they’d been. Things would never be the same.

Aria’s attention moved to his drawing, curious to see what absorbed him. The sketch was a side view of a skeletal figure in a tight crouch, knees and arms bent, head down. It reached to the very edge of the page, so the figure looked trapped in a box. The drawing was somber, menacing, and nothing like his usual loose sketches.

Suddenly, silence closed over the Realm. Aria looked up. The trees were still. No sounds drifted up from the river. The Realm was as motionless as the painting it’d been modeled after, except for the anxious, subtle shifting of the people. Caleb’s gaze lifted from his sketchbook. Pixie squinted at the sky and then at the river like she couldn’t believe her eyes. Rune and Jupiter drew apart and looked at each other with confusion.

“Soren—” Aria began.

“It usually comes right back.”

He was right. A second later, the sound of birdsong returned, and a breeze stirred the leaves above her. Out on the lake, sailboats resumed their progress over the water.

The Realm had unlocked, but it hadn’t returned to normal. Caleb snapped his sketchbook shut, sticking his pencil over his ear. A man nearby cleared his throat and adjusted his tie, resuming his walk along the path. Slowly, conversations around them picked up again, but they seemed forced, a little too enthusiastic.

Aria had never dreamed until she’d been cast out of Reverie. Now she saw how similar the Realms were. A good dream was something you clung to until the last moment before waking. Caleb was clinging. They all were. Everything about this place was good, and they didn’t want to see any hint of it ending.

“Soren, can we get out of here? I don’t want to watch this any—”

They fractioned back to the opera hall before she’d finished speaking. Aria looked down, relieved to see herself.

Soren stood with her onstage. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “What do you think of your old life? Different, right?”

“That’s putting it lightly. The glitch just now—how often is that happening?”

“A few times a day. I looked into it. Power surges. One of the domes that houses a generator was compromised this winter, so things are … glitchy.”

A wave of numbness rolled through her. It was the same thing that had happened to Bliss, the Pod where her mother had died. “Can’t they fix it?”

“They’re trying. It’s what they’ve always done. But with Aether storms getting worse, they can’t patch the damage fast enough.”

“That’s why your father is pressuring me for the Still Blue.”

“He’s desperate—and he should be. We have to get out of here. It’s just a matter of time.” He smiled darkly. “That’s where you come in. You wanted to see them, and I told you what’s happening in Reverie. Now you have to help me when I come out there.”

She studied him. “You’re really ready to leave everything?”

“What everything, Aria?” He glared at the audience seats. “You want to know what I’m leaving? A father who ignores me. Who doesn’t even trust me. Friends I can’t see, and a Pod that’s an Aether storm away from ruin. You think I’m going to miss any of that? I’m already on the outside.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. Calming himself. “Do we have a deal or not?”

He was a long way from the cocky, controlling Soren she remembered. That night in Ag 6 had transformed both of them. “Things aren’t any easier out here.”

“Does that mean yes?”

She nodded. “But only if you look after someone until you come out here.”

He froze. “Caleb? Done. Even though he’s a worthless piece of—”

“I wasn’t talking about Caleb.”

Soren blinked at her. “You mean the Savage’s nephew? The Outsider who broke my jaw?”

“He did it because you were attacking me,” she snapped. “Don’t forget that part. And you better think again if you’re coming Outside for revenge. Perry would destroy you.”

Soren put his hands up. “Easy, tigress. I was just asking. So what do you want me to do—babysit the kid?”

She shook her head. “Make sure Talon stays safe—no matter what. And I want to see him.”

“When?”

“Right now.”

Soren worked his jaw side to side as he stared down at her. “Fine,” he said. “I’m curious. Let’s go see the little Savage.”

Ten minutes later, Aria sat on the pier and watched as Talon taught Soren how to cast out. Athletic and competitive, Soren actually wanted to learn, and Talon picked up on that. As she watched them prattle on about bait, she felt unexpectedly optimistic. Somehow the two castoffs were getting along.

Soren had a fish on the line as she left them and moved through the commands to shut off the Eye. Aria slipped it back into her satchel and woke Roar.

It was time to meet Sable.

21

PEREGRINE

A week after the raid, Perry woke in the darkness. The house was still, his men lay scattered in slumbering mounds across the floor, and the first tinge of daylight bled through the cracks in the shutters.

He’d dreamed of Aria. Of the time months ago when she’d convinced him to sing to her. His voice rough and breaking, he’d sung the words of the Hunter’s Song while she listened, nestled in his arms.

Perry pressed his fingers to his eyes until he saw stars instead of her face. He’d been such a fool.

He pulled himself to his feet and wove past the Six to the loft. Gren still hadn’t returned from the journey to Marron’s, and as Perry had feared, the Tides were going hungry. He saw it in the new angles in Willow’s face. Heard it in the sharp edge in the Six’s voices. A constant ache had settled in his gut, and yesterday he’d needed to cut a new notch in his belt. He didn’t feel it yet, but he worried that weakness would come next.

Perry couldn’t spend any more effort on fields that might end up burning. Between overhunting and Aether storms, tracking game was nearly impossible. So they relied on the sea more than ever and managed, most of the time, to fill the cooking pots at the end of the day. No one complained about the taste of food anymore. Hunger had done away with that.

Their position by the coast was an advantage other tribes wanted. Reports came daily from his patrol of bands sniffing at the edge of his territory. Perry knew he couldn’t wait for Marron’s help anymore. He couldn’t wait for the next storm or the next raid. He needed to do something.

He climbed a few rungs until he could see into the loft. Cinder lay sprawled across the mattress, snoring softly. The night of the raid, he’d scurried up there, terrified and teary, and it had been his place ever since. His eyes twitched in sleep, a bead of drool slipping down the side of his mouth. His black wool cap was crumpled in his hand.

Perry was reminded of Talon then, though he wasn’t sure why. He guessed Cinder to be about five years older than Talon, and they were nothing alike in temperament. Perry had been with Talon every day of his life until he’d been kidnapped. He’d held Talon in his arms and watched him drift asleep, and seen him unfold, day by day, into a child who was gentle and wise.

He knew next to nothing about Cinder; the boy hadn’t breathed a word about his past, or his power. When he did speak, it was often to snap and bite. He was guarded and reactive, but Perry felt a bond with him. Maybe he didn’t know Cinder, but he understood him.

Perry jostled him lightly. “Wake up. I need you to come with me.”

Cinder’s eyes flew open, and then he climbed down with a clumsy, noisy thump.

Reef and Twig woke. Hyde and Hayden too. Even Strag did. They looked at one another, and then Reef said, “I’ll go,” and rose to follow Perry.

It was just as well. Perry had planned to ask Reef along anyway.

Since the raid, the Six were as protective over him as ever. Perry let them be. He grabbed his bow by the front door, glimpsing the scars Cinder had given him. Like everyone, Perry was made of flesh and bone. He burned and bled. He’d survived the raid and the Aether storm, but how many times would he cheat death? There was a time for risk and a time for caution. Always he struggled to choose between them, but it was something he was learning.

Aether spread across the sky in waves, blue and glowing. Thicker than he’d ever seen, even in the harshest winters. The sun would rise and the day would brighten a bit, but they would still be in the blue, marbled light.

With Cinder and Reef at his sides, Perry took to the northern trail beyond the compound, passing a field of dead wood that tickled his nose with fine ash and left Reef sneezing. Neither of them asked where Perry was taking them—for which he was grateful. With every step, his pulse beat faster.

He glanced at Cinder, who was anxious, his temper vibrant and green. They hadn’t talked about what had happened in the raid. Perry had taken him aside a few minutes a day and showed him how to shoot a bow. Cinder was terrible—skitty and impatient—but he tried. And he seemed to have grown closer to Willow, who’d likely saved his life. They sat together in the cookhouse now, and a few days ago Perry had run into them on the harbor trail and seen Willow wearing Cinder’s cap.

The dirt path narrowed as it wove farther away from the compound. The earth was uneven and rocky here, no good for farming, but it was a good place to hunt—it had been, when that was how he spent his days. After an hour, the trail cut west and brought them to a cliff overlooking the sea. Below, the bluff wrapped around a small cove. Black rocks of every size jutted up along the beach and out on the water.

Perry glanced back at Reef and Cinder. “There’s a cave down there that I need you to see.”

Reef pushed his braids back, looked at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher. Perry could’ve searched for his temper, but chose not to. He climbed down the craggy slope, over rocks and hard sand and tussocks of grass. He’d done this a hundred times with Roar and Liv and Brooke. This climb had meant freedom then. An escape from the never-ending chores at the compound, and the closeness of tribe life. Now, instead of feeling eagerness to reach a hideaway, he felt like he was heading into a trap.

Skitty with nerves, he realized he was moving too quickly, and had to force himself to slow down and wait for Cinder and Reef, who were upsetting small avalanches behind him.

When they reached the sand, he was out of breath, but not from the climb. The steep walls of the bluff curved around him in the shape of a horseshoe, and he could already feel the weight of the rock inside the cave pressing down on him. The surf crashed against the shore. It felt like it pounded inside his chest. He couldn’t believe what he was doing. What he was about to say—and show them.

“This way.” He led them to the narrow cleft in the rock face—the entrance to the cave—and slipped inside before he could change his mind. He had to lean at an angle to fit along the narrow crevice until the way opened into the vast main cavity inside. Then he stood and made himself breathe, in and then out, in and then out, as he told himself the walls wouldn’t fold on him. Wouldn’t crush him beneath unknown tons.

It was cold and damp in the dim cavern, but sweat ran down his back and along his ribs, dripping from him. A brackish smell flowed into his nose, and a hollow silence roared in his ears. His chest was tight—as tight as it’d been under the churning water the day of the Aether storm. No matter how many times he’d been there, it was always this way at first.

Finally he found his breath, and looked around.

Daylight streamed in behind him, enough for him to see the vastness of the space—of the wide, open belly of the cave. His gaze moved to a stalagmite in the distance: a formation shaped like a jellyfish, with dripping, melting tendrils. From where he stood, it looked small and only fifty yards off. It was actually many times his height and a hundred yards away. He knew, because he’d shot arrows at it from there. He and Brooke had. A year ago, he’d stood in the same spot with her while Roar whooped loudly, laughing at the way the sound echoed, and Liv wandered off, exploring the deeper reaches of the cave.

Reef and Cinder stood in silence beside him, eyes wide and scanning, glinting in the low light. He wondered if they could see what he saw.

Perry cleared his throat. It was time for him to explain. To justify something he hated and didn’t want to admit.

“We need a place to go if we lose the compound. I won’t wander the borderlands with the tribe, searching for food, for shelter from the Aether. This is big enough to fit us all.... There are tunnels that lead to other caverns. And it’s defensible. It won’t burn. We can fish from the cove, and there’s a freshwater source inside.”

Every word that came out of him felt like an effort. He didn’t want to say any of this. He didn’t want to bring his people underground, to this dark place. To live like the ghostlike creatures from the deep sea.

Reef looked at him for a long moment. “You think it will come to this.”

Perry nodded. “You know the borderlands better than I do. You think I want to take River and Willow out there?”

He pictured it. Three hundred people under an open, roiling sky, surrounded by fires and bands of dispersed. He imagined the Croven—cannibals in black capes and crow masks—surrounding them like they were a herd and picking them off one by one. He wouldn’t let it happen.

Cinder shifted his weight, watching them silently.

“We have to be prepared for the worst,” Perry continued, his voice echoing in the cavern. He wondered how it would be with hundreds of voices in there.

Reef shook his head. “I don’t see how you’re going to do this. It’s … a cave.”

“I’ll find a way.”

“This isn’t a solution, Perry.”

“I know.” It was a last resort. Coming there would be like standing on the prow of a ship as it sank. It wasn’t the answer. The answer would have to come with Roar and Aria. But this would buy time as the waters rose.

“I wore a chain once,” Reef said, after a long moment. “Much like yours.”

Surprise moved through Perry. Reef had been a Blood Lord? He had never said anything, but Perry should’ve seen it. Reef was so determined to teach him, to keep him from failing.

“It was years ago. A different time than this. But I know something of what you’re facing. I’m behind you, Peregrine. I would be, even without having sworn an oath to you. But the tribe will resist this.”

Perry knew that too. It was the reason he’d brought Cinder. “Give us a few minutes,” he told Reef.

Reef nodded. “I’ll be right outside.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Cinder asked when Reef had left them.

“No. You didn’t.”

Cinder’s scowl faded. “Oh.”

“I know you don’t want to talk about yourself,” Perry said. “I understand that. Pretty well, actually. And I wouldn’t ask you unless I had to. But I do have to.” He shifted his weight, wishing he didn’t have to press. “Cinder, I need to know what you can do with the Aether. Can you tell me what to expect? Can you keep it away? I have to know if there’s any alternative—any way at all to avoid this.”

Cinder was still for a moment. Then he took his cap off and slipped it through his belt. He walked deeper into the cave and turned, facing Perry. The veins at his neck took on the glow of the Aether, which seeped up over his face like water snaking through a dry river. His hands came alive. His eyes became bright blue points in the darkness.

Aether burned in the back of Perry’s nose, and his heart raced. Then, as gradually as it had brightened, the glow in Cinder’s veins faded away, the sting receding, leaving just a boy, standing there again.

Cinder pulled on his cap back, tugging it down and brushing wisps of straw-colored hair away from his eyes. Then he went still and watched Perry for a few moments, his gaze direct and open, before he spoke at last.

“It’s harder to reach it in here,” he said. “I can’t call it as easily as when I’m outside, right under it.”

Perry moved closer to him, eager to learn what he’d wondered for months. “What does it feel like?”

“Most of the time, like right now, I feel hollow and tired. But when I call it, I feel strong and light. I feel like fire. Like I’m part of everything.” He scratched his chin. “I can only hold on to it a little while before I have to push it. That’s all I can do is just bring it to me, and then push it away. I’m not very good, though. Where I’m from—Rhapsody—there were kids who were better at it than me.”

Perry’s heart thudded. Rhapsody was a Pod hundreds of miles away, past Reverie. “You’re a Dweller.”

Cinder shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t remember much from before I broke out of there. But I guess … I guess I could be. When I met you in the woods and you were with Aria? It didn’t seem like you hated her. That’s why I followed you. I thought maybe you’d be all right with me, too.”

“You thought right,” Perry said.

“Yeah.” Cinder smiled, a flash in the dimness that faded quickly.

A hundred questions buzzed Perry’s mind about how Cinder had escaped Rhapsody. About the other kids, who were like him. But he knew to tread lightly. He knew to let Cinder come to him.

“If I could help you with the Aether, I would,” Cinder said, the words sudden and blunt. “But I can’t … I just can’t.”

“Because it makes you weak afterward?” Perry asked, remembering the way Cinder had suffered after their encounter with the Croven. By calling the Aether, Cinder had destroyed the band of cannibals. He’d saved Perry’s life, and Aria and Roar’s too, but the act had left him cold as ice and drained to the point of unconsciousness.

Cinder looked past him, like he was worried Reef would be there.

“It’s all right,” Perry said. He could trust Reef with secrets—Cinder’s scent probably already had Reef suspicious—but Perry knew Cinder would only be at ease with him. “Reef’s outside, and he’ll stay there. It’s just us.”

Reassured, Cinder nodded and replied, “Every time, I feel worse afterward. It’s like the Aether takes part of me away with it. I feel like I can barely breathe, it hurts so much. One day it’ll take everything. I know it will.” He brushed away a tear from his cheek with an angry swipe. “It’s all I have,” he said. “It’s the only thing I can do, and I’m scared of it.”

Perry exhaled slowly, absorbing the information. Every time Cinder used his power, he gambled with his life. Perry couldn’t ask that of him. It was one thing to take chances with his own life. But he couldn’t put an innocent boy in that position. Not ever.

“You’re well if you don’t use it?” he asked.

Cinder nodded, his eyes downcast.

“Then don’t. Don’t call the Aether. Not for any reason.”

Cinder peered up. “Does that mean you’re not streaked at me?”

“Because you can’t save the Tides for me?” Perry shook his head. “No. Not at all, Cinder. But you’re wrong about something. The Aether isn’t the only thing you have. You’re part of this tribe now, no different from anyone else. And you’ve got me. All right?”

“All right,” Cinder said, fighting off a smile. “Thanks.”

Perry thumped him on the shoulder. “Maybe one day you’ll let me borrow your hat, if it’s all right with Willow.”

Cinder rolled his eyes. “That was … that wasn’t …”

Perry laughed. He knew exactly what it was.

Twig ran up on the trail as they returned to the compound. “Gren is back,” he said, panting for breath. “He’s brought Marron with him.”

Marron was here? It didn’t make sense. Perry had sent Gren for provisions. He hadn’t expected his friend to deliver them personally.

He stepped into the clearing and saw a filthy, weather-beaten group, roughly thirty in number. Molly and Willow were giving them water, and Gren stood with them, his face tight with worry.

Perry clasped his hand. “Good you’re back.”

“I ran into them on my way,” Gren said, “and brought them with me. I knew it was what you’d want.”

Perry scanned the crowd and almost missed Marron. He was a different person. Dirt coated his tailored jacket, the ivory silk shirt beneath rumpled and stained with sweat. His blond hair—normally perfectly combed—was matted and darkened by grease and dirt. His face was windburned and had lost all of its roundness. He had withered.

“We were overpowered,” Marron said. “There were thousands.” He took a gulping breath, fighting back emotion. “I couldn’t keep them out. There were just too many.”

Perry’s heart stopped. “Was it the Croven?”

Marron shook his head. “No. It was the Rose and Night tribes. They took Delphi.”

Perry studied the people with him. Men and women, huddled together. Half of them were children, so tired they swayed on their feet. “The others?” Marron had commanded hundreds of people.

“Forced to stay, some. Others chose to. I don’t blame them. I started with twice this number, but many turned back. We haven’t eaten—”

Marron’s blue eyes filled. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. It was folded in a perfect square, but the material was as rumpled and dirty as the rest of his clothing. He frowned at it like he was surprised to find it soiled, and returned it to his pocket.

His ragtag group watched in silence. Their expressions were dead, their tempers muted and lifeless. Perry realized this could happen to the Tides if they lost the compound and were forced into the borderlands. His doubts about the cave began to fade.

“We have nowhere else to go,” Marron said.

“You don’t need to go anywhere else. You can stay here.”

“We’re taking them in?” Twig asked. “How’re we going to feed them?”

“We are,” Perry said, though he didn’t know how. He barely had enough food for the Tides. But what could he do? He could never turn Marron away.

“Get them settled,” he told Reef.

He took Marron to his house. There, Marron’s temper deepened and deepened, becoming something immense, until finally his tears came. Perry sat with him at the table, deeply shaken himself. At Delphi, Marron had had soft beds and the finest food as often as he’d wanted. He’d had a wall protecting him, with archers posted day and night. He’d lost everything.

That night at supper—watered-down fish soup—Perry sat with Marron at the high table and looked across the cookhouse. The Tides wanted nothing to do with Marron’s people. They sat apart, at separate tables, glaring at the newcomers. Perry hardly recognized his tribe anymore. People came and people left. Both were unsettling to the Tides.

“Thank you,” Marron said quietly. He knew the strain he’d placed on Perry.

“No need for that. Tomorrow I plan to put you to work.”

Marron nodded, his blue eyes sparkling, filling with the sharp curiosity Perry remembered. “Of course. Ask anything.”

22

ARIA

Whatever Aria had expected from the Horns, it hadn’t been this. She absorbed their settlement in awe as she and Roar approached on a farm road. She had imagined Rim as a compound, like the Tides’, but this was so much more.

The road led them through a valley many times larger than the Tides’. Farmland stepped up mountain slopes that rose to soaring, snowcapped peaks. Here and there she saw the silvery scars of Aether damage. Sable had the same challenges Perry did with growing food. The realization gave her a perverse satisfaction.

In the distance she saw the city: a cluster of towers of varying heights nestled against the sheer side of a mountain. Balconies and bridges connected the towers in a chaotic network, giving Rim a sprawling, jumbled appearance that reminded her of a coral reef. A single structure loomed above the others, with a spired rooftop that looked like a spear. The Snake River skirted the near side of the city, forming a natural moat, with smaller structures and homes spilling along its banks.

Aether currents flowed bright and fast in the late morning sky, enhancing Rim’s severe appearance. The storm they’d been running from had followed them there.

Aria lifted an eyebrow. “It’s not the Tide compound, is it?”

Roar shook his head, his gaze locked on the city. “No. It’s not.”

As they neared Rim, the road grew crowded with people coming and going, carrying satchels and pushing carts. She noticed that the Marked wore specific clothing that revealed their arms, making their Senses known—vests for the men, and shirts with slits along the sleeves for the women. Adrenaline prickled in Aria’s veins as she ran a hand over her shirt, picturing the botched Marking beneath.

Roar kept close as they reached a wide cobbled bridge and slipped into the flow. Snatches of conversation drifted to Aria’s ears.

“… just had a storm days ago …”

“… find your brother and tell him to get home now …”

“… worse growing season than last year …”

The bridge brought them into narrow streets bordered by stone houses that were several stories high. Aria took the lead, following the main road. The way was tight, shadowed as a tunnel and crowded with people, their voices echoing off stone and stone and more stone. Gutters were strewn with filth, and a fetid scent carried to her nose. Rim was large, but she could already tell it was nowhere near as modern as Marron’s.

The streets climbed and turned, and then ended abruptly at the tower. Massive wooden doors opened to a stone chamber that flickered with torchlight. Guards in trim black uniforms with red stag horns embroidered on the chest watched the traffic of people who passed inside.

As she and Roar walked up, a hulking guard with a thick black beard blocked their path. “Your business?” he asked.

“We’re here from the Tides to see Sable,” she said.

“Stay here.” He disappeared inside.

It felt like an hour passed before another guard arrived, giving Roar a cursory look. “You’re Marked?” he asked. He had close-cropped dark hair, almost shaved, and an impatient look in his eyes. The stag horns at his chest were woven in silver thread.

Roar nodded. “An Aud.”

The guard’s gaze turned to her, his impatience disappearing. “And you?”

“Unmarked,” she answered. It was true, in part. She was Unmarked on one side.

The guard’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and then his gaze trailed down her body, settling at her belt. “Pretty pair of knives.” His tone was flirtatious and teasing.

“Thank you,” Aria answered. “I keep them sharp.”

His mouth curled in amusement. “Follow me.”

Aria exchanged a look with Roar as they stepped inside. This was it. No turning back now.

Inside, the wide hall smelled faintly of mold and rancid wine. It was cold and damp. Even with the wooden shutters thrown open, and lamps, the stone corridor was gloomy and shadowed. The faint chatter of voices carried to her ears, growing louder.

Roar prowled beside her, searching every person, every room they passed, with hunger in his eyes. Aria couldn’t imagine how he felt. After so many months of searching, he’d finally see Liv.

They crossed a wide threshold, entering a hall as expansive as the cookhouse at the Tides’ but with high, arched ceilings that reminded her of Gothic cathedrals. A meal was in progress. Dozens of guards were packed around the tables, a sea of black and red spreading out before her. Sable kept his military force close.

A stroke of luck, she thought. She’d been worried about Sable reading her temper. Maybe in such a crowd he’d miss scenting the fear swirling inside her.

“Which one is Sable?”

At the far end of the hall she saw a dais, where several men and women sat above the rest. None of the men wore a Blood Lord chain.

“I don’t see him,” said the guard. “But you might. He has short hair. Blue eyes. He’s about my height. Exactly my height, actually.”

The humor in his tone sent a chill crawling down her spine. She looked at the guard—at Sable—standing beside her.

He was older than she’d expected. In his thirties, she guessed. Average in height and build, with features that were refined and well-proportioned but somehow unremarkable. She’d have thought him bland if it hadn’t been for the look in his steel-colored eyes. That look—confident, cunning, amused—catapulted him from forgettable to appealing.

Sable smiled, obviously pleased with the trick he’d played on her. “I know you’re from the Tides, but I didn’t catch your names.”

She cleared her throat. “Aria and Roar.”

Sable’s eyes moved to Roar and narrowed in recognition. “Olivia has spoken of you.”

“Where is she?” Roar asked.

Seconds passed. The hall bustled with noise around them. Her pulse pounding, Aria watched Sable’s chest expand and contract with a breath and knew he was scenting Roar’s rage. His jealousy. A year’s worth of worrying about Liv.

“She’s close,” Sable said finally. “Come. I’ll take you to her now. What a reunion this will be.”

They exited the hall and moved back into the shadowed corridors. Aria tried to memorize their path, but the halls twisted and turned and then climbed narrow stairs and turned again. There were doors and lamps along the walls, but no windows or distinguishing marks to help her remember the way. A trapped feeling crawled over her, reminding her of a labyrinth Realm she’d been in once. An image of a dungeon flashed before her eyes, raising the hair on the back of her neck. Where was Sable keeping Liv?

“How is the young Blood Lord of the Tides faring?” Sable asked over his shoulder. She couldn’t see his expression, but the tone in his voice was light and casual. Aria had a feeling he knew Perry had lost part of his tribe. The question seemed to be a test more than a search for information.

“Faring,” Roar said tightly.

In the darkness Sable laughed, the sound smooth and engaging. “Carefully put.” He stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. “Here we are.”

They stepped out into a large stone-paved courtyard loud with the cheers of a crowd. Around her the castle—it was the best word she could come up with for Sable’s rambling stronghold—rose up hundreds of feet in the same disjointed arrangement of balconies and walkways she’d seen from afar. The sheer gray face of the mountain soared higher still, sharing the sky with the roiling web of Aether.

She followed Sable toward the crowd gathered at the center, her pulse racing, conscious of Roar moving beside her. Above the cheers, she heard the ting ting of clashing steel. The spectators parted when they saw Sable, stepping aside to let them through. Aria glimpsed flashes of blond hair up ahead.

And then she saw her.

Liv swung a half-sword against a soldier who was her size—nearly six feet tall. Her hair, dark and light streaks of blond, reached halfway down her back. She had wide-set eyes, a strong jaw, and high cheekbones. She wore leather boots, slim pants, and a sleeveless shirt that showed lean, defined muscles.

She was strong. Her face. Her body. Everything about her.

Her fighting style was all power, no hesitation. She fought like she was diving into the sea with every move. They’re very alike, Roar had once told her about Perry and Liv. Aria saw that now.

Liv looked comfortable and in control, hardly the captive Roar had imagined finding. Aria glanced at him and found his face ashen. She’d never seen him look so shaken. A surge of protectiveness moved over her.

Liv ducked to avoid a high, slicing blow from her opponent, but he followed with a forearm that caught her flush across the face. Her head whipped to the side. She recovered in an instant and stepped in where almost anyone would have rolled out, stunning the man with a punch to the gut. When he doubled over, she drove an elbow into the back of his head, unyielding, dropping him to his knees, where he stayed, coughing, reeling from the force she’d put behind the blows.

Smiling, Liv nudged his shoulder with her foot. “Come on, Loran. Stand. That can’t be all you’re good for.”

“I can’t. You cracked a rib. I’m sure of it.” The soldier lifted his head, looking their way. “Talk to her, Sable. She shows no mercy. It’s no way to train.”

Sable laughed—the same smooth, seductive sound Aria had heard in the corridors. “Wrong, Loran. It’s the only way to train.”

Liv turned, spotting Sable. Her smile widened for an instant. Then she saw Roar. Seconds passed, and she didn’t move. Didn’t look away. Unblinking, she reached up, sheathing her sword at her back.

As she walked over, all Aria could do was stare at a girl she’d been hearing about for months. A girl who controlled her best friend’s heart. Who had the same blood as Perry running in her veins.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. The blow she’d taken across the cheek had left a red welt, but the color had drained from the rest of her face. She looked as pale as Roar.

“I could ask you the same.” Roar’s words were cold, but his voice was hoarse with emotion, and the veins at his neck stood out. He was barely holding himself back.

Sable looked from one to the other, and smiled. “Your friends have come for the wedding, Liv.”

Aria’s blood went cold.

Sable saw her surprise. “Didn’t you know?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting. “I sent word to the Tides. You arrived just in time. Liv and I will be married in three days.”

Married. Liv was going to be married. Aria didn’t know why she was so shocked. It was the deal that had been made between Vale and Sable—Liv’s hand in marriage in exchange for food—but something felt terribly wrong.

Then she saw how close Liv and Sable stood. How they stood together.

Sable reached up and brushed his thumb along the welt on Liv’s cheek. His touch lingered, his fingers sliding down her neck, the gesture slow and sensual. “This will be a perfect shade of purple by then.” He slipped his arm around Liv’s waist. “I’d punish Loran, but you’ve done it for me.”

Liv’s focus hadn’t left Roar. “You didn’t need to come here,” she said, but her meaning was clear: She didn’t want him there. Liv wanted to marry Sable.

Rage coursed through Aria. She bit the inside of her lip and tasted blood. Roar had turned to stone beside her. She needed to get him out of there. “Is there someplace we can rest? It was a long trip.”

Liv blinked, noticing her for the first time. She looked from Aria to Roar, her breathing focused. “Who are you?”

“Excuse my manners,” Sable said. “I thought you knew each other. Liv, this is Aria.” He motioned one of his men over. “Show them to the guest rooms by my quarters,” he said. Then he smiled broadly. “I’ll have supper arranged for the four of us later. Tonight we’ll celebrate.”

Aria’s room was cold and spare: a simple cot and a chair with a curling backrest made of stag horns. The only light came through a dingy beveled-glass window recessed deep in the stone wall.

Roar was given the room adjacent to hers, but he followed her inside. Aria pulled the door shut and wrapped her arms around him. His muscles were tense, trembling.

“I don’t understand. Liv let him touch her.”

She winced at the pain in his voice. “I know. I’m sorry.”

She had no better words to give him. She remembered the conversation they’d had days after leaving the Tides. She’d still felt the poison inside her, and she’d been in knots about leaving Perry. Roar had spoken to her of truth. He’d lost a truth today, just as she had months ago when she’d learned she was half Outsider. Her life had rested on a pillar that had suddenly vanished, and she still hadn’t found her balance. Nothing she said would help him, so she stood with him and held him until he was ready to stand on his own again.

When he drew away, the anger in his brown eyes chilled her. She grasped his hand. Roar, don’t do anything to Sable. He’s expecting it. Don’t give him a reason to hurt you.

He didn’t answer her. For once she wished she could hear his thoughts.

He shook his head. “No. You don’t.” He moved away, sitting against the door.

She sat on the bed and looked around the small room. She didn’t know what to do. For the past two weeks, she’d raced to get here. Now that she was here, she felt trapped.

Roar pulled his knees up, resting his head in his hands. His forearms were flexed, his hands fisted. In hours, they’d have dinner with Liv and Sable. How would it feel to sit across a dinner table from Perry and another girl? To watch him touch her cheek, the way Sable had touched Liv’s? How would Roar bear it? In their plans, she and Roar had never spoken about leaving Rim without Liv. Not once had they imagined she’d want to stay.

Aria pulled her satchel into her lap, feeling the small lump inside the lining. Earlier, she’d wrapped the Smarteye in a cloth, with a handful of pine needles to mask the synthetic scent of the device, in case Sable searched their things. She heard the heavy footfalls of guards moving through the corridors, and the door didn’t have a lock. While she was there, contacting Hess—or Soren—would be too dangerous.

It was said that Sable despised Dwellers. She didn’t want to find out.

She rummaged around until she found the falcon carving. An intense pang of longing hit her as she brought it out. She imagined Perry as he’d been the night of her Marking ceremony, leaning against Vale’s door with his thumbs hanging on his belt. She pictured his narrow hips and wide shoulders, and the small tilt of his head. His focus completely on her. Whenever his eyes were on her, she felt so completely seen.

She held the image in her mind, and pretended she could speak with him through the figurine the same way she spoke with Roar.

We’re here, but it’s a mess, Perry. Your sister … I really wanted to like her, but I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t. Maybe I was wrong to leave without you. Maybe if you were here, you could talk Liv out of marrying Sable and help us find the Still Blue. But I promise I’ll find a way.

I miss you.

I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

Be ready, because when I see you, I’ll never let you go again.

23

PEREGRINE

My word, Peregrine,” Marron said. He craned his neck, staring in wonder at the cavern. “What a place.”

Perry had brought him there first thing in the morning, explaining the Tides’ situation along the way, holding Marron’s arm as they climbed down the bluff. Now he concentrated on breathing evenly as he followed Marron’s lead deeper inside.

“It’s not ideal,” Perry said, raising the torch in his hand higher.

“Ideals belong in a world only the wise man can understand,” Marron said quietly.

“That would be you.”

Marron met his gaze and smiled warmly. “That would be Socrates. But you’re also wise, Perry. I had no plan for losing Delphi. I regret that very much.”

They fell into silence. Perry knew Marron was thinking about the home and the people he’d lost. Months ago, Perry had watched Roar and Aria train with knives on the rooftop at Delphi. He’d kissed her for the first time there.

Perry cleared his throat. His thoughts were slipping to a place he didn’t want to go. “I want to bring the tribe here before we’re forced out. We should leave the compound on our terms.”

“Oh, yes,” Marron agreed. “We’ll need to start preparing right away. We’ll need freshwater, light, and ventilation. Heat and storage for food. The access is poor, but we can improve it. I could design a pulley to lower heavier supplies.”

His list continued. Perry listened, finally recognizing the man he knew: gentle, meticulous, brilliant. He wondered how Marron could ever have thought himself a burden.

When he returned to the compound, Perry called a meeting in the cookhouse to tell the tribe about his plan to move them to the cave. As he’d expected, they reeled under the news.

“I don’t see how we can survive there for any length of time,” Bear said. His face was red, and sweat beaded on his forehead. He was angrier than Perry had ever seen him. “We’ve managed the Aether during the winters,” he continued. “It’s like you’re expecting the worst. Like you’ve given up.”

“I’m not expecting the worst,” Perry said. “The worst is happening. If you want proof, go outside and take a look at the sky, or at the acres that have burned over the past month. And this isn’t like winter. We won’t be able to ride this out. Sooner or later we’ll face another tribe, or another storm, that will level us. We have to make the first move—before that happens. We need to act now, while we still can.”

“You said you were going to take us to the Still Blue,” said Rowan.

“When I know where it is, I will,” Perry said.

Rowan shook his head in frustration. “What if we’re forced out of the cave?”

“Then I’ll figure something else out.”

After an hour of hearing the same complaints, Perry cut off the meeting. He ordered part of Bear’s workforce to help Marron with the cave. Then he watched Bear storm out and the rest of the cookhouse empty. In a daze, Perry crossed the clearing to his home, needing a moment alone to think about his decision.

He went to the window, where Talon’s carvings rested, and braced himself against the sill. There were seven figurines there. Seven, lined up in the same direction. He turned the one at the center the other way, so it faced outside. As Blood Lord, was his responsibility to follow the will of the majority? Or was it to guide them toward what he knew—what he believed to be best for them? He’d chosen the latter. He prayed he was right.

He spent the rest of the afternoon helping at the cave. Marron was organized, efficient, and comfortable handling a large project. Bear didn’t show up, but the people Perry had chosen to work there warmed to Marron quickly. As Perry made the hour-long walk back to the compound, he told Marron so.

“They’ve come around to me because you did first. You’re the one who’s shown them the way.”

Yeah, Perry thought. To a cave.

Their conversation turned to people who’d served Marron at Delphi. Slate and Rose had been held captive. If Perry and Marron could find a way to bring them and any others to the Tides, they would. They talked until Perry spotted Reef rushing toward him on the trail near the compound.

“What’s going on?” Perry asked.

Reef scratched his chin. He looked like he was trying not to smile. “Wait until you see what just showed up,” he said as they fell in step.

Perry’s gaze went immediately across the clearing as they entered the compound. A girl with hair the color of copper stood on the eastern approach. In the last light of day, he saw a caravan of wagons stretching out behind her. Perry estimated roughly forty people either on horseback or on foot. They had the look of warriors—strong and armed with weapons.

“It’s the second half of Sable’s payment for Liv,” Reef said at his side.

Twig jogged over and made a high-pitched sound that was close to a giggle. “Perry, that’s all food!”

Perry’s gaze moved back to the caravan as he walked up. Stunned, he tallied eight horse-drawn carts, ten head of cattle. He heard goats. On a gust he scented herbs, chicken, grain. His mouth began to water as he suddenly felt the full brunt of the hunger he’d grown used to fighting off.

“I’m Kirra,” said the red-haired girl. “I bet you’re happy to see me. Sable sent a message. He’s pleased to honor the agreement he made with Vale for Olivia’s hand in marriage, though he didn’t have to. He didn’t say the last part, but he should have.”

Perry hardly listened to her. His heart raced as he realized that everything he saw was for the Tides.

Marron appeared at his side, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “Oh, my goodness. Peregrine, this will help.”

Bear and Molly walked up with Willow and Old Will. Others were coming out of the cookhouse, gathering around. The air filled with their elated tempers, slashes of vibrant color shimmering at the edges of his vision. The relief was so potent—his own, the tribe’s—that Perry’s throat tightened with emotion.

The girl lifted an eyebrow. Her red hair whipped in the wind, fire in the glow of sunset. “Still time to get a meal together if we unpack now.”

Perry’s gaze fell to the Marking on her arm. He blinked. Blinked again as it sank in. A Scire. She was like him. He looked at her, curious now. Apart from his sister, he’d never known a female Scire. Theirs was the rarest Sense. It was one of the reasons Liv’s marriage had needed to be arranged.

“What was your name?” he asked.

“Kirra. I told you that already.”

“Right … I missed it before.”

She had a full, round face that gave her an innocent look, but the curves of her body erased that impression. So did the teasing glint in her eyes. She looked a few years older than him, he guessed, and her scent was mellow and slightly cool, reminding him of autumn leaves.

“Did you say my sister married Sable?” he asked.

“I’m sure by now.”

Perry turned back to the wagons. Liv had always been his. As the oldest, Vale had been groomed by their father for Blood Lord. But he and Liv had been left to themselves. Perry couldn’t believe it. She belonged to someone else now. Liv, who was quick to laugh, quick to anger, quick to forgive. Liv, who did nothing in part and everything in full, was married.

As much as he’d believed she should do her duty to the Tides by marrying Sable, he’d never expected that she actually would. His sister had always been unpredictable, but this was her greatest surprise of all. She’d run off, disappeared, and then ended up doing what had been asked of her all along.

Perry’s stomach clenched as he thought of Roar. How would he react when he found out?

“Well?” said Kirra, pulling him from his thoughts. “It’s getting late. Should we unpack?”

Perry ran a hand over his jaw, and nodded.

It was done. Liv was married. He couldn’t change it now.

24

ARIA

That night, Aria and Roar were escorted to a wide dining room. Candlelight and silver glimmered on a long dinner table. A centerpiece of twisting willow branches rose out of a huge vase, casting spindly shadows across the ceiling. Along one side of the room, doors opened to a balcony. Rust-colored drapes stirred in the wind, revealing glimpses of the churning Aether sky.

Roar scanned the room. “Where’s Liv?” he asked as they stepped inside.

Sable rose from the table. He wore his Blood Lord chain now, a fantastic, shining collar spotted with sapphires that sparkled against his deep gray shirt. The chain transformed him, enhancing the blue in his eyes and the confidence in his smile. Aria wondered how she’d ever mistaken him for ordinary. He looked comfortable with the chain. At ease with power. She realized she’d never had the same thought about Perry.

“Liv is running late,” Sable said. “She seems to like making me wait.”

“Maybe she’s avoiding you,” Roar said.

Sable’s mouth lifted in a small smile. “I’m happy you’re here. It’ll be good for Liv to have a childhood friend at our wedding.”

“She told you we’re friends?” Roar asked with a smirk. He couldn’t seem to stop himself.

Sable replied smoothly, but his stare was cruel. “I know what you were. That’s what she said you are.”

A gust blew into the room and lifted a corner of the tablecloth, upsetting a pewter goblet. It clattered onto the stone floor. Neither Sable nor Roar moved.

Aria stepped between them. “It looks like the storm will break soon,” she said, striding to the balcony. It was a blatant attempt at diversion, but it worked. Sable followed her.

The wind lifted her hair off her shoulders as she stepped past the drapes. She walked to the low stone wall that edged the balcony, hugging herself against the cold. The rugged exterior of the fortress dropped several stories to the Snake River directly below. Aether light shimmered across its dark surface.

Sable appeared beside her. “It’s beautiful from a distance, isn’t it?” he said, staring at the Aether. The flows were taking on a twisting, spooling shape. Soon the funnels would drop. “Very different when you’re right beneath it.” He looked at her. “You’ve been in a storm before?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so. I scent your fear, but I could be wrong. Maybe you fear something else. Are you afraid of heights, Aria? It’s a long way down.”

A shiver ran through her, but her voice was even when she answered. “I’m fine with heights.”

Sable smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me. You said you were from the Tides?”

He was prodding her with questions. Scenting her tempers and seeking her weakness. “I came from there, yes.”

“But you didn’t know Liv before today.”

“No.”

He watched her again, going still, intent. She could see his thoughts turning, his curiosity honing on her. She didn’t think she could stand it any longer when Liv’s voice drew his attention back inside. Sable shifted slightly, but he didn’t go to her.

“Where’s Sable?” Liv asked Roar.

Aria saw her through the gap in the drapes. Liv looked like a different person from the girl she had seen earlier. She wore a Grecian dress in a burnished orange color that enhanced the bronze of her complexion. A green rope looped around her waist, and she’d swept her thick blond mane up off her shoulders.

“What happened to you?” Roar asked her.

“I couldn’t figure out the belt,” Liv answered blithely.

“I wasn’t talking about the dress.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you—”

“Roar, stop,” Liv said sharply. She moved to the table and sat.

Roar followed, crouching at her side. “Are you going to ignore me? Are you going to act like there’s nothing between us?” He’d lowered his voice, but Aria could hear everything he said. The stone room was like a stage, amplifying the sounds and pushing them outside to where she and Sable stood, watching in the darkness. She wondered if Sable could hear him too.

“Olivia,” Roar said urgently, passionately. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m waiting for food,” she said, staring straight ahead. “And Sable.”

Roar cursed, jerking away from her like he’d been pushed.

Sable laughed softly at Aria’s side. “Shall we?” he said, returning inside. He went to Liv and kissed her on the lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered before he straightened.

A blush crept over Liv’s cheeks. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“Why?” said Sable, taking a seat by her side. He looked at Roar, amusement in his eyes. “I doubt anyone here would disagree.”

Aria’s stomach twisted. Roar looked ready to spring forward and rip Sable to pieces. Pulse racing, she glanced at the guards standing by the door. Both men locked eyes with her. They were watching everything.

When Roar took the seat beside her, she brushed her arm past his and sent him a quick warning. Roar, stay with me. Stay calm—please.

Across the table, both Sable and Liv noticed the gesture. The room had no secrets. Every whisper was heard. Every shift in emotion scented.

Darkness settled in Liv’s green eyes. Was it jealousy? How could she dare feel that? She was marrying Sable. She had no right to feel possessive over Roar.

Servants brought out platters of roast ham and vegetables. Aria somehow felt both hungry and nauseated. She took a piece of bread.

They ate in uncomfortable silence for a few moments. Aria’s gaze kept returning to Roar’s hand on the knife beside her. Roar and Liv wouldn’t look at each other. Sable watched everything.

“Was Perry happy with the food we sent?” Liv asked finally.

“The other half of the payoff?” Roar said, surprised.

“It’s called a dowry,” Liv said sharply. “You sent it, didn’t you, Sable?”

“The day I promised,” Sable said. “The Tides have received it, I’m sure. It must have arrived after your friends left. I sent forty of my best warriors there as well. They’ll stay and help however your brother needs them.”

Liv looked at him. “You did?”

Sable smiled. “I know you worry about him.”

Aria felt her last trace of hope for Roar fade. The deal was done. Liv belonged to Sable. They just needed the wedding ceremony now. It seemed like a formality.

“Did Perry send a message for me?” Liv asked.

Roar shook his head. “We had to leave quickly, so he didn’t have a chance. Even then, I’m not sure he would have sent word.”

“Why?” Liv said. “Has he lost his tongue?”

“He blames himself for what happened to Vale, Liv.”

She scowled. “I know what Vale did. I know who my brother was. How hard is it to send a message?”

“That’s a good question,” Roar said. “How hard is it to send a message? Perry hasn’t heard from you in a year. Maybe he’s afraid he’s lost you. Maybe he thinks you don’t care about him anymore. Do you, Liv?”

Liv and Roar stared at each other, unblinking. Obviously, this was no longer about Perry. Aria felt like she and Sable had disappeared from the room.

“Of course I love him,” Liv said. “He’s my brother. I’d do anything for him.”

“Touching, Liv.” Roar pushed back from the table. “I’m sure Perry will be happy to hear that.” His steps were silent as he left.

Alone with Liv and Sable, Aria suddenly felt like an intruder. The wind had blown out the candles at their end of the table. In the weaker light, Liv’s dress looked cold, like red clay. Everything looked gray and cold.

“I’ll have your brother brought here,” Sable said, reaching for Liv’s hand. “We can hold the wedding until then. Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

Liv smiled at him, a quick, shaky flash. “I’m sorry … I’m not hungry,” she said, and left the room.

Aria waited for Sable to go after her. He didn’t. He plucked a fig from his plate and ate it, watching her as he chewed.

“I know why Roar is here,” he said. “Why are you?”

His words were casual, but the look in his eyes was penetrating. Aria glanced at the door, gauging the distance, instinct telling her to leave now.

Sable’s hand shot out and clasped her wrist. With her free hand, Aria snatched a knife from the table. She held it facing down, ready for the strike she’d make at his neck. A killing strike. There would only be one shot against someone like him. But that wouldn’t help her. She needed him to talk.

Sable smiled and gave a slight shake of his head. His eyes were pale as glass at the center, and ringed with dark blue. “You don’t need that. I won’t hurt you unless you give me reason to.”

He slid his hand up her arm, pushing up her sleeve. His thumb ran over her skin, slow and firm, as he studied the ruined half Marking. Chills shot down her spine at the cold feel of his touch.

Sable stared deep into her eyes. “You’re a puzzle, aren’t you?”

Aria’s breath was caught in her throat. Sounds sharpened. The flap of the drapes, and the rush of the Snake River. The approaching footsteps in the hall. Was he seeing her hearing ability? Her life in Reverie and in the Realms, and everything else that she hid?

A guard with stringy blond hair entered. “The storm’s holding on path to Ranger’s Edge.”

Sable paid him no attention. “What do you want from me?” he said, his voice low and menacing.

She couldn’t lie. She couldn’t. “The Still Blue.”

Sable’s grip loosened. He let out a slow exhale and sat back. “And here I thought you so unique,” he said simply. Then he rose from his chair and left.

Aria couldn’t move for long minutes afterward. She hadn’t felt repulsed at being touched in months, since she’d first been cast out of Reverie. Pain woke in her arm. His grasp had been tighter than she’d realized. She set the knife down at last, returning it to its place beside the empty plate, fingers aching from gripping it.

Now what? Sable was suspicious of her. He’d pry until he learned the truth about who she was. Her life was in danger. Her mission was in danger. She drew a breath and stood. She wouldn’t let herself fail.

Aria passed the guards at the door, making her way back to her room. She noted the guards at posts and roaming the halls. Moving unseen would be difficult, but not impossible. She froze when she heard Sable’s voice. He sounded close, but she couldn’t tell for certain. Sounds bounced in strange ways along the meandering corridors. Heart thundering, she listened to him ordering the outskirts of Rim evacuated. Maybe the storm would spur him to discuss the Still Blue tonight.

Later, she told herself. She’d sneak out and learn what she could.

She wasn’t surprised to find someone waiting when she stepped into her room.

She’d expected Roar, but it was Liv.

25

PEREGRINE

That night, Perry sat at the high table, awed by the food passed before him. Ham served with raisins as gold as the sunrise. Walnut bread with warm goat cheese. Carrots cooked in honey and butter. Strawberries. Cherries. A platter with six kinds of cheeses. Wine or Luster, for those who wanted it. The aromas filled the cookhouse. Tomorrow the tribe would return to rations, but tonight they feasted.

He ate until his hunger cramps became the aches of a stuffed stomach. Every bite reminded him of the sacrifice Liv had made for the Tides. When he finished, he sat back and watched the people around him. Marron buttered a piece of bread with the same precision with which he did everything. Bear attacked the mountain of food before him, while Molly bounced River on her knee. Hyde and Gren vied for Brooke’s attention, Twig barely getting in a word between them.

Only hours earlier, he’d been in the same place, listening to them lash at him in anger.

Across the table, Willow elbowed Cinder. “Look. There’s not a single piece of fish anywhere.”

“Thank the skies,” Cinder said. “I thought I was going to grow gills.”

Willow laughed. Then Perry laughed, seeing Cinder’s ears turn red beneath his cap.

At the far end of the hall, Kirra ate with her group. They were a raucous bunch, big in their gestures. Every one of them seemed to have an explosive laugh. Perry’s eyes kept returning to Kirra. He’d set up a meeting with her later to learn of news from the other territories. Coming from the Horns, she might also know something about the Still Blue.

When they finished eating, Kirra’s group pushed aside a few tables, clearing space. Then the music began, guitars and drums playing lively tunes. Their good cheer caught like wildfire. The Tides joined in eagerly, and soon the hall filled with song and dancing.

“Did Cinder tell you about his birthday?” Willow asked.

Cinder shook his head. “Willow, no. I was joking about that.”

“I wasn’t,” Willow said. “Cinder doesn’t know when his birthday is, so it could actually be any day. And since it can be any day, then why not today? We’re already celebrating.”

Perry crossed his arms and tried not to laugh. “Today seems like the perfect day to me.”

“Maybe you could say something, you know, to make it official?”

“I can do that.” He looked at Cinder. “How old do you want to be?”

Cinder’s eyes went wide. “I don’t know.”

“How about thirteen?” Perry suggested.

“All right.” Cinder shrugged, but his temper warmed with emotion. This meant more to him than he was letting on, and how couldn’t it? He deserved to know his own age. To have a day to measure his life by. Perry was only sorry he hadn’t thought to do something like this sooner.

“As Lord of the Tides, I name this day your birthday. Congratulations.”

A grin spread over Cinder’s face. “Thanks.”

“Now you have to dance,” Willow said. She pulled him up, ignoring his halfhearted objections, and towed him into the crowd.

Perry sat back and scratched Flea under his muzzle, watching everything, relishing the lightness in his heart. Kirra hadn’t just brought food. She’d brought a reminder of better times. This was the hall as it should be. The Tides as he always wanted to see them.

It was late when the tribe disbanded for their homes. No one had wanted the night to end. Reef pulled Perry aside in the darkened clearing. Lamps were lit around them, swinging gently in a cool ocean breeze.

“Twenty-seven men and eleven women,” he said. “Ten Seers and five Auds among them, and you know about Kirra. Every one of them can handle a weapon, as far as I can tell.”

Perry had suspected the same thing. “You worried?”

Reef shook his head. “No. But just the same, I’ll stay back tonight.”

Perry nodded, trusting Reef to keep an eye on the newcomers. He almost ran Molly over as he turned to go. Marron had fallen ill, she told him. Nothing more than indigestion, but he’d be resting for the night. With Reef and Marron out, he’d be meeting with Kirra alone. Perry crossed the clearing to his house, not sure why that made him nervous.

A short while later, she knocked on his door and stepped inside. Perry rose from the chair by the fire. Kirra froze and scanned the empty room. She seemed surprised that no one else was there. “I gave my people the night to themselves. It’s been a long journey.”

Perry moved to the table and poured two cups of Luster, handing one to her. “They’ve earned their rest, I’m sure.”

Taking the drink, Kirra sat across the table, her eyes smiling as she watched him. She wore a tight shirt the color of wheat, the neck unbuttoned lower than it had been during supper. “We showed up at the right time,” she said. “Your tribe was hungry.”

“They were,” Perry agreed. He couldn’t deny that their situation was dire, but he didn’t like it being pointed out by a stranger.

“When will you return to Rim?” he asked. He wanted to send a message to his sister. How was Liv? He had to know that she was all right.

Kirra laughed. “You want to see me go already? I’m hurt,” she said with a small pout. “Sable wants me to stay. We’re here to help out as long as you need us.”

That caught him off guard. He took a drink, giving himself a moment to recover as Luster warmed his throat. Sable was rumored to be ruthless, and this wasn’t a time for generosity. Had Liv pressed him for more aid? He wouldn’t put it past his sister. Liv could be ruthless too.

Perry set down his cup. “Sable might want you to stay, but he doesn’t make decisions around here.”

“Of course not,” Kirra said, “but I don’t see why it’s a problem. We brought our own food, and you have plenty of room to board us. Sable is your brother now. Consider our help a gift from him.”

A gift? Help? Perry’s grip tightened on the cup. “Sable’s not my brother.”

Kirra took a sip of Luster, amusement glinting in her eyes. “I can imagine why you wouldn’t feel so, having never met him. Regardless, the advantage should be clear to you. I have the strongest fighters you can find, and my horses are trained to hold steady during storms and raids. We could help protect the compound for you. You won’t have to retreat to a cave.”

She’d heard. Though it was his choice and the best thing for the Tides, shame crept over him, heating his face. Kirra leaned forward and breathed in deeply, her gaze fixed on him. Her eyes were the color of amber—the same fiery color he scented in her temper. She was reading him, just as he was reading her.

“I’ve heard about you,” she said. “They say you broke into the Dweller Pod and that you defeated a tribe of Croven. They say you’re twice Marked—a Seer, but you see in the dark.”

“Talkative, whoever they are. In all this chatter you’ve been hearing, has anyone mentioned the Still Blue? Has my brother Sable told you where it is?”

“The land of sunshine and butterflies?” she said, sitting back again. “Don’t tell me you’re looking for it too. It’s a fool’s hope.”

“Are you calling me a fool, Kirra?”

She smiled. It was the first time he’d called her by name. Because she noticed, he did too. “A hopeful fool.”

Perry smirked. “The worst kind.” He was starting to wonder if everything she said would streak him. “You don’t think the Still Blue exists? Don’t you have any desire to live?”

“I am living,” she said. “I won’t be chased by the sky.”

They fell silent, watching each other. Her scent bristled with excitement. She didn’t look away, and he realized he couldn’t either.

“You’re in a vulnerable position,” she said, finally. “There’s nothing wrong with accepting a little help.”

Help. That word again. He was done. He couldn’t hear it one more time. “I’ll consider the offer,” he said, standing. “Is there anything else?”

Kirra blinked up at him. “Do you want there to be?” Her meaning couldn’t have been any clearer.

Perry went to the door and opened it, letting in the night air. “Good night, Kirra.”

She rose to her feet and walked over. Stopping less than a foot in front of him, she stared into his eyes as she inhaled.

Perry’s stomach clenched. She’d stirred his pulse, something he hadn’t felt in weeks. She’d know, but there was nothing he could do to hide it.

“Sleep well, Peregrine of the Tides,” she said, and then slipped out into the darkness.

26

ARIA

What are you doing here, Liv?” Aria asked, stepping into her room. She couldn’t keep the anger from her voice.

Liv rose from the bed. “I was looking for Roar. He wasn’t in his room.” The Greek dress looked rumpled now, falling off her shoulder, and she’d taken her hair down, but she looked stronger and more at ease than she had during dinner.

Aria crossed her arms. A lamp flickered by the bedside, lighting the chilly, cramped room. “He’s not here. As you can clearly see.”

“Just give him a message for me—”

“I’m not telling him anything for you.”

Liv smirked. “Exactly who are you?”

“A friend of Roar’s and Perry’s.” Aria bit the inside of her lip as soon as the words left her mouth. Friend felt like such a weak way to describe herself. She was much more than that—to both of them.

A smile spread across Liv’s face. “Ahh … you’re a friend of Perry’s. I should’ve guessed. You look like someone my brother would be friends with.”

“Time for you to leave.”

Liv gave a small laugh, making no move to go. “Does that surprise you? You can’t really think you’re the only girl who’s fallen for him.”

Aria felt her face heat with anger. “I know I’m the only girl he’s rendered to.”

Liv went perfectly still. Then she stepped close, her eyes boring into Aria. The welt from earlier disappeared against the redness of her cheeks. “I will kill you if you hurt him,” she said, her voice calm, unemotional. It wasn’t a threat. It was information. A consequence.

“I was thinking that same thing earlier.”

“You don’t know anything,” Liv said. “Tell Roar he has to leave. Right away. Before the wedding. He can’t stay here.”

“How can you act like he’s an inconvenience?” Aria spat, thinking of all the nights she’d spent talking with Roar about Liv. Hearing how wonderful she was. This girl was horrible. Selfish. Rude. “You ran off! You left him! He’s been looking for you for a year.”

Liv waved a hand, gesturing around the room. “Do you think I chose this? Do you think I want to be here? My brother sold me! Vale took away everything I wanted.” She glanced at the door, staring at it like she was deciding something, and then stepped closer. “You want to know what I’ve done for the past year? I worked every day at forgetting Roar. I shut out every smile, every kiss, every stupid, perfect thing he ever said to make me laugh. I buried all of it. It took me a year to stop thinking about him. A year to stop missing him enough to come here and face Sable.

“Roar is ruining everything by being here,” Liv continued. “I’m not strong enough. How can I forget him when he’s right in front of me? How can I marry Sable if all I’m thinking about is Roar?”

Tears brimmed in Liv’s eyes, and she breathed raggedly. Aria didn’t want to feel sympathy for her. Not when she’d hurt Roar as much as she had. “He’s here to bring you back, Liv. There has to be a way you can come back to the Tides.”

“Go back?” Liv said with a thin laugh. “Perry can’t repay the dowry. And I can’t run away from this any longer. I know what it’s like out there. I know the Tides need help, and Sable can give it. He’ll keep helping if we marry. How can I walk away from that? How can I leave if it means my family could starve—or die?”

Aria shook her head. She didn’t know. She let out a breath and sat on the bed as a sudden wave of exhaustion swept over her. Aether flashed through the small window, making the room flicker softly with blue light.

Liv’s problem felt uncomfortably familiar. Aria had been so focused on finding the Still Blue for Hess and on getting Talon back that she hadn’t let herself think about what would happen afterward. Would there ever be a way she and Perry could be together? The Tides had rejected her, and Reverie wasn’t even an option. Everyone, and everything, was against them.

Aria pushed away the thoughts. Worrying wouldn’t help anything. She looked up at Liv. “What about Sable?” She rubbed her wrist, feeling the echo of his grip.

Liv shrugged. “He’s not terrible.... I know … it’s not much of a way to think of the man I’m marrying, but it’s better than I’d hoped. I thought I’d hate him, and I don’t.”

She bit her bottom lip, hesitating, like she was deciding whether to say anything more. Then she came to the bed, sitting beside Aria. “When I got here earlier this spring, he was going to let me leave. He told me I could go whenever I wanted, but that since I’d finally arrived, we might as well get to know each other. I didn’t feel as trapped after he said that. It helped me feel less like a thing that was being passed around.”

Aria wondered if Sable had said that on purpose. Scires were known for manipulating people. But shouldn’t Liv have seen that?

“I don’t fawn over him,” Liv continued, “and he likes that. I think he sees me as a challenge.” She fiddled with the green rope around her waist. “And he’s attracted to me. The scent he gives off when I enter a room … it’s not something you can fake.”

Aria stared at the door, listening to footsteps outside fade. “Do you feel the same way about him?” she asked when it was quiet again.

“No … not the same.” Liv tied the ends of her belt into an elaborate knot as she thought. “When he kisses me, he makes me nervous, but I think it’s because it feels different.” She met Aria’s eyes. “I’ve never kissed anyone other than Roar, and that’s—”

She shut her eyes, wincing. “This is what I can’t have. I can’t sit here and remember how it feels to kiss Roar when I’m marrying someone else in days. He has to leave. It’s too hard for me like this, and I can’t stand to see him hurting.” She shook her head. “I hate that he makes me feel weak.”

Aria sat back against the iron headboard, remembering Perry on their last night together, bruised and beaten after a fight that had happened because of her. The next day, he lost part of his tribe. She didn’t feel weak because of him. She felt too powerful, like every choice she made had the potential to hurt him, and that was the last thing she wanted.

“Roar will move on,” Liv said quietly. Her eyes had softened, and Aria knew she’d read her temper. “He’ll forget about me.”

“You can’t really believe that.”

Liv bit her lower lip. “No,” she said. “I don’t.”

“Will you tell him the truth? Roar needs to know what you’re doing. He needs to know why.”

“You think it will help?”

“No. But you owe it to him.”

Liv watched her for a long moment. “All right. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” She scooted higher on the bed, drawing the blanket over her legs. The sounds of the storm filtered into the room, and a cold draft flowed in beneath the bedroom door. “How is my brother really doing?”

Just a short while ago, she had threatened Aria. Now she was close and relaxed. Lost in her thoughts. Hot and cold, Aria thought. She wondered if there was anything in-between with Liv.

Aria pulled the other side of the blanket over her. The last time she’d seen Perry, he’d been bruised and abandoned by so many people. By her. She hated knowing she’d added to his pain. “It hasn’t been easy.”

“It’s so much to do. So much to take care of,” Liv said. “He must be out of his mind missing Talon.”

“He is, but we’re getting Talon back,” Aria said before she could stop herself.

Liv frowned, her green eyes roaming over Aria’s face. “Where are you from?”

Aria hesitated. She had the feeling her answer would shape their relationship from that moment on. Should she risk telling Liv the truth? She wanted trust between them, and here, late at night and in the quiet of her room, she just wanted to be herself. She drew a breath and answered. “I’m from Reverie.”

Liv blinked at her. “You’re a Dweller?”

“Yes.... Well, a half Dweller.”

Liv smiled, a small laugh bubbling out of her. “How did that happen?”

Aria shifted to her side and rested her head on her arm, mirroring Liv. Then she explained how she’d been cast out of the Pod in the fall and met Perry. She told Liv everything that had happened at the Tides’, and how she needed to find the Still Blue to get Talon back. When Aria finished, Liv was silent, and the sounds of the Aether funnels had faded. Rim had seen the worst of the storm.

“I’ve heard Sable mention the Still Blue a few times,” Liv said. Her eyes were heavy with sleep. “He knows where it is. We’ll find out and get Talon back.”

We. Such a small word, but it felt huge. Aria felt a grounding, settling sort of thrill. Liv would help.

Liv studied her for a long moment. “So you don’t care what happened at the Tides’? That you were poisoned? You’re going back to my brother?”

Aria nodded. “I care, but I can’t imagine not going back to him.” Lyrics sprang into mind, well-worn in her singer’s memory. “‘Love is a rebellious bird that nobody can tame,’” she said. “It’s from an opera called Carmen.”

Liv narrowed her eyes. “Are you the bird, or is my brother?”

Aria smiled. “I think the bird is the connection between us.... I’d do anything for him,” she said, and realized that it really was that simple.

Liv’s gaze grew distant. “It’s a good saying,” she said after a long while. She yawned. “I’m going to sleep here. Sorry if I snore.”

“Sure, why don’t you stay? There’s plenty of room if neither one of us moves.”

“That won’t be a problem. I can’t move anyway. This dress is like wearing a tourniquet.”

“You tied the belt wrong. I’ve worn that style of dress before in the Realms. I could show you the right way.”

“No need. It’s a stupid dress.”

Aria laughed. “It’s not stupid. You look amazing in it. Like Athena.”

“Yeah?” Liv yawned again and closed her eyes. “I thought Roar would like it. All right. Show me how to tie the stupid dress tomorrow.”

Soon, as promised, Liv snored. It wasn’t loud. Just a soft purr that wove with the sound of the wind, lulling Aria to sleep.

27

PEREGRINE

What’s she doing up there?” Perry asked.

He stopped in the clearing and looked to the roof of his house. Kirra’s hair caught his eye like a red flag flapping in the breeze. The sound of hammers pounding carried down to him.

He’d spent the morning at the cavern with Marron, going over plans to grade the bluff that led to the cove. If they could create a switchback path, they’d be able to bring carts and horses down the slope. It would be far better than steps, so it was worth a try, but they’d need more help.

“You don’t know about this?” Reef said, beside him.

“No. I don’t.” Perry climbed the ladder to the roof. Kirra stood a dozen paces away, watching two of her men, Forest and Lark, rip up roof tiles. As he walked over, Perry’s anger built with every step. He felt more protective over this space than he did about his house. This was his perch.

Kirra turned to face him, smiling. She rested her hands on her hips and tipped her head to the side.

“Good morning,” she said. “I saw the crack in the ceiling last night. I thought we’d take care of it.”

She’d spoken louder than necessary, letting her voice carry. Her men looked over, sizing him up. They’d pulled off a section of stone tiles, exposing the battens beneath. Perry knew a dozen Auds in the clearing had heard her as well. It was no mystery what the tribe would think. Everyone knew that gap was above his loft.

He drew a breath, forcing down his rage. She was changing something that didn’t need to be changed. He’d watched the Aether through that gap for as long as he could remember, but he couldn’t stop the work now. The sliver that had been a few inches wide had grown to a hole more than a foot across, exposing the inner beams. Through it, he could see the blankets in his loft below.

“Bear told me about a few other things we could take care of while we’re here,” Kirra said.

“Take a walk with me, Kirra,” he said.

“I’d love to.” The sound of her voice—sweet as nectar—chafed at his nerves.

Perry felt the eyes of people on them as they came down the ladder and crossed the clearing together. He took the trail to the harbor, knowing he’d find it empty. It was too early in the day for the fishermen to be back.

“I thought we’d make ourselves useful,” Kirra said when they stopped.

It streaked him that she’d spoken first. “If you want work, come to me, not Bear.”

“I tried, but I couldn’t find you.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Does that mean you want us to stay?”

Perry had considered it all morning as he’d listened to Marron describe the work needed at the cave. He saw no reason to turn away a band of able-bodied people. If he was right about the Aether, they were on borrowed time.

“Yes,” he said. “I want you to stay.”

Kirra’s eyes widened in surprise, but she recovered quickly. “I was expecting you to fight me a little more. I wouldn’t have minded, actually.”

Her words were flirty, but her temper was difficult to read, an odd mixture of warm and cool. Bitter and sweet.

She laughed, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “You make me nervous, staring at me with those eyes.”

“They’re the only ones I have.”

“I didn’t mean that I don’t like them.”

“I know what you meant.”

She shifted her weight, her scent warming. “Right,” she said, her gaze wandering to his chest and then to the chain at his neck.

Her attraction to him was real—there was no hiding that—but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was trying to bait him.

“So where do you want us to work?” she asked.

“Finish the roof. I’ll show you the cave tomorrow.” He turned to go.

She touched his arm, rooting him in place. A shot of adrenaline pulsed through his body. “Perry, it’ll be easier if we can find a way to get along.”

“We are getting along,” he said, and walked away.

At supper, Kirra’s group was as rowdy as the previous night. The two men who had fixed the hole in Perry’s roof, Lark and Forest, came from the deep south, like Kirra did. They carried on loudly, telling jokes and stories back and forth in a battle of wits. By the time supper ended, they had the Tides cheering for more.

Kirra fit right in with the Tides. Perry watched her laughing with Gren and Twig, and then later with Brooke. She even spent time talking with Old Will, turning his face red beneath his white beard.

Perry wasn’t surprised by how quickly she gained the Tides’ acceptance. He understood how relieved they were to have her there and wished he felt the same way, but everything she said and did made him feel like a target.

Bear came over when the cookhouse had almost emptied, sitting across from Perry and wringing his huge hands. “Can we talk, Peregrine?”

Perry straightened his back at the formal tone in his voice. “Of course. What’s going on?”

Bear sighed and wove his fingers together. “Some of us have been talking, and we don’t want to move to the cave. There’s no reason for it now. We’ve got food—enough to get us on our feet again—and Kirra’s people to help defend us. It’s all we need.”

Perry’s stomach churned. Bear had questioned his decisions before, but this felt different. This felt like something more. He cleared his throat. “I’m not changing my plan. I swore an oath to do what’s right for the tribe. That’s what I’m doing.”

“I understand,” Bear said. “I don’t want to go against you. None of us do.” He stood, his thick eyebrows knotted together. “I’m sorry, Perry. I wanted you to know.”

Later, at his house, Perry sat around the table with Marron and Reef as the rest of the Six played dice. They were in high spirits from another night of music and entertainment, their hunger sated for the second day in a row.

Perry listened absently as they passed around a bottle of Luster, joking with one another. The conversation with Bear had left him uneasy. As much as Wylan’s departure had hurt, watching Bear turn against him would be worse. He liked Bear. Respected him. It was much harder failing someone he cared about.

Perry shifted the chain around his neck. Suddenly, loyalty felt like such a fragile thing. He’d never thought he would need to earn it day in and day out. Though he didn’t forgive his brother for what he’d done, Perry was beginning to understand the pressure that had forced Vale to sell off Talon and Clara. He’d sacrificed a few for the good of the whole. Perry tried to imagine trading Willow to the Dwellers for solutions to his problems. Just the thought made him sick.

“Snake eyes again. Damn dice,” Straggler said. He lifted the cup to reveal two ones on the table.

Hyde smirked. “Strag, I didn’t think it was possible to be as unlucky as you are.”

“He’s so unlucky it’s almost lucky,” Gren said. “It’s like he has reverse luck.”

“He’s reverse good-looking, too,” said Hyde.

“I’m going to reverse punch you,” Strag said to his brother.

“That was reverse smart, man. It means you’re going to punch yourself.”

Beside Perry, Marron smiled softly as he made notes in Vale’s ledger. He was designing portable furnaces that would provide both heat and light for the cave. It was just one of the things he had thought of that impressed Perry.

Reef sat back in his chair with his arms crossed, eyes heavy. Ignoring the game, Perry told him what Bear had said.

Reef scratched his head, pushing back his braids. “It’s because of Kirra,” he said. “She’s changed things around here.”

It wasn’t just because of Kirra, Perry thought. It was because of Liv. By marrying Sable, she’d given the Tides a chance. He wondered if she knew how much they’d needed it. He felt a sharp pang in his chest, missing his sister. Grateful for her. Sorry for the sacrifice she’d had to make. Liv had a new life now. A new home. When would he see her again? He shook the thoughts from his mind.

“So you agree with Bear?” he asked Reef. “You think we should stay here?”

“I agree with Bear, but I follow you.” Reef tipped his chin at the others around the table. “We all do.”

Perry’s stomach dropped. He had their support, but it was based on fealty. On a promise they’d made to him months ago on bended knee. They followed blindly, without seeing any wisdom in his thinking, and that didn’t feel right either.

“I agree with you,” Marron said quietly. “For what it’s worth.”

Perry nodded in thanks. It was worth a lot just then.

“What about you, Per?” Straggler asked. “You still think we should move?”

“I do,” Perry said, resting his arms on the table. “Kirra’s brought food and fighters, but she hasn’t stopped the Aether. And we have to be ready. For all I know, she could pack up and leave tomorrow.”

Instantly, he regretted his words. The game of dice halted, and an awkward silence fell over the group. He sounded paranoid, like he thought everyone ran off.

He was relieved when Cinder called down from the loft, breaking the silence. “I don’t like Kirra either.”

“Because she patched up the roof?”

Cinder peered over the edge, holding on to his hat to keep it from falling. “No. I just don’t.”

Perry had figured as much. Cinder knew Scires could scent the Aether on him. But with its sting always in the air now, he had nothing to worry about in Kirra.

Twig rolled his eyes and rattled the dice in the cup. “The kid doesn’t like anyone.”

Gren jabbed him with an elbow. “That’s not true. He likes Willow—don’t you, Cinder? And you’re one to talk, frog kisser.”

When the house was filled with sounds of six men—and one boy—croaking at the top of their lungs, Marron closed the ledger. Before he left, he leaned toward Perry and said, “Leaders need to see clearly in darkness, Peregrine. You already do that.”

An hour later, Perry rose from the table and stretched his back. The house was quiet, but outside, the wind had picked up. He heard its low whistle and saw the embers in the hearth glowing, struggling to rekindle.

Looking up to the loft, he searched in vain for the sliver of light that had always been there. Cinder’s foot hung over the edge, twitching in sleep. Perry climbed over Hayden and Straggler, opened the door to Vale’s room, and stepped inside.

It was cooler and darker in there. With the floor in the other room packed, it made no sense to leave this one unused, but he couldn’t do it. He’d never been able to bear being within those walls. His mother had died there, and Mila, too. The room brought only one good memory to mind.

He lay down on the bed, letting out a slow breath, and stared at the wooden beams of the ceiling. He’d gotten used to fighting against the pull, but now he didn’t. Now he let himself remember the way Aria had felt in his arms just before the Marking Ceremony, smiling as she asked if he ever missed anything.

His answer hadn’t changed. The truth was that no matter how hard he tried not to, he did miss her. Always.

28

ARIA

Liv smoothed her hands over the ivory silk of her wedding dress. “What do you think?” she asked. Her hair hung in tangled golden waves around her shoulders, and her eyes were puffy with sleep. “Is it all right?”

They were in Liv’s room, a large chamber with a balcony like last night’s dining room, just a few doors down along the same corridor. A fire crackled in a huge stone hearth to one side, and thick fur rugs covered the wooden floorboards.

Aria sat on the plush bed, watching a stout woman pin the hem of Liv’s dress. She was tired and wished she and Liv had fallen asleep here, instead of on her bed. A crisp morning breeze drifted in from outside, carrying the scent of smoke—a reminder of last night’s storm.

“Much better than all right,” Aria answered. The simple lines of the dress complemented Liv’s long, muscular figure and enhanced her natural beauty. She looked stunning. And nervous. Since she’d put the dress on half an hour earlier, Liv hadn’t stopped drumming her fingers against her legs.

“Hold still or I’ll prick you.” The seamstress spoke with pins pressed between her lips, her voice muffled and irritated.

“That’s not much of a threat, Rena. You’ve pricked me ten times already.”

“’Cause you’re wriggly as a fish. Hold still!”

Liv rolled her eyes. “I’m tossing you into the river once you’re finished.”

Rena huffed. “I may toss myself in well before then, dear.”

Liv was joking, but she looked paler by the second. Aria couldn’t blame her. She was getting married in two days, bound forever to someone she didn’t love. To Sable.

Aria glanced toward the door, her stomach knotted with anxiety. Roar still hadn’t reappeared since he’d left dinner last night.

The sound of voices out in the hall thrummed through the thick wood. She was learning her way around the twisting corridors. Sable’s chamber was nearby. Now that he knew she was after the Still Blue, it would be harder than ever for her to break away and search for information, but she would try later.

“What you said last night about the rebellious bird?” Liv said suddenly. “I agree with you.”

Aria sat up. “You do?”

Liv nodded. “There’s no taming it.... Do you think I’m too late?”

Too late to tell Roar she loved him? Aria almost let out a laugh of pure happiness. “No. I don’t think you could ever be too late.” For the next ten minutes, as the seamstress finished, she fidgeted as much as Liv, fighting to keep the smile from her lips. When Rena left and they were finally alone, she jumped off the bed and rushed to Liv’s side. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. He’s the only thing I’ve always been sure about. Help me get this thing off. I have to find him.” In seconds she changed out of the dress into worn brown pants, leather boots, and a white long-sleeved shirt. She twisted her hair behind her back, and pulled the leather holster with her half-sword across her shoulder.

They checked Roar’s bedroom and then Aria’s, finding both empty. Discreetly, Liv asked a few guards about Roar. No one had seen him.

“Where do you think he is?” Aria asked as Liv led her through the corridors.

Liv smiled. “I have some ideas.”

Aria’s ears tuned to the voices around her as they stepped outside and took to the shadowed city streets. She could gather information while they searched for Roar.

People took notice of Liv as they walked, recognizing her, nodding in greeting. Her height made her hard to miss. In a few days, she’d be a powerful woman—a leader, alongside Sable—and they admired her for it. Aria wondered how that would feel. Would she ever stand beside Perry, strong in her own right and accepted for who she was?

Everyone seemed to be speaking of last night’s storm. The southern fields of Rim still burned, and everyone wondered what action Sable would take. Aria asked herself the same questions. If his land was burning—if he was suffering under the Aether like everyone else—why hadn’t he left yet for the Still Blue? Why was he waiting?

“How big is the Horns tribe?” she asked Liv as they wove through a crowded market.

“Thousands in the city and more in the outer reaches. He has colonies, too. He likes to have the best and the most of everything. That’s why he doesn’t like Dwellers.” She looked at Aria, her shoulders rising in a small apologetic shrug. “He can’t buy your medicines or weapons, and he hates that. He despises anything that he can’t have.”

That made more sense than Wylan’s theory about a centuries-old grudge.

Aria’s mind whirred as she followed Liv. How would Sable move his entire tribe of thousands to the Still Blue? Not just people, but the provisions they’d need, while staying nimble enough to avoid Aether storms? She couldn’t figure out how he’d manage it. Maybe that was why he hadn’t done it yet.

Liv stopped in front of a slanted door with peeling red paint. The din of conversation drifted to Aria’s ears. “If Roar’s anywhere, he’s here.”

As they stepped inside, Aria took in the long tables packed with men and women. The honey-sweet smell of Luster hung in the musty air. “A bar.” She shook her head, but had to admit it was a good place to start. The first time she’d met Roar, he’d had a bottle of Luster in his hand. She’d seen the same thing many times since.

Roar wasn’t there, but they found him just two stops later. He sat at a table in a dark corner, alone. When he saw them, he winced and dropped his head.

He was still slouching as Aria walked up, his hands in fists on the table.

She sat down across from him. “You made me worry,” she said, striving for levity. “I hate worrying.”

He peered up at her with bloodshot eyes and flashed a quick, tired smile. “Sorry.” Then he glared at Liv, who’d taken a seat beside him. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting married?”

Liv could barely keep the smile from her lips. She reached over and rested her hand on top of Roar’s. He jolted, drawing away, but she held him in a tight grip.

Seconds passed. Roar went from staring at her hand to staring into her eyes, his face transforming from lost to found. From broken to whole.

Aria felt her throat tighten, and she couldn’t look at him anymore. Across the dimly lit bar, a man with sallow skin met her eyes, his gaze holding for a moment too long.

“Liv,” she warned quietly. They were being watched.

Liv drew her hand away, but Roar didn’t move. His eyes glossed with tears. He was holding his breath. Holding on to the last of his self-control.

“You almost killed me,” he whispered hoarsely. “I hate you, Liv. I hate you.”

It was such a lie. It was as far from the truth as words could be. Here, among Sable’s people, it was all he could say.

“I know,” Liv said.

A sour-faced older woman by the bar cut her eyes at Aria. Suddenly everyone seemed to be watching and listening. “We have to get out of here,” she whispered.

“Liv, you need to leave,” Roar said quietly. “Right now. It’s too much of a risk for you to stay. He’ll know how you feel.”

Liv shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t change anything. He knew the minute you showed up.”

Aria leaned toward them. “Let’s go,” she said, just as Sable’s guards burst through the door.

Aria and Roar were stripped of their knives and hauled back through the city streets. Seeing them treated like captives, Liv yelled and flew into a fury that fell just short of drawing her half-sword, but the guards didn’t relent. Sable’s orders, they told her.

Aria exchanged a worried look with Roar as they approached Sable’s looming fortress. Liv had said that Sable knew the truth of her feelings for Roar. She hadn’t seemed concerned. Their marriage was arranged; it had never been about love. But a hard pit of worry settled in Aria’s stomach.

They were taken past the great hall—now empty and silent—and through the winding corridors to the dining room with the bramble centerpiece and the rust-colored drapes. Sable sat at the table, talking with a man Aria recognized. He was bedraggled, spoons and trinkets hanging from his clothes. His teeth were few and crooked.

He looked vaguely familiar, like a figure she’d seen in a dream—or a nightmare. Then she remembered. She’d caught a glimpse of him during her Marking Ceremony. He was the gossip who’d been there the night she’d been poisoned.

A single thought blared inside her mind.

This man knew she was a Dweller.

When he saw them, Sable pushed back his chair and stood. He looked briefly at Liv and Roar, his expression even, almost disinterested, before turning to focus on her.

“Sorry to spoil your fun this afternoon, Aria,” he said as he walked toward her, “but Shade here has just shared some interesting facts about you. It seems I was right. You are unique.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs as he stopped in front of her. She couldn’t look away from his piercing blue eyes. When he spoke again, the cutting tone in his voice sent a chill up her spine. “Did you come here to steal what I know, Dweller?”

She saw only one possible move. One chance. She had to take it.

“No,” she said. “I’m here to offer you a deal.”

29

PEREGRINE

I hate this,” Kirra said.

Perry watched Kirra brush sand off her hands as he took a drink from his water skin. “You hate sand? I’ve never heard anyone say that.”

“You think it’s ridiculous.”

He shook his head. “No. More like impossible … like hating trees.”

Kirra smiled. “I’m indifferent toward trees.”

Along the dunes, their horses tugged at the sea grass.

They’d spent most of the day with Marron, assigning Kirra’s people to different tasks. Then Perry had shown Kirra his northern borders—he could use her people’s help on watch as well. Now they’d stopped for a quick rest along the coast before returning to the compound.

They needed to get back soon—a storm was building from the north—but he wanted just a few more minutes of not being Blood Lord.

Kirra had been easier to be around that morning. And with plenty of work to be done, she had a point about them getting along. He’d decided to give her a chance.

She leaned back on her elbows. “Where I come from, we have lakes. They’re quieter. Cleaner. And it’s easier to scent without all the salt in the air.”

It was the opposite for him. He preferred the way scents carried on moist ocean air. But then, that was what he’d always known. “Why did you leave?”

“We were forced out by another tribe when I was young. I grew up in the borderlands until we were brought in by the Horns. Sable’s been good to me. I’m his favorite for missions like this. I don’t complain. I’d rather be on the move than stuck in Rim.” She smiled. “Enough about me.” Her gaze fell to his hand. “I’ve been wondering how you got those scars.”

Perry flexed his fingers. “Burned it last year.”

“Looks like it was bad.”

“It was.” He didn’t want to talk about his hand. Cinder had torched it. Aria had bandaged it. Neither were things he wanted to share with Kirra. Quiet stretched out between them. Perry looked across the ocean, to where the Aether flashed deep on the horizon. Storms were constant now, out at sea.

“I didn’t know about the girl—the Dweller—when I first got here,” Kirra said after a while.

He resisted the urge to change the subject again. “So there’s something you hadn’t heard about me.”

She tipped her head to the side, mirroring him. “It sounds like I just missed her,” she said. “What if we’re the same person? Maybe I’m her in disguise.”

That surprised him. He laughed. “You’re not.”

“No? I bet I know you better than she did.”

“I don’t think so, Kirra.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Really? Let’s see.... You worry about your people, and it’s a deep worry, more than the responsibility of wearing the chain. Like taking care of other people is something you need to do. If I had to guess, I’d say protection and safety are things you never knew yourself.”

Perry forced himself not to break eye contact with her. He couldn’t blame her for knowing what she did. She was like him. It was the way they took in people. Down to the core of their emotions. Down to their deepest truths.

“You have a strong bond with Marron and Reef,” she continued, “but your relationship with one is harder on you than the other.”

True again. Marron was a mentor, and a peer. But sometimes Reef seemed more like a father—a connection that had never felt easy.

“Then there’s Cinder,” she said. “You’re not rendered to him, as far as I can tell, but there’s something powerful between you.” She paused, waiting for him to comment, and continued when he didn’t. “What’s really interesting is your temper around women. You’re obviously—”

Perry gave a choked laugh. “All right, that’s enough. You can stop now. What about you, Kirra?”

“What about me?” She sounded calm, but a vibrant green scent reached him, shimmering with anxiety.

“For two days you’ve been trying to draw me in, but today you’re not.”

“I’d still try to draw you in if I thought I stood a chance.” She said it plainly, no apology. “Anyway, I’m sorry about what you’re going through.”

He knew he was being baited, but he couldn’t help himself. “What I’m going through?”

She shrugged. “Being betrayed by your best friend.”

Perry stared at her. She thought Aria and Roar were together? He shook his head. “No. You heard wrong. They’re just friends, Kirra. They both had to go north.”

“Oh … I guess I just assumed, since they’re both Auds, and they left without telling you. Sorry. Forget I said anything.” She looked up at the sky. “That’s looking bad.” She stood, brushing off sand from her hands. “Come on. We should head out.”

As they rode back to the compound, Perry couldn’t block out the images.

Roar lifting Aria into a hug that first day, at his house.

Roar standing at the top of the beach, joking after Perry had been kissing Aria. That was killing me too, Per.

A joke. It had to have been a joke.

Aria and Roar singing in the cookhouse the night of the Aether storm. Singing perfectly, like they’d done it a thousand times before.

Perry shook his head. He knew how Aria felt toward him—and how she felt toward Roar. When they were together, he scented the difference.

Kirra had done this to him on purpose. She’d planted the idea to throw him into doubt, but Aria hadn’t betrayed him. She wouldn’t do that, and neither would Roar. That wasn’t why she had left.

He didn’t want to think about the real reason why. He’d pushed it back, where he’d kept the thought for weeks, but it wouldn’t stay. Wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t let him go.

Aria had left because she’d been poisoned. She had left because there—in his home, right under his nose—she’d almost been killed. She had left because he’d promised to protect her, and he hadn’t. That was why.

Because he’d failed her.

30

ARIA

It’s called a Smarteye,” Aria said, holding the device in her trembling hands. She sat at the dining table with Sable, a steady rain pattering outside on the stone balcony. Night was falling, and she heard the Snake River, swollen with rainwater, rushing far below.

“I’ve heard of them,” Sable said.

Aria remembered the look in his eyes from the last time they’d sat at that table. He’d snatched her wrist then. He’d hurt her with no hesitation.

Liv sat in silence beside him, her face emotionless. At the far end of the room, Roar looked calm, leaning against the wall, but his gaze moved from Sable to the guards by the door, calculating and intense.

Aria swallowed, her throat tight and dry. “I’ll contact Consul Hess now.”

She’d never felt more self-conscious as she applied the device. Even the guards by the door stared at her. At least Sable had sent the scraggly gossipmonger away.

When she fractioned, she appeared in Hess’s office again. He stood by the wall of windows behind his desk. Like before, she saw the even levels of the Panop and felt the same twist of homesickness.

“Yes?” he said impatiently.

“I’m here with Sable.”

“I know where you are,” Hess said, his irritation plain.

“I mean he’s here,” she said. “Sable is in front of me right now.”

Hess came around his desk, suddenly focused. Alert. She continued. “He knows where the Still Blue is, but he needs transportation. He says he’s open to a trade.”

Aria heard herself speaking, the sound of her own voice oddly far away. In the real, she felt the wooden back of the chair pressed against her spine, the sensation dull and distant. She was in Sable’s dining room and Hess’s office, but everything felt unreal. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Sable offered to negotiate?”

Aria shook her head. “No. It was my idea. I took a guess at what he needed, and I know what we have.” She’d seen the hangar lined with Hovercraft months ago in Reverie, the day she’d been left on the outside. “I followed a hunch,” she said. “I had to—and I was right.”

Hess watched her for a long moment, eyes narrowing. “Transport to where and for how many?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Sable wants to talk with you directly.”

“When?” he asked.

“Now.”

Hess nodded. “Give him the Eye. I’ll do the rest.”

Aria fractioned out, but she didn’t take the Smarteye off yet. In the real, Sable’s gaze held on her. Keeping her breathing steady, she chose the Phantom mask.

Soren spoke as soon as she joined him at the opera hall. “I’m on it.”

“You’ll record their meeting? I want to know everything they say, Soren. I want to see it myself.”

“I already said I would.” A grin spread across his face. “Not bad, Aria. Not bad.”

Aria fractioned out and took off the Smarteye, holding it in the palm of her hand. Her fingers still shook, and she couldn’t get them to stop. “It’s set up,” she said to Sable. “Hess is waiting for you.”

Sable held out his hand, but she hesitated, suddenly feeling possessive over the device. She’d helped Perry into the Realms willingly last fall, but this felt different. Like she was inviting a stranger into something private. She had no choice. Sable would give Hess the location of the Still Blue in exchange for transport. Her part of the deal would be done. She’d be able to get Talon back and be free of Hess.

She handed it to Sable. “Place it over your left eye, like I did. It’ll pull tight to your skin. Stay calm, breathe slowly, and you’ll adjust. Hess will bring you into a Realm once the device is activated.”

Candlelight reflected on the device as Sable examined it. Satisfied, he applied it over his eye. Aria saw his shoulders stiffen as the biotech worked, and then relax as he adjusted to the gentle pressure. Moments later he grunted softly, his focus growing distant, and she knew he’d fractioned to the Realms. He was with Hess. There was nothing to do now but wait.

Aria relaxed in her chair and imagined the negotiations happening right then between Sable and Hess. Who would hold the upper hand? She’d see everything later, thanks to Soren. She’d never have expected to have him as an ally on the inside.

Minutes passed in silence before Sable jerked upright. He looked around the room, and then removed the Smarteye. “Unbelievable,” he said, staring at the device in his hand.

“What did Hess say?” she asked.

Sable drew a few slow breaths. “I told him what I need. He’s looking into it.”

“So we wait?” Aria asked. “How long?”

“A few hours.”

She gasped. That was soon. She couldn’t believe the plan was working. She felt like she’d just taken her first step back toward the Tides. Toward Perry.

Sable rose from the table. “Let’s go, Olivia,” he said, walking to the door.

Aria shot to her feet. “Wait,” she said. “The Smarteye. I’ll bring it back when it’s time.”

He turned back to her. “No need. I’ll keep it.”

Liv came to her side. “Sable, it’s hers.”

“Not anymore,” he said, and then spoke to the guards by the door. “Keep them here overnight. I might still have need for the Dweller. Then see them out of the city at first light.” Sable’s steel-blue eyes moved to Liv. “You understand, I’m sure, why your friends can’t stay.”

Liv glanced at Roar, who stood a few feet away, frozen. “I understand,” she said. Then she followed Sable from the room without a backward glance.

Hours later, Aria sat at the table with Roar, watching the rust-colored drapes stir in the wind. The dining room was cloaked in darkness, the only light coming through the open balcony doors. Every so often, she heard the muffled voices of the guards posted in the corridor.

She rubbed her arms, feeling numb. Sable had surely met with Hess again by now. He had used her and discarded her. She shook her head. He was just like Hess.

Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving the stones on the balcony slick, reflecting the glow of the sky. From where she sat, she could see currents of Aether. Bright rivers, flowing against the darkness. They’d see another storm soon. It didn’t shock her anymore. Eventually, the storms would come every day, and it would be just like the Unity. Decades of constant funnels crashing across the earth, coating it in destruction. But it wouldn’t spread over everything.

In her mind, she pictured an oasis. A golden place that shimmered in the sunlight. She imagined a long pier, with seagulls wheeling in the blue sky above. She pictured Perry and Talon together, fishing at the end, content and relaxed. Cinder would be there too, watching them, holding his hat to keep it from blowing away. She imagined Liv and Roar nearby, whispering to each other, planning some kind of mischief that would lead, inevitably, to someone being tossed into the water. And she would be there. She’d sing something gentle and pretty. A song that would hold the sway of the waves and the warm feel of the sun. A song that would capture how she felt for all of them.

That was what she wanted. It was her Still Blue, and every breath she took, every second that passed, she could choose to fight for it, or not.

She realized it was no choice at all. She would always fight.

Aria stood and motioned for Roar to follow her to the balcony. As she stepped outside, the ghostly moan of the wind raised the hair on her arms. Below, she saw the Snake River, its black water rippling with Aether light. Smoke lifted up from the chimneys of homes along the banks, and she could see the bridge she and Roar had crossed only yesterday. In the darkness it stood as an arc dotted with points of firelight.

Roar stood beside her, his jaw tense, his brown eyes tight with anger.

She reached for his hand.

We’re going to steal the Eye back. We can take the ledge to the next balcony and slip inside. I can get us to Sable’s room. I need the Still Blue for Talon. For Perry. If it’s on the Eye, then we’ll have what we came for. We’ll get Liv and get out of here.

It was a desperate plan. Flawed and dangerous. But their window for action was closing by the minute. In hours, they’d be thrown out of Rim. The time for risks was now.

“Yes,” Roar whispered urgently. “Let’s go.”

Aria peered over the low wall that bordered the balcony. A small ledge ran to the next balcony, about twenty feet away. It was just a small lip of stone, barely four inches wide. She looked down. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but her stomach clenched like she’d been punched. The drop to the Snake was sixty feet, she guessed. A fall from this height could be lethal.

She swung her legs over the wall and stepped onto the ledge. A gust set her shirt flapping. She gasped, curling her back at the chill that raced up her spine. Digging her fingers into the grooves, she drew a breath and took her first steps away from the balcony. Then another step. And then another.

She skimmed her hands over the stone blocks, grasping cracks and edges as she kept her gaze on her feet. She heard the soft brush of Roar’s feet behind her, and the drift of a woman’s laughter from somewhere above.

Her gaze darted over. Halfway there.

Her boot slipped. Her shin smacked the ledge. She grasped desperately at stone, fingernails lifting, tearing. Roar’s fingers clamped onto her arm, steadying her. She pressed her cheek against the stone wall, every muscle in her body clenching. As close as she pushed herself to the wall, it wasn’t enough. She breathed, forcing her mind away from the feeling of falling backward.

“I’m right here,” Roar whispered. His hand splayed on her back, firm and warm. “I won’t let you fall.”

She could only nod. She could only keep going.

One step at a time, she inched toward the other balcony. As she neared, she saw a pair of double doors. They were open, but there was only darkness beyond. She waited, forcing back her eagerness to be off the slippery ledge, letting her ears tell her what awaited inside.

She didn’t hear anything. Not a sound.

Aria hopped over the low wall and dropped into a crouch. She set a hand down, needing just a quick connection with solid ground. Roar landed soundlessly beside her.

Together, they skimmed across the balcony. A quick testing glance through the doors showed an empty, darkened room. They stepped inside, silent, weaponless.

Only the Aether light flowing through the doors illuminated the chamber, but it was enough to see that the space was bare—possessing no more furniture than a few chairs pushed to the corner. Roar moved swiftly toward them. She heard two muffled snaps. He returned and handed her something. A broken horn spur. Aria tested the feel of it in her hand. It was roughly the same length as her knives. Not as sharp, but it would do as a weapon.

Moving to the door, they listened for sounds in the hall. Silence. They slipped outside and hurried toward Sable’s room. Lamps flickered along the way, creating pools of shadow and light. She firmed her grip on the horn handle. She’d spent the winter practicing her fighting skills with Roar. Learning speed. Momentum. Stealth. She felt ready, the rush in her blood on the edge between eagerness and fear.

Liv’s room was close, and Sable’s wouldn’t be much farther.

Aria heard footsteps. She froze. Ahead of her, Roar tensed. Two strides echoed to her ears. Both heavyset, the knock of their heels firm against the stones. The sound bounced—in front of her one instant, behind the next. She saw the same uncertainty in Roar’s eyes. Which way? There was no time.

They surged forward together, feet gliding, devouring the stone hall. They’d either avoid the guards or run right into them.

They reached the end just as a pair of guards came around the corner, and then they moved like they’d rehearsed it. Roar lunged for the largest man, closest to him. Aria sprang on the other.

She rammed the horn into the guard’s temple. The strike was solid, the impact jarring, shooting up her arm. The man rocked back, stunned. She grasped the knife at his belt and drew it, ready for her second strike. Ready to cut. But his eyes rolled back, and he was fading. She jammed the hilt of the knife into his jaw, knocking him out, and still had time to grasp the sleeve of his uniform, softening the sound of his fall.

For an instant she stared at the guard—at his ruddy complexion and slack mouth—soundly defeated on the floor, and she felt a confidence that a tattoo could never give her. She turned to see Roar straighten over the other guard’s body. He slid a knife into his belt, his dark eyes flicking to hers, cool and focused. He tipped his chin, gesturing down the hall, and then hoisted the man he’d slain up over his shoulder.

Aria couldn’t carry the other guard alone, and there was no time to second-guess. She sprinted for Liv’s room. Pulling herself short at Liv’s door, she grasped the iron handle, and stepped inside.

Light from the hall spilled into the darkened room. Liv lay on her bed, awake, on top of the covers. When she saw Aria, she shot to her feet, landing on the floor with a quiet thump. She wore her day clothes, down to her boots.

Liv looked from Aria to the door. Then she bolted into the hall without uttering a word. Aria shot after her. They passed Roar, carrying the guard over his shoulder. Silently, Liv held the man Aria had knocked out beneath the arms. Aria took him by his feet. Together, they carried him into Liv’s room and set him down against the wall, where Roar had set the other man. Aria darted back to the open door. Carefully, she eased it closed, listening to the hardware click softly into place.

Then she turned and saw Roar and Liv locked in an embrace.

31

PEREGRINE

Perry sat in the cookhouse after supper in a daze, his mind stuck on Aria. She hadn’t betrayed him. She wasn’t with Roar. He hadn’t lost her. The thoughts ran through his mind in an endless cycle.

The Aether had built all day, leaving everyone anxious, waiting for the storm to hit. Reef and Marron sat at his sides, both of them quiet. Nearby, Kirra talked with her men, speaking in quiet tones.

Only Willow carried on normally. She was across from Perry at the table, chattering to Cinder about the day she’d found Flea.

“It was four years ago,” she said, “and he was even scrabblier than he is now.”

“That’s scrabbly,” Cinder said, trying not to smile.

“I know. Me and Perry and Talon were coming back from the harbor when Talon spotted him. Flea was lying on his side, just off the trail. Right, Perry?”

He heard his name and surfaced to answer. “That’s right.”

“So we got closer and saw a nail speared through his paw. You know the soft webby part between his toes?” Willow splayed her fingers, pointing. “That’s where the nail was. I was scared he’d bite, but Perry went right up and said, ‘Easy, fleabag. I’m just going to take a look at your paw.’”

Perry smiled at Willow’s imitation of him. He didn’t think his voice was that deep. As she prattled on, he looked down at his own hand, flexing it. Remembering the feel of Aria’s fingers in his.

Did she hate him? Had she forgotten about him?

“What’s going on?” Reef asked quietly.

Perry shook his head. “Nothing.”

Reef watched him for a long moment. “Right,” he said, irritated, but as he rose to leave, his hand came down on Perry’s shoulder in a quick, reassuring grip.

Perry fought the urge to knock it away. Nothing was wrong. He was fine.

On his other side, Marron pretended not to notice. He had Vale’s old ledger open on the table to a diagram he’d made of the cave. When he turned the page, Perry saw a tally of food from a year ago, written in his brother’s hand. They’d thought they had so little in those days. They had less now. The stash of food Kirra had brought wouldn’t last forever, and Perry didn’t know how they’d replenish it.

Marron sensed him watching and looked up, a soft smile on his face. “Fine time to be Blood Lord, isn’t it?”

Perry swallowed. It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t. He nodded. “It’d be worse without you here.”

Marron’s smile grew warmer. “You’ve assembled a good team, Perry.” He went back to the ledger, creating three lines, studying them, and then sighing. He closed the book. “I’m of no use. Might as well try to rest.” He tucked it under his arm and left.

His departure inspired the others. One by one people made their way out, until it was only Reef and Kirra, leaving together. Perry watched them go, his heart pounding for no reason that he could understand. Then he was finally alone. He drew the candle closer and played with the flame, his eyes blurring as he tested his threshold for pain, until it guttered and went out.

When he finally stepped outside, the air smelled ashy and carried the sting of Aether. It smelled of ruin. The sky churned dark and bright. Marbled and shifting. In hours, the storm would break, and the tribe would come flooding into the cookhouse for shelter.

Flea trotted over from across the clearing, his ears bouncing up and down. Perry knelt and scratched his neck. “Hey, fleabag. You watching over things for me?”

Flea panted at him. In a flash Perry remembered him the same way weeks ago, leaning against Aria’s leg. Suddenly he was overwhelmed by the urge to feel sharp and clear again. To get her out of his head.

He shot toward the beach trail, sprinting when Flea tore ahead, turning it into a race. Perry pushed himself and jumped off the last dune, thinking of nothing more than diving into the sea.

He landed on the soft sand and froze.

Flea trotted toward a girl who was down by the shore. She was facing the water. Taller than Willow, Perry saw, with a woman’s body and hair he could tell was red, even in the blue night.

Kirra saw Flea. Then she turned around and spotted him. She lifted her hand in a small wave.

Perry hesitated, knowing he should wave good-bye and head back to the compound, but the next thing he knew, he was standing in front of her, no memory of walking across the sand or choosing to stay.

“I was hoping you’d show up,” she said, smiling.

“I thought you didn’t like the beach.” His voice sounded deep and hoarse.

“It’s not as bad when you’re here. Can’t sleep?”

“I … No.” Perry crossed his arms, fisting his hands. “I was going to swim.”

“But now you’re not?”

He shook his head. The waves were huge. Pounding on the sand. He needed to be there. In the water. Or home in his bed. Anywhere but here.

“About what I said earlier,” she said. “I should mind my own business.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Kirra lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”

Perry wanted to say yes. He didn’t want to be a fool who’d given his heart to a girl who’d left him. Didn’t want to feel weak anymore.

He didn’t answer, but Kirra came nearer anyway. Closer than she should have. He couldn’t ignore the shape of her body any longer, or the smile on her lips.

He tensed when she touched his arm, though he’d expected it. She slid her hand down to his wrist. Pulling gently, she uncrossed his arms. Then she wrapped them around her back and stepped in, closing the space between them.

32

ARIA

Olivia, what are you doing to me?” Roar spoke in a low rush, staring into Liv’s eyes. “How could you come here?”

“I’m sorry, Roar. I thought I could help the Tides. I thought I could go through with it. I thought I could move on from you.”

As she spoke, Roar kissed her cheeks, her chin, her forehead. Aria spun and darted for the balcony, passing Liv’s wedding dress hanging by the opened doors. She kept going until her legs bumped against the low wall and her fingers gripped the cold stones and she was staring down. Down at the dark water in the distance.

She didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to hear them, but her ears were sharp—so much sharper when her adrenaline was going.

Liv’s voice. “I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

And then Roar. “It’s all right, Livy. I love you. No matter what. Always.”

Then it was quiet, and Aria heard only the wind breathing over the balcony, and their breaths, Liv’s and Roar’s, uneven and catching. Aria shut her eyes as her heart twisted and twisted. She could almost feel Perry’s arms around her. Where was he now? Was he thinking about her, too?

Seconds later, Roar and Liv appeared on the balcony together, eyes sparkling. Liv’s half-sword peeked over one shoulder. Over the other, she carried her satchel and Aria’s.

“I was coming for you tonight,” Liv said, and handed the leather pack over. She reached into her bag and brought out the Smarteye. “Sable hid it in his room. I snuck in while he slept. I’d scented pine on it earlier. I went right to it.” She handed it to Aria. “Go. Use it quickly.”

Aria shook her head. “Now?” How long until someone noticed the guards missing? “We have to get out of here.”

“You have to do it now,” Liv said. “He’ll come after us if we take it.”

“He’ll come after you regardless, Olivia,” Roar said. “We need to go.”

“He won’t,” Liv said. “Get the Still Blue. If we don’t have that, we don’t have Talon.”

There was no time to argue. Aria applied the device, and her Smartscreen appeared. She chose the Phantom icon. Soren would know whether Sable and Hess had discussed the Still Blue. She waited, expecting to fraction into the opera hall. She didn’t. Instead, two new icons appeared, generic, bearing only time counters. Soren had left her the recordings.

She chose the one with the shortest running time, growing more nervous with every passing second. Roar was in Liv’s room, listening by the door for sounds in the hall.

An image expanded on her Smartscreen. She was viewing a scratch Realm. A blank space with nothing more than darkness, broken by a single spotlight from above. Sable stood to one side, Hess to the other, the planes of their faces cut sharply by light and shadow.

Hess was wearing his official Consul uniform. Navy, trimmed with reflective slashes along the sleeve and collar. He stood rigid, straight, hands down at his sides. Sable wore a fitted black shirt and pants, and the Blood Lord chain sparkled at his neck. He had a relaxed stance, his eyes wrinkled in amusement. One man looked dangerous; the other looked deadly.

Sable spoke first. “Charming, your world. Is it always this appealing?”

Hess’s mouth lifted into a smirk. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you earlier.”

Aria realized she’d chosen the recording of their second meeting. There was no time to change. She let it play on.

“Would you prefer this?” Hess asked.

In a quiet lurch, the Realm changed. Now they stood in a thatch-roofed hut with open sides, set up high like it was on stilts. A golden savannah rolled out to the horizon, the grass undulating in waves under a warm breeze.

Hess had no idea. He had meant it as an insult. A jab at the primitive man he believed Sable to be. But for a long moment all Aria could do—all Sable could do—was stare in wonder at the sun-doused scenery. At an open, still sky. At earth that was gently baked, not cruelly burned by Aether.

Sable turned his focus back to Hess. “I do prefer it, thank you. What have you learned?”

Hess sighed. “My engineers assure me that the craft will travel over any kind of terrain. They have shields, but their effectiveness is limited. Any intense concentration of Aether will overpower them.”

Sable nodded. “I have a solution for that. What’s the total, Hess?”

“Eight hundred people. And that will be pushing their capacity.”

“That’s not enough,” Sable said.

“We were never intended to leave Reverie,” Hess said, his words clipped with frustration. “We’re not prepared for an exodus of this magnitude. Are you?”

Sable smiled. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I were.”

Hess ignored the jab. “We split the number evenly or the deal is off.”

“Yes. Fine,” Sable said impatiently. “We’ve been through the terms.”

In the real, Roar returned to the balcony. “We have to go,” he whispered, tugging on her arm. Aria shook her head. She couldn’t stop listening now.

“How soon can you be ready?” Sable asked Hess.

“A week to fuel and load the craft, and to organize the … the survivors. The Chosen.”

Sable nodded as he stared thoughtfully across the grassy plain. “Eight hundred people,” he said to himself. Then he faced Hess. “What will you do with the rest of your citizens?”

The color drained from Hess’s face. “What can I do with them? They’ll be told to wait for the second deployment.”

Sable’s lips lifted into a smile. “You know there won’t be a second deployment. It’s a single crossing.”

“Yes, I know that,” Hess said tightly. “But they won’t.”

Aria’s knees softened, her shoulder bumping against Liv’s. Hess and Sable were going to pick and choose who went. Who lived and who died. She couldn’t catch her breath, and she felt nauseous. Sickened by how coldly they discussed leaving people behind.

Roar’s grasp on her arm tightened. “Aria, you have to stop!”

Sounds erupted in the hall. She tensed, racing through the commands to shut off the Eye.

“In here!” someone yelled.

Roar drew his knife. Aria heard the thud of a shoulder driving open the door, and then the crash of wood against stone. In the darkness of Liv’s room, she saw a rush of movement. A black tide crashing toward them.

She backpedaled, fumbling with her satchel. Her legs slammed against the balcony wall as she shoved the Eye deep inside the leather pack. Footsteps pounded closer, and then guards appeared, shouting for them to stand down, steel flashing in the dimness.

Liv drew her half-sword from its sheath, stepping around Roar.

“Liv!” he yelled.

The guard at the helm raised a crossbow, stopping her. She stood a few paces in front of Aria and Roar, poised to slash. Sable’s guards filed in, forming a wall of red and black across the wide threshold. They were trapped on the balcony.

Everything was still, silent, except for the even, unhurried tread of footsteps. Sable’s men stepped aside as he came forward. Aria saw no trace of surprise on his face.

“The girl has the eyepiece,” one of the guards said. “I saw her put it in her bag.”

Sable’s gaze moved to her, cold and focused. Aria firmed her grip on the satchel.

“I took it,” Liv said, still in her fighting stance.

“I know.” Sable took a step forward, his chest working as he scented the air. “I knew you’d had a change of heart, Olivia. But I’d hoped you wouldn’t act on it.”

“Let them go,” Liv said. “Let them leave, and I’ll stay.”

Roar tensed beside Aria. “No, Liv!”

Sable ignored him. “What makes you think I want you to stay? You stole from me. And you’ve chosen another.” He looked to Roar. “But there might be a solution. Maybe you have too many options.”

Sable snatched the crossbow from the man at his side and trained it on Roar.

“You think that’ll change anything?” Roar said, his voice hard. “It doesn’t matter what you do. She’ll never be yours.”

“You think so?” Sable asked. He firmed his grip on the weapon, readying to fire.

“No!” Aria thrust the satchel out over the wall. “If you want the Smarteye back, swear you won’t hurt him. Swear in front of your men you won’t, or I’ll drop it.”

“If you do that, Dweller, I will kill you both.”

Liv surged forward, sword swinging. Sable adjusted his aim and fired. The bolt left the crossbow. Liv flew backward and fell.

Her body struck the stones with a sickening thud, like a heavy sack of grain heaved to the ground. Then she lay still.

The real was broken. It had a glitch, like the Realms. Liv wasn’t moving. She lay just a pace away from Aria’s feet. From Roar’s. Her long blond hair spilling over her chest. Through the golden strands, Aria saw the bolt that had struck her, blood seeping up, spreading deep red over her ivory shirt.

She heard Roar exhale. A singular sound. A sigh like a last breath.

Then she saw what would happen next.

Roar would attack Sable, no matter that it wouldn’t bring Liv back. No matter that half a dozen armed men stood beside their Blood Lord. Roar would try to kill Sable. But he would be the one killed, if she didn’t do something now.

She lunged. Wrapping Roar in her arms, she flung herself back, pulling them over the balcony wall. Then they were weightless and falling, falling, falling through the darkness.

33

PEREGRINE

Forget about her,” Kirra whispered, staring up at him. “She’s gone.”

Her scent flowed into Perry’s nose. A brittle autumn scent. Leaves that crumbled into jagged pieces. The wrong scent, but he felt his fists unfold. His fingers spread on the small of Kirra’s back. On flesh that didn’t feel the way he wanted. Did she feel his fingers shaking?

“Perry …,” Kirra whispered, her scent warming. She licked her lips and stared up at him, her eyes glinting. “I didn’t expect this either.”

A fierce hunger rolled through him. Heartache that pounded inside his chest like the breaking waves. “Yes, you did.”

She shook her head. “It’s not why I came here. We could be good together,” she said. Then her hands were on him. Fast, cold hands running over his chest. Skimming his stomach. She moved closer, pressing her body to his, and leaned up to kiss him.

“Kirra.”

“Don’t talk, Perry.”

He took her wrists and drew her hands away. “No.”

She settled onto her heels and stared at his chest. They stayed that way, not moving. Not speaking. Her temper lit like fire, crimson, searing. Then he scented her resolve, her control, as it cooled and cooled, icing over.

Perry heard a bark along the beach trail. He’d forgotten about Flea. He’d forgotten about the storm roiling above them. He’d forgotten, for a second, how it felt to be left behind.

Strangely, he felt calm now. It didn’t matter if Aria was hundreds of miles away, or whether she’d hurt him, or said good-bye, or anything else. Nothing would change the way he felt. Not ignoring his thoughts of her, or being with Kirra. The moment Aria had taken his hand on the roof at Marron’s, she’d changed everything. No matter what happened, she’d always be the one.

“I’m sorry, Kirra,” he said. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

Kirra lifted her shoulders. “I’ll survive.” She turned to go, but stopped herself. She looked back, smiling. “But you should know that I always get what I’m after.”

34

ARIA

Aria had flown before, in the Realms. It was a glorious thing, soaring with no weight and no care. Flying felt like becoming the wind. This was nothing like that. It was an ugly, grasping, panicking thing. As the Snake River blurred closer, her only thought—her every thought—was hold on to Roar.

The water slammed into her, hard as stone, and then everything happened at once. Every bone in her body jarred. Roar tore out of her grip, and darkness swallowed her, driving every thought from her mind. She didn’t know if she was still there—still alive—until she saw the wavering light of the Aether calling her to the surface.

Her limbs unlocked, and she kicked, pushing through the water. Cold pierced into her muscles and her eyes. She was too heavy, too slow. Her clothes filled, dragging her down, and she felt the strap of her satchel looped around her waist. Aria grasped it and swam, every stroke thick, like cutting through mud. She broke the surface and sucked in a breath.

“Roar!” she screeched, scanning the water. The river looked calm on the surface, but the current was brutally strong.

Filling her lungs, she went under, searching desperately for him. She couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her, but she spotted him floating close by, his back to her.

He wasn’t swimming.

Panic exploded inside of her. She’d thrown him over the balcony.

If she’d killed him—

If he was gone—

She reached him, grasped under his arms, and towed him up. They surfaced, but now she had to kick harder. His weight was immense, and he was limp in her arms, a dead weight pulling her down.

“Roar!” she gasped, struggling to keep him above water. The cold was beyond anything she’d ever experienced, stabbing like a thousand needles into her muscles. “Roar, help me!” She swallowed water, and started coughing. They were still sinking. Still falling together.

She couldn’t talk. Aria reached up, fumbling, finding the bare skin at his neck. Roar, please. I can’t do this without you!

He jolted like he’d woken from a nightmare, wrenching out of her arms.

Aria surfaced and retched river water, fighting to catch a breath.

Roar swam away from her. She had to be losing her mind. He’d never leave her. Then she saw a dark shape floating toward them on the current. For an irrational second, she thought Sable had come after them, until her eyes focused and she saw the fallen log. Roar latched onto it.

“Aria!” He reached for her and pulled her in.

Aria grabbed hold, broken branches jabbing into her numbed hands. She couldn’t stop shaking, shaking from her core. They passed beneath the bridge and raced past homes along shore, everything dark and still in the dead of night.

“Too cold,” she said. “We have to get out.” Her jaw was trembling so much her words were unrecognizable.

They kicked toward shore together, but she didn’t know how they made it. She could barely feel her legs anymore. When their feet thudded against the gravelly riverbed, they released the driftwood. Roar’s arm came around her, and they waded on, clinging to each other, reality returning with every step.

Liv.

Liv.

Liv.

She hadn’t looked at Roar’s face yet. She was afraid of what she’d see.

As they trudged out of the river and onto land, she suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. Somehow, she and Roar hobbled up the shore, carrying each other, stumbling arm in arm. They passed between two houses and crossed a field, plunging into the woods beyond.

Aria didn’t know where they were heading. She couldn’t keep a straight line. She was beyond thinking, and her steps were weaving.

“Walking can’t cold anymore.” It was her voice but slurred, and she didn’t think she’d made sense. Then she was on her side in the tall grass. She couldn’t remember falling over. She drew into a ball, trying to stop the pain that stabbed into her muscles, her heart.

Roar appeared above her. There for an instant, then he was gone, and all she saw was Aether, flowing in currents above her.

Aria wanted to go after him. She didn’t want to be alone, and all she felt was aloneness. She needed a place with falcon carvings on the sill. She needed a place to belong.

When she opened her eyes, spindly tree branches swayed above her, and the first light of dawn colored the sky. Her head was resting on Roar’s chest. A thick, coarse blanket covered them, warm and smelling of horse.

She sat up, every muscle in her body aching, quivering with weakness. Her hair was still damp from the river. They were in the fold of a small gully. Roar must have moved her while she was asleep. Or unconscious. A fire smoldered nearby. Their jackets and boots were set out to dry.

Roar slept with a soft smile on his lips. His skin was a shade too pale. She memorized the way he looked. Aria wasn’t sure when she’d see him smile again.

He was beautiful, and it wasn’t fair.

She drew a shaky breath. “Roar,” she said.

He rolled to his feet without a word. The suddenness of his movement startled her, and she wondered if he’d ever been asleep.

He stared at her with unfocused eyes. Stared through her. She remembered feeling that way when her mother died. Detached. Like nothing she saw looked the same. In one day, her entire life had changed. Everything—from the world around her to the way she felt inside—had become unrecognizable.

Aria stood. She wanted to hold him and sob with him. Give it to me, she wanted to scream. Give me the pain. Let me take it from you.

Roar turned away. He picked up his jacket, banked the fire, and began to walk.

As they hurried to put the Snake behind them, clouds moved in, casting a mottled darkness over the woods. Aria’s right knee throbbed—she must have sprained it on the fall from the balcony—but they had to keep going. Sable would be after them. They needed to get away from Rim and find safety. It was all she let herself think about. All she could manage.

They traveled along the crest, stopping in the afternoon in a dense pocket of pines. The Snake curved along the valley below, the water rippling like scales. In the distance she saw a wall of rising black smoke. Another stretch of land decimated by a storm. The Aether was growing more powerful. No one could be in any doubt.

Roar dropped his satchel and sat. He hadn’t spoken once yet today. Not a word.

“I’m going to look around,” she said. “I won’t go far.” She left to scout their position. They were protected on one side by a shale slope. On the other by an impassable cliff. If anyone came after them, they’d have fair warning.

When she came back, she found Roar hunched over his knees with his head in his hands. Tears streamed down his cheeks and rolled off his chin, but he wasn’t moving. Aria had never seen anyone cry that way. So still. Like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“I’m right here, Roar,” she said, sitting by him. “I’m here.”

He shut his eyes. He didn’t respond.

Seeing him that way made her hurt. It made her want to scream until her throat was raw, but she couldn’t force him to talk. When he was ready, she’d be there.

Aria found a spare shirt in her satchel and tore it into strips. She wrapped her knee and put her things away, then had nothing else to do except watch Roar’s heart bleed out before her eyes.

An image sprang to her mind, of Liv smiling sleepily and asking, Are you the bird, or is my brother?

Aria clamped her hand over her mouth and scrambled away. She darted past shrubs and trees, needing distance because she couldn’t cry silently and she wouldn’t make it worse for Roar.

Liv should’ve been married tomorrow, or she should have run away with Roar. She should have seen Perry as a Blood Lord, and she should’ve been Aria’s friend. So much had vanished in a second.

Aria remembered being in the dining room with Sable. She’d had a knife in her hand, and a clear shot at his neck. She hated herself for not having done it. She should have killed him then.

Eyes swollen, her head pounding, she limped back to Roar. He was asleep, his head resting on his satchel.

She found her Smarteye and fought back a wave of fresh tears. If Liv hadn’t stolen it, would she still be alive? Would she be alive if Aria had given the Eye back to Sable on the balcony?

It nauseated her to think of Hess and Sable’s meeting. Their deal to go to the Still Blue together meant turning their backs on countless innocent people. She thought about Talon and Caleb and the rest of her friends in Reverie. Would they be chosen to go? And what about Perry, and Cinder, and the rest of the Tides? What about everyone else? The Unity was happening again, and it was more horrific than anything she’d imagined.

The thought of seeing Hess made her stomach turn, but she needed to. She’d connected him with Sable. She had done her part in helping him find the Still Blue. Now he needed to follow through on his part of the deal—and if he failed her, she’d contact Soren. She didn’t care how it happened. She needed Talon back.

Pulse racing, she applied the Smarteye. The biotech worked, attaching to her eye socket. She saw that the recordings were gone. Only the icons for Hess and Soren remained on her screen. She tried Hess and waited. He didn’t come.

She tried Soren next. He never showed either.

35

PEREGRINE

Later, Perry climbed up to the roof of his house and watched the Aether coiling in the sky. He’d plunged into the ocean after Kirra left, needing to wash her scent from him. He’d cut through the waves until his shoulders burned, then returned to the compound, his body tired and numb, his mind clear.

As he rested his head against the roof tiles, he could still feel the movement of the ocean. Closing his eyes, he drifted on the blurry edge of a memory.

He remembered the time his father took him hunting, just the two of them, on the afternoon Talon was born. Perry had been eleven years old. A warm day, the breeze as soft as a breath. He remembered the sound of his father’s stride, heavy and sure, as they’d walked through the woods.

Hours passed before Perry realized his father wasn’t tracking, wasn’t paying attention to scents. He stopped abruptly and knelt, looking Perry in the eyes in a way he seldom did, spots of sunlight dancing on his forehead. Then he told Perry that love was like the waves in the sea, gentle and good sometimes, rough and terrible at others, but that it was endless and stronger than the sky and the earth and everything in between.

“One day,” his father had said, “I hope you understand. And I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Perry knew how it felt to be haunted by a mistake whenever he lay down to sleep. There was nothing more painful than hurting someone you loved. Because of Vale, Perry realized he understood. No matter how hard he tried, there would be times when he couldn’t stop the rough and terrible from happening. To his tribe. To Aria. To his brother.

Shifting his back on the roof tiles, he decided that the one day his father had spoken of was today. Tonight. Right now. And he forgave.

The storm struck before dawn, wrenching him from a deep, restful sleep. The Aether turned in spirals, brighter than he’d ever seen. Perry climbed to his feet, his skin prickling, the acrid smell sharp and suffocating. To the west, a funnel wove down from the sky, turning toward the earth. The shrieking sound roared in his ears as it struck and spooled back up. He saw another funnel to the south, and then another. Suddenly the night was alive, pulsing with light.

“Perry, get off there!” Gren yelled from the clearing below. People rushed out of their homes, terrified, running for the cookhouse.

Perry sprinted for the ladder. Halfway down, everything turned shocking white, and the air shuddered. His legs tensed. He missed a rung and fell, tumbling to the dirt.

Across the clearing, an Aether funnel whirled down, striking Bear’s house. Shaking the earth beneath his feet. Perry watched, unable to move, as roof tiles exploded and popped. The funnel spooled back up, and the roof rumbled and toppled to one side. He shot to his feet and sprinted, knocking people over.

“Bear!” he yelled. “Molly!” He saw only a tumble of rock where the front door and window had been. Smoke seeped from the rubble. Fire burned somewhere inside.

Twig appeared beside him. “They’re in there! I hear Bear!”

People gathered around, watching in shock as flames licked up from the cracks in the sloping roof. Perry caught Reef’s eyes. “Get everyone in the cookhouse!”

Hayden pumped water from the well. Kirra’s people stood behind her, clothes whipping in the hot, swirling wind.

“What do you want us to do?” she asked, their time on the beach forgotten.

“We need more water,” he told her. “And help move rubble!”

“If we move any of this, the rest of the roof could fall,” Gren said.

“We don’t have a choice!” Perry yelled. Every second they lost, the fire spread. He grasped the stones of the collapsed wall, heaving them away one at a time, panic setting in as the heat of the fire seeped through the rubble into his hands. He sensed his own men beside him and Kirra’s.

Seconds felt like hours. He looked up and saw an Aether funnel slash down to the cookhouse. The impact threw him sideways, down to his knees. When the funnel wove back to the sky, he stayed for silent, dizzying seconds, regaining his bearings. Twig stared at him vacantly, a trail of blood running down his ear.

“Perry! Over here!” Straggler called from a dozen paces away. Hyde and Hayden pulled Molly through a gap in the rubble.

Perry ran to her. Blood seeped from a gash on her forehead, but she was alive. “He’s still in there,” she said.

“I’ll get him, Molly,” he promised. He wouldn’t let Bear die.

The brothers carried her to the cookhouse, where she could get treated. Everywhere Perry looked, funnels lashed the ground.

Nearby, Kirra called her people into the cookhouse. “We tried,” she told him. She shrugged and walked away. That was how easily she gave up on someone who needed help. Whose life was on the line.

Perry turned back to the house just as the rest of the roof folded inward. The air rushed from his lungs, and screams of terror erupted around him.

“It’s over, Perry.” Twig grasped him by the arm, tugging him toward the cookhouse. “We have to get inside.”

Perry shook him off. “I’m not leaving him!” He spotted Reef across the clearing, running with Hyde. He knew they’d haul him away.

Then Cinder ran up with Willow, Flea barking at their feet. He looked at Perry, a fierce intensity in his eyes. “Let me help!”

“No!” Perry wouldn’t risk Cinder’s life too. “Get in the cookhouse!”

Cinder shook his head. “I could do something!”

“Cinder, no! Willow, get him out of here!”

It was too late. Cinder was somewhere else. His stare was empty, oblivious to the chaos around him. As he backed away, moving to the middle of the clearing, his eyes began to glow, and veins of Aether spread over his face and hands. Shocked curses and shouts broke around Perry as others took notice of Cinder—and of the sky.

Above, the Aether melded into a single, massive whirlpool. A funnel twisted down, forming a solid brilliant wall that circled Cinder, engulfing him. Perry couldn’t find his voice. He couldn’t move. Didn’t know how to stop Cinder.

A blast of light sent piercing pain into his eyes, blinding him. He flew back on the earth, landing on his side, and shielded his head. Waited for his skin to burn. A hot gust whipped past him, pushing him back for long seconds; then a sudden silence fell over the compound. He peered up and saw no Aether. The sky was blue and calm as far as he could see.

He looked to the center of the clearing. A small figure was curled in a circle of glittering embers. Stumbling to his feet, Perry ran to him. Cinder lay deathly still and bare, his hat gone, his hair gone, his chest unmoving.

36

ARIA

I have to find us another way to the Tides,” Aria said the next morning, hugging her growling stomach. The snare trap she’d set the previous night had been empty. “I hurt my knee when we fell.”

Roar looked up from the flames with lifeless eyes. He hadn’t spoken yet. She tried to remember: had he said her name when they were in the Snake River? She’d been so out of her mind with cold that now she wondered if she’d imagined it.

“We could go part of the way by boat on the Snake,” she continued. “It’ll be a risk, but so is being out here. And at least it’ll get us there faster.”

She spoke quietly, but her own voice seemed loud. “Roar … please say something.” She moved beside him and took his hand. I’m here. I’m right here. I’m so sorry about Liv. Please tell me you can hear me.

He looked at her, his eyes warming for a moment before he drew away.

They returned to the Snake while heading west, away from Rim. That afternoon, they reached a fishing town, where she found them passage on a wide barge heading downriver. The hold was cluttered with crates and burlap sacks filled with goods. She’d been ready to fight, ready for anything in case Sable had people looking for them, but the captain, a leather-faced man named Maverick, didn’t ask any questions. She paid their way with one of her knives.

“Nice blade, ladybug,” said Maverick. His eyes flicked to Roar. “You give me the other one and I’ll give you the cabin.”

She was anxious and hurting and had no patience. “Call me ladybug again and I will give you the other one.”

Maverick smiled, showing a mouth full of silver teeth. “Welcome aboard.”

Before they cast off, Aria listened closely to the gossip at the busy wharf. Sable had amassed a legion of men and was preparing to take them south. She heard different reasons for it. He wanted to conquer a new territory; he was on a quest for the Still Blue; he sought revenge against an Aud who had slain his bride only days before their wedding.

Aria imagined Sable spreading this last rumor himself. She hadn’t thought it possible to hate him any more, but after hearing that, she did.

Once aboard, she and Roar settled themselves between sacks filled with wool, rolls of leather, and salvaged goods like tires and plastic pipes from before the Unity. It amazed her that trade carried on as usual. It seemed futile.

She felt like she possessed a terrible secret. The world was coming to an end, and if Hess and Sable got their way, only eight hundred people would live on. Part of her wanted to scream a warning from the top of her lungs. But how would that help? What could anyone do without the location of the Still Blue? The other part of her still couldn’t accept that what she’d seen—what she’d heard planned by Sable and Hess—could possibly be true.

She closed her eyes when they moved onto open water, listening to the crew’s voices and the creak of the wooden ship. Every sound made her feel worse for Roar.

When it was quiet, Aria pulled her coat over her head and tried the Smarteye again. She hadn’t given up hope of reaching either Hess or Soren. She couldn’t give up on bringing Talon back to Perry.

Neither Hess nor Soren responded. She stuffed the Eye back into the satchel. Had they turned their backs on her, or had something happened to Reverie? She couldn’t stop thinking of the glitches in the Realms. What if she’d lost contact because the damage in Reverie had gotten worse? What if it was crumbling? She couldn’t deny the possibility. She’d seen what happened to Bliss in the fall, when she’d found her mother.

Unsettled, Aria rested her head against Roar’s shoulder and watched the Aether turn above. A cold wind blew along the Snake, numbing her ears and her nose. Roar put his arm around her. She gathered close, reassured by this small sign that he was still there, somewhere beneath the shell of silence and grief. She found his hand, speaking to him without speaking, hoping at least this way he could hear her.

She told him she’d do anything to make him hurt less, and then waited for him to take his hand away. He didn’t. His fingers threaded through hers, his grip familiar, comfortable, so she spoke to him some more.

As they floated down the Snake River, she told him about Hess and Sable’s arrangement, and about her fears of Reverie’s condition. She talked about the Realms—her favorites and least favorites—and all the ones she thought he’d like. She told him about her most frightening experience: a tie between when she thought Perry had been captured by the Croven in the fall, and when she couldn’t find Roar in the Snake River. And her saddest: when she found her mother in Reverie. She told him about Perry. Deeper things than she’d ever shared before. Don’t ever spare me, Roar had said once. Now she didn’t. She couldn’t, even if she’d wanted to. Perry was on her mind always.

She thought to Roar so much that it became natural and she stopped thinking about thinking and just thought. Roar heard everything. He knew her mind fully, openly, the same way Perry knew her tempers. Between the two of them, she thought, she was known completely.

She’d been seeking the comfort of a place. Of walls. A roof. A pillow to rest her head on. Now she realized that the people she loved were what gave her life shape, and comfort, and meaning. Perry and Roar were home.

Two days later, they reached the end of their river journey. The Snake had brought them far and given her knee a chance to heal, but now it forked west and they’d need to walk the last stretch to the Tides.

“A day and a half south,” Maverick told her. “Maybe more if that slows you up.” He tipped his head to a massive Aether storm brewing in the distance. Then he glanced at Roar, who waited on the dock. Maverick had never heard him speak a word. He’d only seen Roar stare vacantly at the water, or at the sky. “You know, you could do a lot better than him, ladybug.”

Aria shook her head. “No. I couldn’t.”

They traveled well that day, stopping at night to rest. The following morning, Aria couldn’t believe that after nearly a month away, she’d be back at the Tides that afternoon.

She felt like a failure. She hadn’t discovered the location of the Still Blue, and they didn’t have Liv. Her heart tore in half, the ache to see Perry colliding with the dread of what she’d have to tell him.

Aria rummaged in her satchel for the Smarteye and applied it. The Eye had barely gripped her skin when she fractioned to the opera house. Right away, she knew something was wrong. The rows of seats and balconies wavered, like she was seeing them through a sheet of water. Soren stood a few feet away, red-faced and panicked.

“I only have a few seconds before my father traces me. It’s ending, Aria. It’s shutting down. We got slammed by a storm and lost another generator. All the Pod’s systems are failing. They’re just containing the damage now.”

Aria sucked in a breath. She felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. “Where’s Talon?” she asked. In the real, Roar tensed at her side.

“He’s with me. My father’s been in contact with Sable.”

“How did he—”

“He could tell by tracking your Smarteye that you’d taken it, so he sent men to Rim with another one after you left,” Soren said, interrupting her. “Hess and Sable are both getting ready to leave for the Still Blue. My father’s chosen who he’s taking, and separated them into one of the service domes. No one with DLS is allowed to go. He’s locked the rest of us in the Panop.”

Aria tried to process his words. “He locked you in there. Your father left you?”

Soren shook his head. “No. He wanted me to go, but I couldn’t leave. I can’t let all these people just stay here and die. I thought I could unlock the Panop doors from inside, but I can’t. Talon’s in here. Caleb and Rune—everyone. You need to get us out of here. We’re on auxiliary power. It won’t last more than days. That’s it. Then we run out of air.”

“I’m coming,” she said. “I’ll be there. Keep Talon safe.”

“I will, but hurry. Oh—and I know where they’re going. I’ve been watching my father’s comms with Sable—”

A surge of light blinded her, and pain exploded deep behind her eye, shooting down her spine. She screamed, pulling at the Smarteye, wrenching desperately until it came off in her hand.

Roar knelt in front of her, gripping her arms. His eyes held more depth than she’d seen in days. Aria’s head pounded, and tears streamed from her eyes, but she staggered to her feet.

“We have to go, Roar!” she said. “Talon’s in danger. We need to get to Perry now!”

37

PEREGRINE

Perry swept the falcon carvings off the windowsill and put them into a linen bag. His things had already been moved to the cave, but now he packed Talon’s clothes, toys, and books. Maybe it was foolish to move his nephew’s belongings, but he couldn’t leave them behind.

He picked up the small bow from the table and smiled. He and Talon used to spend hours shooting socks at each other from across the room. He drew the string, testing it. Would the bow still suit Talon—or had he had a growth spurt? He’d been gone half a year. Perry didn’t miss him any less.

Twig came through the front door. “Storm’s moving in,” he said, taking the stuffed bag. “Is this ready?”

Perry nodded. “I’ll be right out.”

Only a few days had passed since the last storm, but another one was already building from the south, a massive, churning front that promised to be even worse. It had taken almost losing Bear and Molly to convince the Tides to leave the compound. It had almost cost Cinder’s life, but they were going.

Perry went to Vale’s room and crossed his arms, leaning against the door frame. Molly sat in a chair by the bed, watching over Cinder. His sacrifice had bought the Tides time to reach the cave in safety. Because of him, they’d been able to dig Bear out of the rubble alive. Cinder was as much Molly’s now as he was Perry’s.

“How’s he doing?” Perry asked.

Molly caught his eye and smiled. “Better. He’s awake.”

Perry stepped into the room. Cinder’s eyes fluttered open. He looked gray and hollow-boned, his breath rasping and shallow. He was wearing his usual cap, but his head was bald beneath. Perry scratched his chin, remembering. The only thing Cinder had said when he’d come to the night of the storm was Don’t let anyone see me.

“I’ll head up and make sure everything is set for him,” Molly said, leaving them.

“You ready to go?” Perry asked Cinder. “I’ve got one more trip before I’m coming back for you.”

Cinder licked his lips. “I don’t want to.”

“Willow’s going to be there. She’s been waiting to see you.”

Cinder’s eyes filled with tears. “She knows what I am.”

“You think she cares that you’re different? You saved her life, Cinder. You saved the Tides. Right now I think she likes you better than Flea.”

Cinder blinked. Tears rolled down his face, seeping into the pillow. “She’ll see me this way.”

“I don’t think she gives a damn what you look like. I know I don’t. I won’t force you, but I think you should come. Marron has a special place set up for you, and Willow needs her friend back.” He grinned. “She’s driving everyone crazy.”

Cinder’s mouth twitched in a brief smile. “All right. I’ll go.”

“Good.” Perry rested his hand on Cinder’s hat. “I’m grateful for you. Everyone is.”

Gren waited outside with a horse. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” he said, handing Perry the reins.

The compound was quiet, but across the clearing Perry saw Forest and Lark packing up their own mounts. They looked over, tipping their heads at him.

Since the night of the storm, Kirra had no longer flirted or pushed him. In the span of a week, she’d gone from interested to indifferent, and he was fine with it. He regretted every second he’d spent with her on the beach. He regretted every second he’d ever spent with her.

Perry swung up into the saddle. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he told Gren.

Marron had transformed the cave. Fires cast golden light across the vast space, and the smell of sage floated through the air, softening the dampness and salt. He had organized the sleeping areas with tents for each family around the perimeter, to match the setup of the compound. Lamps lit a few from inside, and the material glowed soft white. The wide space at the center had been left open for gatherings, with the exception of a small wooden platform. In adjacent caverns, there were areas for cooking, washing, and even for keeping livestock and storing food. People wandered from one place to the next, wide-eyed as they oriented themselves in their new home.

It looked a thousand times more inviting than anything Perry had imagined. He could almost forget he was beneath a mountain of rock.

He spotted Marron by the small stage with Reef and Bear, and walked over to join them. Bear leaned on a cane, and both of his eyes were black.

“What do you think?” Marron asked.

Perry rubbed the back of his head. As much as Marron had done, it was still a temporary shelter. Still a cave. “I think I’m lucky to know you,” he said finally.

Marron smiled. “Likewise.”

Bear shifted his weight, peering at him. “I was wrong to doubt you.”

Perry shook his head. “No. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t doubt. And I want to know what you think—especially when you think I’m wrong. But I need your trust. I always want the best for you and Molly. For everyone in the Tides.”

Bear nodded. “I know that, Perry. We all do.” He held out his hand, his grip crushing when Perry took it.

Bear wasn’t the only one in the Tides who had changed toward Perry since the storm. They didn’t argue with him anymore. Now, when he spoke, he sensed them listening and felt the power of their attention. He’d become Blood Lord day by day, through every act, every success, and even through his failures. Not by taking the chain from Vale.

Perry looked around, and a seed of suspicion took root. It was difficult to tell in this new space, but they seemed too few in number. People were missing.

“Where’s Kirra?” he asked. He didn’t see her, or any of her people.

“Didn’t she tell you?” Marron said. “She left this morning. She told me they were going back to Sable.”

“When?” Perry demanded. “When did they leave?”

“Hours ago,” Bear said. “First thing this morning.”

That couldn’t be right. Perry had just seen Lark and Forest. Why would they have stayed behind?

Fear shot through him. He spun, running back to the horse he’d left outside with Twig. Ten minutes later, he thundered up to his house. The front door gaped open. He didn’t see a soul anywhere.

Perry stepped inside, his heart pounding. Gren lay on the floor with his hands and feet bound by rope. Blood streamed from his nose, and his eye was swelling shut.

“They took Cinder,” he said. “I couldn’t stop them.”

Half an hour later, Perry stood on the beach outside the cave with Marron and Reef. He pulled the Blood Lord chain over his head and held it in his fist.

Marron’s blue eyes widened. “Peregrine?”

Nearby, Reef stared at the sea, arms crossed, unmoving.

“I can’t take this with me.” Perry didn’t need to say why. With storms striking so often and the borderlands teeming with dispersed, leaving would be more dangerous than ever. “The Tides trust you,” he continued. “Besides, you like jewels better than I do.”

“I’ll keep it,” Marron said. “But it’s yours. You’ll wear it again.”

Perry tried to smile, but his mouth twitched. He wanted to wear the chain more than ever, he realized. He wasn’t the Blood Lord that Vale or his father had been, but he was still worthy. He was the right leader for the Tides now. And he knew he could carry the weight—his own way.

He handed the chain to Marron and headed up the beach with Reef. Twig waited at the trail with two horses. The only ones Kirra had left behind.

“Let me go,” Reef said.

Perry shook his head. “I have to do this, Reef. When someone needs me, I dive.”

After a moment, Reef nodded. “I know,” he said. “I know that now.” He ran a hand over his face. “You’ve got a week before I come after you.”

Perry remembered the day he’d gone after Aria. Reef had given him an hour that lasted ten minutes. He smiled. “Knowing you, that means a day,” he said, clasping Reef’s hand. He pulled his satchel over his shoulder, and picked up his quiver and bow. Then he mounted up and set off with Twig.

Perry’s throat tightened as they rode away. Weeks ago, he’d planned to leave his tribe behind, but now it was much harder than he’d expected. Harder than it had ever felt before.

His thoughts turned to Kirra as the afternoon wore on. She’d been after Cinder all along. Her questions about the Croven and his scarred hand hadn’t been about him. She’d been probing him for information, waiting for the right time—the right way—to snatch Cinder. She’d deceived Perry, just like Vale had.

Sable was behind this. Perry didn’t want to think about what use he had in mind for Cinder. He should’ve trusted his instincts. He should’ve sent Kirra away the day she’d shown up.

Kirra’s tracks moved north on a well-worn trader’s route. They’d been riding a few hours when Perry glimpsed movement in the distance. Adrenaline sparked through him. He spurred his horse, shooting forward, hoping to cut off Lark and Forest.

His stomach seized when he saw that it wasn’t either of Kirra’s men.

Twig pulled his horse alongside. “What do you see?”

Waves of numbness rolled through Perry. He couldn’t believe his eyes. “It’s Roar,” he said. “And Aria.”

Twig cursed. “Are you serious?”

Perry’s impulse was to call out to them. They were both Auds. If he raised his voice, they’d hear him. It was what he would have done once. Roar was his best friend. And Aria was …

What was she to him? What were they to each other?

“What do you want to do?” Twig asked.

Perry wanted to run to her, because she’d come back. And he wanted to hurt her, because she’d left.

“Perry?” Twig said, jarring him back.

He urged his horse on. They rode closer, and the moment came when Aria heard the horses. Her head turned in his direction, but her eyes remained unfocused, unseeing in the dark. He watched her lips form words he couldn’t hear and then heard Twig’s answer beside him.

“It’s me, Twig.” He paused, sending Perry a worried glance. “Perry’s with me too.”

Messages passed between Auds. Heard only by Aud ears.

Perry watched as Aria looked at Roar, her face tensing in a look of plain regret. No. It was more than regret. It was dread. After a month of being apart, she dreaded seeing him.

She reached out and took Roar’s hand, and he knew they were passing a message between them. Perry couldn’t believe his eyes. They didn’t think he could see them, but he did. He saw everything.

He was in fog as they reached each other. He dismounted and felt like he was floating. Like he was seeing everything from a distance.

He didn’t know what was happening. Why Aria wasn’t in his arms. Why there was no greeting or smile on Roar’s face. Then Aria’s temper hit him, and it was so heavy and dark that he felt himself sway, overcome by it.

“Perry …” She looked at Roar, her eyes blurring.

“What is it?” Perry asked, but he already knew. He couldn’t believe it. Everything Kirra had said—everything he’d tried not to believe about Roar and Aria—was true.

He looked at Roar. “What did you do?”

Roar wouldn’t meet his eyes, and his face was white.

Rage ignited inside of him. He lunged and shoved Roar, swinging, curses pouring out of him.

Aria shot forward. “Perry, stop!”

Roar was too quick. He gave ground, and trapped Perry by the arms. “It’s Liv,” he said. “Perry … it’s Liv.”

38

ARIA

Finally Roar spoke, and Aria’s heart broke at his words.

“I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop Sable. I’m sorry, Perry. It happened so fast. She’s gone. I lost her, Perry. She’s gone.”

“What are you talking about?” Perry said, shoving Roar away. He looked at Aria, confusion flashing in his green eyes. “Why is he saying that?”

Aria didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to make it real for him, but she had to. “It’s the truth,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

Perry blinked at her. “You mean … my sister?” The tone in his voice—vulnerable, tender—destroyed her. “What happened?”

As quickly as she could, she explained Hess and Sable’s deal to reach the Still Blue together, and about Talon as well. She hated to do it, but he needed to know Talon’s life was in danger. Liv, she saved for last. She felt light-headed as she spoke, breathless and detached, like when she’d been invisible in the Realms.

She hadn’t spoken for long, but when she finished, the woods felt darker, fading into the night. Perry looked from her to Roar, tears brimming in his eyes. She watched him battle with himself, struggling for focus. Struggling to keep himself together. “Talon is trapped in Reverie?” he said finally.

“Talon and thousands of people,” she answered. “They’ll run out of oxygen if we don’t get them out. We’re their only chance.”

He was moving to his horse before she’d finished speaking. “Go after Cinder,” Perry told Twig.

Aria had forgotten Twig was there. “What happened to Cinder?”

Perry swung into his saddle. “The Horns took him.” He rode up and held his hand down to her. “Let’s go!”

Aria glanced at Roar. Whatever she’d expected of today, leaving him hadn’t been part of it.

“I’ll go with Twig,” he said to her. The tension between him and Perry was still there.

Quickly she hugged Roar. Then she took Perry’s hand. He pulled her up behind him, and the horse began to move before she’d settled her weight.

Aria reached out instinctively, wrapping her arms around him as the horse galloped into the woods. Liv was forgotten for now. Roar and Cinder, too. Everything except Talon.

She could feel the ridges of Perry’s ribs through his shirt. The shift of his muscles. He was real and close, just as she’d wanted him to be for weeks—for months. But nothing had changed. He still felt far away.

39

PEREGRINE

Perry pushed the horse toward Reverie beneath a night sky writhing with Aether. Snatches of the horizon showed through the trees, pulsing with the light of funnels. They were heading south, right into the heart of a storm, but he had no choice. Talon was trapped.

Images of his sister flashed before his eyes. Senseless things. Liv pinning him down, when they were young, to run a brush through his hair. Liv wrapped in Roar’s arms at the beach, laughing. Liv arguing with Vale over the arrangement with Sable, almost going to blows. He couldn’t accept that he’d never see her again.

Talon was all he had now. He was the only family Perry had left. He glanced at Aria’s arms, wrapped tight around him. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he had more.

As they neared Reverie, a sharp scent carried on a warm gust, rustling through the trees. It brought a chemical taste to his tongue that he remembered from the night he’d broken into the Pod in the fall. Though he couldn’t see Reverie yet, he knew it was burning.

Soon after, the horse locked beneath him as they crested a hill, rearing up, nickering in terror. The broad valley that spread before him was a sight unlike anything Perry had ever seen. They’d ridden for hours—it was sometime in the middle of the night—but Aether lit up the flat expanse. Hundreds of funnels lashed down from the sky, leaving bright red trails across the desert. Perry tightened his grip on the reins as the horse stamped and tossed its head. No amount of training would quiet its instincts now.

Terror speared through him as the rounded form of the Pod came into focus. It sat directly beneath the thick of the storm, spewing clouds of smoke as black as coal. Much of it was concealed, but he remembered its shape from other times he’d been there. An enormous central dome like a hill, surrounded by smaller domes that branched off like the rays of the sun. Somewhere in there, he’d find Talon.

The horse wouldn’t settle. Perry turned in the saddle. “We can’t ride any farther.”

Aria jumped to the ground, no hesitation. “Come on!”

Perry grabbed his bow and ran after her, legs heavy from hours in the saddle. As they tore across the desert, he tried not to think of their odds, running miles through an Aether storm, with no shelter, no place to take cover.

Funnels struck down, each one louder, closer, sending searing waves across his skin. A sudden shriek exploded in his ears; then a flash of light blinded him. Forty paces away, a funnel of Aether twisted down, ripping across the earth. Every muscle in his body clenched, pain shuddering through him. Unable to soften his fall, he thudded onto the ground, the wind driven out of his lungs.

Aria crouched a few paces away, tucked in a ball, her hands jammed over her ears. She was screaming. The sound of her pain carried above the Aether, cutting through him. He couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t move to her. How could he have brought her here?

The brightness receded suddenly as the funnel spooled back up. Quiet roared in his ears. He fought to bring his feet beneath him and stumbled toward her. Aria shot toward him at the same time. They collided, slamming together, grasping for each other as they found their balance. Their eyes locked, and Perry saw his own terror mirrored on her face.

An hour passed in a heartbeat. Perry didn’t feel his weight. Didn’t hear his steps as he ran. Brilliant slashes of light surrounded them, and the deafening roar of the storm was constant.

They closed in on the Pod’s massive form, stopping half a mile away. Smoke billowed around them. Perry’s eyes and lungs burned. He couldn’t scent anything anymore. From where he stood, he could see that much of Ag 6, the dome he’d broken into months ago, had collapsed. Flames spewed a hundred feet in the air. He’d hoped to enter Reverie through it again. Now he saw they had no chance.

“Perry, look!”

The smoke shifted with the wind, drawing back like a veil. He saw another dome shimmering with blue light and spotted a vast opening. As he watched, two Hovercrafts streamed out of it, looking small as sparrows against the dome’s massive scale. They cut a seam through the desert, their lights fading into the smoky, flashing darkness.

“That has to be Hess,” Aria said. “He’s abandoning it.”

“That’s our way in,” he said.

They ran closer, huddling together at the side of the opening, which soared hundreds of feet tall. Inside, he saw Dweller ships lined in rows. He recognized the smaller craft from when they’d taken Talon. Bodies shaped like teardrops, sleek and shimmery as abalone shells. Beyond them loomed a ship that dwarfed the others, its form segmented like an earth crawler. Armed soldiers moved in controlled chaos, loading supply crates, directing the flight of one Hover after another in a rush to leave the Pod.

As he watched, a craft nearby sparked to life. Wings spread from its underbelly, a set of four like a dragonfly. Lights shot down their length, and then the air thrummed as the craft lifted off the ground. He flinched as it shot past with a deafening, buzzing sound.

Aria met his eyes. “The airlock into Reverie is at the other end.”

Perry saw it. The entrance was hundreds of yards away. He honed in on a group of men close by, his gaze finding the compact pistols at their belts.

“We can sneak past them,” Aria said. “They’re focused on leaving, not on defending the Pod.”

He nodded. It was their only shot. He pointed to a cluster of supply crates on palettes halfway down the hangar. There was a gap between them and the wall. “When the next Hover powers up, run for those crates. We can take cover behind them.”

Aria shot forward as soon as the Hover lifted off the ground. Perry sprinted, staying with her. They were almost to the crates when a cluster of soldiers saw them. Bullets struck the wall behind him, the sound quiet compared to the buzz of the Hovers. He reached the crates and pulled his bow off his back.

“We need to keep going!” he yelled. They couldn’t give the soldiers a chance to get organized. Aria drew her knife as they sprinted along the narrow corridor.

When they came through the other side, he saw a group of soldiers standing between them and the entrance. Three men. Two had drawn their weapons; the other one looked around in confusion. The only way he’d reach Talon was by getting past them.

Perry fired as they ran. His arrow struck the first man in the chest, sending him flying to the ground. Slashes of red cut past him as the Guardians shot back. The steel crates behind him clanged loudly. He fired at the second man, but it wasn’t enough. Aria surged ahead. She threw her knife at the third man, hitting him in the stomach. The man reeled back, firing his pistol.

“Aria!”

Perry’s heart seized as he watched her fall to the ground. He put an arrow clean through the man who’d shot her. Then he dashed to her, grabbing her by the waist and scooping her off the ground. She held her arm as they ran, blood running through her fingers. Perry pulled her with him, stooping to the floor to grab a pistol that had fallen by one of the downed soldiers. Across the hangar, people shouted in confusion as an alarm sounded.

More soldiers opened fire at them, but Perry noticed that most barely paused in their evacuation efforts. Perry’s finger found the trigger. He fired again and again, a distant part of his mind amazed at the ease and speed of the weapon.

With each step she took, Aria leaned more of her weight on him. They tore up a ramp and into the airlock chamber as people yelled behind him, their voices fading in and out of the alarms. He jammed at the door’s controls. It slid open, revealing stunned soldiers on the other side.

Perry pushed past them into a wide, curving corridor, the sounds of the alarm receding behind him. He didn’t know where he was going. Knew only that he needed to find safety. Take care of her. Find Talon.

Aria stopped suddenly. “Here!” She pressed her fingers into the control pad of a door, opening it, and they darted inside.

40

ARIA

Aria fell back against the wall. Dizziness rolled over her in waves. She needed to catch her breath. Her heart was beating too fast. She needed it to slow down.

Perry stood by the door, listening to the sounds in the hall. She had the fleeting thought that he looked comfortable with the gun in his hand, like he’d been using one for years instead of minutes. The shouts of Guardians grew louder.

“Forget it!” Aria heard outside. “They’re gone.” Then their footsteps faded.

Perry lowered the gun. He looked at her, his eyebrows drawn with worry. “Stay right there.”

She closed her eyes. The pain in her arm was immense, but her head was clear, unlike when she’d been poisoned. Oddly, the feeling of blood rolling down her arm and dribbling from her fingertips bothered her the most. She could function with pain, but losing blood would make her weak and slow her down.

The room was a supply repository for emergency evacuations. She’d learned of storerooms like this from Pod safety drills. Metal lockers ran in rows down the length. In them she saw hazard suits. Oxygen masks. Fire extinguishers. First-aid supplies. Perry ran to the nearest one, bringing back a metal case. He knelt and popped it open.

“There should be a blue tube,” she said through gasps, “for stopping bleeding.”

He rifled through it, coming up with the tube and a bandage. “Look at me,” he said, straightening. “Right at my eyes.”

He drew her hand away from the wound.

Aria sucked in a breath at the burst of pain that shot down her arm. She’d been hit on her bicep, but strangely, the worst pain was in her fingertips. The muscles in her legs began to shake.

“Easy,” Perry said. “Just keep breathing, nice and slow.”

“Is my arm still there?” she asked.

“Still there.” His lips pulled into a quick smile, but she saw the worry behind it. “When it heals, it’s going to match my hand perfectly.”

With firm, efficient movements, he applied the coagulant and then wrapped the bandage tightly around her arm. Aria kept her gaze on his face. On the blond stubble across his jaw, and the bend in his nose. She could look at him forever. She could spend her life watching him just blink and breathe that near to her.

Her eyes blurred, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or from the relief of being with him again. He brought a sense of rightness. She felt it every moment she spent with him. Even the wrong ones. Even the painful ones, like now.

Perry’s hands stilled. He looked up, and his gaze told her everything. He felt it too.

A tremor thrummed through the soles of her boots, and then the lockers rattled. The rumbling sound built. It kept going, growing louder and louder. The lights shut off. Aria searched the darkness, panic rising inside of her. A red emergency light above the door pulsed a few times and turned on, holding steady. Slowly, the noise faded.

“This place is coming down,” Perry said, tying off the bandage.

She nodded. “The corridor circles the Panop. If we stay on it, we should find an access door.” She pushed herself off the wall. The bleeding had slowed, but she still felt light-headed.

Perry peered through the door. The corridor had fallen into darkness, lit only by emergency lights every twenty paces. “Stay close to me.”

They ran along the curving corridor together, the wail of fire alarms echoing off the cement walls and filling her ears. Aria smelled smoke, and the temperature had spiked. The fires had moved inside the Pod. Her strength was draining rapidly, just as she’d feared. She felt like she was running underwater.

“Here,” she said, stopping at wide double doors marked PANOPTICON. “This is where Hess locked them in.” She pressed at the control board next to it. NO ACCESS flashed up on the screen. She tried again, stabbing at the panel in anger. They couldn’t be this close and not get inside.

She didn’t hear the Reverie soldiers rounding the bend toward them. The alarms had swallowed the sounds of their approach. But Perry saw them. A staccato of bright bursts exploded beside her as he fired. Down the corridor, the Guardians fell. Perry broke into a run, covering the distance to the soldiers with a shocking surge of speed. He wrenched one of the Guardians off the ground by the collar and returned with the struggling man, who’d been shot in the leg.

“Open the door,” he commanded, holding the Guardian in front of the panel.

“No!” The man twisted his body to break loose. In a flash, Aria saw her mother’s face. Lifeless, as she’d last seen her. She couldn’t fail again. Talon was in there. Thousands of people would die if they couldn’t get in.

With her good arm, she drew her knife and slashed it across the Guardian’s face. She caught him across the chin, the steel blade scraping against bone. “Get us in there!”

The man screamed and jerked back. Then he pressed desperately at the panel, entering an access code as he begged to be let go.

The doors slid open, revealing a long hallway.

She ran, her feet pounding on the slick floor, and froze as she came through the other side, into the Panop. Into her home.

She absorbed it instantaneously, feeling like a stranger. Rising up in a perfect spiraling corkscrew around the central atrium were the forty levels where she’d slept, eaten, attended school, and fractioned to the Realms.

It looked bigger, bleaker than she remembered. The gray color, which had once seemed almost invisible to her, now struck her as lifeless, suffocating in its coldness. How had she ever been happy here?

Then her eyes moved past the familiar and latched onto everything that was wrong. The smoke tumbling from the higher levels. Pieces of concrete crumbling, falling to where she and Perry stood. Flashes of people running—or chasing one another. The hair-raising screams of terror, fading in and out with the blare of the fire alarms. Hardest to believe were the groups of people sitting in the atrium lounges socializing normally, like nothing unusual was happening.

Aria spotted Pixie’s short black hair and sprinted over.

Pixie startled when she ran up, blinking in confusion. “Aria?” A smile spread over her face. “It’s so good to see you! Soren told us you were alive, but I thought he was just acting strange again.”

“Reverie is breaking! You need to get out of here, Pixie. You have to leave!”

“Leave to where?”

“To the outside!”

Pixie shook her head, fear flashing across her features. “Oh, no … I’m not going there. Hess told us to stay here and enjoy the Realms. He’s fixing everything.” She smiled. “Sit down, Aria. Have you seen the Atlantis Realm? The kelp gardens are champ this time of year.”

“We’re running out of time, Aria,” Perry said beside her.

Pixie seemed to notice him for the first time. “Who’s he?”

“We need to find Soren,” Aria said quickly. “Can you message him for me?”

“Sure, I’ll do that right now. But he’s not far. He’s just in the southern lounge.”

Aria turned to Perry. “This way!” As she ran to the other end of the atrium, an explosion shook the air and sent her staggering. Pieces of concrete fell around them, disintegrating as they struck the smooth floors. She covered her head, fear pushing her on. The only solution—their only hope of surviving—was to get out of there.

Up ahead, she saw a group running toward her. She spotted a familiar face, and then several others. She wanted to cry at the sight of them. Caleb was there, his eyes wide and disbelieving. Rune and Jupiter, running together. She saw Soren at the center of the pack, and then the boy beside him.

Perry broke away from her side. He covered the distance in long, powerful strides and swept Talon into his arms. Over Perry’s shoulder, she caught a glimpse of Talon’s smile before he buried his face in Perry’s neck.

She’d waited for months to see that sight. She wanted to savor it, if only for an instant, but Soren barreled up, his gaze boring into her.

“Took you long enough,” he said. “I kept my part of the bargain. Now you keep yours.”

41

PEREGRINE

I’m all right. Really, I’m all right,” Talon said. Perry held him as tight as he could without hurting him. “Uncle Perry, we have to go.”

Perry set him down and grasped his small hand. He took in his nephew’s face. Talon was healthy. And here.

Brooke’s younger sister, Clara, ran up and hugged his leg. Her face was red, and she was crying. Perry knelt. “It’s all right, Clara. I’m going to get you both home. I need you and Talon to hold hands. Don’t let go of each other, and keep close. Right next to me.”

Clara ran a sleeve over her face, wiping away tears, and nodded. Perry straightened. Aria stood with Soren, the Dweller who he’d fought months ago. Dozens of people had run up with him. They were alert and terrified, unlike the dazed people he had seen moments ago. He noticed they weren’t wearing Smarteyes.

“You brought the Savage?” Soren said.

Across the atrium, a sudden burst of flames spewed from a corridor. A second later, the wave of heat hit him. “We need to move, Aria. Now!”

“The transport hangar,” she said. “This way!”

They raced back to the Panop door, Soren and his group following. Aria called out as she ran, yelling to anyone who would listen to leave Reverie, but the peal of fire alarms and the thunder of smashing concrete swallowed even her voice. The people sitting in groupings on the ground floor didn’t move. They stayed blank-faced, oblivious to the chaos around them. Aria stopped in front of the girl she’d spoken to before and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Pixie, you have to get out of here now!” she yelled. This time the girl didn’t respond at all. She stared ahead, unresponsive. Aria turned to Soren. “What’s wrong with them? Is it DLS?”

“It’s that. It’s leaving her for the outside. It’s everything,” Soren answered.

“Can’t you shut off their Smarteyes?” she asked desperately.

“I’ve tried!” Soren said. “They have to do it themselves. There’s no getting through to them. They’re scared. This is all they’ve ever known. I did everything I could.”

An explosive boom filled Perry’s ears. “Aria, we have to leave.”

She shook her head, tears spilling from her eyes. “I can’t do this. I can’t leave them.”

Perry stepped toward her, taking her face in his hands. “You have to. I’m not leaving here without you.”

He felt the truth of his words settle like cold over him. He’d do anything to change it. Give anything. But no matter what they did, they couldn’t save everyone.

“Come with me,” he said. “Please, Aria. It’s time to go.”

She looked up, her gaze moving slowly across the crumbling Pod. “I’m sorry … I’m sorry,” she said. He put his arm around her, his heart breaking for her. For all the innocent people who deserved to live, but wouldn’t. Together they ran for the exit, leaving the Panop behind.

They raced back into the outer corridors, leading the pack of Dwellers. Black smoke poured from air ducts, and the red emergency lights pulsed slowly, stuttering on for a second, off for a few more. Perry kept track of Talon and Clara, but Aria worried him more. She held her arm close and was struggling to keep up.

They reached the transport hangar and darted inside. It looked abandoned, nothing like the teeming hub Perry had seen earlier. He didn’t see any soldiers, and only a handful of Hovers remained.

“Can you pilot any of these?” Aria asked Soren. The color had drained from her face.

“I can in the Realms,” Soren said. “These are real.”

People streamed in around them. Through the vast opening at the other end, the desert still flashed with the full power of the storm.

“Do it,” Perry said. He and Aria had barely survived the journey there. He saw no way of leading dozens of scared people—Dwellers who’d never set foot outside—into the wrath of an Aether storm.

Soren wheeled on him. “I don’t take orders from you!”

“Then take them from me!” Aria yelled. “Move, Soren! There’s no time!”

“There’s no way this works,” Soren said, but he ran to one of the Hovers.

The ship was immense up close, the material of the body seamless and pale blue, with the shimmer of a pearl. Perry grabbed Talon’s and Clara’s hands, pulling them up the ramp.

The cabin inside was a wide, windowless tube. To one side, through a small doorway, he saw the cockpit. The other end was packed with metal crates. A supply craft, he realized, though one that had only been partially loaded. The middle of the hold where he stood was empty, but quickly filling with people.

“Move all the way back and sit down,” Aria instructed them. “Hold on to something, if you can.”

He noticed the Dwellers wore the same gray clothes Aria had when he’d first seen her that night in Ag 6. They were fair-skinned and wide-eyed, and though he couldn’t scent their tempers through the smoke, their reactions to him were blatant, plain on their stunned faces.

He looked down at himself. He had blood and soot covering his battered clothes, and a gun in his hand. Besides that, he knew he’d look hard and feral in their eyes, just as they looked soft and terrified to him.

He wasn’t helping anything by being there.

“In here,” he told Talon and Clara, ushering them into the cockpit.

He bumped his head on the door as he entered and flashed on Roar, who would’ve made a wisecrack. Who should be there. Who Perry had treated awfully earlier. He couldn’t believe he’d questioned Roar’s loyalty. Suddenly, he remembered Liv. The air rushed from his lungs and his stomach twisted. At some point he’d think about his sister and end up on his knees, but not now. He couldn’t now.

The cockpit was small and dim, no bigger than Vale’s room, with a rounded window that curved along the front. Perry saw the exit at the far end of the hangar. Outside, thick black smoke flashed with Aether, concealing the desert.

Soren sat in one of the two pilot seats, cursing as he swiped at a smooth bank of controls. He must have sensed Perry’s attention, because he glanced back, hatred in his eyes. “I haven’t forgotten, Savage.”

Perry’s gaze went to the scar on Soren’s chin. “Then you remember the outcome.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

A small voice spoke up beside Perry. “Soren, he’s my uncle.”

Soren looked at Talon, his expression softening. Then he turned back to the controls.

Perry glanced at his nephew, surprised at the influence he had over Soren. How had that happened? He stashed the gun on a shelf beside a handful of other weapons, and had Talon and Clara sit against the back wall. Then he crouched, studying his nephew’s face. “You all right?”

Talon nodded, smiling tiredly. Perry saw traces of Vale in his deep green eyes, and noticed his front teeth had grown in. Suddenly he felt all the months they’d lost, and the full weight of his responsibility. Talon was his now.

He straightened as the engines buzzed to life. The panel in front of Soren lit up, the rest of the cabin falling into darkness.

“Hold on!” Soren yelled.

A murmur of alarm came from the people in the main cabin. Aria slipped through the door beside Perry, stepping into the cockpit just as the Hover rose with a lurch. He grabbed her by the waist, catching her as she stumbled. The craft surged forward, pushing Aria’s back against his chest. He locked his arms around her, holding tight as the walls of the hangar blurred past, the Hover gaining speed by the second. They shot outside and plunged into the smoke. Perry couldn’t see anything through the window but noticed that Soren navigated by the screen on the console in front of him.

In seconds they broke into clear air, and he stared in awe at the earth streaking past. He’d taken his name from a falcon, but never in his life had he thought he’d fly. Funnels lashed down across the desert, but they were fewer now. The pale light of dawn spread across the sky, softening the glare of the Aether. He felt Aria’s weight relax against him. Because he could, he rested his chin on top of her head.

As the Hover banked west, adjusting its course, Perry spotted Hess’s fleet, a trail of lights moving across the valley in the distance. He recognized the shape of the immense craft he’d seen earlier. Reverie came into view next, crumbling, consumed by smoke.

Aria watched, silent in his arms. His gaze trailed over the curve of her shoulder, the slope of her cheek. The dark flick of her eyelashes as she blinked. His heart filled with hurt. Hers. His. He understood exactly what she felt. He’d lost his home as well.

“Whenever you’re ready, Aria, maybe you could tell me where I’m going.”

Perry’s hands curled into fists at Soren’s tone. Aria turned and peered up at him in question. The bandage on her arm had bled through. She’d need medical care—and soon.

“The Tides,” he said, not as much suggesting it as saying what felt right. He had plenty of shelter to offer. And after what he’d just seen, he had a feeling the Dwellers would adapt to the cave faster than the tribe.

Aria’s gray eyes sparkled in the dim cabin. “The crates in the back are loaded with supplies. Food. Weapons. Medicine.”

He nodded. It was a simple decision. An obvious alliance. They were stronger together. And this time, he thought, the Dwellers would be welcome. Perry glanced at Soren. Most of them would be, at least.

“Head northwest,” Aria said. “Beyond that range of hills.”

Soren adjusted the steering control, pointing the craft toward the Tide Valley. Perry glanced down, eager to finally bring Talon home to the tribe. His nephew’s eyes were just drifting closed. Beside him, Clara slept.

Aria took his hand, leading him to the open pilot seat. Perry sat and pulled her into his lap. She turned and nestled against him, resting her forehead against his cheek, and for a moment he had everything he needed.

42

ARIA

Are you trying to make me crash?” Soren glanced at her from the other seat. The light of the controls made his face look sharper. Crueler. More like his father’s. Soren’s gaze moved to Perry. “Because that’s disgusting.”

Aria’s arm throbbed with pain, and her eyes burned from smoke and tiredness. She wanted to close them and fade into unconsciousness, but they’d reach the Tides soon. She had to stay focused.

Behind her, she heard the murmuring of the others in the cabin. Caleb was back there. She hadn’t even had a chance to talk to him yet. Rune and Jupiter were also there, and dozens of others—every one of them scared.

They needed her. She’d brought them out of Reverie. She knew how to survive on the outside. They’d need her guidance. It was her responsibility to watch over them now.

Perry brushed her hair over her shoulder and whispered by her ear, “Rest. Ignore him.”

The sound of his voice, deep and unhurried, traveled through her, settling warm in her stomach. She lifted her head. Perry watched her, his face drawn with worry. She brushed her fingers over the soft scruff on his jaw and then buried them in his hair, wanting to feel all the textures of him. “If you don’t like what you see, Soren, then don’t look.”

She saw the flash of Perry’s smile just before their lips met. Their kiss was gentle and slow, and full of meaning. They had hurried through every moment since he’d met her in the woods. While they’d been at the Tides’. On the race to Reverie. Now they finally had a moment together without hiding or rushing. There was so much she wanted to say. So much she wanted him to know.

Perry’s hand settled on her hip, his grip firm. She felt their kiss shift into something deeper as his mouth moved with more urgency over hers. Suddenly there was real heat between them, and she had to force herself to draw away.

When she did, a soft curse slipped through Perry’s lips. His eyes were half-lidded, unfocused. He looked as overcome as she felt.

Aria leaned by his ear. “We’ll pick that up when we’re alone.”

He laughed. “That better be soon.” He took her face in his hands and drew her close so their foreheads touched. Aria’s hair fell forward, making a wall, a space that was just theirs. That close, all she could see were his eyes. They were glossy, shining like coins beneath water.

“You broke me in half when you left,” he whispered.

She knew she had. She’d known then, when she’d done it. “I was trying to protect you.”

“I know.” He exhaled, his breath soft on her face. “I know you were.” He ran the back of his fingers over her cheek. “I want to tell you something.” He smiled, but the look in his eyes was mellow and tempting.

“You do?”

He nodded. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while. But I’m going to wait until later. When we’re alone.”

Aria laughed. “That better be soon.” She lay back against his chest and couldn’t remember feeling any safer than she did then.

Outside, the hills blurred past. She was surprised by how far they’d gone. They’d reach the Tides soon.

“I swear that almost made me sick,” Soren muttered.

Aria remembered their last hurried exchange through the Smarteye.

“What?” Soren said, scowling at her. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

“You said you knew where the Still Blue was.” Their connection had been cut off, just before he could tell her.

Soren grinned. “That’s right, I do. I saw everything Sable and my father talked about. But I’m not saying a word in front of the Savage.”

Perry’s arms tensed around her. “Call me that again, Dweller, and it’ll be the last thing you ever say.” He shifted his back, relaxing again. “And you don’t need to tell me anything. I know where it is.”

Aria looked up at Perry. She moved too quickly, and pain shot down her arm. She bit the inside of her lip, waiting for it to subside. “You know where the Still Blue is?”

He nodded. “That fleet was moving dead west. There’s only one thing in that direction.”

The realization struck her before he’d finished speaking. “It’s at sea,” she said.

Perry made a low sound of agreement. “I was never closer to it than when I was home.”

Soren’s mouth twisted in disappointment. “Well, you don’t know everything.”

Aria shook her head, in no mood for Soren’s games. “Just say it, Soren. What did you find out?”

Soren’s lip curled like he was ready to say something snide, but then his expression relaxed. When he replied, his voice was even, and lacked its usual bitterness. “Sable says he has to go through a solid wall of Aether before he reaches open sky.” He made a dismissive sound, low in his throat. “He says he can do it, but it’s a lie. No ship can do that.”

No ship could, Aria thought, but there was another way. She spoke at the same time Perry did.

“Cinder.”

43

PEREGRINE

The Hover passed the Tide compound and glided north along the coast. Soren had to take them over the open ocean to reach the protected cove outside the cave, the bluff too steep for the craft to negotiate. Perry noticed that the ride was rougher over water. As Aria dozed in his arms, he looked across to the horizon and felt a surge of hope. They didn’t have Cinder, or the might that Hess and Sable would have together, but the Still Blue was somewhere at sea, and no one knew the sea like the Tides did. The ocean was their territory.

Talon and Clara woke as the Hover put down on the beach. Perry had an explanation ready as to why they’d needed to leave the compound, but seeing the huge smiles on their faces, he decided he’d explain later.

“Tell me I didn’t just land in front of a cave,” Soren said.

Aria stirred in Perry’s arms. Slowly she unfolded her legs and rose from his lap. “We can get rid of him any time.”

“I wish you weren’t joking,” Perry said. He already missed the feeling of her weight against him.

Soren pushed the steering console away and stood. “That’s some kind of gratitude for saving your lives. You’re both welcome, by the way.”

Aria smiled. She held her hand out to help Perry up, her injured arm tucked against her side. “Who said I was joking?”

Perry rose and followed her into the main cabin, ignoring the gasps of the Dwellers huddled there. Resting his hand on Talon’s shoulder, he stood beside Aria as she pressed a control by the door. The hatch opened with a rush of air that carried the sound of the waves, lowering to the sand.

In the morning light, he saw the Tides stream out of the cave, filling in along the beach. They gaped at the ship, caught between disbelief and panic. Behind him, dozens of Dwellers stared at the world outside, their fear palpable, strong enough to scent even with his smoke-blunted nose.

Perry spotted Marron and Reef. Bear and Molly. His gaze moved past the brothers—Hyde, Hayden, and Strag. Past Willow and Brooke. In search of Roar and Twig. Regret hit him as he realized that neither of them was there. He had to find them—and Cinder—but first he and Aria had to settle the Dwellers into their temporary home.

Flea trotted to the bottom of the ramp, whining at the sight of Talon and wagging his tail. Wagging his entire body. Talon looked up, his green eyes shining with eagerness. “Can I go?”

“Sure,” Perry said, and watched him run down the ramp with Clara.

Talon didn’t get far before Flea jumped on him, knocking him to the sand. Clara shot past them and jumped into Brooke’s arms. The tribe rushed forward, surrounding them, until Perry lost sight of them both.

He looked at Aria beside him. There were still so many problems to solve, but they had brought Talon and Clara home, and rescued who they could from Reverie. It was a good beginning.

They would need to form a new tribe now, and find the Still Blue.

Perry held out his hand, remembering his approach to the Tides with her weeks ago. Their awkward silence and the distance they’d put between them. They’d taken their greatest strength and hidden it like a weakness.

“Should we try this again?” he asked.

Aria smiled. “The right way,” she said, and wove her fingers through his. “Together.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, thank you, Barbara Lalicki, for your support and guidance through the creation of this book. You steered me right many times with encouragement and sage advice. I am so fortunate to have an editor with the soul and talent of an artist. Thank you.

Andrew Harwell provided additional editorial input and helped in countless other ways. Andrew, you do it all with such a fantastic attitude. It is truly a pleasure to work with you. To Karen Sherman, my copyeditor: Thank you for your insight and thoroughness. You make me look good, and I would be nowhere without you. My gratitude also goes to the marketing, design, and sales folks at HarperCollins. There’s so much work behind the scenes. I appreciate your efforts very much.

Thank you to my ninja agents, Josh and Tracey Adams, for handling the business side so I can focus on the fun—I mean creative—side of things. You are wonderful. Thanks also to Stephen Moore for running the show in Los Angeles.

Lorin Oberweger, Eric Elfman, Lia Keyes, and Jackie Garlick were always available to brainstorm, read, or critique or just support me as I wrote Through the Ever Night. You are all invaluable to me.

The YA Muses—my home team of Katy Longshore, Talia Vance, Bret Ballou, and Donna Cooner—this wouldn’t be half as fun without you. Thank you so much for sharing this journey with me. YAH-Muses!

One of the most rewarding aspects of being a writer is belonging to the writing community. Thank you, Apocalypsies, for bringing me great friendships and much support during my debut year. A few years ago, the SCBWI opened a door for me. In particular, thanks to Kim Turrisi. I aspire to be like you by someday opening a few doors for others, too.

My family is my greatest treasure. My parents, in-laws, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews … I could write another book or two or ten telling you how much I love you. Thank you for believing in me. To Michael, Luca, and Rocky: You are the point of everything.

Last, but certainly not least, to the bloggers and readers out there—to you—thank you for sharing your time with Perry and Aria. Many of you have reached out to me and touched me deeply with your support and enthusiasm. Thank you.

Now, are you ready? It’s time to head Into the Still Blue....

CREDITS

Cover art © 2013 by Gustavo Marx/MergeLeft Reps, Inc.

Cover design by Michelle Taormina

COPYRIGHT

THROUGH THE EVER NIGHT

Copyright © 2013 by Veronica Rossi

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

www.epicreads.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN 978-0-06-207206-1 (trade bdg.)

ISBN 978-0-06-224710-0 (int. ed.)

EPub Edition © NOVEMBER 2012 ISBN: 9780062072085

Version 02012013

12 13 14 15 16 LP/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

FIRST EDITION

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Copyright

1

The breeze that wafts by me is deceptive. It carries the scent of burning sage, a scent we associate with happy occasions, like marriage ceremonies and harvest festivals. Marron believes the herb will lift our mood and help us all forget we’re living in a cave.

Like that’s possible.

The sage does not mask the reek of illness and brackish water. It does nothing against the cold in here. Cold that is bone-cracking. Skin-splitting. Nor does the sage have any effect on the darkness, darkness so complete it sucks you under like a riptide, pressing the air out of your lungs and teasing nightmares from your imagination. The sage does not keep me from seeing stone walls everywhere I look, rough and gouged surfaces, like meat clawed from an animal.

There is no forgetting where we are. No amount of good smell can take my mind off this cold, stale grave, or the Aether that’s put us here by destroying the world outside.

I look around me, at the Dweller cavern where I am stuck helping Molly. This place is the most desperate of all.

“Help me,” someone rasps behind me.

“Water,” moans another voice off in the shadows.

The sounds of the Dwellers wheezing and moaning have not ceased since I arrived.

They are sick. Every one of them is struggling to survive out here, out of their home, the Dweller Pod.

I kneel by a young Dweller girl wrapped in wool blankets. She is around my sister’s age, eight, and has a complexion as gray as ash. Her eyes are rolling back with fever and she looks a little monstrous, but I can’t make myself care. My sister has been back less than a day. I should be with Clara instead of this stranger.

Seeing her sorry condition, I don’t even bother trying to give her water. If I do, it’ll just run down the side of her face, like it did for the last three people before her. So I stand and move on to the next Dweller.

“Everything all right, Brooke?” Molly calls from across the cavern.

I stop mid-stride, the jug sloshing a few drops onto my hand. “Yes, Molly. Everything’s great.” I’m sure my disgust for the Dwellers is apparent on my face. “Just trying to figure out which one of them looks the worst. It’s not easy to do.”

Twelve hours ago, the Moles arrived on a ship with Perry and his new toy, Aria. The Dwellers were forty-some in number. None has succumbed to illness yet and died, as far as I know. When they first saw us, every one of them looked terrified, like they expected us to roast them alive for supper. I enjoyed that moment.

Not even an hour later, the first Dwellers fell ill with fever. And then it was like an avalanche of illness as they dropped off, one after another, until they were all teetering on the edge of consciousness. Molly had them brought back here, to this isolated cavern in the deeper recesses of the cave, to sweat and moan and fight for their lives.

Gren told me most of this, because I left right after their arrival. The Dwellers weren’t the only ones who came from their Pod on the Hover. My sister, Clara, did too. As soon as I set eyes on her, I didn’t see anything else. Clara had been gone for a year, and I had missed her every single day she was gone.

“Just keep going in order,” Molly says to me now. “Take them one at a time. They all need help.”

I glance around me at the shivering, sickly bundles. What they need is a miracle. “Why do we keep giving them water if they just throw it back up?”

“Because they’ll dehydrate otherwise.”

“But they’re not keeping it down.”

Molly rises from the Dweller she’s been helping and comes over. She grunts a little as she kneels at my side. With the added work and the moisture in the cave, her joints are bothering her more than usual.

“They might keep a little down,” she says. “We have to hope for that.” She studies the Dweller before her—a girl my age—and her face softens with sympathy. The girl is delicate as a bird, with short black hair that spikes up like the leaves of an artichoke. Her green skin color only enhances the resemblance. Like that of all the Dwellers around me, her immune system collapsed. She looks ready for a burial at sea.

“Her name is Rune.” Molly runs a hand over the girl’s head, smoothing down her hair. “I spoke with her briefly when she stirred a little while ago. She’s one of Aria’s friends.”

I can’t believe she touches them. “And you’re telling me this why?”

Molly’s amber eyes find mine. She shakes her head slightly, but her expression is kind. “You could make more of an effort, Brooke.”

“I’m making an effort, Molly. Many efforts, in fact. I’m giving them water. I’m holding buckets while they retch. You know the boy? The burly one—Soren? He vomited on me ten minutes ago. Spewed on me. Look at my sleeve.” I hold it out, showing her. How much more am I supposed to do? I left my sister’s side to be here.

Molly watches me like she’s not sure if she wants to say something else. I notice the lines around her eyes. Her face holds a sheen of perspiration, a few heavier drops beading over her thin lips. She’s exhausted. She’s been here since the Dwellers came in. I wish she didn’t care so much about everyone. It’s sucking the life out of her.

Her attention shifts, her eyes twinkling with reflected lamplight as they take in the feverish Dwellers around the cavern. “You’re right.” Molly pushes a strand of hair away from her face and lets out a long sigh. “We need to find another way to handle this. I’d better have a talk with Marron to see what else we might do.” With a muffled groan, she stands. “You’ll need to stay here alone for a few minutes.” She hesitates. “Try to be nice, Brooke?”

“Sure. I’ll try,” I grumble, though I’ll do no such thing. People who try to be nice are false. They’re liars. You should never force your behavior to be a certain way. You should just be. Maybe it’s not going to be nice, but at least it’ll be honest. “When you get back, can I go? I want to see my sister.”

I can’t get enough of Clara. She’s changed so much in a year. Not just in the way she looks—taller, thinner, and older. She talks like the Dwellers now, all sharp-edged. She even moves like them, a little hesitant, a little poised. I need to draw that out of her.

“You’ll see her again soon. We all have to pull our weight around here, and don’t forget that it was the Dwellers who brought Clara back.”

“It was the Dwellers who took her.”

“Her abduction was more than just their doing.”

I can’t disagree with that.

Vale, Perry’s brother, was as responsible for Clara’s abduction as the Dwellers were. Even more so, since he was our Blood Lord. It was his responsibility to protect us, but what did he do? He sold my sister and he sold his own son, Talon.

For food.

Then he tried to frame Perry for it.

I’m not the only one of the Tides who still has a hard time accepting how crooked Vale was. It’s strange how you can know something—know the pointy, sharp truth—but still want to bend and blunt the edges so it fits better in your mind.

Molly gives me a wink and walks away, knowing she’s won our little debate.

When she’s gone, I kneel next to Soren. I found out from Molly earlier that he was helping Aria inside the Pod. I should dislike him for that, but he’s the healthiest one here, so he’s my favorite. Even though he soaked my sleeve.

“If I give you water again, will you keep it down this time?” I ask, seeing that his eyes are open. Barely, but they are.

“Can’t make any promises,” Soren rasps. He’s kidding around, which is another reason he’s my favorite. This place is hell. If you can joke in here, then you can make light of just about anything.

“Well, aim to the side this time, all right?”

He nods and parts his lips. I bring the water to them and pour it in slowly. He’s sallow and sweaty, but he wouldn’t be bad-looking if he weren’t a Dweller. He has a strong face, with a heavy brow and eyes that look like they don’t miss much, even in their glazed, sickly state.

All the Dwellers are fair, with no wrinkles or scars or blemishes. I guess those qualities were done away with in the Pods. I feel very lucky that I look as good as they do—or better, actually—just by plain good fortune.

I can tell Soren is taking small, careful sips so as to keep the water down. “What’s your name again?” he croaks when he’s finished.

“Not telling you again.” All I need is forty Dwellers moaning “Brooke” to me all day long.

Drinking has made Soren out of breath. He’s panting a little when he says, “Outside . . . what’s happening?”

“Aether. Lots of it.”

His eyes narrow like he’s trying to picture the sky outside, and a small worry line appears on his brow. “How are we going to—”

“There’s nothing you can do to help,” I assure him, “especially in your pathetic condition, so just go back to sleep.” I get up and move on to the next person.

Molly says I’m not making enough of an effort with these people, but I really don’t think she’s been paying attention.

My path through the cavern is methodical. And targeted. I work my way toward Aria, who I’ve avoided until now.

I didn’t want Molly watching me around her. I didn’t want to feel like she was policing me. Like she thought I might hurt Aria. Being suspected of that would streak me, even though the idea of doing her harm does hold some appeal.

It takes me ten minutes to reach Aria’s side. Glancing around to make sure no one is watching me, I kneel next to her, moving as quietly as I can. She is in a deep sleep or maybe unconscious, but she is an Aud. I don’t want to take any chances that I’ll wake her.

As I look her over, my heart starts thudding and my face warms with anger.

Her right arm is bandaged, but blood seeps through the wrap, staining the white gauze with bright red spots.

Her arm was shot, apparently.

It’s becoming infected, apparently.

I should feel bad for her, I suppose.

I don’t.

She looks good for someone who’s wounded. That actually is apparent. Her hair is as black as the darkness around me but still shines like a diamond. Her skin is as pale as the moon, and she breathes like an Aud.

Soundlessly. Elegantly. Gently.

I am blond and strong and loud and determined, and no one will ever call me elegant. No one will ever see me as gentle. She is everything I’m not.

And Perry chose her.

Over me.

I let out a slow, shaky breath. Leaning closer to her, I picture Perry kissing her. Coals heat in my stomach, warming with every second that passes. The heat becomes unbearable; I nearly expect to see a glow through my shirt.

I can’t stand it anymore and have to let it out. Words pour from my lips.

“You probably can’t hear me,” I whisper, “but I hate you. I hate that you took away who I love. He was mine and we were happy until you came along. Maybe you think you fixed that by bringing Clara back, but you didn’t. Perry should be mine. Not yours.”

I sit back on my heels. The coals are still sizzling inside me. That didn’t make me feel any better.

Footsteps close in behind me. My heart almost leaps out of my throat as I whirl and see a figure emerging from the shadows.

Perry.

I thank the skies he’s not an Aud or he’d have heard everything I just said. Then I remember that he is a Scire, and two thoughts spring into my head: he will know my hateful feelings toward Aria, and he will smell vomit on me.

Standing, I pull my sleeve behind my back and summon my happiest memory in hopes of softening the bitterness I’m certain is in my temper.

Clara’s giggle comes to mind. The burbling sound my sister makes when she laughs—hopefully preserved despite her time with the Dwellers—is all I can come up with, but it’s enough to make me smile.

Perry stops in front of me, but his eyes hold on Aria for a beat. His hair is pulled back, with the shorter strands pinned behind his ear. “Hey, Brooke.”

“Hey, Per.” I’m relieved that I sound calm.

His weight settles to one hip as he looks around. “Doesn’t look like there’s been much improvement.”

My eyes stray to his narrow waist and then to the dusty leather pants that skim his long, muscular legs. He is nineteen now, and the only boy left in him is his ranginess. The leanness that makes him look even taller than he is.

I take in his crooked nose, his steep cheekbones. The bright green of his unrelenting eyes. He is weathered and softened like a seashell. Beautiful in the exact opposite way of the plain perfectness of the Dwellers.

He looks back at me, waiting for me to respond. I want to say that he improved this place the second he appeared. It’s the kind of thing I would have said once. But I just say, “Not really. If anything, they’re worse.”

“How is she doing?” he asks, tipping his chin.

The coals in my stomach crackle with heat. While I’ve been mooning over how beautiful he is, he’s been thinking about Aria.

I’m losing to a girl who’s unconscious.

“I don’t know.” An hour ago, Molly and Marron huddled by Aria as they discussed her injury, but I wasn’t listening. All I know is that the wound seems to be festering, but that’s true for many things around here.

Perry lets out a slow breath, and his focus settles on me squarely. He is no longer thinking about Aria. He is thinking about me. I know because a shadow falls over his eyes and he suddenly looks guilty. Maybe even a little worried.

“Take a walk with me, Brooke?”

I didn’t expect that. “I can’t right now,” I blurt. All I’ve wanted for months is time alone with him, but now I find myself trying to escape it. “Molly wanted me to—”

“I just saw her. She’s sending Marron and a few others over. She said you’re free to go.”

“Oh. All right.”

As we walk out, I’m glad he’s in front of me so I can try to gather myself. I know nothing is going to happen between us, but it doesn’t appear that my body is aware of this. My pulse races, and anticipation curls through me. It’s a familiar feeling. Six months ago we’d sneak into this cave, Roar and Liv trailing behind us, and I would land in Perry’s arms.

“Brooke,” he says, turning suddenly. We are somewhere in one of the jagged corridors that weave through the caverns inside the mountain. There’s a lantern far ahead, but the light is dim. I can only see the soft glint of the Blood Lord chain at Perry’s neck. “How are you doing?”

Sounds bounce around in all this rock, and though he is two paces away, it feels as though he whispered the question right into my ear. Gooseflesh prickles the skin on my arms.

“Clara’s back. Liv is dead. How do you think I am?”

It’s a rude comment, but I don’t know what else to say. He rejected me. Does he really expect me to confide in him? And I don’t know why he’s asking me that question, anyway. If anyone knows how I am, it’s Perry. His nephew, Talon, was missing just like Clara. And Liv was his sister. He lost her too.

There are no words to describe the emotions colliding inside me. My friend is gone; my sister is back. I am scalding and yet I’m chilled to the bone. I am angry. I am sadder than I’ve ever been in my life. My emotions rise and fall like the stoop and soar of a hawk.

I am scared. I am alone. I don’t know what I am, and I miss him, and he shouldn’t ask me that question, because he knows. He can scent it. He is living it. He is breathing my pain.

Perry lets out a slow breath. “Can I do anything?”

“You have enough to do.”

“I care about you, Brooke.”

“No, you don’t. I know who you care about.” I point to the Dweller cavern. “She’s in there.”

I don’t want to say any of this. There are times I wish I had a cork to stopper my mouth.

Perry takes a step closer, his voice growing softer and quieter. “Aria and I are together, and that’s not going to change. But I want us to change. I want us to move past this.”

“There is no us anymore, Peregrine. You made sure of that.”

I can’t look into his worried eyes for another second, so I stare at the links of his chain. I want to wrap my fingers around it and pull his mouth down to mine. I want to feel his lips. His tongue. His body.

It makes no sense. He broke my heart and I still want him so much. How is that possible?

Maybe I caught the Dwellers’ fever. Maybe I’m delirious.

We are quiet for a long, long stretch that’s probably only seconds. But I can’t leave and he can’t leave, and every time he speaks, I feel worse.

“Brooke . . . you’re one of the best people I know,” he says softly, breaking our silence.

The words fall like frost on my skin. “Am I, Perry? That’s great to know.” I step forward. He doesn’t back away. I have to tilt my head up to see into his eyes. We’re only inches apart. Not as close as I want us to be. “Well, you know what? You’re one of the best Blood Lords I know. How does it feel to be almost the best?”

Silence. A muscle flexes in his jaw, but he doesn’t speak.

“It’s a bit like not being good enough at all, isn’t it?” I say.

“You’re twisting my words. That’s not what I meant to—”

“It is, Perry. It is what you meant. Admit it. I’m not good enough for you.”

Before he can say another word, I spin and head into the darkness. I don’t even bother trying to walk. I run.

My feet strike the hard stone ground at a reckless pace, but I don’t hear a sound. Not my footfalls, or my own breathing. There is only a desperate plea, filling my thoughts.

Get out of my heart, Perry.

Please. Get out of my heart.

2

With the hours I spent helping Molly, I missed supper with my sister. That streaks me more than anything else has today.

My stomach rumbles loudly with hunger, like it’s demanding to be heard. I imagine it taunting me: You thought vomit and brokenheartedness was all? Foolish of you.

I want to find Clara, but first I make a quick detour to the cluttered cavern that serves as our kitchen, grateful to find a leftover piece of bread. It’s burnt and so hard it feels like a log, but it’s food. I pull the dagger from my belt and cut the center, then wedge a thick slice of goat cheese inside. I head for the main cavern, managing not to chip any teeth as I wolf down my meager meal.

When we found out we’d be moving from the Tide compound to this cave, Marron took it upon himself to make it as livable as possible. He had a wooden platform installed at the center of the main cavern—a raised dais, about a foot and a half tall and forty feet square. His idea was that people needed a smooth place to sit and eat.

It seemed like a lot of trouble to go to at the time, but he was right to have it built. It’s the area where the tribe gathers now. The platform always has at least a dozen people sitting on it and along its perimeter. It’s where we socialize and spend our free time—what little we have of it.

The platform is my first stop in my search to find Clara, and I’m smiling before I even get there. Just thinking about my sister makes me forget Perry’s you’re one of the best people comment.

“Brooke!” Gren calls out. He stands to the left of the platform. Gren is one of the Six. The three Seer brothers are with him as well. Twig isn’t here—he’s away with Roar—and Reef is absent too, probably off growling at someone about something. So at this very moment, the Six are actually the Four.

Despite being relatively young, the Six are harder-edged than the men born into my tribe. “Borderland tough,” my father says of them. Fighters to the core. They used to be a wandering pack that had no allegiance to a Blood Lord. They’d still be in the borderlands if it weren’t for Perry, who won their loyalty and brought them into the Tides.

Perry is like that. Always gathering strays. I see evidence of it everywhere. In Marron and the Six. In the Dwellers. Even in a mutt like Flea. Perry never turns anyone away.

Only me.

“Hey.” I walk up to them, resting a hand on my hip. From the corner of my eye, I see bread crumbs on my chest, so I brush them off.

Hyde’s cheeks turn radish red as a blush creeps over them. Hayden and Straggler start elbowing each other. Gren’s smile widens, his eyes leaving my face and straying downward.

I roll my eyes. Gren and Hayden are in their twenties, unlike Hyde and Straggler, who are closer to my age of nineteen, but they all behave as though they are twelve. Collectively. “What do you need?” I ask Gren.

“You, Brooke,” he says immediately. “I need you.”

I shake my head. Here we go.

“I do too,” says Hayden. “I’m desperate for you.”

“Don’t listen to them, Brooke,” says Hyde. “I need you.”

“I need you the most,” says Straggler, the youngest brother.

“Keep out of this, boy-man. You don’t know anything about women.”

“That’s why I need her the most! Teach me, Brooke!”

I let them go on for a little while. I like the Six. I’ve known every male in the Tides since I was born, and I’m related to almost half of them, so it’s fun having new boys around. They joke constantly, but I’ve fought alongside them and I trust them. They might be a little crass, but they respect me. I’d beat them blue if they didn’t.

“Have you seen my sister?” I say, cutting them off.

Silence falls over them. Their smiles fade, and they look at one another like I’ve just given them a complicated problem to solve. Thankfully, Bear, who is sitting nearby, overhears.

“With your parents,” he calls over. “They’ve taken her to bed.”

“See you,” I say to the Six. I head to the tucked-away section of the main cavern where we have tents set up, hoping I’ll catch Clara before she falls asleep.

Gren jogs up beside me, so silent he’s almost at my side before I notice him. His ruddy, wavy hair looks like hammered copper in the dimness. He is the biggest joker of the Six. When there’s mischief happening, he’s usually at the helm, so I’m almost smiling before he speaks.

“Something came up on the afternoon patrol. Intruders were spotted.”

A little surge of adrenaline shoots through me. I stop. “Intruders?”

Gren’s mouth is set in a grim line. He nods. “A small group of people. Well inside the northeast border.”

“Who? How many?”

“Don’t know for sure. Maybe three or four. Morgan and Pierce were out there. They didn’t get a good look.”

Morgan and Pierce aren’t Seers. Their vision is half as powerful as mine. I would have seen everything. I should have been there this afternoon instead of serving water to Moles.

When we moved to this cave, we gave up the Tide compound, but this is still our territory. We still protect our land. We have to defend our food and our shelter; we can’t afford to lose either. Gren’s news could mean real trouble. Strangers on Tide land could mean a raid.

“Does Perry know?” I ask.

“Reef’s telling him now. We’re going out for a closer look tonight. You free?”

There’s a big part of me that wants nothing more than to curl up next to my sister and fall asleep. But I’m a Tider. This tribe is my family, and I’ll do anything to protect it. “Give me a little time to see Clara, but I’ll be there.”

Gren smiles. “Great.” He walks away, then pauses and turns back. “I told you we needed you.”

Slipping through the heavy canvas flaps of our family’s tent, I find my mother and sister sitting on bed pads on the floor. Mother is brushing Clara’s hair, and they’re both facing me, their faces glowing with light from the lamp that rests on the small crate beside them.

Though they look alike, like mother and daughter, like me, with large blue Seer’s eyes and heart-shaped faces, their expressions couldn’t be more different.

My mother is smiling. She was talking, as she pulled the brush through Clara’s long hair, until I entered. Now her hand has stilled, and her excited, joyful face is lifted to me.

For the past year, I listened to her cry every night. I wondered if she’d ever be happy again. I wondered if she’d ever stop.

I won’t be here tonight, but I know she won’t cry.

Her daughter is back. Her little girl. Her sunbeam, as she calls Clara.

And Clara is a sunbeam. Bright and golden and cheerful. The child whose shrieks of laughter could always be heard in the compound. The one who always ran from one place to another, never walking. Never doing anything without an extra kick of energy.

The girl whose hair is being combed doesn’t look golden or cheerful anymore.

Clara’s face still has baby-fat roundness, but her blue eyes are serious, adult eyes. I glimpse the fearful, lost look in them just before she covers up with a smile.

“Hi, Brookie,” she says, a sunbeam again. So bright she is blinding. So bright you can’t even see her.

I cross to my mother and plant a kiss on top of her head.

She laughs. “What’s that for?”

I don’t hand out affection easily. “Just because.” Because I want to keep you happy.

I hold out my hand. “Can I take over?”

“Sure.” My mother gives me the brush and scoots away. “I’m going to get us some water and a few more blankets. It’s going to be cooler tonight.”

It’s not. The temperature in here doesn’t fluctuate. It’s always uncomfortably cool. But I know she wants everything to be perfect for Clara’s first night back.

Mother pauses at the tent flap, looking from me to Clara. The love in her eyes is so strong it feels like an embrace. “My beautiful girls,” she says, and then slips out.

I sit behind Clara and pull the brush through her hair, letting the silence settle. People are bedding down in the tents around us. With each drag of the bristles through my sister’s butter-blond hair, the sounds of footsteps and voices grow quieter.

“Do you miss Liv?” Clara asks. Her voice is so soft I almost can’t hear her.

I don’t know how she learned about Liv. From Talon? From Mother? And what else does she know that will surprise me? Once, I could anticipate everything Clara said and did. A year apart has changed that.

“Yes. I do miss her,” I answer.

“But are you going to be all right? Without her, I mean?”

My eyes well up. Clara is the only one who has asked me that. Everyone else is too worried about the Aether, or about the Dwellers, or about Cinder and Roar. “You’re back, Clara. So, yes. I will be.”

“I should be too. Because I’m back.”

I set the brush down on my lap. What she isn’t saying is much louder than what she is saying. I can’t pretend I don’t know what she means. “But you aren’t, are you?”

Clara shakes her head.

A lump rises in my throat. “Why, sweetie?”

Her narrow little shoulders shrug. It was a stupid question anyway.

Clara wasn’t harmed in Reverie. The Dwellers treated her well enough, it seems. But she was taken away from us for a year and made into a test subject. Now we’ve gotten her back, but the world is burning, the sky is one great blanket of Aether, and we’re living in a rotten, dark, horrible cave.

Clara isn’t the only one who has changed in the past year. The Tides have. Everything has.

She has every reason in the world to be scared and lost.

“Have you told Mom?” I whisper.

Clara shakes her head violently, and I know we’re thinking the same way. The least she can do—the least either of us can do—is spare our parents any more pain. They have suffered enough.

It’s the same reason I haven’t told my mother how I hurt over losing Liv. How I ache whenever I see Perry. How I even miss stupid, irresistible Roar, who should be here. Roar is exasperating, but at least he’d understand what I’m going through. But he’s not here.

My closest friend is dead. Roar is away. Perry has chosen another. There are no other options for me. I can’t turn to anyone else.

We are all hurting and missing people. Everyone is scared, so you can’t talk about your worries because worries are everywhere. When everyone you know is on the verge of drowning, you don’t stop to tell the person next to you that you don’t like swimming.

You just don’t.

I set the brush aside and wrap my arms around Clara. She is bigger than I remember, but she still feels so small. I pull her close and she curls against me, turning so I can see her face. Clara’s wide eyes look up at me. Beautiful Seer eyes. I know what she’s feeling. She’s lost, but I’ll help her. I’ll be anything she needs me to be.

“It’ll be fine, Clara. You’re here. We’re together. I promise nothing will ever happen to you again.”

That seems to calm her, so I keep saying it. Over and over. Gradually, I feel some of the tension seep out of her rigid little back, and she relaxes, her weight settling more fully on me.

I press my nose to her forehead and breathe in her sweet smell. I haven’t seen a strawberry in weeks, but somehow my sister smells of them. It’s her natural fragrance; even Perry and Liv always said so.

She is a sunbeam that smells of strawberries. Everything to me.

I kiss her head and hold her tighter. “I missed you so much.”

Clara doesn’t reply. She has already fallen asleep.

I hold her for a while longer, feeling grateful. So grateful she is here. And then, like a landslide that begins with a small pebble, my mind turns to Perry, and then to Liv, and then to Roar, and finally to how the four of us used to be.

I used to feel so carefree and alive when we were together. Lighter than air. Now when I think of them, I feel only the heavy, hot coals in my stomach.

I have to change this. I can’t do anything about Liv or Roar, but I have to let go of Perry. I don’t want him to take up space in my mind any longer. I need to be strong so I can help Clara.

I decide right then: I’ll do whatever it takes to put Peregrine behind me.

I am moving on.

Starting now.

3

When my mother returns, I help her tuck Clara in. Then I tell her I’m going out on night watch.

She understands. She doesn’t ask questions like my father would if he were here. Father would insist on coming with me. He was a great warrior once, but now he’s older, and I’m faster and sharper without him. I grab my bow and quiver, kiss Clara and Mom good-bye, and jog out to the main cavern before he arrives.

Most everyone has gone to the tents to sleep. Only a few lamps still burn around the perimeter of the platform, illuminating a dozen stray people. I spot a tall figure holding a bow, and my heartbeat stutters. Then he rises to his feet, and I see that it’s just Hyde.

He joins me, flicking the blond fringe out of his eyes. “You’re with me tonight. The others headed out ten minutes ago.”

Hyde is the middle brother of the Seers. I rarely see him without Hayden or Straggler. “You were left behind by Straggler?” I ask.

Hyde smiles. “It happens.” He shifts the bow and quiver on his shoulder. “Ready?”

“Yes, Hyde. I am ready.”

Since I made my decision about Perry, I’m feeling much more optimistic. I am finished with grief and rejection. Tonight I’m not just driving away intruders from Tide territory. I’m driving away unwelcome, unhealthy, unhappy thoughts. I’m reclaiming the territory of my mind and heart.

We leave the cave, trading the smell of sage and standing water for the outside smells: burning forest mixed with fresh ocean scent, and that peculiar prickle of the Aether, which isn’t a scent so much as a creeping, crawling sensation over your skin.

It’s much brighter outside, thanks to the Aether churning in glowing blue eddies above us. That sight used to send us running for the shelter of our homes. Now we are accustomed to it. Now we live in a cave.

“Fierce,” Hyde says, his eyes on the sky.

“I’ll protect you.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe that.”

His tone is light, but I know he means it. I might not be six and a half feet tall or weigh two hundred pounds, but I fight as well as any of the Six.

We cross the small strip of sand to the switchback path that climbs to the bluff above.

Hyde’s bow bounces gently on his wide back as he walks. It’s a beautiful bow, fashioned from a slender, straw-colored piece of yew. It matches Hyde. His build and his hair. An expert bow for an expert archer.

Hyde is one of the best, like me. I smile to myself.

My plan is working. Already Perry’s words don’t hurt as much.

We crest the bluff and head due east, following the route Reef described to Hyde earlier. Then we walk an hour and a half until we reach the top of the gentle slope, which affords a clear view of the easternmost border of Tide land.

This area is one of the few places in our territory that hasn’t succumbed to fires from Aether storms, and the oak trees along this ridge are majestic and ancient. Hyde and I settle on a fallen branch that’s as large as an ordinary tree.

We can see miles away—toward our eastern border. If there are intruders crossing into Tide land, we’ll spot them from here. Now there’s nothing left to do except that all-important job of being a sentry—waiting.

Before us, the valley slopes down to a grass clearing woven through by a line of trees that follow a dry creek bed.

My eyes wander to the largest tree.

The first time with Perry was there.

That night comes back to me with perfect clarity, and my face warms as I remember how he looked and how I felt. How we were both trembling and trying not to laugh in our fumbling, breathless eagerness.

Then my memories sink deeper, and I am with Liv earlier that night. She’d pulled me behind the cookhouse after supper.

“I love him,” she said. “I’m ready. Roar and I are ready.”

That was the moment I decided Perry and I were ready too.

“Brooke, you two don’t have to just because we are,” Liv said.

“I love him too,” I told her.

Liv just stared at me, and I remember thinking, She knows. She knows Perry doesn’t love me. She would scent it, as a Scire. Know it, as his sister.

It was the kind of thought that flew like a sparrow through my mind. There and gone. I didn’t want to trap it and examine it then. Perry and I were happy. We had fun together. And I wanted to believe that fun would lead to better things. Deeper feelings between us.

So I hoped.

It’s strange now to think the four of us lost our virginity on the same night. It’s the sort of thing that would reinforce the Dwellers’ view of us as savages, if they knew. But I wouldn’t have had the courage any other way. I knew Perry would never hurt me. Even if he didn’t love me the way I loved him, he cared for me.

And I wanted to keep us all together, our paths heading in the same direction. My world was perfect when I was with Roar, Liv, and Perry. All I ever wanted was for us to stay the way we were.

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

Hyde’s voice pulls me from my memories, thankfully. I’m doing a rotten job at moving forward.

“With Liv,” he elaborates. He turns toward me slightly. His legs seem so much longer than mine. Like they go on forever. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

I guess I was wrong about no one caring how I feel about Liv. “Thanks . . . It feels like I lost her a long time ago, though.”

“When she left for Rim?”

“Yeah.” In a way, I’ve been grieving for Liv since she left to marry Sable, the northern Blood Lord she was betrothed to. The day she walked out of the Tide compound, I knew I’d probably never see her again. The difference is that now I’m sure of it.

A lump rises in my throat. I shouldn’t say anything more. But the way Hyde is watching me, like he really wants to know, to listen to me, makes me feel safe.

“We did everything together. Me and Perry and Roar and Liv. The cave? We used to sneak out of the compound and go there, the four of us. Just to get away from the tribe and be alone.”

“I heard that,” Hyde says.

I stare at him, questions flitting through my mind. What exactly did he hear? From who?

“Reef mentioned something about it once,” he rushes to say.

It’s a poor cover-up. Reef is the last person in the world who would discuss something so trivial. Hyde just doesn’t want me to feel gossiped about, but I don’t really care. People gossip. I’m guilty of it too. But unlike Hyde, I never pass up a good teasing opportunity when I see one.

“Reef was telling stories about the adventures Liv, Perry, Roar, and I had in the cave?”

“Maybe it was Gren or Hayden.”

“Or Twig or Straggler?”

“Er . . . yeah.” Hyde grins sheepishly, knowing I’ve caught him. “One of those.”

He has a softer-looking face than Perry, I notice. His nose and jaw are more sweeping than starkly cut. Kindness rests easily in his eyes.

“It was a long time ago,” I say lightly. Only six months, actually, but I don’t want to look like I’m stuck in the past. “We used to think it was the greatest place. Well, Roar, Liv, and I did. Perry never liked it much. But Liv and I . . . we felt like it was a whole new world that we’d discovered. We used to see it as someplace magical.” I laugh a little, picturing the dark hovel we just left behind. “I can’t believe we used to think that.”

Hyde scratches the scruff on his chin. “I can.”

“You can believe it?”

He lifts his shoulders. “Sure.”

“No, you can’t.”

Hyde laughs. “I really can. Isn’t that what magic is? Something you see when you shouldn’t?”

“If that’s your definition of magic, then it’s everywhere.” I wave at the sky, which shouldn’t be the way it is either. “Even up there.”

Hyde looks up, his expression turning pensive as he considers the Aether.

“You’re kidding, right?” I say, watching him. “You can’t really think there’s magic in the Aether?” I just see destruction.

“What if it’s not what you see, but how you see it? What if the magic is in your perspective?” He gestures to the plateau that spreads in front of us. “What if real magic is about having the right outlook? The right view on life?”

I feel like he’s just become someone different before my eyes. Someone poetic. Someone intriguing. All I can do is stare at him.

After a moment, he looks away.

“Why did you do that?” I ask.

“Do what?”

“Turn away from me.”

“I was regretting what I said.”

“Why?” What he just said was beautiful. I can’t believe he regrets it. “What do you have to lose if you say what you want to say?”

Hyde is suddenly fascinated with pulling a bit of leather from the frame of his quiver.

“Hyde?” I prompt.

“I don’t know how to act around you sometimes,” he says, winding the leather around his finger.

“Sometimes?”

“Alone,” he says. “When we’re alone.”

“I intimidate you?”

He lifts his head. “Completely.” His eyes hold steady on my face. “I don’t want to ruin my chance to know you, Brooke. That’s why. I don’t want to ruin it by saying the wrong things.”

My stomach does a somersault.

Up until this second everything felt normal. We were just two sentries, passing the time with conversation. But now he is no longer just Hyde. He is Hyde, who says he wants to know me, which feels so much more profound than to get to know me. Hyde, who asks me how I’m doing without Liv and talks about magic like it’s in your eyes, not in the world.

I search for it now. I search for magic in his blue eyes.

I don’t see it, but what I do see is just as surprising.

There is hope in Hyde’s eyes, and it’s real and honest and so different from the physical hunger I’m accustomed to seeing in the gazes of men.

I lick my lips, choosing my next words with care. “You do know me, Hyde.”

I am blatantly fishing for more.

No. I’m not fishing. He is on the line, and I’m reeling him in.

“True.” Hyde blinks, his smile wobbling. “I meant know you better.”

It’s the exact answer I expected. Exactly what I wanted to hear.

“You haven’t lost your chance.” I lean closer to him. “How can you lose a chance if you haven’t even taken it?”

He holds perfectly still for a long moment. Then he inclines his head a little to the side, bringing his face closer to mine. His blue eyes drop to my mouth. We’re close enough that I can see every fine hair on his jaw. This is my chance to retreat, but I don’t.

A delicious spell has fallen over me. I want this. And I’m moving on. This is what it means to move on.

I feel Hyde’s hand cradle the back of my head, but I need no encouragement to draw closer.

Our lips meet and hold, both of us stiff with awkwardness for an instant. Then Hyde’s lips part and his tongue slides, velvet soft, against mine.

Desire seeps through my limbs like warm honey as we find our way, shifting closer.

He is patient and gentle at first, but then he becomes playful. He nibbles at my bottom lip, and I can tell he’s smiling. He’s a happy kisser. A girl could fall in love with that, I think.

Heat curls in my veins, and I reach for him, wanting more.

His shoulders feel different, not quite rounded enough with muscle, but I ignore that.

His hand is on my back, the pressure too light. I ignore that too.

I focus on the movement of his mouth over mine, which is full of affection and care. He kisses like a poet. Like he’s writing poems on my lips.

But it lacks something. A confidence. A ferocity I’m familiar with.

Ignore, Brooke.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

It’s too late. I realize I’m getting in my head too much, because I hear the leaves rustle with a breeze. Hyde senses my hesitation, and his hand stills on my cheek. I feel the softest tremble of his fingers on my skin. I don’t want it to tremble. I am past tremble.

Perry knew I liked him to take control. He knew what I wanted. By now he would have—

I suck in a breath, feeling like an arrow has sliced right through my heart.

I jerk back. Hyde’s eyes fly open. We both freeze for an endless instant. Then I jump to my feet.

My legs shake beneath me as shame and lust play tug-of-war in my body. How could I think about Perry just then? What is wrong with me?

Hyde scrubs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Brooke. Was that too much?”

I’m so confused. I don’t know what just happened. No. I do know. Kissing Hyde wasn’t too much. It wasn’t too little, either. It just wasn’t kissing Perry.

“No. It was great.” My voice comes out scratchy, like I’m going to cry.

Hyde rises to his feet. For a moment I think he’s going to leave, but he doesn’t. He steps closer. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I really like you. I know about you and Perry, and maybe this was too soon. Maybe it’s not the right time, with all that’s happening. But I don’t care. I’ll wait for you.”

“I like you too, Hyde.” It’s the truth. He is thoughtful and romantic, and I should appreciate him for who he is, instead of just seeing him as not like Perry. “It’s just that . . .” I bite my lip, not wanting to explain to him that he is amazing but I am the one who is a mess. “You shouldn’t wait for me.”

I don’t know how I’m supposed to move on, but I do know that having him wait for me isn’t going to help.

Hyde’s gaze darts past me suddenly. He lets out a curse, his posture tensing. In an instant he is all warrior again. A sentry who has just spotted danger.

Our waiting is over.

4

In the midst of a scrubby stand of birches roughly a mile away, I see what has alarmed him.

Three people. Too far for me to see their faces. Close enough that I can tell they are all men. We watch them for a few moments, taking in the practiced stealth of their movements. How their progress is careful and furtive, and runs parallel to the well-trod trail instead of on it. There is no doubt in my mind—they are attempting to stay concealed. The men in the distance aren’t weary travelers seeking asylum. They are hostile.

Hyde comes to the same conclusion. “That’s trouble.”

“Let’s run them off.”

Hyde pulls his bow and quiver over his shoulder. His eyes blaze with intensity, and his muscles are coiled and rigid, like he’s ready to spring forward. There’s not a trace of kindness or playfulness in him anymore.

He gives a tight nod, and we jog down the hill toward the trespassers.

With a hundred yards still to go, Hyde and I slow to a quiet prowl. We could shout at them to leave from here. We could engage them with our bows. Hyde is a brilliant archer, as accurate as I am. But I have a clear view of the three men now. They have stopped walking, and I can see their faces.

And I know them.

I freeze. Hyde reacts immediately, stopping with me.

“Is it Roar?” he murmurs, sensing the shock that’s swept over me.

I shake my head. Roar’s return would be a great thing. This is not.

Anger ignites inside me, and I surge forward. My strides are fast and long, fueled by an endless flow of rage.

Hyde is next to me as we break through the tree line and come into the open. The three men stand on a rise above us, and Hyde and I have no cover. I have put us in the worst position possible, but I don’t care.

“Wylan!” I slow to a jog and reach back, grabbing an arrow from my quiver and nocking it. “Don’t move!”

His head whips to me. His eyes flare with surprise; then his expression transforms into something venomous and hateful as he recognizes me.

I approach the rest of the way slowly so I can keep my aim steady, my arrow ready to fly if necessary. Hyde holds pace beside me, his bow also drawn and nocked. As I have Wylan in my sights, Hyde swings his arrow between the other two traitors, Gray and Norris.

Hyde was there the night Gray poisoned Aria. He was also there the morning Wylan took a third of the tribe and left, renouncing his loyalty to Perry and to us—the Tides. He knows as well as I do that these three were forbidden ever to come back.

I stop when we are forty paces away. Wylan stands with his hands raised in surrender, looking from me to Hyde.

The strength of my vision allows me to see him as clearly as most people see at five paces. Weeks in the borderlands have not been good to him. His brow is heavier and lower. His pointy jaw juts out farther. His grimy skin sags like a plant that has wilted in the midday sun. Clothes that are no more than rags drape on his bony, stooping form. He has always had a pinched face, like he’s just swallowed ash. In the time since he left us, he only appears to have become more bitter.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. There is a soullessness to his black eyes that chills me.

“I came to talk to Peregrine.”

“Perry would kill you.”

“Then I’m lucky to have come by you first.”

“I may kill you myself.”

Wylan’s nostrils flare, and his chin rises slightly in suppressed anger. He has never liked me. “I mean no harm, Brooke. I’ve come to ask forgiveness.” He glances at the two men at his sides. “We have.”

“You’re seeking forgiveness?” It seems impossible. It’s a word I’d never expect to hear from his mouth. But he nods.

“Yes. I want to come home.”

There is something in the way he lingers over the word home. Does he know we’ve abandoned the compound?

“Please, Brooke. We’re tired. We want to be back with our tribe. Take us home with you.”

“No chance,” Hyde growls. He stands motionless at my side, his legs firmly set, his form perfect. The picture of an archer at his most lethal position.

“Tell Peregrine, then,” Wylan says. “I beg you, Brooke. Take the message for me. Tell him I want to speak to him. He’ll forgive me. At least give me a chance.”

Hyde says, “I’ve heard enough.”

I have too.

I drop my aim and let my arrow fly. It sinks deep into the earth between Wylan’s feet.

He lets out a yelp and lurches back, but Hyde’s arrow flies an instant later, also landing inches from Wylan’s foot.

“Idiots!” Wylan yells, retreating frantically. “You’re insane!”

“Get out of here,” I tell him. “Come back to this land again and it’ll be your death.”

After we run them off, Hyde and I hold our post until the morning watch relieves us. We talk about Wylan. I am surprised by the fisherman’s return—Wylan has always been so proud, so stubborn—but Hyde is not.

“You don’t know the borderlands,” he says to me. He is right. I don’t know them, nor do I want to. “Pride is the first thing you lose out there,” he continues. “And the most painless. The trick is to hold on to your honor. There are no laws. No rules beyond the ones you choose to live by.” He gives me a faint smile. “If you break those, you make an enemy of yourself, and that’ll destroy you faster than anything else.”

I stare at him, marveling at how everything he says intrigues me. Questions pop into my head, but I hardly know where to start. I just want him to keep talking.

Hyde raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“We were good together,” I blurt, just to say something, and I could kick myself. What I meant is how we handled Wylan. How it felt like we were perfectly in tune through the entire encounter. I don’t want him to think I meant anything more.

I don’t want to hurt Hyde. The hope I saw in his eyes earlier is a precious thing; I’m afraid I’ll destroy that part of him. And if I do that, I could lose this—my connection with this warrior who is fierce and perfect at my side. This poet, whose words twinkle like stars before my eyes.

A smile spreads over Hyde’s lips. It’s affectionate and understanding and gentle. “Incredible,” he says. “It was an encounter to remember.”

I still don’t know if we’re talking about our kiss or our stand against Wylan, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t fear anymore. I know, whatever happens between us, Hyde and I will be fine.

“It was,” I agree. “It sure was.”

When the morning patrollers arrive, we fill them in and then return to the cave, where we assemble in the Battle Room, a small cavern Perry uses to discuss important matters.

There is a table here. A long wooden trestle brought from the compound, and benches and chairs. I drop into one of them. I never expected that sitting in a chair would feel like such a luxury.

Hyde sits on my left. Across the table are Reef, Marron, and Perry. They remain silent and serious as Hyde and I take turns describing what happened.

“Bold of them to show up,” Reef mutters gruffly. “They know they aren’t welcome here.”

Bold is putting it mildly. I still can’t get over Wylan’s gall.

I look at Perry, anticipating his reaction. I hate Wylan for betraying my tribe, but it’s personal for Perry. Wylan insulted him in front of the Tides. And then there’s Gray, who tried to poison Aria. But Perry seems calm. Thoughtful. Nowhere near as furious as I expected.

“He didn’t come to make amends,” he says.

I say, “He said he wanted forgiveness.”

Perry shakes his head. “That’s an excuse. A story he came up with to explain why he was here. Wylan knows I’d never forgive him. He wouldn’t have risked coming back unless he needed something.”

I press my lips together. I didn’t consider that Wylan might have trespassed onto our land with another motive in mind.

“Maybe he was trying to get to the compound,” Reef says. “There are still supplies there, and it’s unguarded. We left plenty behind that could be valuable. They could fetch a man some bartering power in the borderlands.”

It’s true. We couldn’t bring all our belongings with us into the cave. Tools. Furniture. Clothing. We had to leave most of our things behind.

Marron shakes his head. “A plausible theory, but unlikely. There were only three men on foot. Carrying away goods would be impractical and difficult. I don’t know that the effort would justify the reward.” He looks at Perry. “You don’t believe he’s motivated by revenge?”

Another long pause as Perry thinks it over. I imagine Perry has a whole host of memories with Wylan. He’s a Seer, like me, so his recollections would be strongly visual. But he’s a Scire as well. Perry would have scent memories—all the tempers he’s scented from Wylan. They would form a pattern, a reliable way to predict behavior. And, by working backward, the root of behavior: motivation.

Finally, he responds. “Wylan loves himself more than he hates me.”

Marron nods, like this statement makes all manner of sense. “Self-preservation, then. He’s driven by visceral, life-sustaining needs.”

“Shelter,” Reef says.

“The cave and the food stores we have here,” Marron says, nodding. “That’s what he’s after.”

I remember the way Wylan’s voice pulled at the word home. He’d made it sound syrupy, and now I recognize that tone as falseness. Home implies an emotional attachment, but that’s not what he wanted. What Wylan wanted was a roof over his head.

“But they were only three,” Hyde says.

“You told me that when they dispersed, they took a third of the tribe,” Marron says to Perry.

“A quarter. Almost a hundred people.”

I can’t help but remember Aria’s Marking ceremony, when Gray slipped hemlock into Aria’s tattoo ink. She almost died. Perry beat Gray to a pulp in front of everyone when he learned what Gray had done.

That attempt to poison Aria fractured my tribe. Some people sided with Perry and his right to defend Aria. Others, led by Wylan, saw it as a betrayal. They viewed Aria as a Mole, an interloper who shouldn’t have been there to begin with.

I was one of them. I didn’t want her there. But I didn’t want to see her killed, either. I stayed with the Tides that day, but dozens of people left. Their faith in Perry as a Blood Lord was shattered. They broke oath and followed Wylan out of the Tide compound. That morning I lost friends I had never spent a single day without. It was like losing Liv, but worse. Liv didn’t choose to go.

“You think the others are still with them?” I ask. “Hiding in the borderlands somewhere?”

Marron turns a ring around his finger as he replies. “Wylan was their leader when they left. He still could be. His entry into the territory could have been a scouting pass. The tip of the spear, probing for weakness.”

“You think he’s coming back with a larger attack,” Perry says.

It is more a statement than a question—he has already accepted it—but Marron replies anyway.

“Yes. We have to be prepared for it.”

5

When I finally make it to my tent, I’m crushed to find it empty.

Clara isn’t here.

I want to go search for her, but I’m too exhausted. Normally, Hyde and I would have traded shifts, two hours on watch, two hours asleep, but we’d felt it best to double up after what had happened with Wylan, both of us alert for danger. We were thrumming with adrenaline too, but now that rush has faded and my eyes won’t stay open.

I collapse onto my bed pad and barely pull my boots off before I plunge into sleep.

At some point I feel the covers shift, and I emerge from the rainbow colors of a dream to see Clara. She burrows under my blanket and nestles beside me. It’s the middle of the day, and she shouldn’t be here, but I love that she is. I love that my sister has come to find me. I pull her close and drift back to sleep, breathing in her strawberry scent.

When I finally wake, Clara is still sleeping. In my dreams I saw her standing in the rain, shaking and crying. Great big hiccups came out of her between sobs as she said, Don’t leave me, over and over.

But then I touch my shirt, feeling the dampness at my breastbone, and I know it wasn’t a dream. Not all of it, anyway.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help her. She’s not like Talon, who seems to have returned without missing a step. Talon lost his parents and his aunt, and yet whenever I see him he is laughing and running off somewhere with Willow and Flea, no sign at all of being scarred.

Not my sister.

Don’t leave me, she cried in my arms.

Clara isn’t lost, like I thought before. She’s worried we’ll turn our backs on her again. Sell her again. She is afraid of being betrayed. She is afraid that if she lets herself love, she’ll only be abandoned again.

And I understand that. I won’t pretend what I’ve gone through is the same, with Perry, but it’s not different, either.

I am afraid too.

Fear is what pulled me away from Hyde.

An unexpected sadness washes over me as I remember what he said. That he wanted to know me. He was opening his heart, but I couldn’t because mine is closed. Mine is bruised and wailing and grasping to stay afloat. Mine is hiding in a corner, terrified it will be discarded again.

And I don’t want it to be.

So much, I don’t want it to be.

A lump rises in my throat as the urge to talk to someone slams into me. I need to tell someone how lonely I feel. How Perry and Liv and Roar left a hole in my life that I don’t know how to fill. I need someone to tell me that everything will be all right.

Molly.

Molly is strong, like my mother isn’t. I don’t have to worry that my problems will burden her with worry. No one else is as wise and understanding.

I pull on my boots, tuck the blankets in around Clara, and jog to the Dweller cave, because that’s where I’ll surely find Molly.

Right away I see that the situation in here has deteriorated. The Dwellers are not shivering and drifting in and out of consciousness anymore. They are silent and still and barely breathing, and there is nothing even partly amusing about it.

It’s frightening.

They are on the verge of dying, and it’s so chilling that I almost forget why I came here until Molly calls my name. I see her in the dimness, crouching over one of the Dwellers. But any thought I had about having a long talk with her vanishes when she snaps, “Hurry, Brooke! Now!”

I rush over and see that she’s pinning Aria down.

Aria is convulsing. Her legs thrash against the blankets and her eyes are wide, but I can’t see her pupils. They’re rolling back.

“Get Perry,” Molly says. “Bring Perry and Marron now!”

For a second, I can’t move. I can only stare. The bandage has been removed from Aria’s arm. The bullet wound on her bicep almost makes me retch. It is swollen and raw. The smell that comes from it is curdled and festering and wrong. The infection is worse. Even I can see that it’s spreading into her bloodstream.

“Brooke, go get Peregrine!” Molly snaps.

I turn to go, but it’s as though Perry somehow sensed he was needed, because there he is, running toward us. Gren appears behind him, and that explains why Perry is already here.

Gren is an Aud. They were likely in the Battle Room nearby and Gren heard Molly. Heard her panicked voice shouting Perry’s name.

I step back before I am run over by them. There is a mad scramble as Molly issues orders. Then Aria is in Perry’s arms and it’s like the night she was poisoned. The night of her Marking ceremony.

He carries her out, but this time we all follow.

He takes her into the Battle Room and sets her on the trestle table. Marron enters, making clipped demands for clean towels, boiled water, and surgical supplies from the Dweller Hover. I have never heard such a commanding tone from him.

I’m there. I know I’m there because I see and hear everything. But I am numb as the supplies arrive. Numb as Aria is injected with needles that finally relax her rigid, shaking muscles. Numb as her arm is sliced open by Molly while Marron aids her.

The smell and the blood make me queasy, so I stare at Perry’s face as he hovers over Aria. He speaks to her though she’s unconscious. He begs her to hold on and he tells her in a dozen different ways that he loves her.

The things he says . . . they are beautiful.

I don’t want to see or hear any more.

I leave the Battle Room, with its small army of people fighting to keep Aria alive, and wind my way through the dark corridors of the cave.

I wander aimlessly for a while, not feeling angry or hurt or much of anything.

All I can hold in my mind is hope. I want Aria to heal. I don’t want Perry to have his heart broken too. As much as it hurt to be left by him, he’s my Blood Lord. And he’s my friend.

He was my nemesis in archery competitions when we were young. He was my best friend’s little brother. Roar’s constant companion in tormenting Liv and me. A pest for many years, in truth. Awkward and gangly and too quiet, until the day he became gorgeous and graceful and quietly confident.

He is not just a friend, I realize. He is family. That means we have an unbreakable bond. I want him to be well and happy. Even if it’s not with me.

His face appears in my mind as he whispered to Aria so passionately and desperately. The bond between them is visceral, like Marron said in the meeting this morning. Life-sustaining.

It’s what I want.

Perry never felt that way about me. He cared for me. I know he did. Does. But he never felt that for me, like if one of you dies, you both die.

Then it hits me, and I don’t know how I didn’t realize it before.

I never felt that way about him, either.

6

It’s a revelation.

It’s a revelation, and I need time to consider it.

It’s a precious jewel; I need to hold it up to the light. Turn it, so I can see its shine from every angle.

I cross the main cavern in a daze, barely aware of the eyes that follow me as I pass the platform and walk outside to the sandy cove. I don’t stop until the waves are pushing against my shins. Then I stare at the ocean and let it come. All of it.

The truth.

There was no beginning to Roar and Liv. No starting point. The day Roar came limping into the compound with his grandmother, he was already in love with Liv. She was in love with him, too. Everyone in the tribe saw it. We all knew the seed was there; it just needed to emerge. When it did, Liv had something incredible in her life.

Something I wanted too.

But there was more to it than just that. There were other reasons I wanted Perry. My attraction to him was growing by the day, and he had always been honest and loyal and good. I wanted him for who he was, and for what he’d help create. A perfect foursome of friends, made up of two couples. Made up of two sets of best friends. Every combination felt good.

More than anything, though, I wanted us to be like Roar and Liv. As unabashedly in love. But we weren’t.

Unlike Liv and Roar, Perry and I had a beginning. It was a spring night, in the clearing. The tribe was gathered after supper, enjoying a crisp evening outside after a long winter. Roar was singing while Pierce played guitar. I sat next to Perry on the dirt, close enough that our legs bumped. He moved to scoot away, but I grabbed his forearm and kept him there. Then I kissed him, right there in front of everyone.

At home, my mother nearly pinched my arm off for that. But I knew Perry too well. Know him, since he hasn’t changed. He doesn’t do anything unless he believes in it, heart and soul. I knew I’d need to give him a big push to get us started. And it worked.

After that kiss, everyone assumed we were together. I let them think we were. I watched Perry’s amusement at the notion gradually shift to acceptance. The next time I kissed him, he kissed me back, and that was all.

In a way, Perry was the last to know about us.

But while I initiated things between us, it didn’t stay that way. Perry was there for me. Laughing with me. Wanting me. I know, for a time anyway, that he was as swept away by me as I was by him. But that started to change as soon as Liv and Roar left for Rim. With our foursome split in half, Perry began to drift away from me.

The hints were subtle at first. He’d draw away from a kiss too soon, or fall silent when I spoke to him about our future. Then the signs grew into bigger things. Misunderstandings. Arguments that never felt like they were resolved. I saw the direction we were heading. I just didn’t want to believe it.

But I believe it now. Perry and I had a beginning. We were bound to have an end. And I understand that we were great together sometimes, but what we had was flawed and maybe a little forced. Maybe it was something that I really wanted, but that wasn’t actually there.

Maybe the magic wasn’t in us. It was in my eyes.

7

Why do you get to go outside, but I can’t?” Clara asks me that evening.

“I have to,” I answer.

Clara blinks her wide blue eyes at me. “But I haven’t been outside in months and months and months.”

“You aren’t missing anything.”

“Yes, I am! I want to run on the sand! And it’s so dark in here.”

“It’s dangerous out there, Clara.”

Wylan and his band aren’t the only things I want to protect her from tonight. Outside, the Aether is raging, dropping funnels only a few miles from the cave. When the wind blows in from the right direction, it carries the smell of smoke from forest fires. It’s a measure of Perry and Reef’s concern that they’re sending us out there tonight. They wouldn’t put the patrol at risk unless they had legitimate fears about Wylan returning.

Clara crosses her arms and makes a sulky face, like she is five instead of eight. She thinks it’ll melt me, seeing her act so young. Like the sweet, innocent little sister I lost. But my reaction is the opposite. At some point in the past year she learned to manipulate people, and that makes me want to hit something.

“Then why are you going?” she asks.

I’m not going to tell her about Wylan, so I drop a kiss on her head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Brookie, please take me with you,” she says, her eyes filling with tears.

Those aren’t an act. They’re real, and my throat tightens up. “Clara, I have to do this. You know I wouldn’t leave you otherwise.”

Around the platform, people are watching us. The tribe has been shaken all day, worried that the Dwellers are faltering. The only thing we want less than sick Dwellers on our hands is dead Dwellers on our hands. Aria’s condition has rattled them as well. She pulled through her surgery, but it was close. She almost lost her arm. And judging by the restless glances thrown my way, the tribe has heard about Wylan and his band too.

It hasn’t been an easy day for anyone.

I can tell my tribe wants me outside, where my bow and my eyes can protect them. It’s where I need to be for Clara’s sake too. So I tell her that.

“I’m going out there for you, Clara. To keep you safe. I have to go now.” I hug her. Then, to take my mind off leaving her, I count my steps as I walk outside.

One, two, three . . . five . . . eleven . . . twenty.

Hayden falls in step with me when I reach forty-two. By ninety-seven we have stepped completely out of the cave. I pause on the small strip of sand and finally allow myself to look back.

Bad idea. The pull to return to my sister is immense. Strong, like I’m falling toward her. She needs me in there and she needs me out here, and how am I supposed to know what’s right? What’s best?

“Ready?” Hayden asks. He is watching me closely.

“I’m with you tonight?” My voice is sharp, like the crack of a whip.

I wonder if Hyde requested not to be with me. I wonder why I feel jilted and depressed when I was the one who balked at what he offered. Which was tenderness and poetry and smiling kisses.

Good job, Brooke. Because those things are all so horrible.

Can this day get any worse?

A laugh bursts out of Hayden. “I’m glad you’re so happy about it.” He gives me his back before I can respond, and breaks into a jog, threading his way up the steep switchback path to the bluff.

“Thrilled,” I mutter, catching up to him.

My walk with Hyde last night on this same trail felt contemplative, but Hayden attacks it. He is muscular and long-limbed like Hyde, but more energetic. Louder and more aggressive. The pace he sets forces me to focus on my footing and my breathing in order to keep up with him.

In minutes, sweat rolls down my spine, but I relish it. Since we’ve been in the cave, we haven’t run like this. Everyone is always shuffling around, looking miserable.

You can’t be miserable when you’re running. It’s such a simple and pure way to feel alive. As we put miles behind us, my mood begins to lift.

Gren and Reef aren’t far to the north, and Hyde and Straggler are just south of us. We have reinforced our patrol numbers in all posts, but most substantially here on the eastern approach—the shortest distance to the cave. If Wylan is coming, this would be the most direct path, the one that would give us the least amount of time to react. This is where we are most vulnerable, so Perry appointed the Six to guard it tonight—the Six and me.

I am with these warriors because I am one of the best, but that distinction brings me nothing but pride now. It’s an honor to be regarded as their equal.

After an hour of running, we stop to catch our breath and drink water. My eyes drift to the range of hills to the north, and dread seeps through me. The Aether looked fierce last night, but today its threats are not empty. The sky there flashes with funnels. Along the ridge below, a glowing orange line has appeared.

Fire.

Land is burning. Tide land. Mine.

I’ve been so focused on the trail ahead of me that I didn’t see it.

“Do you think Reef and Gren are in that?” I ask. Then I gulp water, trying to slake my thirst.

Hayden’s Seer eyes take in the distant hills, and then settle on me. He shakes his head. “They were swinging south to avoid it.”

I focus my attention on the trees around me. The flutter of their leaves and the sway of their branches. “The wind is blowing our way, Hayden. You do know what that means?”

He takes another deep drink from his water skin and nods. “Why do you think I’ve been in such a hurry?”

“You knew the fires were going to blow our way?”

“I had a feeling.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I wasn’t sure.” He smiles. “But now I am.”

I shake my head at him. “Great.” The dry creek bed we followed from the cave is pooling with smoke. Our path is disappearing behind us. “We can’t go back.”

“No. But we better keep moving.”

We have no other choice. The fires to the north—the source of the smoke that’s blowing our way—show no sign of abating.

We run again. The wind continues to build, blowing hot, thick smoke that swirls past us. Black pieces of ash and glowing embers flutter by, some as large as leaves.

My lungs ache when Hayden finally stops. I have to press my thumbs into my eyes for a few seconds to relieve the stinging.

Still trying to catch my breath, I scan the distance for our position. I want to see the wooded slope where Hyde and I posted up last night, but I find that I can’t see more than three hundred yards away. I know this territory as well as I know Clara’s face, but with smoke billowing past, nothing is recognizable.

I bite back a curse. Sight is my gift. When I can’t see, I’m not happy.

“Well, I’m terrified,” Hayden says. “How about you?”

I look at him. “Where are we?”

“Definitely lost.” He kneels, pulling his quiver over his shoulder. Sweat drips off his forehead. He swipes at it absently and withdraws a compass from a small pocket.

Relief washes over me. “I could hug you right now.” That small instrument may have just saved our lives. It’s easy to lose direction when you can’t navigate by sight. As disoriented as we are, we could get turned around and head directly toward the fire line.

“A nice thought, but unnecessary.” Hayden checks the compass. “We haven’t gone off course by much. We’re still heading east.” He points straight ahead and stands. “Let’s keep going. We have to get clear of this smoke.”

As we run again, he doesn’t state the obvious. We aren’t protecting the tribe anymore. We are no longer looking for signs of Wylan and his group. Our mission has shifted. We are running to save our own lives.

The night becomes snatches of foreign-looking woods. The dirt beneath my feet and Hayden running next to me. I have the feeling we’re getting swept out to sea. Away from safety and everyone we know.

I don’t know how long we’ve been running when my energy begins to flag. Unable to keep up anymore, I slow down. Hayden notices immediately. He hooks his arm into mine and yanks me forward, giving me the boost I need to climb a small hill.

We collapse at the top, sprawling on the dirt.

I lie there for a while, facedown, trying to catch my breath. Then I roll on my back and stare up at the Aether.

My muscles twitch, and I’m so light-headed it feels like the world is spinning. A gust drifts over me, cooling me down. The air is clear here. Not a trace of smoke. I close my burning eyes and drink it into my lungs. My sweat-drenched clothes are heavy on my skin.

I sense Hayden climbing to his feet. “You all right?”

“I’m great. Just perfect.”

He doesn’t move away. When I peer at him through my lashes, I find him looking down at me, his full lips parted just slightly. “Still want to know where we are?” he asks.

I climb to my feet, my legs quavering a little.

I know where we are. The Tides’ territory is shaped like an hourglass, narrower in the middle, broader at its poles. Three hours of running due east would cut right through this narrow section and put us at the edge of the territory—or just beyond.

Though I’m positive about where we’ve ended up, I need to hear Hayden say it. I don’t know if I’ll really believe it otherwise.

My voice is barely above a breath as I say, “Tell me.”

8

The borderlands,” Hayden says.

Where chaos reigns. My father’s voice fills my mind. It’s what he always says when the borderlands are mentioned. Like it all goes together. One long name for a place that belongs to no one.

The borderlands, where chaos reigns.

Also, where I am currently standing.

The knowledge spreads through me like ice, chilling my overheated muscles.

As a little girl my nightmares were about this very place. I dreamed that monsters and wolves and ghouls lived here. Bloodthirsty creatures that tore into flesh for no reason. Now I am older and I know better.

Monsters and ghouls don’t commit atrocities out here. People do.

“Does it feel like coming home?” I hear myself say. I don’t know what I want from Hayden’s response. Maybe some assurance that he’s as comfortable here as anywhere.

Hayden lifts an eyebrow. “If home is where a person finds sanctuary and peace, then this place has never been that to me.”

His tone is surprisingly somber. What was it like for him to look after two younger brothers out here? Did he worry about Hyde and Straggler constantly, like I worry about Clara?

He smiles at me suddenly. It’s a cover-up grin, like Clara’s sunbeam smile. Like he believes he said something he shouldn’t have.

“Drink,” he says, handing me a water skin.

“Thanks.” I take it. I finished mine an hour ago. The leather skin is warm and damp from his grip.

“Don’t worry about being out here. It’s not as bad as you think.”

I take a long drink and hand the skin back to him. “I can stomach anything except lies.”

“Fair enough. It is as bad. But we’ll be safe on this hill until the wind carries the smoke away.”

I consider our position and see that he’s right. Our hill is small, but we have a few oak trees here that will give us some cover, and an unobstructed view on every side. No one will sneak up on us without earning an arrow between the eyes.

My gaze strays west. Clara is out there, inside the cave on the edge of the coast. I wish I could see her. All I see are plumes of smoke interspersed with glowing spots, where the flames leap highest. The Aether rolls in waves across the sky, looking so alive, so vibrant, compared to the earth with its scorching skin.

I don’t know whether it’s the sight of this war between earth and sky or the cooling of my sodden clothes that chills me, but I begin to shiver.

“You want me to get a fire going?”

That makes me laugh. “Would you? That’d be great.” I can’t think of anything I’d like less than a fire. The smoke has gotten in my hair. It’s all I can taste. All I can feel, in the tightness of my lungs. I feel like I’ve bathed in smoke.

Hayden gazes across the distance. “The wind is dying down. The fires will burn out soon. We’ll be able to get back by morning at the latest.”

That sounds overly optimistic, but I don’t say anything.

Hayden finds a smooth rock to perch on. “Come on. There’s room for you.”

“I’m fine,” I say reflexively.

After pacing around for five minutes, I realize he’s chosen the only spot on this craggy hill that’s halfway comfortable, but I’ve already made up my mind.

I plop down on the dirt a few paces away from him. A sharp rock pokes into my backside. I am cold, tired, and wet—and I smell like a chimney—but that rock is what pushes a string of curses out of me.

“Everything all right?” Hayden asks.

I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.

“Wonderful. How’s your throne?”

“Couldn’t be better.” A pause. “You’d be more comfortable over here, Brooke. And warmer.”

“Warmer? You want me to warm up with you? Do you really think I’m that gullible?”

“I was trying to be practical, but suit yourself. I have to admit, though, I’m flattered you don’t trust yourself around me.”

I snort and pick up a pebble to throw at him. My arm stops mid-throw.

Because of the natural curve in the rock he’s chosen, Hayden is leaning back, half-reclined. It’s a casual, relaxed pose. Comfortable. And I suddenly don’t know why I’m here in the dirt, when I could be there.

I hop to my feet and stalk over to him. “I will punch you if you touch me,” I say, sitting beside him.

“You have nothing to worry about. I’m no poacher.”

My heart stops for two full seconds. Hayden is watching my reaction, and I can tell he’s been waiting to say this for hours. Maybe since we left the cave.

“What did you just say?”

“I would never overstep. Especially since he’s my brother.”

“Hyde told you?”

Hayden shakes his head, his grin huge. “Hyde would never talk. I had a feeling, based on the smile that hasn’t left his face since you two came back this morning.”

“You and your stupid feelings! It was just a kiss!” It streaks me that I’m even explaining myself. I smack him on the shoulder. “I can kiss whoever I want.”

Hayden’s hands come up in defense as he laughs. “Of course you can, but that’s beside the point. All I meant to say is that I’m not interested”—he gestures at the space between us—“so we’ll be fine here.”

In an elaborate display of nonchalance, he crosses his arms behind his head and leans back like he’s basking in the sun. The smug smile on his mouth makes my blood boil, but I’m determined to play this the right way.

I lean back too, pretending I’m as comfortable as can be in my clammy, smoky clothes. As the minutes drag by, I can tell Hayden is disappointed I didn’t react to his comment.

“I told you not to lie to me,” I say, after five full minutes have passed.

He peers at me. “When did I lie?”

“Just now. You said you’re not interested, but that’s not true. I’ve seen you watch me.”

“Can’t I look at you?”

“Of course you can. It’s just the way you look at me that’s telling.”

“And how is that?”

“You do this thing with your mouth.”

“I do a thing?”

“Yes. You pout.”

Hayden throws his head back and laughs. “I pout at you?”

“Yes. You do.”

It’s actually not a pout, but that’s the only word I can come up with. Occasionally, like just a short while ago, his lips relax in a very appealing, sultry way that is close to a pout, but not a pout.

“Well,” he says. “Don’t let my pout scare you. I promise you’re safe at my side. You and I would never work.”

“You just said that so I’d ask why.”

“You just said that because you’re avoiding asking why.”

“Fine. Why, Hayden? Why are you so sure we’d never work?”

“Aside from the reason I mentioned earlier?”

“Yes. Aside from that.”

“There’s no spark between us.”

I glare at him. Does this boy ever say anything direct? Does he never say what he actually means?

Turning my focus out over the hills, I consider the situation. He has done this on purpose, of course. To make me wonder if there might be a spark between us. The problem is that even though I see his trickery, I actually am wondering.

My heart is thumping, and I’m suddenly aware of just how close he is.

I have always found him attractive. Handsome in a grown, mature way. I’m not the only one who thinks so. I’ve heard women in the tribe talk about his smile on more than one occasion.

My move on plan didn’t work with Hyde. How could it, when I saw hope in his eyes? Hope that I didn’t feel myself? I won’t use someone else just to make myself feel better. I like Hyde too much. But Hayden?

I look at him, a little ripple of excitement moving through me as I find him watching me. In his eyes I don’t see hope. All I see is humor—and heat. And those soft-looking lips . . . I really would like to kiss him.

“There’s only one way to find out,” I say, before I can stop myself. “And you did offer to warm me up.”

Hayden’s eyes narrow slightly. “Brooke . . . you’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

His hand comes up, and he runs his fingers along my cheek. I jump a little, but he doesn’t. His fingers are steady on my skin. Steady as they trace my neck and then run across my collarbone. His eyes are sensual and dark as they follow the path of his touch. His mouth relaxes, and there it is. That sultry pout.

I expected a kiss. That’s not what’s happening, and it’s thrilling.

He looks into my eyes, his gaze so dark and hungry that it takes everything in me not to shiver. Then he bends toward me, and his lips close over mine, the pressure soft but sure. I kiss him back, and Hayden moves in, his tongue sweeping against mine, and a single thought explodes in my mind: Hayden knows what he’s doing.

He sets an immediate tone, kissing me with confidence, and it feels achingly good, achingly familiar. I twist my hands into his hair and kiss him deeply, and hear him groan.

“Brooke,” he whispers, “easy.” But everything he’s doing contradicts that. His hand grips my thigh, so tight that I feel the pressure of every finger.

I move closer to him. He moves at the same time, and with all the moving that’s happening we end up lying on our sides, face-to-face. Together we are tumbling down a hillside of desire, and it feels safe. So safe not to care. This is only about lips and hands and skin. Swirling, smoky desires that are swallowing me up.

Hayden’s hand rolls up my ribs and brushes over my breast, sending a wave of desire through me. But after a few moments he surprises me by drawing away. “Brooke, there’s definitely a spark here. We might actually catch fire if we don’t—”

“Shhh . . . This is more fun when you don’t talk.”

His laugh is a short, clipped sound. “Fun?”

“Yes. Fun.”

I pull him to me again. He rolls on top of me, and then I roll on top of him, and it’s like a little battle in the midst of our kisses, our legs tangling up.

My hand finds his shirt, slipping over the rolling muscles in his stomach. He makes a hissing sound and darts away. “All right,” he says. “That was good.”

I don’t know what just happened. I don’t know why he pulled away. “It was better than good, Hayden.”

He mutters a curse and sits forward over his knees. “Brooke, just . . . give me a minute here.”

There’s only one reason he could have stopped. I can’t let that get in the way. “Hayden, what happened with Hyde was . . .” I don’t know how to finish my thought.

What happened between Hyde and me was a beautiful, fragile thing. But it feels like talking about it with Hayden would be disrespectful.

“It’s not that.” He rubs his hands over his head and lets out a breath. “Though it should be.”

“Then what? Is it Perry? Because I’m not with him anymore.”

Hayden lifts his head. “No, Brooke. It’s you.”

This throws me. My cheeks warm. “What about me?” I ask, preparing to defend myself.

“You’re running, Brooke. It’s like we’re back in those woods. You’re sprinting through this, and I don’t think . . .” He sighs. “I just have this feeling you don’t really want to do this.”

“Are you really going to tell me what I want?”

“I’m only telling you what I think. But I would like to know: What do you want?”

What do I want? I have to think about it for a moment.

I want to feel wanted and cherished and safe.

I want to find someone who won’t trade me for another.

I want to find love that is visceral and life-sustaining.

All those answers seem a little inappropriate. So I say, “I want you to kiss me again. You’re good at it.”

Hayden gives me a look I’ve never seen before. Like he’s in pain and about to laugh at the same time. “If I do, you’ll hate me tomorrow.”

“You have it backward. I’ll hate you tomorrow if you don’t.”

“But I’ll hate myself, and that’s who I have to live with for the rest of my life.”

I don’t know why that makes me laugh, but it does.

Hayden smiles. It’s disarming, his full lips pulling into a wide grin. “I don’t want to start this the wrong way, Brooke.”

I’m not sure what the right way would be. He’s older, and surely he’s been with other women. Are there paths to love, to relationships, that are better than others? I don’t know. I only know the one I’ve taken.

“Start what? You said you weren’t interested.”

Hayden laughs. “I’m interested, Brooke. The question is, are you?”

“I’m interested in not hurting anymore.” And there it goes. My stupid, runaway mouth. “Never mind,” I say, rubbing my arms. The cool night air is seeping back into me, chilling me again.

Hayden falls quiet for what feels like a week. “That’s a good interest,” he says. “The most important one.” A look of concern emerges on his face, and panic spears through me. I’ve exposed too much of myself, my pain.

“Would you stop looking at me like that?”

“Am I pouting again?”

“No. You’re looking at me like I’m weak.” The last thing I want is for Hayden or any of the Six to see me that way.

“You, weak?” He grins, shaking his head. “Never. Now come here before you freeze.” He lifts his arm, inviting me closer.

“Are you joking?”

The words are barely out of my mouth before he drops his arm around me and pulls me close. Then he stretches his legs out, and shifts his back a little, searching for a comfortable position. Everything between us has changed. He feels totally different than he felt five minutes ago. Brotherly.

“So,” he says conversationally, “I’m a good kisser. Was I better than Hyde?”

Maybe not brotherly, then.

“Oh, now that’s a surprise. You made it into a competition.” How did I not see that coming?

“You’re avoiding the question again.”

“You were different.”

“Which is a careful way of saying better.”

“Actually, different is a way of saying dissimilar. Unalike. There’s no value judgment. It’s a neutral word.”

“Was Hyde that bad, or is it just that I’m on a completely higher level?”

I jab my elbow into his ribs. He laughs and squeezes my shoulder. “I’m not going to forget what just happened, Brooke. Probably ever. When you’re ready, I’ll be here. And if you’re never ready, that’s fine too. I’ll just suffer in silence until I’m old and gray with age.”

There’s no downplaying the glimmer of desire in his eyes.

I don’t feel the urge to draw out his thoughts like I did with Hyde. What I feel is the pull to kiss him again.

So different, I think. One brother seduced me with poetry and gentleness. The other with heat and desire.

I settle in beside him. What did I see in Perry? I search my memories, trying to decide if he was more one way or the other. More alluring in mind, like Hyde, or in body, like Hayden. After a few moments I realize Perry was both. Gentle and thoughtful at times. Irresistibly sexy at others. But this realization doesn’t hurt like I expect. I don’t feel coals in my stomach, or the bruising in my heart.

And I don’t want to dwell on what Perry was to me, either.

With Hayden’s body next to mine, I feel warmer. My muscles are tired, and I allow myself to slouch against him. To let go of my weight and just be here.

Hayden was right. This sort of heat between us is better for me right now.

Hayden’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “What are you thinking?”

I look at him and say the first thing that comes to mind. “You have perfect lips.”

I expect him to laugh or make some kind of comeback. But he just kisses my forehead and tucks me back into the crook of his arm. We sit and watch the burning hills, just doing that. Nothing more.

And I am content.

9

It’s deep into the night when I hear a shout. It pierces the night quiet, instantly sending my pulse to a gallop.

Hayden has nodded off beside me, but he wakes with a small jolt. I grip his forearm to keep him from making any sudden movement that might give away our position.

“What was that?” he whispers. His eyes pan across the rolling land below us, and he blinks a few times to shake off sleep.

“A man’s voice. Close.” I don’t hear it anymore. Now I only hear the creak of branches as they sway with a breeze.

We come to our feet slowly, forcing steadiness out of our tired, stiff limbs. There could be Auds nearby, so we are careful to move in silence as we find our bows.

The sky has calmed considerably since the show of funnels and the smoke hours ago. The Aether flows are smoother, almost veil thin. They are as calm as I’ve seen them in days. We have gone from a tempest to a gentle, low tide. Safer for us, but without a thick concentration of Aether above us, we’ve lost much of our illumination. The night has grown dim. A murky rolling blue, like we’ve swum to the bottom of the sea.

My range of vision has decreased to only two hundred yards. Wearing horse blinders could not feel worse.

“We should move off this hill,” I say. “We won’t know what’s going on unless we get closer.” My idea is borderline idiotic. We’re in a secure position, and leaving it for unknown danger would be insane. But I have never been one to wait around for things to happen. I’m confident that Hayden will steer us right, though.

“Good idea,” he says. “Let’s go.”

No voice of reason, then. My fingers tighten around my bow.

As we descend the hill, my heart thuds so powerfully in my chest that I wonder if Hayden can hear it.

We walk half a mile before we see them. A group of people emerges from the mottled darkness.

I count forty.

They stand in a wooded fold between two hills. I search for Wylan but only see strangers. I recognize the dry creek bed, though. The trees grow thick there, because the water still runs beneath the ground. Somewhere, miles to the west, is the spot where Hyde and I were posted last night. But tonight I am farther out, on the edge of Tide land.

Then I hear him.

“Listen up!” Wylan snaps. He jumps onto a boulder, appearing above the crowd. “We’ll head north and approach along that ridge. Expect to be challenged by a pair of sentries.” He points into the darkness. “Two archers, within the first mile. Good fighters. But there are more of us, and we can’t expect to take this land and the food we need, land and food that are rightfully ours and that we deserve, without having to show some courage, can we?”

There are a few grunts of agreement.

Hayden’s eyes lock with mine, and I know we’re thinking the same thing.

Reef and Gren are guarding the area these people plan to move through. They’re in danger.

“Once we get past them,” Wylan continues, “we won’t run into any trouble until we reach the cave.”

The cave.

Clara.

I yank an arrow from my quiver, nock it, and fire.

It’s a wild action. Aggressive and possibly suicidal. But if I don’t do something, Gren and Reef could die. My tribe could be harmed, and my sister.

My arrow spears a man through the thigh.

I keep going, loosing another. Hayden joins me, and in moments screams of terror lift from Wylan’s group. They are visibly shocked and confused. We are firing on them from the rear—the borderlands, where they came from—and surely the direction they believed they could retreat if needed.

But soon their own bows appear, and arrows slice past me. I can’t fire anymore without risking my life, so I kneel behind a rock outcrop and pray that my instincts are right.

Gren is an Aud. He’d have heard the commotion Wylan’s group just made.

Tell me he heard.

It’s the only chance Hayden and I have of getting out of this alive.

I look to my right. Hayden has taken cover behind a tree. When he sees me, he winks. There’s something a little reckless about him. He’s enjoying this. Like me.

Wylan’s group is creeping toward us. I’m no Aud, but I can hear them approaching, their steps swishing through grass and crunching on twigs.

It hits me then: my gamble failed. There’s been no sign of Gren or anyone else. I look at Hayden again. We’re going to have to make a run for it, and that won’t work either. Most likely I’ll get a few arrows in my back.

I pull up to my feet and see Hayden do the same. No time to dwell on the situation. Just have to act.

Hayden tips his chin, telling me to run first while he lays down a barrage of shots, giving me cover.

But then I hear something new. Shouts behind me. Peering over the outcropping, I see Wylan’s group scattering. Arrows are sailing down at them from the west.

Gren! He heard. He and Reef have positioned themselves opposite us, behind Wylan’s group.

And better still, a volley of arrows flies from the south as well. Hyde and Straggler have joined in the fight too. Gren and Reef must have sent them a signal—or they’d seen the commotion themselves.

Hayden lets out a growl of pure battle hunger and leaps into action. I grab my bow and set to work again, my heart swelling with what I know is a sure victory.

We have hemmed in Wylan’s group. Thanks to the fires, Hayden and I landed in an advantageous position. While Hyde, Straggler, Reef, and Gren push the intruders out of Tide territory, Hayden and I have created a dam, prohibiting their retreat to the borderlands. We have trapped them.

I focus on one target, loosing an arrow. It plunges into Wylan’s thigh. He buckles to his knees, clutching his leg. He looks up at me. “Shoot her!” he screams.

The words die in his throat as my next arrow spears him through the stomach. He topples over. I move on to my next target, knowing that Wylan is finished.

We could turn this into a slaughter if we wanted to, but we don’t.

Reef’s whistle calls us off. I lower my bow and see that we showed restraint and mercy. We wounded quite a few, but their loss of life is minimal.

“Go! Get off this land!” I yell.

Then I watch as the survivors limp away.

Wylan is not one of them. He lies motionless on the grass. I put him there, and I feel no regret for what I’ve done.

He’ll never be a threat to the Tides again.

10

In the Battle Room, Reef and Hayden take turns explaining what happened.

When they are finished, Perry’s green eyes narrow on me. “Why did you engage them?”

I could give him one of several different answers. Gut feeling. Fear. Because I knew we could press our advantage. But instead I just say, “I wanted it to be over. And I knew we’d have to take some risks to keep him out for good.”

“Thank you, Brooke. You did well.” He holds my eyes a moment longer, his direct gaze brimming with gratitude and respect. Something passes between us that feels solid and promising.

I was wrong before. Perry and I don’t have an ending. We just have more beginnings.

When the discussion turns to food rations and other matters that don’t concern me, I excuse myself.

My impulse is to find Clara, but somehow my feet take me to the Dweller cavern.

Molly comes over when she sees me. “Well done,” she coos, cupping my cheeks. “I heard all about it from Willow.”

I went straight to the Battle Room when I arrived. How Willow knows everything before everyone is a mystery to me.

“Thanks,” I say to Molly. “Does that mean I get out of Dweller water duty today?”

She purses her lips. “Well, I suppose since—”

“I’m kidding, Molly.” Feeling strong and proud of myself, I pick up one of the jugs by the water barrel and fill it, deciding I’ll pitch in for a little while.

Today the Dwellers are improving. I see glimpses of life returning to them. The regular rise and fall of their chests as they slumber. The twitching behind their eyelids that tells me they’re dreaming instead of floating in darkness.

Soren is awake. He watches me for a few minutes before I finally kneel beside him.

“I was waiting for you,” he rasps.

“Why didn’t you call me over?” I say, giving him some water.

“I don’t know your name.”

He wants me to tell him, but for some reason I like keeping it from him. “Shame,” I say, putting the clay jug to his cracked lips. He takes five long sips. His increasing thirst is a good sign he’s recovering.

“The water?” he says, nodding at the jug. “You don’t need it.”

“I don’t need it?”

“As an excuse. You’re using it so you can come talk to me.”

I’m tempted to pour the rest on his head. “Really?” I say, forcing myself to look smitten. “I can come over to your side anytime?” I stand. “What about when I want to leave your side? Do I need an excuse then? Or permission?” I start walking backward. “Oh, look.” I glance at my feet. “It’s working!”

He grins. “Your name!” He tries to raise his voice, but it comes out sounding more like a croak.

“Bye, Soren!”

I leave the cavern because I want him to wonder where I went. Also because I remember the reason I came here to begin with.

I had forgotten that Aria was moved after her surgery. She’s been recovering in Perry’s tent. That’s where I head.

I find her sleeping on a bed pad wide enough for two. No need to guess who she shares it with. The realization stings, but only faintly.

The warrior in me is too strong today for me to feel weakness. And while I have not moved on, I am moving. I am trying. I am creating new beginnings.

I kneel at her side and take a few seconds to let my pulse calm. Then I lean close to her and say what needs saying.

“I told you before that you took him from me. . . . You didn’t. He was mine for a time, but now that’s past, and it’s all right. It would have happened with you or without you. But now he’s yours. He belongs to you, and I think he always will. And I hope you know how lucky that makes you. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I don’t hate you. You never deserved that. So . . . that’s all.”

11

That night, Clara sleeps next to me again.

She doesn’t cry and my mother doesn’t cry either. I wake up feeling rested and cheered. It’s a feeling I recognize. It’s how I used to always be. Maybe we’re all adjusting to being reunited.

“Take me outside, Brooke,” Clara pleads after a breakfast of boiled oats and a handful of dates.

I can’t see why not. Wylan isn’t a threat anymore, and I won’t take her far. Just right to the cove outside. “Sure,” I say. “Let’s go.”

Talon and Willow skip up as we pass the platform. Willow’s constant shadow, her mutt, Flea, prances up as well. When they learn where Clara and I are going, they ask to come along.

“Fine,” I say. “Sure.” Nothing can spoil my mood. “Anyone else?”

“Straggler!” chirps Willow. “You have to come!”

“I’m busy, Willow,” he calls over.

He’s on his back on the platform. It looks like we interrupted his nap.

“You’re not busy!” Talon shouts. He and Willow scuttle over to Straggler and grab him by the arms. As I watch, they yank him off the platform and tow him over.

I don’t know any adults as persuasive as children.

A race begins before we have even emerged from the mouth of the cave. Willow darts across the beach, Flea barking as he lopes alongside her. Clara breaks into a run, kicking up sand behind her. She’s fast, but Talon is all heart and determination. I wonder who will win.

I plop down to watch, their shrieks and hollers ringing in my ears. Willow trips first and tumbles onto the sand, and then Clara does. Talon throws himself down, I think, because everyone else has done it.

The morning is fearsome—a storm is gathering strength above us—but I don’t care. The sound of my sister’s laughter is louder than the crash of the waves. How can this day ever be anything less than perfect?

“Don’t feel like racing?” Straggler asks as he sits next to me on the sand.

“Maybe later.” I look at him. “How about you?”

“Nah.” Straggler shrugs. “I mean I would. But I twisted my ankle this morning and it’s a little sore.”

“What happened?”

“Oh . . .” He smiles. “It’s my birthday.”

Like that explains everything. “For your birthday you got a twisted ankle?”

“Yeah, it’s a family tradition. Whoever’s birthday it is gets pinned down first thing in the morning and roughed up a little. It’s something my brothers and I do to remember.”

“Remember?” I ask.

“Our father. When we were younger, he used to wake us up by tickling us. Eventually the whole lot of us got in on it, even our mother. You always knew you’d wake up pinned down and tickled to the point of crying when it was your birthday. Mom and Dad passed on, but we still do it. Every birthday. Except we changed it from tickling, you know, since we’re not little kids anymore.”

“So you beat each other up.”

“Yeah . . . not badly, though. You think it’s strange, don’t you?”

I shake my head. Their tradition doesn’t bother me. In fact, I think it’s sweet. But I feel bad for Straggler. Hyde and Hayden are well over six feet—more than a head taller than Straggler, who hasn’t hit his growth spurt yet—and they’re strong. It seems like they have an unfair advantage, but Strag must be used to it. As the youngest and smallest, he’s the butt of everyone’s jokes, and he’s forever lagging behind, which earned him his nickname. A shame since his given name, Haven, is so beautiful.

“How old are you today?” I ask.

“Sixteen.” He grins proudly, like he’s automatically become a man. Then he glances away, and a giggle slips out of him that’s all boy. “My brothers said if I ever kissed you, they’d beat me unconscious.”

Well. All right, then. “They told you?”

“No. They’d never talk. It’s just I overheard them arguing. They were both saying you like them the most, and then the rest sort of came out.”

“Is that so?” I shake my head. This was bound to happen. “Do you want to kiss me?”

Straggler makes a squeaking sound. “What?” he says, his eyes flying open. “I don’t know! I mean, yes. I would. I do. But I know we aren’t going to, so that’s all right. More than all right because of course I didn’t expect you to. Do that. With me.”

I stare absently at Willow, Talon, and Clara, who have begun another race, as I consider the situation.

I have no desire to kiss Straggler. My move on plan has changed. Hyde and Hayden are incredible in their own ways, but I’m not ready to open my heart again. Not yet, but one day I know I will be. One day I’ll find someone who will see me as the best instead of one of the best.

I will find a life-sustaining love.

But my new plan is to focus on me now. Instead of trying to heal a wound, I’m going to keep doing things that make me feel strong. Spending time with Clara. Protecting my tribe. I can do those. They fill me. And some wounds you can’t fix by sheer will. You just have to let them heal on their own.

Regardless of all that, I am going to kiss Straggler. Not for me, but for him. The contentment inside me is so strong that I have to spread it.

I actually feel like trying to be nice.

“Haven?” I say. “I have a birthday gift for you.” Then I lean over and plant a kiss on his lips.

When I draw away, he is stunned, but I’m not finished yet. I can’t help but smile, knowing how much my next words will mean to him. “You can tell both of your brothers I said you were the best.”

Copyright

Copyright © 2013 by Veronica Rossi

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

EPub Edition © 2013

ISBN 978-0-06-230544-2

EPub Edition OCTOBER 2013 ISBN 9780062305442

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

FIRST EDITION

DEDICATION

For Michael

CONTENTS

Dedication

1. Aria

2. Peregrine

3. Aria

4. Peregrine

5. Aria

6. Peregrine

7. Aria

8. Peregrine

9. Aria

10. Peregrine

11. Aria

12. Peregrine

13. Aria

14. Peregrine

15. Aria

16. Peregrine

17. Aria

18. Peregrine

19. Aria

20. Peregrine

21. Aria

22. Peregrine

23. Aria

24. Peregrine

25. Aria

26. Peregrine

27. Aria

28. Peregrine

29. Aria

30. Peregrine

31. Aria

32. Peregrine

33. Aria

34. Peregrine

35. Aria

36. Peregrine

37. Aria

38. Peregrine

39. Aria

40. Peregrine

41. Aria

42. Peregrine

43. Aria

44. Peregrine

45. Aria

46. Aria

47. Aria

48. Peregrine

49. Aria

50. Peregrine

51. Aria

52. Peregrine

53. Aria

Acknowledgments

Credits

Copyright

1

ARIA

Aria lurched upright, the echo of gunshots ringing in her ears.

Disoriented, she blinked at her surroundings, taking in the canvas walls, the two bed pallets, and the stack of battered storage trunks, finally recognizing Perry’s tent.

Pain pulsed steadily in her right arm. She looked down at the white bandage wrapped from her shoulder to her wrist, dread swirling in her stomach.

A Guardian had shot her in Reverie.

She licked her dry lips, tasting the bitterness of pain medication. Just try it, she told herself. How hard could it be?

Aches stabbed deep in her bicep as she tried to make a fist. Her fingers gave only the slightest twitch. It was like her mind had lost the ability to speak with her hand, the message vanishing somewhere along her arm.

Climbing to her feet, she swayed in place for a moment, waiting for a wave of dizziness to pass. She’d come to this tent soon after she and Perry had arrived, and hadn’t left since. But she couldn’t stay there a second longer. What was the point, if she wasn’t getting better?

Her boots sat on top of one of the trunks. Determined to find Perry, she slipped them on—a challenge, one-handed. “Stupid things,” she muttered. She tugged harder, the ache in her arm becoming a burn.

“Oh, don’t blame the poor boots.”

Molly, the tribe healer, stepped through the tent flaps with a lamp in hand. Soft and gray-haired, she looked nothing like Aria’s mother had, but they had similar demeanors. Steady and dependable.

Aria jammed her feet into her boots—nothing like an audience to motivate—and straightened.

Molly set the lamp down on a trunk and came over. “Are you sure you should be up and about?”

Aria swept her hair behind her ear and tried to slow her breathing. Cold sweat had broken out along her neck. “I’m sure I’ll go insane if I stay here any longer.”

Molly smiled, her full cheeks glowing in the lamplight. “I’ve heard that very comment a few times today.” She pressed a rough-skinned hand to Aria’s cheek. “Your fever’s down, but you’re due for more medication.”

“No.” Aria shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m tired of being asleep.”

Asleep wasn’t really the right word. For the past days, she had a few murky recollections of surfacing from a black abyss for medicine and sips of broth. Sometimes Perry was there, holding her and whispering in her ear. When he’d spoken, she’d seen the glow of embers. Other than that, there’d been nothing but darkness—or nightmares.

Molly took her numb hand and squeezed. Aria felt nothing, but as Molly probed higher, she sucked in a breath, her stomach clenching.

“You’ve had some nerve damage,” Molly said. “I suppose you’re figuring that out for yourself.”

“But it’ll heal, won’t it? Eventually?”

“I care for you too much to give false hope, Aria. The truth is I don’t know. Marron and I did the best we could. We were able to save the limb, at least. For a while it looked like we might have to remove it.”

Aria drew away, turning toward the shadows as the words sank in. Her arm had almost been removed. Taken off, like some expendable part. An accessory. A hat or a scarf. Had she really come that close to waking up and finding a piece of herself missing?

“It’s the arm that was poisoned,” she said, tucking it close to her side. “It wasn’t much to start with anyway.” Her Marking, the half-finished tattoo that would have established her as an Aud, was the ugliest thing she’d ever seen. “Will you show me around, Molly?”

Aria didn’t wait for an answer. The urge to see Perry—and to forget about her arm—was overwhelming. Ducking through the tent flaps, she came to a dead stop outside.

She looked up, overcome by the sheer presence of the cave, a hefty immensity that felt both close and everywhere. Stalactites of every size emerged from the darkness above, darkness unlike what she’d experienced in her medicated haze. That had been empty, an absence. This darkness had sound and volume. It felt full and alive, droning low and constant in her ears.

She drew a deep breath. The cool air smelled brackish and smoky, the scents so strong she could taste them.

“For most of us, the darkness is the hardest part,” Molly said, coming to her side.

Around them, in neat rows, Aria saw more tents, ragged ghosts in the gloom. Sounds carried from farther off, where torches flickered—the crunch of a cart wheeling over stone, the steady trickle of water, the pleading bleat of a goat—all echoed frenetically in the cave, assaulting her sensitive ears.

“When you can’t see more than forty paces off,” Molly continued, “it’s easy to feel trapped. We aren’t, thank the skies. It hasn’t come to that yet.”

“And the Aether?” Aria asked.

“Worse. Storms every day since you arrived, some right on top of us.” Molly threaded her arm through Aria’s healthy one. “We’re lucky to have this place. Sometimes it’s not easy to feel that way, though.”

An image of Reverie crumbling to dust came to Aria’s mind. Her home was gone, and the Tide compound had been abandoned too.

Molly was right. This was better than nothing.

“I suppose you want to see Peregrine,” Molly said, leading Aria past a row of tents.

Immediately, Aria thought. But she said, simply, “Yes.”

“You’ll need to wait a little while, I’m afraid. We had word of people entering the territory. He’s gone out with Gren to meet them. I’m hoping it’s Roar and that he’s brought Cinder with him.”

Just hearing Roar’s name brought a rawness to Aria’s throat. She worried about him. She’d only been separated from him for a few days, but it felt like too long.

They came to an open area, wide as the clearing at the heart of the Tide compound. At the center spread a wooden platform surrounded by tables and chairs—all packed with people gathered around lamps. Dressed in browns and grays, they blended into the dimness, but their chatter drifted toward her, their voices tinged with anxiety.

“We’re only allowed to leave the cave when it’s safe outside,” Molly said, noticing Aria’s expression. “Today there are fires burning close by and a storm just south, so we’ve been stuck here.”

“It’s not safe to be outside? You said Perry was out there.”

Molly winked. “Yes, but he gets to break his own rules.”

Aria shook her head. As Blood Lord, he needed to take risks, more like.

By the stage, people began to notice them. Sun-bleached and salt-scrubbed, the Tides were an aptly named tribe. Aria spotted Reef and a few of his strongest warriors, a group known as the Six. She recognized the three brothers: Hyde, Hayden, and Straggler, the youngest. It didn’t surprise her that Hyde, a Seer like his brothers, spotted her first. He lifted a hand in a tentative greeting.

Aria returned a shaky wave. She barely knew him, or any of these people. She’d only spent a few days with Perry’s tribe before she left the Tide compound. Now, standing before these almost strangers, she felt a powerful longing to see her people, but she didn’t. Not a single person she and Perry had rescued from Reverie was there.

“Where are the Dwellers?” she asked.

“In a separate portion of the cave,” Molly said.

“Why?”

But Molly’s attention had moved to Reef, who left his men and stalked over. In the darkness, his features looked even harsher, and the massive scar that cut from his nose to his ear appeared more sinister.

“You’re finally up,” he said. His tone made it sound like Aria had been lazing around. Perry cared for this man, she reminded herself. Trusted him. But Reef had never made any attempt to befriend her.

She stared into his eyes. “Being injured is boring.”

“You’re needed,” he said, ignoring her sarcasm.

Molly wagged a finger at him. “No, you don’t, Reef. She just woke up and needs a chance to get acclimated. Don’t put this on her so soon.”

Reef squared his shoulders, his thick eyebrows drawing together. “When should I tell her then, Molly? Every day brings a new storm. Every hour, our food stores dwindle. Every minute, someone else comes closer to going mad inside this rock. If there is a better time for her to know the truth, I’d like to know when it is.” He leaned in, a few of his thick braids falling forward. “War rules, Molly. We do what’s needed, when it’s needed, and right now that means she needs to know what’s happening.”

Reef’s words shook any last wisp of fuzziness from Aria’s mind. They brought her back to where she’d been a week ago, alert and tense, a little breathless, with a sense of desperation curling inside her like a stomachache.

“Tell me what happened,” she said.

Reef turned his intense gaze on Aria. “Better if I show you,” he said, striding away.

She followed him from the gathering area, deeper into the cave, where it grew darker and quieter and darker still, her dread mounting with every step. Molly let out a sigh of exasperation, but she came along.

They wove through the melting formations—a forest of stone that dripped from the ceiling and rose up from the ground, gradually molding together—until Aria walked through a natural corridor. Here and there, the tunnel opened to other passageways, which breathed cool damp drafts against her face.

“Down that way is the storage area for medicines and supplies,” Molly said, gesturing to the left. “Everything that’s not food or animals. Those are kept in the caverns at the south end.” Her voice sounded a little too cheerful, like she was trying to compensate for Reef’s gruff manner. She swung the lamp gently as she walked, causing the shadows to tilt up and back along the cramped space. Aria found herself growing slightly light-headed and seasick. Or cavesick.

Where were they taking her?

She had never known darkness like this. Outside there was always Aether, or sunlight, or moonlight. In the Pod, within the protected walls of Reverie, lights always blazed. Always. This was new, this suffocating pool. She felt the pitch black fill her lungs with every breath. She was drinking the dark. Wading through it.

“Behind that curtain is the Battle Room,” Molly continued. “It’s a smaller cavern where we brought one of the trestle tables from the cookhouse. Perry meets with people in there to discuss matters of importance. The poor boy hardly ever leaves.”

Walking silently ahead of them, Reef shook his head.

“I worry about him, Reef,” Molly said, with plain irritation. “Someone has to.”

“And you think I don’t?”

Aria worried too—more than either of them—but she bit her lip, leaving them to argue.

“Well, you’re good at hiding it, if so,” Molly shot back. “All you seem to do is lecture him about what he’s doing wrong.”

Reef glanced over his shoulder. “Should I start slapping him on the back and telling him he’s wonderful? Will that do us any good?”

“You could try it once in a while, yes.”

Aria stopped listening to them. The hair on her arms lifted as her ears latched onto new sounds. Moans. Whimpers. Sickly sounds that swept toward her through the tunnel. A chorus of need.

She broke away from Molly and Reef, clutching her wounded arm to her side as she rushed ahead. Rounding a bend in the corridor, she arrived in a large, dim cavern, lit along the perimeter by lamps.

Spread across the floor on blankets lay dozens of people in varying states of consciousness. Their faces were ghastly white against their grays—the same clothes she’d worn her entire life until she’d been cast out of Reverie.

“They took ill immediately after you all arrived,” Molly said, catching up to her. “You went to Perry’s tent, and they came here, and that’s how it’s been. Perry said this same thing happened to you when you first came out of Reverie. It’s the shock to your immune systems. There were inoculations onboard the Hover you arrived in. A supply for thirty people—but there are forty-two here. We administered equal amounts to everyone, at Perry’s request. He said it’s what you’d have wanted.”

Aria couldn’t respond. Later, when she could think clearly again, she would recall Molly’s every word. She’d consider the way Reef watched her with his arms crossed, like this was her problem to fix. Now she moved further inside, her heart stuck in her throat.

Most of the people she saw were still as death. Others shook with fever, their complexions sallow, almost green. She didn’t know which was worse.

She searched the faces around for her friends—Caleb and Rune and—

“Aria . . . over here.”

She followed the voice. A pang of guilt hit her when she spotted Soren; he hadn’t come to mind. Aria stepped past the quaking bundles, kneeling at his side.

Soren had always been so burly, but now the thickness in his shoulders and neck had deflated. Even wrapped in a blanket she could tell. She could see it in his hollow cheeks and sunken eyes, which were heavy, half-lidded, but focused on her.

“Nice of you to come by,” he said, clearly more lucid than the others. “I’m a little envious you got private accommodations. Pays to know the right people, I guess.”

Aria didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t absorb this level of suffering. Her throat was choked with it. Tight with the need to help. To change this somehow.

Soren blinked tiredly. “I can see why you love the outside,” he added. “It’s mega champ out here.”

2

PEREGRINE

You think it’s Roar and Twig?” Gren asked, pulling his horse alongside Perry’s.

Perry inhaled, searching for traces of the riders who’d been spotted earlier. He smelled nothing but smoke.

Ten minutes ago he’d left the cave, eager for fresh air. For light and the feeling of openness and movement. What he’d gotten was a thick gray haze from the morning’s fires blanketing everything, and the stinging sensation of the Aether like soft pinpricks over his skin.

“I’d be surprised if it was someone else,” he replied. “Hardly anyone besides me and Roar knows this trail exists.”

He had hunted these woods with Roar since they were kids. They had killed their first buck together not far from here. Perry knew every bend on this path, which cut through land that had once been his father’s, then his brother’s, and then—half a year ago when he’d become Blood Lord—his.

It had changed, though. In the past months, Aether storms had started fires that sheared through the hills, leaving wide, charred stretches. The temperature was too cold for late spring, and the smells of the wood were different too. The scents of life—earth, grass, and game—seemed buried beneath the acrid stench of smoke.

Gren tugged his brown cap down. “What are the odds they have Cinder with them?” he asked, a note of desperation bleeding into his voice. Cinder had been kidnapped while under Gren’s watch, and he hadn’t forgiven himself.

“Good,” Perry said. “Roar always comes through.”

He thought of Cinder, of how weak and frail the boy had been when he’d been taken. Perry didn’t want to think about what was happening to him in Sable’s and Hess’s hands. They had joined forces, Horns and Dwellers, and abducted Cinder for his ability to control the Aether. He was key to reaching the Still Blue, it seemed. Perry just wanted him back.

“Perry.” Gren reined in his horse. He angled his head, turning to better catch sounds with his keen ears. “Two horses. Riding hard right toward us.”

Perry couldn’t see anyone yet as he scanned the trail ahead, but it had to be them. He whistled to let Roar know he was there. Seconds passed as he waited for Roar’s answering call.

None came.

Perry cursed. Roar would have heard and whistled back.

He swept his bow off his shoulder and nocked an arrow, his gaze never leaving the bend in the path. Gren drew his bow as well, and they fell silent, bracing for anything.

“Now,” Gren murmured.

Perry heard the horses thundering closer. He drew his bowstring back, aiming at the trail, as Roar tore around a stand of birches.

Perry lowered his bow, trying to sort out what was happening.

Roar approached at a gallop, his black mount kicking up clods of dirt. His expression was focused—cold—and it didn’t change when he spotted Perry.

Twig, one of the Six like Gren, rounded the bend behind him. Like Roar, he rode alone. Perry’s hope of getting Cinder back crashed.

Roar rode hard until the last moment, and then checked his mount sharply.

Perry stared at him, unable to speak, the silence stretching between them. He hadn’t expected to look at Roar and think Liv, though he should have. She had belonged to Roar, too. The loss landed like a blow to Perry’s stomach, as hard as it had days ago when he’d first learned.

“Good you’re back safe, Roar,” he said finally. His voice sounded strained, but he got the words out at least.

Roar’s horse stamped in agitation, tossing its head, but Roar’s gaze held steady.

Perry knew that hostile look. It had just never been directed his way.

“Where have you been?” Roar asked.

Everything about that question was wrong. The accusing tone in Roar’s voice. His implication that Perry had failed in some way.

Where had he been? Looking after four hundred people who were withering away in a cave.

Perry ignored the question, asking his own. “Did you find Hess and Sable? Was Cinder with them?”

“I found them,” Roar said coldly. “And, yes. They have Cinder. What are you going to do about it?”

Then he put his heels to his horse and rode away.

They returned to the cave without a word. The awkwardness clung to them, as dense as the smoke hanging over the woods. Even Gren and Twig—best of friends—said little to each other, their usual banter banished by the tense mood.

The hour of silence left Perry plenty of time to remember the last time he’d seen Roar: a week ago, in the eye of the worst Aether storm he’d ever been in. Roar and Aria had just come back to Tide territory after spending a month away. Seeing them together after weeks of missing Aria, Perry had lost his mind and attacked Roar. He’d swung his fists, assuming the worst of a friend who had never once doubted him.

Surely that contributed to Roar’s dark temper, but the real cause was obvious.

Liv.

Perry tensed at his sister’s memory, and his horse shied beneath him. “Whoa. Easy, girl,” he said, settling the mare. He shook his head, streaked at himself for letting his thoughts slip.

He couldn’t let himself think about Liv. Grief would make him weak—something he couldn’t afford with hundreds of lives in his hands. It would be harder to stay focused with Roar back, but he’d do it. He had no choice.

Now, as he took the switchback trail down to the protected cove below, he caught sight of Roar up ahead and told himself not to worry. Roar was his brother in every way except by blood. They’d find a way past a fight. Past what had happened with Liv.

Perry dismounted on the small beach, staying behind as the others disappeared into the dark cleft that led into the belly of the mountain. The cave was his personal torture, and he wasn’t ready to return to it yet. When he was in there, it took every bit of his concentration to quell the panic that tightened his lungs and stole his breath away.

“You’re claustrophobic,” Marron had told him yesterday. “It’s an irrational fear of being trapped in close spaces.”

But he was also Blood Lord. He didn’t have time for fear, irrational or otherwise.

He drew a breath, savoring the outside air for a few moments longer. Afternoon ocean breezes had blown away the smoky haze, and for the first time that day, he could see the Aether.

The blue currents rolled across the sky, a tempest of luminescent, twisting waves. They were fiercer than ever—more violent than even yesterday—but something else caught his eye. He saw tinges of red where the Aether churned most intensely, like hot spots. Like the red of sunrise, bleeding through the crest of a wave.

“Do you see that?” Perry said to Hyde, who jogged out to meet him.

One of the best Seers in the Tides, Hyde followed Perry’s gaze, his hawk’s eyes narrowing. “I see it, Per. What do you think it means?”

“Not sure,” Perry said, “but I doubt it’s good.”

They fell quiet for a few moments before Hyde broke the silence.

“I wish I could see the Still Blue, you know?” His gaze had moved to the horizon, across endless miles of ocean. “It’d be easier to take all of this if I knew it was there, waiting for us.”

Perry hated the defeat that gathered in Hyde’s temper, a flat, stale scent like dust. “You’ll see it soon,” he said. “You’ll be the second to see it.”

Hyde took the bait. He grinned. “My eyes are stronger than yours.”

“I meant Brooke, not me.”

Hyde shoved him in the shoulder. “That’s not right. I have twice her range.”

“You’re a blind man compared to her.”

Their debate continued as they headed into the cave, Hyde’s temper lifting, just as Perry had hoped. He needed to keep morale up, or they’d never get through this.

“Find Marron for me, and get him to the Battle Room,” he told Hyde as they stepped inside. “I need Reef and Molly there as well.” He nodded to Roar, who stood a few paces away, staring across the cave with his arms crossed. “Get him water and something to eat, and have him join us right away.”

It was time for a meeting, and Roar had information about Cinder, and Sable and Hess. In order to reach the Still Blue, Perry needed Dweller ships—he and Aria had taken one from Reverie, but it wouldn’t carry enough people—and he also needed a precise heading or the Tides wouldn’t go anywhere.

Cinder. Hovers. A heading.

Three things, and Sable and Hess had them all. But that was going to change.

Roar spoke with his back still turned. “Perry seems to have forgotten that I can hear his every word, Hyde.” He turned to face Perry—and there was that dark stare again. “Whether I want to or not.”

Anger washed over Perry. Nearby, Hyde and Gren tensed, their tempers spiking red, but Twig, who’d been with Roar for days, moved first.

He dropped the horse lead in his hands and darted to Roar, taking a fistful of his black coat. “Come on,” he said, giving Roar a nudge that was almost a shove. “I’ll show you the way. Easy to get lost around here till you get used to it.”

When they’d left, Gren shook his head. “What was that?”

Answers flipped through Perry’s mind.

Roar without Liv.

Roar without a reason to live.

Roar in hell.

“Nothing,” he said, too rattled to explain. “He’ll cool off.”

He headed for the Battle Room as Gren went to tend to the horses. Anxiety built inside him with every step he took, pressing on his lungs, but he fought against it. At least the darkness of the cave didn’t bother him, as it did most everyone. By some twist of fate, his Seer eyes saw even better in low light.

Halfway there, Willow’s dog, Flea, charged up, jumping and barking like he hadn’t seen Perry in weeks. Talon and Willow arrived right behind him.

“Did you find Roar?” Talon asked. “Was it him?”

Perry grabbed Talon, holding him upside down, and was rewarded with a belly laugh. “It sure was, Squeak.” Roar had shown up—in appearance, at least.

“And Cinder, too?” Willow asked, her eyes wide with hope. She had grown close to Cinder. She was just as desperate to get him back as Perry.

“No. Just Roar and Twig so far, but we’ll get him, Willow. I promise.”

Despite his assurance, Willow let loose an impressive stream of curses. Talon giggled and Perry laughed too, but he felt sorry for her. He scented the way she hurt.

Perry set Talon down. “Do me a favor, Squeak? Check on Aria for me?” She’d been drifting on pain medication since they’d arrived at the cave, the wound in her arm refusing to heal. He went to see her whenever he could, and spent every night with her in his arms, but he still missed her. He couldn’t wait until she woke.

“Sure!” Talon chirped. “Come on, Willow.”

Perry watched them dash away, Flea loping after them. He had expected the cave to frighten his nephew, but Talon had adapted—all the kids had. The darkness inspired them to play endless games of hide-and-seek, and they spent hours on adventures exploring the caverns. More than once, Perry had heard kids in hysterics over the echoing of sounds—some best left unheard.

He only wished the adults had the same spirit.

Perry stepped into the Battle Room, nodding to Marron. The ceiling was low and uneven, forcing him to duck as he made his way around the long trestle table. He fought to keep his breathing steady, telling himself the walls weren’t caving in; it only felt like they were.

Roar had arrived before him. He leaned back in his chair, his boots kicked up on the table. He held a bottle of Luster, and he didn’t look up as Perry entered. Bad signs.

Bear and Reef nodded at Perry, in the midst of a conversation about the red flares that had appeared in the Aether. Bear’s walking stick rested lengthwise on the table, spanning the distance occupied by the three men. Whenever he saw that cane, Perry remembered dragging Bear from the rubble of his house.

“Any idea why the color is changing?” Perry asked. He took his usual seat, with Marron on his right and Reef on his left. He felt strange sitting across from Roar, like they were adversaries.

Candles burned at the center of the table, the flames steady and perfect; there were no drafts back here to make them flicker. Marron had ordered rugs hung along the perimeter to create false walls and the illusion of a real room. Perry wondered if it helped the others.

“Yes,” Marron said. He began twisting a gold ring around his finger. “The same phenomenon happened during the Unity. It signaled the onset of constant storms. They held for thirty years in those days. We’ll see the color continue to change until it’s entirely red. When that happens, it will be impossible to go outside.” He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “We’ll be confined here, I’m afraid.”

“How long do we have?” Perry asked.

“The accounts from those days vary, so it’s difficult to say precisely. It could be as long as a few weeks, if we’re lucky.”

“And if we’re not?”

“Days.”

“Skies,” Bear said, propping his heavy arms on the table. He let out a loud breath, setting the candle flame trembling in front of him. “Only days?”

Perry tried to digest that information. He had brought the Tides there as a temporary shelter. Promised them it wouldn’t be forever—and it couldn’t be. The cave wasn’t a Pod like Reverie, with the capability to sustain itself. He needed to get them out of there.

He looked at Reef, for once craving his advice.

But then Aria stepped into the chamber.

Perry lurched to his feet so fast that his chair fell backward. He took the ten paces to her in a flash, bumping his head on the low ceiling, knocking his leg into the table, moving with less coordination than he had in his entire life.

He pulled her close, holding her as tight as he could while being careful about her arm.

She smelled incredible. Like violets and open fields under the sun. Her scent set his pulse racing. It was freedom. It was everything the cave wasn’t.

“You’re awake,” he said, and almost laughed at himself. He’d been waiting to talk to her for days; he could have done better.

“Talon said you’d be here,” she said, smiling at him.

He ran his hand over the bandage on her arm. “How do you feel?”

She shrugged. “Better.”

He wished it were really true, but the dark circles under her eyes and the pallor of her skin told him otherwise. Still, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Easily.

The room had fallen quiet. They had an audience, but Perry didn’t care. They’d spent a winter apart while she’d been at Marron’s, and then another month when she’d gone to Rim with Roar. The week they’d spent together at the Tides had been made up of stolen moments. He’d learned his lesson. He wouldn’t waste another second with her.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her. Aria made a small sound of surprise, and then he felt her relax. Her arms came around him, and what started as a brush of their lips became deeper. He gathered her close and forgot everything, everyone except her, until he heard Reef’s gruff voice behind him.

“Sometimes I forget he’s nineteen.”

“Oh, yes. Easy to do.” The gentle reply could only be from Marron.

“Not now.”

“No . . . certainly not now.”

3

ARIA

Aria blinked at Perry, a little overwhelmed.

Their relationship had just made a definitive shift to public, and she was unprepared for the wave of pride that swept through her. He was hers, and he was incredible, and they didn’t have to hide, or explain, or be apart anymore.

“We probably should get started with the meeting,” he said, smiling down at her.

She mumbled her agreement and forced herself away from him, trying not to look as staggered as she felt. She spotted Roar standing on the other side of the table, relief snapping her back to the present.

“Roar!” Aria rushed to his side, wrapping him in a half hug.

“Easy, there,” he said, frowning at her arm. “What happened?”

“Oh, this? I got myself shot.”

“What did you go and do that for?”

“I wanted some sympathy, I guess.”

It was their usual way with each other, teasing and light, but Aria studied him as they spoke, and what she saw brought a twist to her heart.

Though he sounded like himself, Roar’s eyes had lost all their humor. They were heavy with sadness now—a sadness he carried everywhere. In his smile. In the drape of his shoulders. Even in the way he stood, weight to one side, like his entire life was out of balance. He looked as he had a week ago, when they’d floated down the Snake River together: heartbroken.

Her attention moved past him to Marron, who made his way toward them and smiled expectantly, his blue eyes alert and lively, his cheeks ruddy and round—the very opposite of Roar’s hardened planes.

“It’s so good to see you,” Marron said, pulling her close. “We’ve all been worried.”

“It’s good to see you too.” He was soft, and he smelled so good, like rosewater and woodsmoke. She held on to him a moment longer, remembering the months she’d spent in his home over the winter after learning that her mother had died. She’d have been lost without his help.

“Aren’t we in the middle of a crisis, Aria?” Soren walked in with his shoulders back and his chin tipped up. “I swear that’s what you said five minutes ago.”

The expression on his face—arrogant, annoyed, disgusted—had been hers six months ago when she’d first met Perry.

“I’ll get rid of him,” Reef said, rising from his chair.

“No,” Aria said. Soren was Hess’s son. Whether he deserved it or not, the Dwellers would look to him as a leader, along with her. “He’s with me. I asked him to be here.”

“Then he stays,” Perry said smoothly. “Let’s get started.”

That surprised her. She’d worried about Perry’s reaction to Soren—the two had despised each other at first sight.

As they settled around the table, Aria didn’t miss the dark look Reef cast her way. He expected Soren to disrupt the meeting. She wasn’t going to let that happen.

She sat next to Roar, which felt both right and not, but Perry already had Reef and Marron at his sides. Roar slouched in his chair and took a long pull from a bottle of Luster. The action struck her as angry and determined. She wanted to lift the bottle from his hands, but he’d had enough taken away from him.

“Hess and Sable have almost every advantage, as you all know,” Perry said. “Time is against us too. We have to move on them quickly. Tomorrow morning, I’ll lead a team to their camp with the aim of rescuing Cinder, securing Hovers, and getting the exact heading for the Still Blue. In order to plan the mission, I need information. I need to know what you saw,” he said to Roar, “and what you know,” he said to Soren.

As he spoke, the Blood Lord chain winked at his neck and candlelight glinted on his hair, which was pulled back but coming loose in pieces. A dark shirt stretched across his shoulders and arms, but Aria could easily recall the Markings it concealed.

The rough-edged hunter with the fierce glare she’d met half a year ago was almost gone. He was confident now, steadier. Still fearsome, but controlled. He was everything she’d expected him to become.

His green eyes flicked to her, holding for an instant like he knew her thoughts, before moving to Roar beside her.

“Whenever you’re ready, Roar,” he said.

Roar answered without bothering to sit up or project his voice. “Hess and Sable joined up. They’re on the plateau between Lone Pine and the Snake River, right out in the open. It’s a big camp. More like a small city.”

“Why there?” Perry asked. “Why gather forces inland if the Still Blue is across the sea? What are they waiting for?”

“If I knew any of those things,” Roar said, “I’d have said so.”

Aria’s head snapped to him. On the surface his appearance verged on boredom, but his eyes held a predatory focus that hadn’t been there moments ago. He gripped the bottle of Luster tightly, the lean muscles in his forearms taut.

She looked around the table, picking up other signs of tension. Reef sat forward, his gaze boring into Roar. Marron darted a nervous glance at the entrance, where Gren and Twig stood, looking very much like guards. Even Soren had picked up on something. He looked from Perry to Roar, like he was trying to figure out what everyone knew that he didn’t.

“Anything else you do know that you’d like to share?” Perry said calmly, like he’d missed Roar’s biting comment completely.

“I saw the fleet of Hovers,” Roar answered. “I counted a dozen like the one outside on the bluff and other kinds of smaller craft too. They’re lined up on the plateau outside this segmented thing that’s coiled up like a snake. It’s massive. . . . Each unit is more a building than a craft.”

Soren snorted. “The segmented, coily thing is called a Komodo X12.”

Roar’s dark eyes slid to him. “That’s helpful, Dweller. I think that cleared it up for all of us.”

Aria looked from Soren to Roar, dread moving like ice through her veins.

“You want to know what the Komodo is?” Soren said. “I’ll tell you. Better yet, how about you take these rugs down and I’ll draw some stick figures on the cave wall for you? Then we could have a séance or a sacrifice or something.” Soren looked at Perry. “Maybe you could supply some drums and half-naked women?”

Aria had some experience handling Soren, and was prepared. She turned from Perry to Marron. “Would drawings help?” she asked, fighting Soren’s sarcasm with directness.

Marron leaned forward. “Oh yes. They’d help immensely. Any specifications you can provide with respect to the Hovers’ speed, range, cargo capacity, weaponry. Onboard supplies . . . Truly, Soren, anything would be very useful. We’d know which craft we need. We could prepare better. Yes, drawings and any other information you can recall. Thank you.”

Perry turned to Gren. “Bring paper, a ruler, pens.”

Soren looked from Marron to Perry to Aria, his mouth gaping. “I’m not drawing anything. I was joking.”

“You think our situation is a joke?” she said.

“What? No. But I’m not helping these Savag—these people.”

“They’ve been taking care of you for days. Do you think you’d be alive if weren’t for these people?”

Soren looked around the table like he wanted to argue, but said nothing.

“You’re the only one who knows the Hovers,” Aria continued. “You’re the expert. You should also tell us everything you know about your father’s plans with Sable. Every one of us needs to know as much as possible.”

Soren scowled. “You’re kidding me.”

“Didn’t we just agree this wasn’t a laughing matter?”

“Why should I trust them?” Soren asked, as if there were no Outsiders there.

“How about because you don’t have a choice?”

Soren’s furious gaze went to Perry, who was actually watching her, his lips pressed together like he was fighting a smile.

“Fine,” Soren said. “I’ll tell you what I know. I intercepted one of the comms between my father and Sable before Reverie . . . fell.”

Reverie hadn’t just fallen. It had been deserted. Thousands of people had been abandoned and left to die—by Soren’s father, Hess. Aria understood why Soren might not want to bring attention to that fact.

“Sable and a few of his top people have the coordinates to the Still Blue memorized,” he continued. “But there’s more to it than just knowing where it is. There’s a barrier of Aether at sea somewhere, and the only way to the Still Blue is by breaching it. Sable said he’d found a way through it, though.”

The chamber fell silent. They all knew that way was Cinder.

Perry rubbed his jaw, the first trace of anger appearing on his face. Across the back of his hand, Aria saw the scars Cinder had given him, pale and roped.

“You’re sure Cinder’s there?” he said, turning to Roar. “You saw him?”

“I’m sure,” said Roar.

Seconds passed.

“Do you have nothing more to add, Roar?” Perry asked.

“You want more?” Roar drew himself up. “Here’s more: Cinder was with the girl named Kirra, who was here at the compound, according to Twig. I saw her take him into the Komodo thing. You know who else is there? Sable. The man who killed your sister. The ships we need are also there, since I’m assuming the one outside isn’t going to carry us all to the Blue. It looks to me like they have everything and we have nothing. There it is, Perry. Now you know the situation. What do you recommend we do? Stay in this miserable pit and talk some more?”

Reef slammed his hand on the table. “Enough!” he bellowed, pushing up from his chair. “You cannot speak to him that way. I won’t allow it.”

“It’s grief,” Marron said softly.

“I don’t care what it is. It doesn’t excuse his behavior.”

“Speaking of excuses,” Roar said, “you’ve been looking for a way to come after me for a while now, Reef.” He stood and spread his hands. “Looks like you’ve got it.”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Soren said, shaking his head. “You people are animals. I feel like a zookeeper.”

“Shut up, Soren.” Aria rose to her feet and took Roar’s arm. “Please, Roar. Sit down.”

He jerked away. Aria flinched as pain ripped through her, and she pulled in a hissing breath. She’d reached for Roar with her good arm, but his sharp movement had given her a jolt, igniting a hot flare in her wounded bicep.

Perry shot out of his chair. “Roar!”

The room fell quiet in an instant.

Aria’s arm trembled, pressed against her stomach. She forced herself to relax. To hide the waves of pain that tore through her.

Roar stared at her in silent mortification. “I forgot,” he said under his breath.

“I did too. It’s all right. I’m fine.”

He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He never would. But still no one moved. No one made a sound.

“I’m fine,” she said again.

Slowly, the attention of the room shifted to Perry, who was glaring at Roar, his gaze burning with rage.

4

PEREGRINE

Anger made Perry feel strong and clear-headed. Sharper than he’d felt since he stepped into the cave.

He drew a few breaths, forcing his muscles to loosen. To let go of the drive to attack.

“Stay,” he said, looking from Roar to Aria. “Everyone else, leave.”

The chamber emptied in a rush, Reef quelling Soren’s objections with a few firm pushes, Bear last to step outside. Perry waited for the knock of his walking stick to fade away before he spoke. “Are you hurt?”

Aria shook her head.

“No?” he said. She was lying to protect Roar, because the answer was obvious in her braced stance.

She looked away, her gaze falling to the table. “It wasn’t his fault.”

Roar scowled. “Really, Perry? You think I’d hurt her? On purpose?”

“You’re out to hurt at least a few people. I’m sure of that. What I’m trying to figure out is how wide you’re casting the net.”

Roar laughed—a bitter, clipped sound. “You know what’s funny? You, acting so superior. What I did was an accident—what about you? Which one of us spilled his own brother’s blood?”

Anger washed over Perry. Roar was throwing Vale’s death in his face. A low blow—the lowest—and totally unexpected.

“I’m warning you this once,” Perry said. “Don’t think you can say or do anything to me because of who you are. You can’t.”

“Why? Because now you’re Blood Lord? Am I supposed to bow to you, Peregrine? Am I supposed to follow you around like your six loyal hounds?” Roar tipped his chin toward Perry’s chest. “That piece of metal has gone to your head.”

“It better have! I swore an oath. My life belongs to the Tides.”

“You’re hiding behind that oath. You’re hiding here.”

“Just tell me what you want, Roar.”

“Liv is dead! She’s dead.”

“And you think I can bring her back? Is that it?” He couldn’t. He would never see his sister again. Nothing would change that.

“I want you to do something. Shed a damn tear, to start with! Then go after Sable. Cut his throat open. Burn him to ash. Just don’t keep hiding here under this rock.”

“There are four hundred and twelve people under this rock. I’m responsible for every one. We’re running out of food. We’re running out of options. The world outside is burning, and you think I’m hiding?”

Roar’s voice dropped to a growl. “Sable murdered her! He fired a crossbow at Liv from ten paces. He—”

“Stop!” Aria yelled. “Stop, Roar. Don’t tell him this way. Not like this.”

“He put a bolt through your sister’s heart, and then stood there and watched the life pour out of her.”

The instant Perry heard the word crossbow, his body went rigid. He’d known that Sable had killed Liv, but not how. He didn’t want to know. Images of Vale’s death would haunt him for the rest of his life. He didn’t need nightmares of his sister, pierced through the heart by a piece of wood, as well.

Roar shook his head. “I’m done.” He didn’t say it, but with you echoed in the beat of silence that followed.

He made his way out but turned to add, “Keep acting like it didn’t happen, Peregrine. Carry on with your meetings, and your tribe, and everything else, just like I knew you would.”

When he was gone, Perry gripped the chair in front of him. He lowered his gaze to the table, staring at the grain of the wood as he tried to slow his racing pulse. Roar’s temper had brought a fine, charred scent to the chamber. It felt like breathing soot.

In more than ten years of knowing each other, of spending every day together, they’d never fought. Never like this, in earnest. He’d always counted on Roar, and he’d never expected that to change. He had never imagined that with Liv gone, Roar might be lost to him too.

Perry shook his head. He was being stupid. Nothing would sever their friendship.

“I’m sorry, Perry,” Aria said softly. “He’s hurting.”

He swallowed through a tight throat. “I got that.” The words came out sharp. But Liv was his sister. The last of his family, except for Talon. Why was she worrying about Roar?

“I only meant that he isn’t acting like himself. It may seem like it, but he doesn’t want you as an enemy. He needs you more than ever.”

“He’s my best friend,” he said, lifting his gaze to her. “I know what he needs.”

Aside from Liv and Perry—and now Aria—Roar had only ever loved one other person: his grandmother. When she’d died years ago, he’d stormed around the compound for a month before settling down.

Maybe that was what Roar needed. Time.

A lot of it.

“You don’t know what it was like, Perry. What he went through in Rim, and afterward.”

Perry went still, blinking at her in disbelief. He couldn’t stand to hear that right now. “You’re right,” he said, straightening. “I wasn’t there when Liv died, but I should have been. That was our plan, remember? We were going to go together. As I recall, you and Roar left without me.”

Aria’s gray eyes widened in surprise. “I had to go. You’d have lost the Tides otherwise.”

He needed to leave now. Frustration and anger still roiled inside him. He didn’t want to take that out on her. But he couldn’t stop himself from replying.

“You made that decision on your own. Even if you were right, couldn’t you have told me? Couldn’t you have said something, instead of leaving without a word? You vanished on me, Aria.”

“Perry, I was . . . I didn’t think you . . . I guess we should talk about this.”

He hated to see the small line between her eyebrows, hated to see her hurting because of him. He should have never opened his mouth. “No,” he said. “It’s done. Forget it.”

“Obviously, you haven’t.”

He couldn’t pretend otherwise. The memory of walking into Vale’s room to find her gone still played in his mind. Whenever he left her side, a flicker of fear taunted him, whispering in his ear that she might disappear again—though he knew she wouldn’t. It was an irrational fear, as Marron had said. But when had fear ever been rational?

“It’ll be morning before long,” he said, changing the subject. They had too much else to consider to dwell on the past. “I need to get organized.”

Aria’s eyebrows drew together. “You need to get organized? So you’re going this time?”

Her temper cooled by the second. She thought he was leaving her. That he was getting back at her for leaving him by going without her tomorrow.

“I want us both to go,” he rushed to clarify. “I know you’re hurt, but if you feel well enough, I need you on this mission. You’re as much Dweller as you are Outsider—we’ll be facing both—and you’ve dealt with Hess and Sable.”

There were other reasons. She was clever and tenacious. A strong Aud. Most importantly, he didn’t want to say good-bye to her in the morning. But he didn’t say any of those things. He couldn’t bring himself to open his heart only to have her choose not to be with him once again.

“I’ll go on the mission,” Aria said. “I already planned to. And you’re right. I am hurt. But I’m not afraid to admit it.”

Then she was gone, taking all the air and light in the cavern with her.

5

ARIA

Aria returned to the Dweller cavern.

Work would help her sort through her anger and confusion. It would help her forget the sound of Perry and Roar shouting at each other. Maybe, if she busied herself enough, she’d even get the words You vanished on me, Aria out of her head.

Molly moved amid the sickly bundles that stretched back into the darkness. Some of the Dwellers seemed to be stirring now, and a few of the Tides were helping Molly tend to them. Blond hair in the distance caught her attention. She spotted Brooke carrying a jug of water from one person to another.

Aria knelt by Molly. “What’s she doing here?”

Molly drew a blanket over a young girl. “Ah,” she said, looking up and seeing Brooke. “You two didn’t get off to a good start, did you?”

“No . . . but only one of us is responsible for that.”

Molly pursed her lips. “She knows she treated you poorly, and she’s grateful to you for bringing Clara back. This is her way of showing it.”

Brooke must have felt their attention because she looked over, her blue eyes moving from Aria to Molly. Aria saw no apology in them. No gratitude.

“Interesting way of showing it.”

“She is trying,” Molly said. “And she’s a good girl. She’s just had a tough stretch.”

Aria shook her head. Weren’t they all having a tough stretch?

She settled to work, delivering water and medicines to the Dwellers who had stirred. She knew every one of them, but some better than others. Briefly she spoke with a friend of her mother’s, aching for Lumina, and then checked on Rune, Jupiter, and Caleb. Her friends were still barely conscious, but just being near them felt good, nourishing a part of her that had been dormant for months.

Gradually, Perry and Roar faded from her thoughts. Even the pain in her arm did. She immersed herself in work until she heard a pair of familiar voices.

“Can I get some water?” Soren asked. He was sitting up and looked healthy enough to get his own water, but the meeting earlier had drained the color from his face.

Brooke knelt and shoved the jug at him.

“Thanks,” Soren said. He took a slow drink, his gaze never leaving Brooke. Then he grinned and handed the water back. “You know, you’re really pretty for a Savage.”

“Three days ago you vomited all over my sleeve, Dweller. That wasn’t pretty.” Brooke stood, moving to the next patient.

Aria fought back a laugh. She remembered that Brooke and Liv had been close friends. How was Brooke coping? Grief simmered right on the surface with Roar. On his face, in his voice. Where was it in Brooke?

For that matter, what about Perry?

She sighed, looking around her. Would she really contribute to the mission tomorrow with her arm the way it was? Did the Dwellers need her to be here for them? The real source of her apprehension, she knew, was Perry.

How were they supposed to get past the hurt she’d caused him when he wouldn’t even discuss it?

The ring of a bell echoed into the cavern.

“Supper,” Molly said.

It didn’t feel like suppertime. Without the sun, it could’ve been morning or noon or midnight. Aria let out another slow breath, rolling back her shoulders. She’d been helping for a few hours.

After Brooke and a few others left, Molly came over. “Not hungry?”

Aria shook her head. “I don’t want anything.” She wasn’t ready to see Perry or Roar again. She’d grown tired. Her arm ached. Her heart ached.

“I’ll have something sent over for you.” Molly patted her shoulder and left.

When Aria went to check on Caleb again, she found him waking. He blinked at her in confusion. His red hair, a few shades deeper than Paisley’s, was matted down with sweat. Fever had left his lips chapped and his eyes glazed.

He took a slow, artist’s perusal of her face. “I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

She knelt beside him. “I am, Caleb. I’m really happy to see you.”

“You look sad.”

“I was a minute ago, but now I’m not. How could I be, now that you’re with me?”

He smiled softly, and then his gaze drifted around the cavern. “This isn’t a Realm, is it?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s not.”

“I didn’t think so. Who would want to come to a Realm like this?”

She sat, resting her hands on her lap. A knot of pain throbbed deep inside her right bicep. “They wouldn’t . . . but it’s all we have.”

Caleb’s gaze came back to her. “I’m sore everywhere. Even my teeth hurt.”

“Do you want something? I can get you medicine or—”

“No . . . just stay.” He gave her a shaky smile. “Seeing you is good. It’s making me feel better. You’ve changed, Aria.”

“Have I?” she asked, though she knew she had. They used to spend afternoons cruising the art Realms. Seeking out the best concerts, the best parties. She barely recognized the girl she used to be.

Caleb nodded. “Yes. You have. When I get better, I’m going to draw you, changed Aria.”

“Let me know when you’re ready. I’ll get you some paper.”

“Real paper?” he asked, brightening. Caleb had only drawn in the Realms.

She smiled. “That’s right. Real paper.”

The spark of excitement left his eyes, his expression turning serious. “Soren told me what happened. About Ag 6 . . . and Paisley. Have you forgiven him?”

Aria glanced toward Soren, who had fallen asleep nearby. She nodded. “I had to, to get you out. And Soren has DLS—a disease that makes him volatile. But he’s on medications to control it now.”

“Are we sure they work?” Caleb said, with a weak smile.

Aria smiled. If he was making jokes, he couldn’t feel that terrible.

“He wasn’t the reason Pais died,” Caleb said. “It was the fire that got her that night. Not him. He was crying when he told me that. I never thought I’d see Soren cry. I think . . . I think he blames himself. I think he stayed and helped us get out of Reverie because of that night.”

Aria believed it because it was true for her as well. She’d brought Paisley to Ag 6. Because of that night, she’d never again leave someone she loved in need, if she could help it.

Caleb squeezed his eyes shut. “Pain is such a pain, you know? It’s very taxing.”

She knew. Aria lay down, settling in beside him, feeling like she’d found part of herself. She saw her past in Caleb. She saw Paisley and the home she’d lost, and she never wanted to forget them.

“Not exactly the Sistine Chapel, is it?” she asked after a while, staring at the jagged shapes that pierced down from the darkness.

“No, it’s rather purgatorial,” Caleb said. “But if we squint really, really hard, we could imagine it otherwise.”

She pointed with her good hand. “That big one there looks like a fang.”

“Mm-hmm. It does.” Beside her, Caleb scrunched his face. “Over there. That one looks like a . . . like a fang.”

“And just to the left? Fang.”

“Wrong. That is clearly an incisor. Wait, no . . . it’s a fang.”

“I’ve missed you, Caleb.”

“I’ve mega missed you.” He peered at her. “I think we all knew it was going to come to this. Everything started to change after that night. You could feel it. . . . But you’re going to get us out of here, right?”

She stared into his eyes, finally clear about where she was needed. She’d do more good on the mission than she would here, regardless of her arm or any lingering tension between her and Perry.

“Yes,” she said. “I am.” She told him about Hess and Sable, and about the mission she’d be part of in the morning.

“So you’re leaving again,” Caleb said when she’d finished. “I guess I’m all right with that.” He yawned and rubbed his left eye, where his Smarteye would have been, then smiled tiredly at her. “The Outsider you were with when we left Reverie—is he the reason you were sad?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “What happened was my mistake, mostly. A few weeks ago, I was trying to protect him, and . . . I ended up hurting him instead.”

“Tricky, but I have an idea. When I fall asleep, go find him and apologize.” He winked at her. “Mostly.”

Aria smiled. She liked that idea a lot.

6

PEREGRINE

Have you chosen your team?” Reef dropped more kindling onto the fire, coaxing the flames to life. “Who are you taking tomorrow?”

Perry rubbed his jaw, watching as the rising firelight brought his friends out of the darkness. The rest of the Six emerged. Molly and Marron, too.

It was late—hours after supper—but he had chosen fresh air over sleep. They followed him outside, one and then two and then eight of them, settling in a circle on the small beach. His closest friends, except Roar and Aria.

Now he saw Reef’s question in all of their eyes. Perry had considered the team he’d take for tomorrow’s mission, and he was sure about his choices, but he expected them to raise some debate.

“Everything here will be fine while you’re away,” Marron said, picking up on his hesitation. “No need to worry.”

“I know,” Perry said. “I know it will be.”

Before he left, he would give the Blood Lord chain around his neck to Marron, entrusting the Tides to his care once again. No one was better suited to look after them.

Perry leaned back, his gaze moving south to a knot of Aether—a storm heading their way. The red flares were mesmerizing. They could have been beautiful.

Looking at Reef, he forced himself to say what needed saying. “You’re staying here.” He found the rest of the Six. “All of you are.”

“Why?” Straggler said, straightening. He was still shorter than Hyde and Hayden, who slouched at his sides. “Did we do something wrong?”

“Shut up, Strag,” Gren called across the fire.

“You shut up,” Straggler shot back. “Perry, no one would fight harder for you than us. Who could be better?”

Hyde smacked his brother on the head. “Be quiet, you idiot. Sorry, Per. Go on. . . . Where did we fail you?”

“You didn’t, but this isn’t a straight fight. We won’t stand a chance if we try to meet Sable and Hess head-on.”

“Then who are you taking?” Strag asked.

Here goes, Perry thought. “Roar,” he said.

Silence fell over the group, amplifying the snap of the fire and the crash of the waves.

Marron spoke first. “Peregrine, I don’t think that’s a good idea, considering the way the two of you have been since he came back. Not to mention the loss you’ve both suffered.”

Perry had never understood that phrase not to mention. It was mentioned. Liv was suddenly there, in the cool ocean air. In the tumbling waves. In the monster waking inside his mind and clawing at the walls of his skull.

He dug his fingers into the sand, squeezing until his knuckles ached. “Roar is the right man for it.”

Silent and lethal, Roar was the closest thing he had to an assassin. He also had the fine, perfect features of a Dweller. He could pass for an Outsider or a Mole, which made him versatile—a good thing, as they’d form a plan of attack once they could assess the Komodo more closely.

“Who else?” asked Reef tightly.

“Brooke.”

Gren’s mouth fell open and Twig made a choking sound, which he camouflaged by clearing his throat. No secrets here; they all knew Perry’s history with Brooke.

As far as appearances went, Brooke had the same advantage as Roar. Men nodded yes first and listened second when she spoke, and that might prove useful. She was as strong a Seer as the brothers, a better shot, and levelheaded in tough situations. A few weeks ago, when the Tide compound had been raided, she hadn’t made a single misstep. They’d been through some bumps, but Perry needed her.

“And Aria?” Marron asked, his voice rising at the end.

“Yes.”

He didn’t miss the stunned looks traded across the flames. Everyone knew she was injured. Everyone knew they’d fought. Or argued. Or whatever that had been. The Battle Room had lived up to its name today.

“I’m taking Soren, too,” he said, forging ahead. “He’s the only one who can fly the Hover. He’s the only one who can get us there quickly. You said we might only have days, Marron. I can’t waste time traveling to the Komodo on foot or horseback.”

Perry saw no way around it. He needed speed. He needed the Hover. As much as he wished otherwise, that meant he needed Soren.

“Just so I don’t mistake you,” said Reef, “these are the people you’re taking with you? You believe this group—the five of you—will come together as a team?”

“That’s right,” Perry said.

“You’re betting our lives on that?” Reef pressed.

Perry nodded. “Sable and Hess have all the brute power. Force won’t work against them. We need to be small and sharp. We’ll have to pierce like a needle to have any chance.”

Quiet settled over the group again, a few anxious glances turning south. Perry listened to the surf as their tempers drifted toward him, carrying disbelief and anxiousness and outrage.

The silent roar of the Tides.

When Perry stepped into his tent, he found Talon still awake.

“What are you doing up, Squeak?” he asked, setting his bow and quiver against the trunks. It had to be well past midnight.

Talon sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I had a nightmare.”

“Hate those.” Perry unbuckled his belt and dropped it aside. “What are you waiting for?” he said, climbing into bed. “Get on over here.”

Talon scrambled to his side. He thrashed around, his knobby knees banging into Perry’s ribs for a few minutes before he finally settled down.

“I miss our house,” he said. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Perry said, staring up at the canvas above him. More than anything, he missed the gap in the loft’s timbers. For years he’d been too tall to stretch out fully in that loft, but he hadn’t cared. He’d loved falling asleep with his eyes on a little piece of the sky.

He bumped Talon’s arm playfully. “This isn’t so bad though, is it? You and Willow don’t seem to mind it.”

Talon shrugged. “Yeah. It’s not bad. Willow said that Molly said that you’re leaving tomorrow to get Cinder. Why do you have to go, Uncle Perry?”

There it was. The real reason Talon couldn’t sleep.

“Because Cinder needs me, just like you did when you were in Reverie. And I need a few things from the Dwellers that’ll help us get to the Still Blue.”

“If you don’t come back, I’ll be alone.”

“I’m coming back, Talon.”

“My dad’s gone. My mom and Aunt Liv—”

“Hey.” Perry propped himself on an elbow so he could look at his nephew’s face. He searched for a little of himself or Liv, but all he saw—from Talon’s serious green eyes to his dark curls—was Vale. He couldn’t fault Talon for being afraid. But there was no way he’d fail his nephew. “I’m coming back. All right?”

Talon nodded, the gesture a little dismissive.

“Do you know what happened between me and your father?” The words came out before Perry could stop them. They hadn’t spoken about Vale yet. About how Vale had sold Talon, his own son, to the Dwellers for food. Brooke’s sister, Clara, too. Unforgivable. But then Perry had killed Vale—also unforgivable. He knew that act would haunt him forever.

Talon lifted his small shoulders. “I was sick. He sent me to the Dwellers to get better. When I was, you came to get me back.”

Perry studied his nephew. Talon knew more than he was letting on. Maybe he was saying what Perry wanted to hear, or maybe he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. Either way, Perry wasn’t going to push. It wouldn’t get him anywhere. Talon didn’t just look like Vale. He was as hardheaded and tight-lipped too.

Perry lay back down, resting his head on his arm, and flashed on his argument with Aria. Maybe he did have something in common with his nephew after all.

“You think there are places to fish in the Still Blue?” Talon asked.

“Sure. I bet there’s lots of places to fish.”

“Good, because Willow and I found some night crawlers today. Eleven of them. Huge ones. I have them in a jar.”

Perry tried his best to focus as Talon prattled on about bait, but his eyes grew heavy. He’d just closed them when he heard the shift of canvas.

Aria stepped into the tent and froze, squinting to see them in the darkness.

“We’re here,” Perry said. It was the only thing that came to mind. He hadn’t expected her, but a wave of relief swept through him at the sight of her.

“Hi, Aria,” Talon said, all chirky and bright.

“Hi, Talon.” She bit her lip, glancing at the tent flap behind her. “I just came to . . . I was going to . . . I guess I’ll see you later?” Her voice rose at the end, like a question.

Perry didn’t know what to do. Talon lay curled at his side—Aria’s spot for the past few nights. He couldn’t send his nephew away, but he didn’t want her to leave, either.

“You don’t have to go,” Talon said. He hopped over Perry, to his right side. “There’s room.”

“Great,” Aria said, and slid in on Perry’s other side.

For a long second, Perry couldn’t believe she was right next to him. Then he became intensely aware of everything about her. The weight of her arm resting on his chest. The chill her clothes held from the cave. The violet scent he loved.

“You’re quiet,” she said.

Talon giggled. “Because he likes you. Don’t you, Uncle Squawk?”

“I do.” Perry peered down and found Aria looking at him. She smiled, but concern shadowed her eyes. “Did you know that?”

“Even though I vanished?” she asked, using his word from earlier.

“Yes. Of course . . . I’ll always . . . like you, Aria.” He grinned, because he sounded like a fool. He loved her—down to his soul—and he was going to tell her sometime. But not with Talon’s knee digging into his kidney.

Aria smiled. “I’ll always like you too.”

The way she said it, the way her temper opened up, he knew she’d read his mind and felt the same way. Her lips were close. He pressed a kiss to them, though he wanted more, everything she’d give him.

That sent Talon over the edge. He lost it, his torrential giggles infectious, pulling them all in.

A full hour passed before the tent fell quiet again. Perry was covered in legs and arms and blankets, so hot that sweat dampened his shirt. The shoulder he’d dislocated a month ago ached beneath the weight of Aria’s head, and Talon was snoring right into his ear, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good.

Being with the two of them reminded him of the first time he ever shot a bow. Like he had discovered something that was new, but that already fit him perfectly.

He stayed awake as long as he could, savoring it. Then he closed his eyes and surrendered to sleep.

7

ARIA

Hovers.

They weren’t her favorite things in the world.

Aria stared up at the Belswan, taking in its liquid shape. Eighty feet from nose to tail, the cargo craft still managed to look sleek. The exterior was smooth and opalescent, like blue pearl, the coloration lightening gradually toward the front, like the tip of the craft had faded in the sun, exposing the transparent glass beneath. The tip, of course, was the cockpit.

“Perfection,” Caleb said reverently. He was still weak, but he’d insisted on coming outside to see her off. They stood on the bluff above the cave as Aria waited to leave on the mission. “Flawless design and craftsmanship. It’s like Gaudí created a modern ship.”

Aria shook her head. “It is beautiful.” But that didn’t mean she liked it. Only a week ago, she’d stood in the cockpit of this very craft watching Reverie collapse before her eyes. Months earlier, she had been thrown from a Hover onto the hard desert outside Reverie and left to die.

This time would be better. How could it not be?

“Where is everyone?” she asked, scanning the small crowd around her.

A few of the Tides had come to send them off. Willow stood with her grandfather, Old Will, while Flea trotted around, sniffing busily. Reef and a couple of the Six were there, along with others she didn’t know, but so far she was the only member of the team to show.

Despite having slept against Perry all night, she still felt their argument weighing on her. He wouldn’t talk about how she’d hurt him, and he wouldn’t talk about Roar or Liv.

It felt like a lot. A lot to go unsaid.

“They’re just a little tardy,” said Caleb. “They’ll be here.”

“They’d better hurry.”

With a thick layer of fog cloaking the coast, she couldn’t see the red flares that had everyone worried, but she heard the storm they’d been anticipating. The distant shriek of the funnels sent a shiver through her.

Five miles away, she guessed. They needed to leave soon.

“See?” Caleb said. “Here comes Soren . . . and Jupiter?”

Soren crested the switchback path that climbed up from the beach, his closest friend at his side. Jupiter walked with an amble that matched his leisurely personality. Today he appeared mellower than usual, having just emerged from days of fever. Like Soren, he carried a bag over his shoulder.

“What is this?” Reef grumbled. “Someone explain to me why there’s another one of them now?”

Aria felt Caleb tense at her side. He was one of “them” too.

Soren stopped in front of Reef and lifted his chin. “This is our second-in-command, Jupiter,” he said importantly.

Jupiter flipped his shaggy hair out of his eyes. It felt strange to see him outside the Realms. Even stranger to see him without drums and his bandmates. “Hey, Aria and Caleb. And, uh . . . hello, Outsiders.”

“No,” Reef said. “Not hello. You can leave, Dweller. You’re not part of the team.”

Jupiter’s eyes went wide, but Soren held his ground.

He crossed his arms. “If Jupiter goes, I go.”

“Done,” said Reef. “Good-bye to you both.”

“Can any of you fly a Hover?” Soren asked, looking around him. “I didn’t think so. We can. Isn’t that what we need? A way out of here? And I want equal representation on this pathetic team.”

“Equal?” Reef said. “There are forty Dwellers in that cave. You are one tenth our count.”

“We speak technology, which makes our tenth a hundred times more valuable.”

A few paces away, Twig turned to Gren. “So are they more valuable or are we?”

“I don’t know,” Gren answered. “I’m lost.”

“Get in there, Jupiter,” Aria said, gesturing to the Belswan.

A dozen heads whipped to look at her. No one stared more intently than Reef.

“Soren has a point,” she said. “It’s smart to bring someone else who can fly the Hover. We should have an alternate pilot in case something incapacitates him during the mission.”

Soren’s expression went from smug to shocked as he realized what she’d said.

Reef’s face underwent the same transformation, in reverse. He broke into a wide grin, tipping his head at her in a gesture of respect.

“Don’t just stand there,” he said to Soren and Jupiter. “Your first-in-command just gave an order. Load up.”

Aria hugged Caleb, promising she’d see him soon, and boarded with them.

The bay doors opened to the cargo hold, a wide, bare space that stretched across the middle of the Hover. She moved to the cockpit at the front with Soren and Jupiter, who dropped into the two seats and immediately began to argue about which button controlled what.

It didn’t inspire confidence.

Leaning against the threshold, she watched them while keeping her ears tuned for Perry and Roar.

She wasn’t worried about bringing Jupiter. He was harmless, and she liked the idea of having another Dweller on the team. The more they could integrate, the better. But Soren was another matter.

Could she trust him? He had come through for her with Talon. But then he’d also attacked her in Ag 6. And she’d trusted his father, Hess, and look where that had gotten her. Then there was Soren’s attitude and his history with Perry. The only thing he really contributed were his piloting skills, and those were shaky.

Soren sensed her watching him and broke off with Jupiter. “What?”

“Are you ready?” she asked.

His lip curled up—a dead giveaway that he was nervous. “What kind of question is that? Is there a way to prepare for this that I’m unaware of?”

“You’ll do fine. You’ve flown it already. Just don’t crash.”

She caught him by surprise. His smirk softened into a more natural smile. “I’ll try not to.”

Aria heard Perry walk up behind her. His hand settled on the small of her back.

“Get this ship moving, Soren,” he said, over her shoulder. “Put us ahead of that storm.”

Through the windshield she saw that the fog had begun to burn off, revealing a patch of sky to the south. There, the Aether wheeled in spirals, a sight both terrifying and familiar. The red flares were brighter than she’d expected, shocking as fresh blood. Seeing them stole her breath away.

“I was just waiting for you to show up, Outsider,” Soren said.

Perry had already left, heading back into the cargo hold, leaving a fading warmth where his hand had rested.

Soren’s mouth pulled into a sneer. “Aria, please explain to me how you can—”

“I’m not explaining anything to you, Soren,” she said, and left.

She knew what he was going to say. Perry had shattered Soren’s jaw that night in Ag 6. She knew he found the idea of her and Perry together repulsive.

At the far end of the cargo hold, she saw Perry duck through the door that opened into a stowage room. Earlier, when she’d first arrived on the bluff with Caleb, she had left her things in the supply lockers back there. She’d found food, medicine, and camping supplies, along with a small kitchen. Most importantly, the room stored their weapons.

An entire wall of lockers contained pistols, stun guns, bulkier weapons she suspected were for long-range, and other arms used by Guardians. Perry’s and Brooke’s bows would be added as well, along with a few full quivers.

A packed arsenal, but it didn’t feel like enough. Together, Sable and Hess had at least eight hundred people. She’d seen Hess’s forces as he’d fled Reverie. He’d taken all the Guardians, choosing soldiers over regular civilians. But Sable worried her even more. Maybe he didn’t have the technological prowess Hess had, but he was cunning and completely ruthless.

They were facing the most capable fighters from both worlds. To succeed, they’d need much more than the weapons stored in the back.

The engine thrummed to life, startling her. She pulled one of the jump seats down from the wall and sat, drawing the thick harness straps over her shoulders.

Brooke came in from outside, followed by Roar. Aria heard them walk up the ramp and into the hold, but she didn’t look up. With only one hand, snapping the heavy closure of the harness was impossible. She fumbled with it, trying not to scream.

Roar knelt in front of her. “Do you really need help or are you just trying to get my attention?”

“Very funny.”

He buckled the harness, hands quick and sure; then he looked up, staring at her thoughtfully.

His eyes were bloodshot, and fine dark stubble covered his cheeks. It wasn’t him. Unlike Perry, Roar didn’t like scruff. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. Like he’d never sleep again. The sorrow in his eyes seemed to go on forever.

“It’ll heal, Ladybug,” he said.

Roar was always giving her nicknames. Ladybug had come just over a week ago. They had been on a boat together, moving down the Snake River, when the ship’s captain had called her that. With this memory came others that made her stomach clench. Roar with tears running down his face. Roar unspeaking, buried under thick layers of grief.

He was speaking now. He was a dark, shifting force.

Would he ever heal?

Aria rested her hand on his, wanting to say something that would help. Wanting him to know that she loved him and was sorry about the tension between him and Perry.

Roar’s mouth lifted, a flicker of a smile that didn’t reach his dark eyes. “Got it,” he said.

He had listened to her thoughts and heard everything.

Her gaze moved over his shoulder. Perry stood by the entrance to the cockpit watching them, his expression unreadable. Roar turned and they froze, locked in a hard stare that had no place between friends.

A prickling feeling crawled up Aria’s spine. Somehow she felt like a barrier between them, and that was the last thing she ever wanted to be.

Buckled in the seat on the opposite wall, Brooke watched Perry watch Roar. The cargo doors closed with silent finality, and the sound of Soren and Jupiter’s bickering over the Hover’s controls grew louder, breaking the quiet spell that had trapped them.

Roar moved to the cockpit to guide them back to where he’d seen the Komodo. Perry followed, watchful and focused.

Soren lifted the Belswan off the ground with a stomach-dropping lurch.

Across the cargo hold, Brooke scowled. “I thought he could fly this thing.”

“He can fly it,” Aria said. “Landing is the problem.”

Brooke gave her an appraising look. Aria met it evenly, trying not to wonder what Perry had seen in her. What he’d acted like with her. She had no reason to be envious. She didn’t want to be.

“Roar said you met Liv,” Brooke said.

Aria nodded. “I knew her only for a few days, but . . . I liked her. Very much.”

“She was my best friend.” Brooke glanced toward the cockpit. “We were like them.”

Perry and Roar stood inside, leaning against either side of the access opening. From her angle, she could only see half of each of them, and the open space between.

They were so different, inside and out, but they stood exactly the same way. Arms crossed. Ankles crossed. Their posture somehow both relaxed and alert. It was as close as they’d come to each other since Roar’s return.

“Like how they used to be,” Brooke amended.

“Has this ever happened before?”

“Never. And I hate it.”

Incredible. They actually agreed on something.

Aria rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes. The Hover hummed along, and the journey had turned smooth, but she knew it wouldn’t last.

A team, Reef had called them earlier. But they weren’t. Not even close.

They were six people with at least a dozen different agendas between them.

It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter.

They needed to rescue Cinder. They needed a heading, and they needed Hovers to reach the Still Blue.

Her eyes fluttered open, finding Roar.

They needed revenge.

8

PEREGRINE

Soren set the Belswan down in a clearing with a distance of about ten miles between them and the Komodo. They decided to hike to a vantage point and observe from a safe distance.

Perry asked Roar to watch over the Belswan. Someone needed to guard it, and Perry needed Brooke for her eyes.

Roar agreed with a shrug, and Jupiter offered to stay as well. Perry waited outside, hoping Soren would stay too, but he emerged from the Belswan, jogging down the ramp behind Aria and Brooke.

Soren still wore his pale gray Dweller clothes, which would make him stand out like a whale in the woods, and he had a forty-pound pack taken from the supply room slung over his back.

Perry shook his head. “We’ll be back by tonight. You know that, right?”

Soren shot him a seething look and marched on.

They climbed to a cluster of stone outcroppings at the top of a hill. The spot would give them plenty of cover. Most importantly, it offered a clear view of the valley. The Komodo itself lay hidden behind a small slope in the distance. Hess and Sable would surely have sentinels posted along that ridge, and possibly also a patrol.

Perry sat beside Aria on the same rock, settling in to watch. They planned to assess their options from afar before moving closer.

They’d left the Aether storm behind at the coast, and the Aether flowed more calmly here, rolling in waves instead of turning in whirlpools. He didn’t see the red sparks, but he had a feeling he would soon. Thick clouds drifted across the sky, casting wide shadowed patches across the plateau, and he smelled rain coming.

“What was it your father used to say about patience?” Aria said after a little while.

Perry smiled. “It’s a hunter’s best weapon,” he said, happy she remembered something he’d told her months ago. But her temper was low and cool, at odds with her lighthearted comment.

“You all right?” he asked.

She hesitated, the shadowed look in her eyes reminding him of their argument. “I’m fine,” she said, a little too brightly. She tipped her head. “But Soren might need some help.”

Perry saw him and laughed. Soren had gutted his bag, emptying all its contents. Supplies spilled everywhere around him, and he was looking through a pair of binoculars, searching the distance.

“Perry, due east,” Brooke called from behind them.

He searched the low hills there. A Hover like the one that had taken Talon skimmed over the plateau.

Soren shot to his feet in excitement. “That’s a Dragonwing. Fastest Hover in existence.”

“It’s circling,” Brooke said. “It’s following a specific route around the Komodo.”

“A patrol,” Perry agreed.

They kept up their surveillance into the afternoon as massive thunderheads moved in, clotting the sky. The patrol followed the same route every two hours. Armed with that information, they returned to the Belswan and gathered in the cargo hold to discuss their options.

“We can’t outrun a Dragonwing,” Soren said. He rapped his knuckles twice on the metal floor of the Belswan. “Not with this slug.”

At the center of their circle was a light stick from the Belswan’s supplies. Perry turned the dial down to limit its brightness. In less than five minutes, the glaring light had given him a headache.

“A Dragonwing is built to do two things,” Soren continued. “One, catch anything it wants, and two, destroy it. If they’re running patrols, then they’re ready for us. At the very least it means they haven’t forgotten we’re out here. There’s no way we can get close without drawing them into a fight. If that happens, we’re done for. We’d be annihilated. Wouldn’t we, Jup?”

Jupiter startled, surprised to hear his name. Then he nodded. “Definitely. Very annihilated.”

“Twig and I got close,” Roar said. He stood away from the group, alone by the open bay doors, his dark clothes blending into the darkness. “It’s not hard to do on foot.”

A gust of cool air blew into the Hover. It smelled more like rain by the hour.

“You want to go on foot?” Soren said. “All right, we could try that. We could run up and throw spears at the Komodo’s steel walls. Wait. Do you guys have any of those catapult things? Those are champ.”

Roar shrugged—he couldn’t care less about Soren’s comment—but Aria winced.

Perry remembered her making similar biting comments when they’d first met. That felt like a long while ago, though it’d only been half a year.

“What do you recommend, Soren?” he said tightly. He had far less tolerance for Soren than Aria did.

“I recommend we get a Hover. There’s no way we’re breaking into the Komodo without one. And I mean a Dragonwing, not this flying heap. But I hate to break the news to all of you: there’s no way we’re getting one.”

“There are a bunch of Dragonwings outside the Komodo, aren’t there?” Brooke said. “We could divide up. Some of us could distract the patrol and give the rest of you a chance to get close to the fleet on foot.”

Soren snorted. “You can’t just walk up and take a Hovercraft. And a distraction would never work. Any disturbance on a routine patrol would get reported back to the command leader at the Komodo. If you create a diversion, you’re basically putting everyone on high alert.”

“What if we contact them first?” Aria said.

“And say what? Our feelings were hurt when you tried to kill us?”

Perry leaned forward, forcing himself to ignore Soren. “What are you thinking?” he asked Aria.

“That we’re approaching this the wrong way,” she said. “We have to get way ahead of them.” She looked at Soren. “Can you hack into their communications from this ship?”

“Honestly, Aria, sometimes I feel like you don’t even know me.”

“Answer,” Perry snapped.

“Yes. I can.” Soren looked at her. “For the last time, hopefully: I can hack anything.”

Aria smiled. “Perfect.”

9

ARIA

Her plan was this: they would transmit a false message to the Dragonwing, sending the patrol on a mission to assist a downed Belswan—which they would pretend to be.

If the order came from a Dweller commander, Aria reasoned, the pilots would have no reason to check it. When the patrol unit came to assist, they’d walk into an ambush. Aria and Perry would have their team waiting, ready to overpower the crew. They’d take over the patrol ship and then return to the Komodo disguised as the regular team.

It was the same way she’d entered Bliss when she’d been searching for her mother. She’d put on a Guardian uniform and walked right in.

Why fight the enemy when you could fool them?

“I like it,” Roar said, when she’d finished explaining. “It’s a damn good plan.”

Aria caught his eye and smiled in thanks.

“It would get us close,” Perry said, nodding. “Closer than any other option we have.”

Aria looked at Soren, who stared into space, lost in thought. She wondered what he thought of the plan most of all.

“It all depends on you,” she said. “The only way it’ll work is if you break into the Komodo’s communications system.”

Soren looked at her and nodded. “I can do it. No problem.”

She never doubted it. For all the trouble he was, Soren had one skill she could always count on. In a way, it was what had started everything.

Soren stood. The glazed look in his eyes was gone, replaced with fevered anticipation of the challenge. “I’m going to run a basic vulnerability analysis to get a look at the Komodo’s attack surface.”

Aria had no clue what that meant. Judging by the blank faces around her, she wasn’t alone.

Soren rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers in the air. “You know. Feel the security system up a little to see what I’m dealing with.”

A laugh burst out of Jupiter, but he muffled it when Perry stood.

“Uh, sorry,” Jupiter said.

She’d forgotten how commanding Perry could be. How he could quiet people with a look when he chose to.

“Get to work, Soren,” he said, and then turned to Brooke and Roar. “Let’s start outside. I want a full sweep of the terrain. If we’re going to draw them to us, I want to be in the strongest position possible.”

Brooke looked at Soren and wiggled her fingers in the air, parroting his gesture. “That means we’re going to feel up the surrounding area a little, Dweller. See what we’re dealing with.”

Soren’s eyes never left Brooke as she grabbed her bow and headed outside with Perry and Roar.

“What was her name again?” he asked when she was gone.

Aria stood, trying to hide a smile. “Laurel,” she answered on a whim. Soren irritated everyone else. Let him be on the receiving end for once. Inspired, she added, “I think she likes you, Soren.”

Then she jogged outside.

Perry was buckling a black belt with a Dweller pistol in the holster. He seemed comfortable with carrying the weapon, though he’d held it for the first time only a week ago. His bow and quiver also rested at his feet. Aria smiled to herself. Instead of choosing a weapon from her world or his, he’d decided to take both.

“Do you need me?” she said. She could scout as well as Roar and Brooke, who had already disappeared into the darkness.

Perry looked up. His hair was tied back with a leather strip, but a piece fell forward, a blond wave coming to rest at his eyebrow. “You want the truth?”

Aria braced herself for a comment about her arm. “Always.”

“That’s my answer. But it’s probably better for you to keep an eye on things here.” He grinned, sweeping his bow and quiver over his shoulder. “I’d do it, but I’m worried my fist might find Soren’s face.”

As she watched him walk away, she tried to shake off the feeling that he’d left too quickly. He’d just said he needed her always. Why couldn’t she focus on that?

When he reached the edge of the woods, she called out, “Be careful.”

She knew he would be. It was just a way to stall. To feel close to him a little longer.

He looked back, still walking, and pressed a hand to his heart.

In the cockpit, Soren had put on his Smarteye.

“I brought it out of Reverie,” he said. “Thought it might come in handy.”

She leaned against the threshold and pursed her lips, disliking his choice of words. If something handy was useful, what did that mean for her, with her lame hand?

Soren mistook her expression, thinking she objected to his use of the Smarteye. “I don’t need it or anything. But I can work ten times faster with it.”

“I know,” she said, dropping into the other seat. “It’s fine. Use whatever you have to.”

Aria watched him for a while. Soren alternated between periods of inward focus when he was working through the Smarteye and bursts of frantic swiping at the commands on the Belswan’s controls. He was completely different when he had a task in front of him, a puzzle to solve.

She stared through the windshield at the trees tossing back and forth as anxiety began to build inside her. There were dangers in those woods. Bands of violent drifters. Aether storms that struck suddenly. She couldn’t get the image of Perry with his hand over his heart out of her mind.

Restless, she left the cockpit and rummaged in the rear storage room for field meals—prepackaged rations. Aria took spaghetti for herself and Jupiter, and tossed a meat loaf pack to Soren.

Then she sat at the top of the ramp, where she’d be able to see Perry, Roar, and Brooke when they returned. The trees swayed and creaked as the wind rose.

“These woods look so strange,” Jupiter said, joining her.

“That’s because they’re real.”

Jupiter flicked his head to the side, tossed his shaggy hair out of his face. “Right . . . that makes sense.”

As they fell into silence, she found herself straining to see into the darkened woods. Why hadn’t they come back yet?

She ate slowly, though her stomach rumbled. The pain in her arm had intensified, leaving her a little nauseous, and eating with her left hand took longer. The food, which only tasted slightly better than dirt, didn’t help matters.

Jupiter finished before she did and found two twigs to use as drumsticks. “So, are you still singing?” he asked as he tapped a rhythm against the ramp.

“Not very much. I’ve been a little preoccupied.”

Aria recognized the beat of the song “Winged Hearts Collide”—Roar’s favorite by the Tilted Green Bottles—but she had no urge to sing. The metallic clatter rattled in her ears. She felt like those twigs were banging against her brain, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about Roar and worrying about him.

“That’s too bad. Your voice is the best.”

“Thanks, Jup.”

Jupiter broke rhythm, pausing to rub his eye as though looking for the Smarteye that was no longer there. “You think Rune is all right? Caleb and the rest of everyone?”

She nodded, thinking of Molly. “They’re in good hands.”

Aria heard herself and winced. Was every stupid expression about stupid hands?

“You know, Beethoven?” Jupiter said. “He was deaf—mostly deaf or something—and he had to hear through percussion and conductivity and stuff. I just keep thinking about him, you know? If he was able to do that, then I should be able to figure this out.”

“Figure what out?”

“Not having the Realms anymore. I keep trying to fraction. I keep thinking my Smarteye is malfunctioning, and it’s kind of like I’ve gone deaf. Like there’s this huge missing piece. Then I remember this is all we have. Real is all that’s left.”

“It’ll get easier.”

Jupiter stopped drumming. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to complain or sound ungrateful or anything.”

“Ungrateful?”

“You saved my life.”

“You didn’t sound ungrateful. And you don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to act a certain way.”

Anxiety bled through her words. She’d meant to reassure him, but it sounded like she was scolding him. She looked down, hiding her grimace, and caught movement at the edge of her vision.

The fingers of her injured hand were twitching. She’d had no idea.

She tried to make a fist, hoping this meant she was healing. Instead of her fingers curling, they stopped moving. Her hand wasn’t even part of her.

Tears blurred her vision, and she didn’t think.

She jumped up and ran down the ramp, plunging into the night.

10

PEREGRINE

Perry had almost reached the Belswan when he spotted Aria running toward him.

In an instant he had his bow off his shoulder, an arrow nocked and ready, as he scanned the woods for an attack. For fire. Dwellers. Anything.

“What is it?” he asked as she ran up.

“I don’t know,” she said, breathless, her pupils dilated, her temper frantic. She held her arm against her stomach. “Nothing.”

Her gaze darted past the trees. Over the rocky ground. Everywhere except at him.

Perry pulled his bow back over his shoulder and slipped the arrow back into his quiver. He let out his breath, his fear seeping out of him. “What’s going on?”

She shook her head. “I said nothing. Just forget it.”

“You’re not telling me the truth.”

Her eyes snapped up. “Maybe not, Perry, but what about you? You won’t talk about Liv. You won’t talk about Roar or about us. You say what happened in the past doesn’t matter, but it does to me. By not talking, you’re keeping yourself from me. How is that any worse than lying?”

He nodded, finally understanding. He could fix this. They could.

She blinked at him, shocked. “Are you . . . are you smiling?”

Her eyes began to fill, so he hurried to explain. “I’m smiling because I’m relieved, Aria. A minute ago I thought your life was in danger, but you’re safe. You’re right here, and we’re together. That feels a lot better than me worrying about you, or missing you because you’re hundreds of miles away.”

“Just because we’re together doesn’t mean everything is fine.”

He couldn’t agree with that. Being with her was all he needed. They’d work out all the rest. But he saw that it was different for her. “Then tell me how to make it right. That’s all I want to do.”

“You have to talk to me. We have to tell each other the little things, the bad things. Maybe they’ll hurt for a while, but at least they won’t become big things. If we don’t, we’re just going to keep hurting each other. And I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“All right. I swear to you, from now on I’ll talk. You’ll get tired of hearing my voice. But I think you should be the one to start.” He wasn’t the one with tears in his eyes.

“Right now?”

“Brooke and Roar aren’t back yet. We have some time.”

Aria shook her head. “I don’t know where to start. It was one thing at first, but now it feels like everything.” The wind swelled, blowing her hair into her face. She pushed it away. “We haven’t fixed anything, Perry. Reverie is gone. We had to leave all those people behind, and you had to leave your house, and I liked that house. I wanted to sleep with you in the loft and watch the Aether through the crack in the roof—how you told me you loved to do? We never had a chance to do that. We won’t ever be able to.”

She lifted her injured hand. “And there’s this. I was just figuring out how to fight; now it doesn’t work. I couldn’t buckle the belt in the Hover. I can’t even tie my hair back.” She tucked the arm to her side again. “Cinder is a prisoner. Liv is gone. Roar is . . . I don’t know . . . I don’t know how to help him. I don’t know what’s happened to the two of you—and then there’s you. I hurt you when I left, and I’m so scared that I damaged us—”

“You didn’t.”

“Then why won’t you talk about it?”

Pressure built inside his chest, quickening his pulse. It was the same trapped feeling he got inside the cave, and it reminded him of how he’d felt when he’d walked into Vale’s room and found her missing. He’d carried that pressure around until the moment she’d come back.

“I want to forget it happened. I need to, Aria. You were poisoned right in front of me. You almost died. For a while there . . . I thought you’d really left me.”

“I left for you, Perry.”

“I know. I know that now. It hurt both of us, but we got through it. And we’re not damaged because of it. We’re stronger.”

“We are?”

“Sure. Look at us. We’re surviving our first fight . . . or second.”

Aria rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a fight and neither was yesterday.”

He smiled. “Now you’re scaring me.”

She laughed. It was a sparkling sound. A burst of brightness in the quiet of the woods. For the first time since he’d seen her running toward him, he relaxed.

Aria still held her hand against her side. He wanted to take it and kiss each one of her fingers, but he didn’t want to chance making her feel worse about her injury.

He stepped around her.

“Perry, what are you—”

He held her shoulders, keeping her from turning. “Trust me.”

He swept her hair behind her shoulders, feeling her tense in surprise. Then he combed it back with his fingers. He loved her hair. Black as onyx, steeped in her violet scent. Heavy as a blanket in his hands.

Reaching up, he tugged off the leather strap he’d used to pull his own knots back earlier, and tied her hair at the base of her neck.

“Is that what you wanted?” he asked.

“It’s, um . . . much better.”

Bending, he kissed the smooth skin just beneath her ear. “How’s this?”

“I don’t know. . . . Try again?”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, gathering her close. Ahead of them, the lights from inside the Hover filtered through the trees—her world, blending with his. “You really want me to talk?”

Aria leaned back, letting him take her weight. “Yes.”

“You’re going to hear a lot about my favorite subject.”

“Hunting?”

He laughed. “No.” He slid his hands to her hips, feeling muscle and solid bone, and then back up, over the curve of her waist. “Not hunting.” Every part of her drove him mad, and he told her so, whispering in her ear as she rested against him.

When she turned sharply to the woods, he knew she’d heard Roar and Brooke. It was time to go back, but he held on, keeping her there just a little longer.

“What brought you out here, Aria?” he asked.

She looked up, right into his eyes. “I needed to find you.”

“I know,” he said. “The second I left you, I felt the same way.”

They returned to the cargo hold to listen to Soren’s assessment.

Perry sat with Aria, Brooke, and Jupiter, while Roar stood off in the shadows again.

Soren planted his feet wide and locked his hands behind his back, letting out a self-important sigh as he scanned their faces. He acted as though he were going to address a crowd of thousands instead of the five of them.

“First, I want to say that it’s a real shame none of you are smart enough to appreciate what I’ve done here. To put it in simplistic terms, which you may or may not comprehend, I essentially hit a bull’s-eye.”

Perry shook his head. Every single thing Soren did chafed him, but Aria seemed unruffled.

“What did you find out?” she asked.

“That I’m unstoppable. And indispen—”

“Soren.”

“Oh, you mean about the plan? We’re all set.”

Aria looked at Perry in surprise. Soren had only been at work for two hours, maximum.

“Let’s run through it,” Perry said.

“It’s ready,” Soren insisted. “Let’s get this going. Every minute we spend sitting here, we’re taking a chance they’ll find us out.”

Perry rubbed his chin, studying Soren. Scenting his temper.

Something didn’t feel right. While still in Reverie, Soren had begun an experimental treatment to control his moods. Supposedly there was no risk of him becoming violent anymore, but anger lurked behind his obnoxious comments. Perry questioned his frame of mind, and his allegiance, even if Aria didn’t.

Had Hess really betrayed Soren—his son? Given Perry’s own experience with Vale, he knew betrayal was possible within families. But maybe there was something more. Was Soren leading them right into the jaws of the enemy? Into a trap?

Roar spoke from the shadows. “I’m with the Dweller.”

Jupiter shrugged. “I am too?”

“Aria and I decide how this goes,” Perry said.

“Why?” Soren barked. “I hacked the system. I’m the one flying this ship. I’m doing everything. What are you doing? Why aren’t you taking orders from me?”

“Because you’re scared,” Perry said. Might as well put it out there now, before they went any further. As a Scire, he seldom manipulated people, poking at the fears revealed through their tempers. But if Soren was going to break, Perry wanted it to happen here, not during their mission. So he pressed again.

“You don’t know what you want. Do you, Dweller? Are you going to turn your back on us the first chance you get? Are you taking us in to impress your father? To get back on his good side?”

Soren went very still, the veins at his neck swelling. “Just because of your weird mutation, don’t think you know what’s in my head. You don’t know anything.”

“I know what side I’m on. I know I can handle pressure.”

Perry’s words hung in a beat of silence. He’d gone right to Soren’s weakness, but it was the truth: Soren’s control was brittle, and Perry had proved it.

Soren cursed and lunged forward. “Stupid Savage! I should have killed you. You should be dead!”

Perry shot to his feet, yanking Aria behind him. Roar drew his blade, but Brooke was closer. She stepped in and pulled an arrow from the quiver at her back.

“Go ahead,” she said, pressing the steel tip into Soren’s chest. “Take another step, Dweller. I’m already tempted.”

Soren’s glare shifted away from Perry. He raked his eyes down Brooke’s body and said, “I’m tempted too. Anytime, Laurel. Just say the word.”

For a long moment, no one moved. Perry knew he wasn’t the only one grasping for some clarity on what had just happened.

Then Brooke said, “Who the hell is Laurel?”

Behind him, Aria let out a chirp of laughter, and suddenly Perry understood.

Roar sheathed his knife, glancing at her. “And you call me wicked.”

A scarlet blush crawled up Soren’s neck. “You’re all crazy,” he growled. “Every one of you!”

Aria slipped past Perry. “I want to see what you set up, Soren. Show us?” She headed into the cockpit, denying him the opportunity to brood or argue by pulling him with her.

Nicely done, Perry thought. She had gotten them exactly what they needed, a run-through of the plan, and it would give Soren a chance to recover his confidence by showing them the work he had done.

“Brooke,” Perry said as the others filed into the cockpit. “Thank you.”

She paused, setting her bow and quiver against the wall. “You’d have done the same for me.”

Perry nodded. “I might have drawn blood, though,” he said.

Brooke’s smile was a quick flash, but genuine. She glanced into the cockpit. “I miss her, Perry . . . don’t you?”

Liv. “Yes,” he said.

Brooke waited for him to say something more. What was there to say? What did she and Roar and Aria want from him? He couldn’t change his sister’s death. If he let himself feel it, the crack that ran through his heart would widen. It would break him, and he couldn’t break. Not here. Not now.

“Do you think it’s easy for me and Roar?” Brooke asked.

“No.” He tipped his chin toward the cockpit. “We should get in there.”

Brooke shook her head, disappointed. “Fine,” she said, and stepped into the cockpit.

Perry didn’t follow her. He leaned against the wall of the Hover, pressing his thumbs to his eyes until he saw red spots instead of Liv with a crossbow bolt in her heart.

They spent the next hours considering every angle of their plan, talking every scenario through as the night wore on. Roar yawned, then Jupiter, and then they were all yawning, fighting sleep. Everyone knew their role, but Aria wanted them to suit up and walk through their parts—a good idea considering Jupiter’s and Soren’s inexperience.

They found Guardian suits inside the storage lockers. Aria and Brooke grabbed theirs and left, taking turns in the cockpit for privacy.

It took Perry ten seconds to figure out that none of the suits would fit him. He swung open another locker, searching for more, and found a large black vinyl bag. He’d just grabbed the handle, noting its heaviness, when Soren spoke at his back.

“That’s an inflatable boat, Outsider. And if that’s what you’re wearing, I’m out of this operation.” He snorted. “Can’t you read? It says so right there in huge letters. ‘Motorized Ship, Small.’”

Perry stuffed the bag back into the locker. It took all his self-control not to rip the metal door off and slam it across Soren’s face.

“Here you go, Perry,” Jupiter said, his mouth lifting in an apologetic smile. He tossed a folded bundle. “Extra large.”

Perry caught it and pulled his shirt off.

Soren made a sputtering sound behind him. “Are those tattoos permanent?” he asked, gaping. His attention shifted to the panther Marking covering Roar’s shoulder. Soren opened his mouth to say something else but reconsidered.

He was scared of Roar, which was wise. Roar could be ruthless and deadly. Perry had seen that side of him plenty of times. Lately, it felt like that was the only side he saw.

Roar looked over at Perry, his gaze cold and dark, though his temper flared crimson.

Normally, Roar would have made a crack about Soren, but things were anything but normal. He shut the locker in front of him and left.

The Guardian uniform felt light and tough as Perry pulled it on, the material cool and faintly reflective. He’d never thought he’d have to dress like a Mole. The men who had taken Talon had worn suits like this, as had the Guardians who’d shot Aria in Reverie. Perry expected to hate the garment for that reason, but he was surprised to find that he liked the way it felt, like he’d donned the protective skin of a snake.

He didn’t miss Aria’s double take as they filed out of the Hover. He grinned, feeling a little self-conscious—and more than a little streaked at himself for caring what she thought when there were more important things to worry about.

Outside, leaves rolled across the clearing in waves, carried on gusts. Rain clouds knitted tightly across the sky, casting the night in a darkness so impenetrable that Brooke and Aria jogged back into the Hover for light sticks.

Though the Aether wasn’t visible, Perry could sense it prickling on his skin. He wondered if the currents were coiling into funnels behind those clouds, and if the red flares had appeared. Would they see a rainstorm and an Aether storm in the morning?

Brooke and Aria returned, and they all took their positions. Soren and Jupiter stayed by the Belswan with Aria. Brooke, Perry, and Roar waited in the woods, ready to surround the Dragonwing as it came to the rescue. When Perry signaled, they moved in and rehearsed how they would overpower the Guardians, down to who would speak and what they’d say.

They spent time coordinating how to take down the Guardians unharmed. A regular Dragonwing crew consisted of four men, trained pilots all, and they’d need every one of them in order to steal Hovers from Sable and Hess.

Four pilots meant four Belswans. Added to the one already in their possession, they would have enough capacity to carry all the Tides to the Still Blue.

“No bloodshed,” Perry said, after they’d run through every detail a few times. “We do this just as planned.”

Agreement all around. Nods from everyone.

They’d done all they could do.

They were ready.

11

ARIA

So . . .” Soren waved a shaky hand at the pilot seat. In his other hand, he gripped the Smarteye tightly. “I’m going to sit so we can get started and everything.”

“Go ahead,” Aria said.

“Thanks.” Soren dropped into the chair, and his leg began to bounce.

Last night during rehearsal, he’d been calm. Everything had been calm. But now, rain pelted the windshield of the cockpit. Outside, in the gray early morning, the trees tossed back and forth and the wind howled through the bay doors.

It wasn’t an Aether storm, but it was enough to make Aria’s stomach buzz with nerves.

“Let’s get this going,” Perry said.

Roar and Brooke had taken their positions outside, waiting for the mission to begin.

They weren’t altering their plan because of the storm. Aria had really never understood rain until she’d come to the outside. In the Realms, it was poetic. Ambience for a night with friends in a mountain cabin. For a day studying in a café. But in the real, it streamed into your eyes and chilled your muscles to the bone. It had a biting side, and they hoped the Guardians who came in the Dragonwing would be thrown off because of it.

“I’m ready,” Soren said. “It’s all set. I did this in Reverie once. Remember, Jup?”

In the other pilot seat, Jupiter sat up, almost straightening out of his usual slouch. “Yeah, I remember. You got us out of history exams that one time.”

Soren’s lip curled. “Right . . . exams.”

Aria wondered if he was thinking what she was: how terribly far they had come from school. From hours in the lounges of Reverie, studying and fractioning in the Realms.

“Once I hack into their system,” Soren said, “I’ll be traceable. I’ll throw every obstacle I can at them, but that’s when the clock starts running.”

He had already told them this. There were three components to the mission. First, a breach of the Komodo’s security system, which he’d handle alone. This would bring the patrol to them, setting up the takeover of the Dragonwing—the second step. Last, disguised as Guardians, they would enter the Komodo itself.

In the worst-case scenario, the security system breach would be discovered while they were inside extracting Cinder, but Soren predicted they would have two hours before that happened. If they followed the plan, they’d have plenty of time.

“We know, Soren,” Aria said. “If we’re going to intercept this patrol, we have to start now.”

He nodded, the color leaving his face. Aria watched his grip on the Smarteye ease. Then he brought the device to his face with visible effort and placed the clear patch over his left eye.

One second passed. Two. Three.

Soren tensed, his fingers digging into the armrests. “I’m in.” He sat up, his shoulders rolling with a small shudder, his knee still bouncing up and down. “Here we go. Where are you? Where am I? Where are you? Where am I?”

Soren’s chant stopped when an image appeared, floating in the air before the front windshield.

It was an avatar of him from the waist up, the image three-dimensional but translucent, the likeness complete down to the thin scar on his chin. Down, even, to an almost exact replica of the clothes he wore—the clothes they all wore: a pale gray Guardian flight suit with blue reflective stripes along the sleeves.

There was no context to the image. No room or cockpit. Soren’s avatar floated in midair like a ghost.

“Oh, come on,” Soren said, running a hand over his head. “My hair looks better than that. The approximation algorithms the military uses are really substandard,” he muttered as he entered a series of commands into the Belswan control panel.

Aria had never seen anyone so focused and manic at the same time. Perry watched in silence, but she wondered what he scented in Soren’s temper.

“Sorry you can’t stay, Soren,” said Soren, “but I’ll see you later, handsome.”

The three-dimensional avatar blurred and flattened like it had been pressed between glass. Another figure expanded and sharpened before them: Hess, lifeless, staring straight ahead.

Hess was fuller in build than Soren, with a chiseled face and sleek, combed-back hair. Only his eyes, dull and sunken, revealed the decades between him and his son.

Soren sat motionless in the pilot’s seat, staring at his father’s avatar. Hess had left him behind in Reverie. He had to be thinking about that now.

Aria licked her lips. Her stomach was already in knots and they’d just gotten started.

Perry caught her eye and gave her a slight nod, like he knew the words on the tip of her tongue.

“Keep going, Soren,” Aria said quietly. “You’re doing fine.”

Soren seemed to collect himself. “I know I am,” he said, though his voice lacked its usual bravado.

Hess’s avatar came to life. His shoulders lifted—the same small shiver Soren had done moments ago. Soren controlled it now. He would use the avatar like a puppet, directing it through the Smarteye.

“Always wanted to be just like you, Dad,” he said under his breath. “I’m linking into the Komodo’s system.”

His fingers glided over the Belswan’s controls, effortlessly controlling the avatar and the Hover’s instrumentation. This was his language, Aria thought, as surely as singing was hers.

In front of the windshield, a transparent screen flickered up, divided into three segments. Hess occupied the center. The screen on the right contained a combination of maps, coordinates, and scrolling flight plans, all lit in neon blue. The left-hand screen showed a cockpit like the Belswan’s, but smaller. It was the inside of the patrolling Dragonwing—the ship they intended to commandeer.

Four Guardians in flight suits and helmets sat in two rows.

Hess—or rather, Soren as Hess—spoke right away, the avatar suddenly brimming with an authoritativeness Aria knew well. “Patrol Alpha One Nine, this is Commander One, over.”

He paused, waiting for the information to make an impact.

And it did.

The Dragonwing crew exchanged worried looks. Commander One was Consul Hess. They were receiving a direct message from the very top.

The Guardian at the comm responded. “Alpha One Nine, copy. Over.”

They’d bought it. Aria let out her breath and sensed Perry relax beside her.

“Alpha One Nine,” said the Hess avatar, “we picked up a distress message from a downed Hover, three—no, make that four—minutes ago on your incoming. Does anyone want to tell me why you’re not responding?”

Soren played his father perfectly, uttering the words with simmering condescension and barely contained hostility.

“Negative on the message, sir. We didn’t receive it. Over.”

“Stand by, One Nine,” Hess said. Soren kept the transmission running, letting the Guardians observe Hess as he turned, bellowing to a control room that wasn’t there, that would be nothing more than a figment of everyone’s imagination. “Somebody get him the coordinates. Now, people. My son is on that ship!”

“Your son, sir?” said the Dragonwing pilot. Surely he knew that Soren had stayed behind in Reverie as it crumbled, but that didn’t mean Soren hadn’t survived—or that Hess wouldn’t welcome him back.

Hess turned to an imaginary underling and said, “Have his hearing checked when he gets back. And if those coordinates aren’t up in—”

The screen with the flight plans blinked. New information trickled down—maps, diagrams of the Belswan, coordinates—all running like fluorescent raindrops from top to bottom.

Hess leaned forward, looking into the camera eye. “Listen closely. I want everyone on that ship here in one hour. If you fail me, don’t bother coming back. Acknowledge, Alpha One Nine. Over.”

Aria barely heard “Affirm, sir” before the image of Hess disappeared.

Soren had cut off the comm. He rocked back against the pilot seat, breathing fast, his chest rising and falling. “My father is an orangutan’s ass,” he said after a moment.

No one disagreed. That seemed to deflate him, though the words had been his own. He pressed his eyes closed, wincing, before he returned to the controls, powering the Belswan down completely.

The darkness in the cockpit startled Aria, even though she had expected it. Small rivers of rainwater flowed down the windshield.

Aria clicked on a flashlight, the beam illuminating Soren’s face.

“See?” he said, through clenched teeth. “Easy.”

So far, Aria thought. It would only get more dangerous.

They left the cockpit and hurried to the bay doors. As she jogged outside, the rain slapped her shoulders and face and pounded against the ramp, raising a riotous clatter.

Beneath the back end of the Belswan, Brooke and Roar fed green branches to a fire partially covered by a field tent and hidden beneath the tail end of the Hover. The effect was convincing: billows of smoke curled around the tail of the Hover, obscuring it and giving the appearance of wreckage.

A thick waft drifted past, and Aria turned away, stifling a cough into her wet sleeve.

“I should be in front,” Soren said, jogging up beside her. One minute outside, and she was already soaked. “I should be the first contact point.”

Perry shook his head. “No. We stick to the plan.”

Soren wheeled around, facing Perry. “You saw how nervous the Guardians were. It’ll make it worse if they don’t see me right away.”

“Wrong, Dweller. You’re the asset. They’ll expect your position to be protected, which is by the ramp like we planned.”

“He’s right, Soren,” Aria said.

They each had parts to play in the mission, based on their strengths. Perry, Roar, and Brooke knew how to stay calm in life-and-death standoffs, and their Senses would bring obvious advantages. They were best suited to engage the Guardians first.

“It’s a rescue,” Soren pressed. “They’re not going to expect—”

“Stay here!” Perry snapped, fury sparking in his eyes. “Don’t move from this spot, or I swear I’ll break your face again.”

He glanced at Aria, a quick flash of green, and then he jogged away, small eruptions of water punctuating every step. He was so tall—so noticeable—but in seconds he melted into the woods along the edge of the clearing. Brooke and Roar followed. All three disappeared into the rain-blurred shadows beneath the tree cover.

“Who does he think he is?” Soren said.

“He’s the blood ruler person,” Jupiter said.

“Quiet!” Aria said, scanning the hills in the distance. Her ears tuned to a sound through the hissing rain. A drone like bees. Through a scrim of smoke and rain, she spotted a luminous dot moving across the hills. A point, like a blue flare, streaked toward them.

The Dragonwing.

It cut through the air like a blade, the sound of its engine growing louder as it neared. Louder and louder, until she wanted to clamp her hands over her ears.

Wind and rain whipped into her face. Aria flinched and turned to the side to shield herself. She blinked, clearing her eyes, and the ship was suddenly there, floating in place just a hundred paces away.

Her gut twisted at the sight. Beside her, Jupiter took a step back and Soren cursed under his breath. Sleek and compact, gleaming like a drop of moonlight, the Dragonwing Hover looked like raw speed.

As she watched, landing gear hatched from the craft’s belly and then gracefully settled onto the rain-soaked grass.

The bay doors slid open, and three Guardians jumped to the ground, landing with a splash.

Only three. That meant one crew member had stayed inside.

She shifted on her feet, her pulse hammering. They’d practiced what to do in this scenario. It would increase the risk—for Perry especially—but they were ready. They could do this.

The Guardians wore lightweight suits and helmets with goggles, just like them. One of the men stayed by the craft, while the other two crossed the clearing toward Aria. They came forward cautiously, their guns sweeping the terrain for danger or any sign of threat.

When a red light moved across her chest, everything took on a faraway quality, distant and slow. The sound of the rain fading. The fat drops pelting her shoulders disappearing. Everything receded except the seed of pain inside her bicep.

“Hands up! Hands in the air!” yelled one of the men.

At her sides, Soren’s and Jupiter’s hands lifted. Aria glimpsed curled fingers in her peripheral vision and realized her hands were up too. She didn’t feel any pain in her bad arm. She hadn’t even realized she had that range of motion.

In the distance, Roar emerged from the woods and moved toward the Guardian posted by the Dragonwing, approaching from behind, as stealthy and purposeful as a panther.

She saw a blur of movement as he closed in, slamming into the Guardian with so much force that she jerked back and felt the wind rush out of her own lungs.

In an instant, Roar had the man on the ground. He jammed a knee into the Guardian’s spine, pressing a compact Dweller gun to his head.

Soren gasped, feral energy vibrating off him. She had seen Roar’s efficient ruthlessness before, but Soren hadn’t.

Perry darted out of the woods, passing Roar and diving into the Dragonwing. Then Brooke emerged and took her place behind the two Guardians who continued their careful approach, unaware of their fallen teammate at Roar’s feet.

“Put your weapons down!” Brooke yelled, raising a gun. The two men spun and froze as they saw her. Aria drew her pistol from a concealed holster. It felt awkward handling the weapon with her non-dominant hand, but she doubted she’d need to use it.

The four Guardians had been neutralized: Perry would have the man inside the Hover handled. Roar had taken care of the Guardian outside the craft. She and Brooke had the two in the clearing.

Everything was under control. Just like they planned.

Until Soren reached behind his back and drew a gun.

12

PEREGRINE

Perry crashed into the Dragonwing’s cockpit, spotting his target, the Guardian who’d stayed behind, in the pilot seat.

The man grabbed for the gun at his belt. His hand never touched the weapon.

Perry jammed his knee into the Guardian’s face. Not the blow he’d intended, but the space was tight. He caught the slumping Guardian by the collar and dragged him to the bay door, tossing him out into the rain, where he landed a few paces from Roar’s man.

Perry jumped down from the Dragonwing. He didn’t need to say a word to Roar, who knew exactly what to do.

“I got it, Perry. Go,” Roar said before his feet even hit the mud.

Perry sped past him, running toward Brooke. Across the flooded field, smoke still spewed from beneath the tail of the Belswan. He was struck by how small Aria, Soren, and Jupiter looked against the Hover. Brooke stood halfway across the field, between the two Hovers, pointing a gun at the pair of Guardians she’d surprised from behind.

The two men still held their guns as they assessed the situation. Perry watched them consider their overpowered teammates lying in the mud at Roar’s feet. Then Brooke and Aria, both with guns. And finally him, jogging up.

The Guardians had no options. They would recognize that and yield. They should’ve already seen that by now, but something didn’t feel right.

Perry was twenty paces away from Brooke when he spotted the gun in Soren’s hand.

“You heard her!” Soren screamed at the top of his lungs. “She said put your weapons down!”

The Guardians looked from Brooke to Perry to Soren, their movements jerky. They drew together, back to back, their guns raised.

“Do it!” Soren screamed.

They will, Perry wanted to shout. Give them a chance and they’ll do it!

He bit back the words. Panic fed panic. Yelling would only make matters worse.

Soren’s arms straightened, his gun swinging between the Guardians. “I told you, weapons down!”

A single pop broke into the air, muffled by the patter of the rain but unmistakable.

Soren had fired. He jolted back, absorbing the recoil.

An instant later, shots exploded into the air as the Guardians fired back.

Brooke cried out as she dropped to the ground. Aria, Soren, and Jupiter scattered, running back to the Belswan.

Every muscle in Perry’s body wanted to sprint toward them, but he threw himself down. Wet earth coughed as bullets struck around him. He rolled, splashing through rainwater. In the middle of a field, there was nowhere to find cover.

The shots stopped, the drone of the rain filling the quiet. He lifted his head. The Guardians were running for the woods.

The shorter man of the two turned as he fled, unleashing a barrage of shots at Roar, who crouched by the Dragonwing.

Roar launched himself beneath the craft, disappearing to the other side.

More gunshots. Whistling overhead on a path to Aria. Slapping the mud by Perry’s arms.

Ignoring them, he brought his gun up, everything he knew about shooting falling into place. He relaxed his muscles, letting the bones in his arms support the weapon. Then he aimed and let out his breath, firing two shots. Adjusting slightly, he found the next man and squeezed the trigger twice again.

They were clean shots, all. Kill shots.

The Guardians went sprawling just before the tree line.

Perry leaped up before they’d fallen to the earth. Scrabbling for a foothold in the thick mud, he half sprinted, half slid to the Belswan, one thought blaring in his mind. One person.

“I’m fine,” Aria said as he reached her.

He took her by the shoulders and looked her over anyway. Head to toe. Toe to head. She was all right. He waited for the relief to set in, but it wouldn’t.

“Perry, are you?” Aria asked, her eyes narrowing.

He shook his head. “No.”

A wailing sound pulled his attention away. Nearby, Jupiter clutched his thigh as he writhed in agony on the ground. Brooke knelt beside him. Blood poured from a cut high on her scalp, running down one side of her face.

“It’s nothing, Perry,” she said. “Just a graze, but he’s worse. They got him in the leg.”

Aria moved to Jupiter’s other side. “Let me see, Jup. Calm down and let me see.”

Perry glanced across the field. Roar stood by the Dragonwing, over the bodies of the other two Guardians. Perry whistled, and Roar looked up. He shook his head, and Perry understood. Roar had shot them. He’d needed to. The instant Soren’s gun went off, there’d been no other possible outcome.

Perry’s vision began to tunnel, his rage focusing on one point. Wheeling, he snatched Soren up by the collar. “What’s wrong with you?” he yelled.

“They weren’t putting down their guns!”

Soren struggled, but Perry held him fast. “You didn’t give them a chance!”

“Yes, I did! How much time does it take to lower a gun? An hour?” Soren stilled, no longer fighting against Perry’s grip. “It was only supposed to be a warning shot! I didn’t know they’d shoot back!”

Perry couldn’t respond. He wanted to break Soren’s jaw again. Prevent him from ever speaking another word. “I should have finished you off the first time, Dweller.”

Roar jogged up. “We need to move, Perry. Time’s running.”

“You’re going back,” Perry said, releasing Soren with a shove. “You’re out of this.”

Soren was a danger. There was no way Perry would take him into the Komodo now.

“Oh yeah? Who’s going to fly the Dragonwing for you?” Soren tipped his head to Jupiter. “Him? I don’t think so. Who’s going to get you to Cinder inside the Komodo? You think you’re just going to stumble up to him, Savage?”

“I should’ve learned to fly Hovers,” Aria said.

Her tone was wry, but her temper was ice. Controlled. Perry drank it in, letting it take the edge off his own anger.

“We have to bring him, Perry,” she said. “The Guardians are all dead. Jupiter and Brooke are hurt. If Soren doesn’t come, it’s over.”

Perry looked at Soren. “Get in the Dragonwing and wait there. Don’t even blink without telling me first.”

Soren marched away, grumbling. “I’m blinking, Savage. I’m doing it right now.”

“Soren,” Roar called. When Soren looked back, Roar flung his knife into the air. The blade spun end over end, heading right for Soren, who yelped and dodged aside.

It missed him by a hair, as Roar had surely intended. Roar never missed.

“Are you insane?” Soren yelled, his face turning red.

Roar jogged over and calmly picked up his knife, but he sheathed the blade with a vicious thrust. “That’s how you do a warning shot.”

Perry watched them walk to the Dragonwing. Same direction, twenty paces between them. Then he carried Jupiter into the Belswan, setting him down in the pilot seat.

Aria had already boarded the ship. She tied a tourniquet around Jupiter’s leg. Then she wrapped a bandage around Brooke’s head as she relayed instructions to Brooke for treating Jupiter’s wound. Anticoagulant. Pressure. Pain medication. Everything was in the kit at her feet.

Jupiter rambled, asking over and over if he was going to die. The blood from his leg mixed with the rainwater on the floor of the craft. From what Perry could tell, the shot had only hit muscle, the bullet cutting through cleanly. As gunshot wounds went, it was a good one, but Jupiter blathered on until Aria put her hand over his mouth, silencing him.

“Pay attention,” she said. “You need to fly this Hover, Jupiter. Get back to the cave. Brooke knows the way. They’ll take care of you there.”

“We’ll get there,” Brooke said, smiling. “Don’t worry about us. Go. And good luck.”

“You too, Brooke,” Aria said. “Be safe.” Then she darted out of the cockpit.

Perry caught her at the top of the ramp. A sheet of rain fell across the opening, blocking the outside like a waterfall. He grabbed her by the hips, afraid of hurting her arm—and that was the problem right there.

Four dead. Two injured.

And they hadn’t even reached the Komodo yet.

“Aria, that was too close—”

“I’m going with you, Perry,” she said, spinning to face him. “We’re getting Cinder back. We’re getting Hovers, and then we’re going to the Still Blue. We started this together. That’s how we’re going to finish it.”

13

ARIA

With Soren piloting the Dragonwing, they sped through the lashing rain toward the Komodo, their breaths loud and ragged in the quiet of the cockpit. They were a quartet of pure stress, each of them fighting to regain focus.

Aria pressed her back into the seat. The ride was jarring, almost violent compared to the Belswan, as though this craft had to fight to reach its greater speeds. She felt every small jostle in her throbbing arm.

Soren and Roar sat in the two anterior seats, commander and pilot. She and Perry sat in the seats behind them.

Half an hour ago, four men had been in these same spots. Her seat still held the warmth one of them had left behind. It seeped through her clothes to her legs and her back. She was cold, trembling and soaked, but that warmth—the final echo of a man’s life—made her want to crawl out of her skin.

Was it her fault? She hadn’t pulled the trigger, but did that matter? Her eyes moved to Soren’s back. She had brought him to the Tides. She had trusted him.

Beside her, Perry sat rigidly. He was muddied, bloodied, and intent, his stillness contrasted by the rainwater dripping steadily from his hair. He’d been against Soren from the beginning, Aria thought. Should she have listened to him?

She turned her focus back to the windshield. Trees blurred past, the hills where the Komodo was stationed drawing closer at an astonishing rate.

“Five minutes out,” Soren said.

Five minutes until they reached the Komodo. They were heading right into the dragon’s lair—and there were two dragons.

She pictured Hess, who was so quick to disregard human life. Travel safely, Aria, he’d said, before he dumped her out to die. He’d done the same to the thousands of people he left in Reverie. He’d told them he was going to fix everything; then he’d abandoned them in a collapsing Pod.

If Hess was a killer, then Sable was a murderer. The act was personal with him; he’d looked into Liv’s eyes when he’d fired the crossbow at her.

Aria bit her lip, an ache building in her throat for Perry. For Roar and Talon and Brooke. She was stupid to think this way right now, but grief was like the mud that covered them. Messy. Quickly spreading everywhere, once it found a way in.

“I’m going to learn how to fly these too,” Perry said, his voice low and deep. “So I can race you.”

His green eyes held a smile, a trace of good-natured competitiveness. Maybe he really did want to fly Hovers. Or maybe he knew exactly what to say to calm her down.

“You’re going to lose to her,” Roar said from the front seat.

He was teasing, Aria thought, but Perry said nothing back, and every second that passed in silence made Roar’s comment seem less friendly.

To her relief, Soren broke the silence. “I pulled up the last five flight plans and I don’t see any deviation. I’ll extract voice samples from those missions, change them up and graft everything together. That will get us through the protocols and make everything seem routine. They won’t notice a thing.”

They had planned this part earlier, knowing that even alive, the Guardians could jeopardize the mission over a live comm. Soren would splice the recordings of the now-deceased Guardians and reuse them in order to continue their façade. The Realms—their entire life once—had become a weapon, helping them uphold the image of a normal patrol.

Was Soren telling them all of this again, waving his contributions in the air, as a way of apologizing?

Aria cleared her throat. She played along, asking for more information that they already knew. They needed to band together. Now.

“And when we get there?” she asked.

“All covered,” Soren said. “I’ve got it right here.”

He pushed a few buttons. A diagram of the Komodo appeared on a transparent screen, just as it had in the Belswan. The Komodo looked like a spiral made of individual units that could link and unlink, like old-fashioned train cars. Each segment was capable of breaking off and becoming individual, or self-determining, as Soren said during their run-through. Each unit could travel or fight in its own right.

In its stationary state, the Komodo coiled like a snake, following the same principle that had been utilized in Reverie’s design. The outer units were defensive and supportive. The inner three, at the center of the coil, were highest security, highest priority. They housed the most important figures.

“My father and Sable will be in these central units,” Soren said, highlighting them. “My guess is Cinder’s in there too.”

They were risking their lives on that guess.

“The landing port is on the south end of the compound right here,” Soren said, illuminating that portion on the diagram. “The central-corridor access is on the opposite side, the north end. That’s where we want to go. It’ll take us right to the inner units of the Komodo without having to move through the entire thing.”

“You’ll get us into that corridor?” she asked.

“It’s secured, no question, but I’ll try to hack the codes when we get there. I tried earlier, but there’s no way to do it unless I’m on-site.”

“What if you can’t hack them?”

“Then we go to the loud plan. Explosives.”

Soren spoke without his usual bragging tone. He had made a mistake, and he knew it.

She glanced at Perry, hoping he sensed it too. But he seemed deep in his own thoughts.

“Three minutes,” Soren said as they crested hills that had seemed far away just moments ago.

A jolt of adrenaline shot through her. There, sitting at the heart of a plateau, was the Komodo.

Aria sensed the gradual descent of the Dragonwing as Soren counted down the last two minutes. Her pulse sped up as they approached the rows of Hovers lined across the plateau. She saw ten Belswans. Twice as many of the smaller Dragonwings. Just eight days ago, these same craft had been inside a hangar in Reverie.

Soren flew the Dragonwing toward a runway—a stretch of dirt that cut through the center of the fleet. At the far end, through curtains of thick rain, the south side of the Komodo hulked, dark and imposing.

The Dragonwing gave a gentle lurch as it touched down. A few Guardians exited the Komodo and jogged toward them on the runway.

“They’re just coming to check the Hover,” Soren said, answering the question on all their minds. “Don’t worry. Standard postflight procedure. Get your flight helmets on. When the doors open, go straight to the Komodo. I’ll handle the ground crew and catch up to you. Oh, and try to act like you’ve been here before.”

Aria glanced at Soren. As difficult as he was, they couldn’t have done this without him.

She pulled a helmet on. It was too big and smelled faintly of vomit and rancid sweat.

She left the cockpit, forcing herself to straighten her arm despite the pain that bloomed in her bicep. She needed it to look normal.

“Here we go,” Soren called, just before the bay doors opened.

A gust sent rain spraying into her visor.

Aria jumped down, followed by Roar and Perry. Her legs felt heavy as she hit the mud, the drop bigger than she’d expected. She flew forward, lurching a few steps before finding her footing again. Both Perry and Roar reached out, but she straightened and ignored them. She doubted Guardians went around catching each other’s stumbles.

Behind her, Soren talked to the ground operators, his voice loud and confident, like he knew everything about everything.

Through her rain-pelted visor, she saw Hovercraft looming all around her, sleek and silent. Even with Roar and Perry at her sides, she felt exposed. Like the huge ships were an audience, watching her as she walked by.

The Guardian suit was water-repellent, but sweat rolled down her spine and over her stomach, causing the uniform to cling to her anyway.

With every step, the Komodo seemed to grow larger. So large that she questioned how it could ever be mobile. As she neared, she glimpsed massive, spiked wheels—each one several feet high. She’d been thinking of it as a snake because of its coiled structure, but now she thought centipede.

Two Guardians stood beneath a small overhang, manning the entrance. They wore weapons like the ones that had put a hole in her arm and in Jupiter’s leg. To either side of the entrance, she saw black-tinted windows.

Was anyone watching them? Hess? Sable? How well could they see through the pouring rain?

Soren brushed past her and jogged up the ramp, past the Guardians, and into the Komodo without breaking his stride. The men at the door barely nodded in acknowledgment as Aria, Perry, and Roar followed.

Inside, a steel corridor stretched to the left and right, hardly wide enough for two people to stand shoulder to shoulder. Aria’s breath came in gasps as they jogged right, Soren leading the way.

Ten minutes ago he’d almost compromised the entire mission; now he was in charge, following a schematic of the layout on his Smarteye.

Aria grabbed Perry’s arm, slowing him. Slowing them all. They were too noisy. Too obvious. Perry, Roar, and Soren had substantial builds. She was probably running with five hundred pounds at her sides at least, and the Komodo felt it. They were creating a small earthquake in the corridor, the floor shaking, reminding her this wasn’t a fixed structure.

They passed two doors. Three. Five.

Soren led them into the next one—an equipment room. Rows of flight suits like theirs lined the far end. Helmets. Weapons in narrow storage lockers.

Soren ran to a locker and rifled through it. He came up with a small, stubby black gun with a thick barrel. “Grenade launcher,” he said. “For the loud plan.”

They left their flight helmets, taking fresh weapons. Perry pulled a length of rope across his shoulder, and they filed back out to the corridor, Soren leading the way once again. He set a quick pace, just short of breaking into a run as he navigated through the twisting corridors.

Aria worried that every turn they made now was a turn they’d have to make again in order to get out of there.

Voices carried to her ears, coming from somewhere behind her. Aria locked eyes with Roar, who’d also heard. Someone was approaching. They’d avoided other people so far, but their luck had run out.

Roar whistled softly. Up ahead, Perry spun, reacting instantly. Together they moved toward the voices, so swift and close that Aria felt a rush of air as they passed her; then they turned the corner and disappeared.

Aria forced herself to keep going with Soren—to reach the central corridor—despite the desperate pull to go after them.

She picked up the pace, glancing back once more, and ran right into Soren’s chest. Aria bounced away, stunned.

Soren stood with his arms crossed, a smile on his face. “Intense, isn’t it?”

“Why are you stopping?” she asked, dread knotting inside her. He was enjoying this.

“We’re here.” Soren tipped his head toward a heavy door with a darkened access panel at its side. “This is it.”

The door itself was unmarked and not at all like what she’d expected of the gateway to the most secure areas of the Komodo.

Then it hit her. Behind that door, she’d find Cinder.

And Hess.

And Sable.

Soren knelt in front of the panel. He cracked his knuckles and coaxed it to life with a tap, then expertly moved through screen after screen of security interfaces.

Watching him, she was reminded of Ag 6. Of the night he’d done this months ago. In a flash she remembered Soren’s hand, crushing her throat. Aria shook away the memory and listened for footsteps in the corridor—or for Roar and Perry. She heard only the soft buzz of the overhead lights.

“Hurry, Soren,” she whispered.

“Do I need to explain why that’s not helpful?” he said, without looking up from the panel.

Her eyes went to the grenade launcher at his belt. Quiet plan, she prayed. Break the codes. Please let the quiet plan work.

The security panel flashed green. Relief flooded through her, but it was short-lived. She glanced down the corridor. Where were Perry and Roar?

Soren peered up at her. “Not that I’m trying to rush you,” he said, “but we have sixty seconds before this door closes. What do you want to do?”

14

PEREGRINE

Keeping close to walls, Perry rushed toward the sound of approaching voices, Roar half a step ahead of him.

With any luck, whoever was around the corner would turn back or head into one of the chambers that split off the corridor. But as he and Roar hurried down the hall, they didn’t pass any other doors—that meant no other outlet.

Roar glanced back, shaking his head. He must have realized the same thing: they were on a collision course.

Voices came into focus: a male, saying something cutting about Dweller food. A female, laughing in response.

He knew that laugh. It turned his veins to ice.

Roar surged forward, covering ten paces in total silence. He dropped to a knee at the bend in the corridor. Perry took a defensive position a few feet behind him, his gun aimed and ready. A half a second later, the man appeared, still talking as he rounded the corner.

He wore clothes customary to the Horn tribe—a black uniform with red stag horns on the chest. Roar kicked his leg out, sweeping the man’s feet from beneath him. Roar didn’t waste an instant. He pounced and slammed the soldier’s head against the floor.

The girl who followed wore the same uniform, the black cloth setting off hair as red as sunset.

Kirra.

Perry grabbed her before she could react, trapping her against the wall. He clamped one hand over her mouth, the other around her neck. She didn’t fight, but her eyes went wide, her temper jagged and blue with fear.

“Make a sound, and I’ll crush your throat. Understand?”

Perry had never hurt a woman before, ever, but she’d betrayed him. She’d used him, and taken Cinder.

Kirra nodded. Perry released her and tried not to see the red marks his fingers had left on her cheeks. Behind him, Roar dragged the fallen man back by the arms.

Back . . . back where? There was nowhere to hide.

“Hi, Peregrine,” Kirra said, a little out of breath. She licked her lips, struggling to regain her composure.

Two weeks ago, for about half an instant, he’d considered kissing those lips. He’d been insane then, rejected by his tribe and Aria. Missing Liv and Talon. Kirra had kicked him at the lowest point in his life. She’d almost destroyed him.

“You saved us a lot of trouble,” she said. “We were going to come for you.”

Perry didn’t understand. Why did they want him? He pushed away his curiosity. “You’re going to help me find Cinder and Sable.”

“Why Sable?”

“The Still Blue, Kirra. I need a heading.”

“I know the coordinates. I could get you there.” She narrowed her eyes. “But why should I help you?”

“Do you value your life?”

She offered a wry smile. “You won’t hurt me, Perry. It’s not in you.”

“I have no problem with it,” Aria said.

Perry turned to see her jogging toward them, a pistol in her good hand. “Bring her, and hurry,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Soren has the door open.”

He ushered Kirra through the entrance to the central corridor. Roar lifted the fallen man over his shoulder. He rushed through the door just as it slid closed.

They’d made it. They were another step closer.

“Who’s she?” Soren asked.

“I’m Kirra.”

Aria raised the pistol. “Hi, Kirra.” She nodded to the man over Roar’s shoulder. “Tell us where to dump him.”

Kirra’s cheeks flushed, her temper heating. “In there. It’s a utility room. No one will find him until tomorrow.”

Quickly, Roar disposed of Sable’s man.

“Now Cinder,” Perry said to Kirra.

“This way.” She led them down the hall, this one made of black rubber panels, more a tube than a corridor.

“Time, Soren,” Perry said.

“One hour.”

They were at the halfway mark. An hour ago Soren had posed as Hess and sent the false message to the Dragonwing. In another hour that security breach would be discovered.

“Cinder’s in here,” Kirra said, stopping at a door. “There should be four other people inside. One Guardian by an observation room at the far end. Three doctors.”

Soren made a face, looking from Aria to Perry. “Am I the only one wondering why she’s helping us?”

“She’s telling the truth,” Perry said. He scented it—and that was all he needed to know. They needed to find Cinder and get out of there.

Roar moved to the door, ready to be on point. Despite their falling-out, every move Roar made was exactly what Perry wanted—exactly how they’d always fought and hunted. Reading each other’s minds, no need for words.

Perry pushed Kirra to Soren. Then he nodded at Roar, who slipped inside. Perry followed right after. They took swift control of the room. Roar overpowered the Guardian with a burst of speed, stripping the man of his weapon and pinning him to the ground.

A wall of glass divided the room into two chambers. In front of the windows was a line of desks and some medical equipment with monitoring screens. Three doctors in white coats stood there—all frozen in shock.

Looking for security cameras or alarms, Perry never broke his stride as he crossed to the windows of the observation room.

Inside, Cinder lay strapped to a hospital bed, his eyes half open, skin as pale as the sheet that covered him.

Perry fired at the hinges until the door popped loose; then he tore it open and rushed to the bed.

“Cinder.”

A thick, chemical scent came from the various bags and tubes that fed into Cinder’s arms. Perry had barely drawn a breath, but already his throat felt scraped raw by the strong scents.

“Perry?” Cinder rasped. When he blinked, Perry only saw the whites of his eyes.

“Right here. I’m going to get you out of here.”

Perry pulled out the wires and tubes attached to Cinder. He tried to be gentle, but his hands—usually steady—were shaking. When Cinder was free, Perry lifted him up, his gut twisting at the weight in his arms—too little, too light. Not enough for a boy of thirteen.

In the other room, Soren and Roar finished binding the doctors to chairs with rope. By the door, Aria had a pistol trained on Kirra.

They rushed out to the central corridor, retracing their steps as they headed back to the south end of the Komodo. Perry carried Cinder, and Roar shepherded Kirra along.

“Soren, we need pilots,” Aria said.

It was the only missing piece, but Perry’s instincts told him to abandon that part of the plan.

“Seriously? You think I can find four pilots right now?” Soren said in disbelief.

Perry caught Aria’s eye. “We’ll have to figure it out later.”

“I’m setting off the alarms,” Soren said as they passed the equipment room from earlier.

Within seconds, the wail of sirens exploded into the air. This was part of their strategy for leaving. The alarms would signify a breach on the Komodo’s north side, where they’d just been. They hoped the diversion would draw attention away from the Hover they were about to steal on the south side.

As they reached the heavy double doors that led outside, Soren stopped short. He cast an anxious look behind him. “My father’s in here somewhere.”

“Soren, you can’t go back,” Aria said. “You have to fly us out of here.”

“Did I say I wouldn’t? I just thought I’d see him. I thought—”

“Think later.” Perry handed Cinder to Soren and moved to the doors. Not sure what they’d run into outside, he drew his gun and nodded to Roar. “Go. I’ll cover you.”

Roar released Kirra. “No. I’m staying here.”

For a moment, Perry couldn’t make sense of what Roar said. Then he scented Roar’s temper, scarlet, burning, bloodthirsty, and knew he hadn’t misunderstood.

“I’m not leaving,” Roar said. “I’m not going until I’ve found Sable and watched him die. If I don’t end this, he’ll come after Cinder again. He’ll come after you and me until we stop him. You have to cut off the head of the snake, Perry.” Roar pointed down the corridor. “The snake is in there.”

Perry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They were seconds away. Steps from making a clean escape. “This is about revenge and nothing else. Don’t act like it isn’t.”

Roar spread his hands. His pupils were wide, flashing with feral energy. “You’re right.”

“You won’t change anything by going in there. You’ll only get yourself killed. I’m ordering you, Roar. I command you as your lord, and I’m asking you as your friend: don’t do this.”

Roar replied as he backpedaled, retreating into the hall. “I can’t let Sable get away with it. He has to pay. And I’m already dead, Perry.”

Then he spun and rushed back into the depths of the Komodo.

15

ARIA

Aria sprinted after Roar.

She didn’t know how she planned to stop him. By talking to him? He wouldn’t listen. By force? He was stronger. She only knew she couldn’t let him go. She wouldn’t let him face Sable alone.

Perry knocked into her shoulder, shooting past her. He thundered down the hall, gaining on Roar with every step. He’d knock Roar out and it would break her to help him, but she would. No matter what, they couldn’t leave Roar here.

Perry had almost reached Roar when he came to a sudden halt. Instinct speared through her. Her muscles locked and she came to a shuddering stop, confused until she saw the corridor beyond them fill with Guardians.

They aimed weapons at Perry and Roar, shouting, threatening, unleashing a barrage of loud demands.

“Down, down, down! Weapons on the ground now!”

Aria drew her gun as she saw five, six Guardians, and still more filing into view. Too many of them. They were trapped. The realization crashed through her.

Then she saw Roar leap at the man closest to him.

Perry followed in the next instant and suddenly it was chaos, a jumble of limbs, swinging and kicking.

She raised her pistol, searching for a clear shot, but the corridor was so narrow and she was using her left hand. She couldn’t risk hitting Perry or Roar.

Three men pinned Perry to the floor—she couldn’t even see him—but she heard him.

“Go, Aria! Get out of here!” he yelled.

Then Roar exploded from of the mob with two men at his back. They pulled Roar up by the arms and shoved him against the wall. Roar’s forehead struck the steel with a sickening crack.

One of the Guardians pushed a gun under his jaw, yelling at Aria. “You shoot, I shoot!”

Perry was still yelling for her to leave but she never would. Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t.

Behind her, the red-haired girl, Kirra, stood by the exit. She’d gotten hold of the stocky grenade launcher Soren had taken earlier. Smiling, she pressed it to his temple while he stood helpless with Cinder in his arms.

A crackling, static sound made Aria whirl back. A Guardian tugged Perry to his knees, twisting his arm behind him. Another man jammed a stun-baton into his ribs.

Perry’s eyes rolled back, and he thudded to the floor.

The man turned the baton on Roar, who jolted and slumped against the wall, then collapsed next to Perry.

All the shouting in the corridor quieted. Aria heard nothing as she stared at Roar and Perry, both lying motionless. Deathly still. She was overcome by the urge to fraction. To leap into the dark frigid waters of the Snake River. Anything that would take her someplace that wasn’t here.

“It’s over, Aria,” Soren said. “They got us. It’s over.”

His voice startled her. She came back to herself, aware she still stood there, her pistol trained on the man with the baton.

How long had she been that way? A while, she realized. Long enough for Guardians to be pressed together on their knees and stomachs, all pointing guns at her.

Waiting.

She uncurled her fingers and let the weapon fall.

16

PEREGRINE

Perry woke to the sound of Kirra’s voice.

“Pere-grine . . .” She drew his name out in a singsong.

He struggled to clear his vision. To figure out where he was.

“Can you see me?” Kirra leaned down. Close. Closer, until her face was the only thing Perry saw. She smiled. “I’m so glad you’re here. I hated the way we parted.”

He had hated everything before that—every second he’d spent with her. He wanted to tell her so, but he couldn’t speak.

Everything seemed slow and loud, and like he was seeing it through warped glass. Kirra’s lips looked too thin. Her face too long. The freckles on her cheeks and nose drifted over her skin. Then they spread across her face and over her scalp, darkening, turning deep red, and suddenly she wasn’t Kirra anymore.

She was a fox with black shining eyes and needle-sharp teeth.

Panic surged through him. He tried to lift his head, his arms, but his body wouldn’t respond. His limbs were leaden. He couldn’t even blink.

“You knew I was at the Tides on orders, didn’t you?”

It was Kirra’s voice, from the fox. From the animal’s flashing eyes.

“Sable sent me to get Cinder, but I didn’t expect you to become such a distraction. We were just getting to know each other, too. But I always do what Sable says. So should you, by the way. I mean that. I don’t want to see you hurt, Perry.”

The fox turned away. “Can he hear me, Loran? He seems so far.”

“I can’t hear if he’s hearing, Kirra,” answered a deep voice. “That’s beyond even my ears.”

“Are the drugs necessary? He’s already tied down to the cot. I can’t even scent his temper.” The fox disappeared, moving out of Perry’s line of sight. “Where are the Mole doctors? Sable isn’t going to like this either.”

Perry heard a door open and close, and then the sound of Kirra’s voice fading.

Above, exposed wires and pipes crisscrossed the metal ceiling. They wavered, like he was seeing them beneath water.

He could do nothing else, so he began at the left corner and worked his way right, memorizing every turn and every bend.

Time passed. He knew because Kirra returned.

“That’s better,” she said, smiling. She sat on the edge of his cot, her hip against his forearm. She was herself again—no more fox.

“I had the Dwellers lower the dosage,” she said. “You’re welcome.”

Perry could blink now. His mind felt less clouded than earlier, and he could track Kirra’s movement with his eyes. Still, he couldn’t move his limbs, and he badly wanted to take his arm away from Kirra’s hip.

She glanced over her shoulder. “He looks better. Doesn’t he, Loran?”

The man who stood by the door was lean, his nose and eyes slender and hawk-like. His black hair showed no hint of graying, but he had a competent, seasoned bearing. Perry guessed the soldier to be in his forties. The stag horns at his chest were sewn in silver thread instead of the customary crimson, likely indicating a high rank in Sable’s forces.

“Much,” responded the man.

One word, but it carried hefty sarcasm.

Kirra turned back to Perry. “You came so close to getting away this morning. I thought you were going to do it. And I was so looking forward to being your prisoner.” She smiled, moving closer. “Oh, your friend? He’s the Aud who left with Aria, isn’t he? You didn’t tell me he’d be so nice to look at. Though he doesn’t compare to you.” Her gaze raked over his body. “In case you’re worried about him, you shouldn’t be. He’s locked in a holding cell. With Aria.”

Perry knew her games. She took his insecurities and hung them on a line, exposing each one.

“Bet you wish you had depended on the right people. That seems like a recurring problem in your life.”

Perry swallowed, his throat as rough and dry as bark. “I never trusted you, Kirra.”

She blinked at him, her smile widening at hearing him speak. “I know. You see me for who I am. That’s why I like you so much. You know the truth but you still don’t hate me. Well, that and you look delicious. More so when you’re moving, but—”

She quieted when the door slid open and hopped off the cot.

The man who entered was average in build, with closely shorn dark hair and eyes the color of water. A sparkling Blood Lord chain hung at his neck, the sapphires and diamonds bright against a trim dark coat.

Sable.

Fury crashed over Perry like a tidal wave. He wasn’t prepared to see his sister’s killer. He hadn’t expected the rage that tore through him. He wanted to rip Sable’s eyes from his head. Break his fingers off and snap his bones into pieces. But trapped in his body, paralyzed, the urge had nowhere to go. It pounded inside his skull, shaking loose memories of Liv.

His sister came alive in his mind. Tossing her hair over her shoulder as she laughed. Tickling Talon until tears ran down his face. Punching Roar in the arm over some joke they’d shared.

His mind felt so weak; he couldn’t push the memories away. To his horror, the pressure of tears built behind his eyes.

“Kirra, you can leave now, please,” Sable said calmly. “Loran, bring me a chair, and then you can leave as well.”

They did as instructed. Perry waited for Sable to come to the chair by the cot, to begin whatever he had planned.

He didn’t.

With every passing moment, Perry’s anxiety built. The drugs were still in him, slowing his thoughts and making his blood feel thick. He couldn’t fight his emotions. He felt his control over reality slip as horrible images flipped through his mind. Bleeding wounds. Burnt flesh and poisoned veins, each one worse.

He’d almost forgotten Sable until the Blood Lord spoke.

“Your temper is faint, but what I can scent is truly extraordinary. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m entirely responsible. The drug you’ve been given has mild psychotropic effects. I can’t imagine you’re enjoying that very much. Hess’s idea, not mine. It was intended to demoralize you. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but your near success on this mission embarrassed him. Personally, I was impressed by what you almost accomplished. I’ve been looking around. I know what you did wasn’t easy.”

Perry forced himself not to respond. He wouldn’t give Liv’s killer the courtesy of his words.

Sable came to the cot and stood over him. Once again his eyes captured Perry’s attention. Clear, but ringed in dark blue, they studied Perry with a mixture of cold calculation and amusement. “I’m Sable, by the way.”

He pulled the chair closer and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. “It seems inevitable that you and I should meet, does it not?” he said. “I knew your father, your brother, and your sister. I feel as though everything has led to this. To us.

“I don’t think your father thought much of me, though,” Sable continued casually, as though they were old friends. “We met years ago, when we still had tribal gatherings. Jodan was reserved and quiet around strangers, not unlike yourself, but Vale and I got on much better.

“Your older brother was cunning and ambitious. I enjoyed the time we spent together when he came to negotiate for your sister’s hand. We had many long conversations during his stay in Rim. . . . Quite a few of those were about you.”

Perry gritted his teeth until they hurt. He didn’t want to hear this.

“Vale expressed serious concerns about you. He feared you’d try for the Tides’ chain, so he asked me to take you into my house as part of the arrangement we were making for Olivia. He wanted you gone, Peregrine. And I accepted. People who inspire fear are my very favorite kind. I was eager to meet you. But later, Vale wrote and said he’d made other arrangements for you. We both know where that led.”

Sable looked up to the ceiling and drew a deep breath through his nose. The chain at his neck glinted with gemstones—nothing like the crude metal of the Tides’ chain. Of his chain.

“I would have done the same to Vale had I been in your circumstance,” Sable continued. “Betrayal is unacceptable. In fact, I have done the same thing, which brings me to your sister. Olivia.”

Before he could stop it, a gurgle bubbled in Perry’s throat.

Sable’s eyebrows rose. “Fresh wound? It is for me, too.” He nodded, quiet for a moment as his eyes took on a distant look. “Liv was sublime. Ferocious. Being around her was like breathing fire. I want you to know that I treated her well. I wanted only the best for her. . . .”

He shifted in his seat and leaned closer. “You’re very easy to talk to. I don’t just mean because you’re a good listener.”

At first Perry thought he was joking, but Sable’s expression was pensive and relaxed.

“You’re a Scire, and a Blood Lord,” he continued. “You understand my position like no one else can. You know how hard it is to find trustworthy people. How impossible it is. People will turn on each other for the smallest reasons. For a meal, they will toss a friendship aside. For a warm coat, they will stab each other in the back. They steal. They lie and betray. They lust for what they can’t have. What they do have isn’t enough. We are weak, wanting creatures. We are never satisfied.”

Sable’s gaze narrowed. “Do you scent it as often as I do? The hypocrisy? The lack of basic decency? It’s unbearable. I get so tired of it. I know you agree.”

“I don’t,” Perry said. He couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. “People are imperfect, but it doesn’t mean they spoil like milk.” His voice came out hoarse and quiet, nearly inaudible.

Sable studied him for long moments. “You’re a hatchling still, Peregrine. You’ll agree with me in time.” He pressed a hand to the gold horns at his chest. “I don’t lie. When I told Liv I would give her the world, it was the truth. I had planned to do it. And then I came to know her better and I wanted to do it. I would have given her anything she asked for, if only she’d been loyal.

“I knew about your friend. Roar. Your brother told me about them when we made the deal. When Olivia came to me months late, months after the time Vale and I had agreed upon, I knew why. I have Auds listening for me everywhere. I have Seers hidden in every patch of forest, acting as my eyes. But Liv came to me nonetheless. She chose me and she told me so. I told her she needed to be absolutely certain. I told her she couldn’t go back once she decided. She swore she wouldn’t. She promised herself to me.”

Sable leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I am an honest man. I’ve been told you are as well. I expect the same from others. Don’t you? Is that too much to ask?”

Don’t answer, Perry told himself. Don’t argue. Don’t speak. Don’t give him what he wants.

Sable sat back and unfolded his legs, a satisfied smile spreading over his face. “I enjoyed this very much. I’m already looking forward to our next conversation—which we’ll have soon.”

Standing, he moved to the door, his smile vanishing and his eyes as cold as death. “You know, Peregrine, you weren’t the only one double-crossed by Vale. Your brother promised me a bride, but he sold me a whore.”

17

ARIA

I want to see my father!” Soren yelled at the door. “Tell him I want to see him!”

He’d been doing the same thing, on and off, for over an hour.

They were locked in a small room with two iron bunk beds bolted to the floor, outfitted with nothing more than thin mattresses. On the far end was a closet barely large enough to house a toilet and sink.

Sitting beside her, Roar looked like he was seconds away from attacking Soren. A purple welt had risen over his eye, where he’d struck the wall earlier.

Finally, Soren turned to face them. “No one’s listening,” he said.

“He’s only figuring that out now?” Roar muttered.

“Who are you to talk, Outsider? You’re the one who—”

“Shut your mouth,” Roar said through clenched teeth.

“Me? We’re in here because of you.”

“Soren, just drop it,” Aria said.

“You’re defending him?

“We need to stay focused on getting out of here,” she said. “Your father will talk to you. He’ll come. When he does, you need to negotiate with him. Find out where Cinder and Perry are—”

Her voice broke on Perry’s name, so she stopped and pretended she’d finished her thought.

Soren plopped down on the opposite bunk, letting out a frustrated sigh. Guardians had confiscated his Smarteye, and his clothes were caked with dirt from their muddy skirmish with the Dragonwing pilots.

Aria stretched out her legs, staring at her own filthy pants. The rainwater had dried from the lightweight material, but she still felt uncomfortably chilled and out of sorts. Hours had passed since Perry had been dragged away unconscious. She felt his absence everywhere, in her skin and deeper, in her muscles and bones.

“You want me to negotiate with my father.” Soren gave an exaggerated nod. “Right. That’ll work. Remember your little meetings with him? Coffee in Venice? Tea in Japan? You’ve seen him way more than I have. And he isn’t exactly rushing to see me, is he, Aria?”

“He’s your father. He wanted you to leave Reverie with him.”

He snorted. “He also left my friends to die. What do you want me to say to him, anyway? ‘Sorry we hacked your security system, impersonated you, took your Hovercraft, and killed a few of your soldiers, but can you please let us go?’”

“One more word, Dweller, and I will hurt you.” Roar’s voice was low and full of deadly warning.

Soren went still, the smirk fading from his face. He shook his head and lay back with a thump on the cot.

“Miraculous,” Roar said under his breath. He drew his knees up and cradled his head in his hands, tugging at his hair.

Watching him, Aria saw her own frustration. How much longer would they be there? What did Hess and Sable have planned for them? Marron had said that in days, Aether storms might be constant and everywhere. Was that happening now on the outside? Every second they remained trapped in this small room robbed them of their chance for survival.

Her gaze fell to her injured arm, resting on her thigh. There had to be a way out of this. She just needed to figure it out.

“Soren,” she said after a while.

“What?” he said wearily.

“When Hess comes for you, tell him I want to see him too.”

Some time later, she woke curled on her side on the hard mattress. Roar stood in the middle of the room, staring vacantly into space as his hand worked an invisible blade. Aria had seen him do that a hundred times with steel flashing at his fingertips—a habit he had when he was restless. Now there was nothing but air.

Soren was gone.

Roar stilled when he saw her, embarrassment flitting across his handsome face. He sat opposite her and crossed his arms. “You were right. An hour ago, Guardians came to take Soren to Hess.” Roar tipped his head to the door. A plastic bottle and two trays rested on the floor. “They brought food. I was going to wake you, but you looked like you needed sleep. Also, it looks terrible.”

Aria sat up, her muscles stiff, her mind groggy. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours.”

She hadn’t meant to sleep, but the pain in her arm was exhausting, and it’d been more than a day since she’d rested. Her eyes had slammed closed as soon as she’d laid her head down.

“Did you eat?” she asked. Both trays looked untouched.

Roar shrugged. “I would take a bottle of Luster right now. Nothing else.”

She studied him, gnawing her lip. Roar had always been lean, but lately his cheekbones looked sharper, and deep shadows welled beneath his eyes.

She had no appetite either, but she grabbed the water and joined him on the same bunk. After taking a long drink, she handed it to him.

“That’s not Luster.”

“Just drink it.”

Roar took it and drank.

“Why did they take him? Why Perry and not us?”

“You know why, Aria.”

She didn’t like his dismissive tone. Worse, she didn’t like the confirmation of her worries.

Hess and Sable had taken Perry because of his connection to Cinder. They planned to use him somehow.

Roar said nothing more. As the moments passed, she felt him retreat. Aria picked at the crusted mud on her uniform, hating the silence that stretched and stretched, with nothing but the sound of their breathing.

Quiet was right on Perry. Not on Roar.

But she didn’t break their silence either. She didn’t want to blame him for their capture, like Soren, and if she spoke, she might.

Roar set the water jug on the floor. “Have I ever told you about the time Liv and Perry and I went to look at some horses for Vale?” he said, sitting back again.

“No,” she said, a lump rising in her throat. He was talking, which she wanted. Sharing a story about Liv and Perry as he’d done countless other times. But those times, Liv had been alive. “You haven’t told me that story.”

Roar nodded. “It was a few years ago. Some traders came down to the Shield Valley with horses from the north. Vale sent us to have a look. Liv and I were seventeen, Perry a year younger.”

He paused, scratching the dark stubble on his chin. Aria didn’t know how he managed to sound so normal. Nothing about this story, or this place, or their situation felt normal.

“We never actually saw the horses. We hadn’t been at the traders’ camp for an hour when a band of dispersed showed up. A group like the Six. Hard men who’d cut you down just for looking at them the wrong way. We tried to steer clear of them, but it turned out we were all waiting to see the horse master.

“These men recognized Liv right off. They knew she was Vale’s sister, and they started taunting her and saying these lewd things . . . awful things. It wasn’t like Liv to keep quiet, or Perry for that matter. It especially wasn’t like me, but they outnumbered us three to one. Perry and Liv held their tongues, but after about ten seconds I’d heard enough. I felt like I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t do something.

“So I went after one of them, and pretty soon it was me against nine. Perry and Liv jumped in, of course, and for a little while there we were all in a nice knot until it got broken up. Liv and I came out of it with a few scratches, but Perry’s nose was gushing blood and he’d broken a finger or two. So we thought. They were too swollen to tell. He’d also sprained an ankle and suffered a gash on his forearm.”

The muscles in Roar’s neck rolled as he swallowed. “Seeing him roughed up like that was as bad as hearing those things about Liv. Worse, because it was my fault. He got hurt because of me.”

Finally, Aria saw the point of the story. Roar was scared. He feared Perry would be hurt because of him. Because he’d chosen to hunt Sable down instead of escape when they had the chance.

She wanted to tell him that Perry would be all right, but she couldn’t. She was too nervous. Too scared herself that Perry wasn’t all right.

Instead she said, “I feel like every story you tell me, he gets his nose broken.”

Roar raised an eyebrow. “You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

“I have.” Aria hugged her legs, ignoring the pain that pulsed in her right arm. She pictured Perry’s expression as he’d put his hand to his heart. “I should thank you. I like his nose the way it is.” In fact, she loved it.

“You can thank me if we get out of this.”

“When we get out of this.”

Roar frowned. “Right . . . when.”

The door hissed open. They shot to their feet.

Three of Sable’s men stepped inside. Two had the Horns symbol emblazoned in red on their black uniforms, but the third man, who carried himself like a leader, wore a uniform with silver horns. All three carried Dweller pistols in holsters at their belts.

“Turn around and put your hands behind your backs,” said one.

Aria didn’t budge. She couldn’t look away from the oldest soldier—the silver-horned one. She recognized him as the man who’d been sparring with Liv in the courtyard in Rim when they’d first arrived.

She shook away the memory. “Where are you taking us? Where are Peregrine and Cinder?”

The soldier’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, as though he was trying to recall where he’d seen her before. Then his gaze dropped to her injured arm, tucked to her side. His appraisal was intense and it unnerved her, making the blood pound in her ears. She sensed Roar’s tension beside her. He was holding his breath, and she wondered if he remembered the Horn soldier too.

“I have orders to take the two of you to Sable,” said the older soldier at last. “I’m authorized to use whatever force necessary to carry out that directive. Is that clear?”

“I can’t put my hands back,” Aria said. “I was shot a week ago.” Just imagining the pain she’d feel made her head spin.

“What do you want to do, Loran?” asked one of the other soldiers.

“I’ll watch her,” the senior soldier replied.

Loran. Aria recognized the name. That day in the courtyard, Liv had shouted it just after she’d soundly defeated him.

Roar’s hands were tied in front of him with plastic cuffs. Then Loran took her by the left arm and yanked her into the corridor.

18

PEREGRINE

The ceiling was different. No more pipes and wires.

It was the first thing Perry noticed when he opened his eyes. The second was the prickling sensation of the Aether, deep in the back of his nose.

Cinder.

Perry turned and saw him in the next bed. Cinder lay strapped down by thick plastic cuffs, his eyebrows knitted in concentration like he’d been willing Perry to wake up. He was dressed in a loose gray shirt and pants, and tubes fed liquid into his arms.

Perry wanted to shoot to his side, but bindings held him down as well; he couldn’t move an inch.

Cinder licked his cracked lips. “You came here for me?”

Perry swallowed. His throat ached fiercely. “Yes.”

Cinder winced. “Sorry.”

“No . . . don’t be. I’m sorry I didn’t get you out of here.”

Every word took effort. The scent of the medicines hung heavily in the room. Perry tasted the chemicals on his tongue. He felt sluggish and slightly dizzy, but the urge to move, to get off the cot and stretch his muscles, overwhelmed him.

Cinder fell silent, his breath wheezing, his eyelids drifting closed for a few seconds.

“I tried too,” he said, finally. “To get out of here, I mean. But they’re giving me this medicine. It makes me so weak, and I can’t call the Aether. I can’t reach it. . . . I don’t feel very well.”

Perry glanced at the long glass wall that divided the room in two. It looked almost exactly like the room where he’d found Cinder earlier, except larger. The other side was empty—just a long table and a dozen chairs.

“We’ll find another way out of here.”

“How?” Cinder asked. “They’re doing the same to you.”

He was right. Perry couldn’t help anyone in his condition.

“Was Willow . . . was she . . . has she said anything about me being gone?” Cinder asked. “Forget it. I didn’t mean to ask that. I don’t want to know,” he added in a rush.

“She’s said a lot, Cinder. Too much, actually. She took up cursing the day you were taken. Nobody can get her to stop. She’s got Talon swearing too. . . . I think . . . I think even Flea is barking swear words. Probably it’ll be that way until we get you home.

“Molly misses you, and so does Bear. Gren feels terrible Kirra’s men got past him. He’s told me so a dozen times, and he’s told Twig and the rest of the Six a hundred times more than that. . . . That’s how it is. Everyone misses you. Everyone wants you back.”

The effort of saying so much gave Perry a pounding headache. He wanted Cinder to smile, though. Now that Cinder did—a shaky, teary grin—Perry felt tears well in his own eyes.

“I liked being there, with the Tides.”

“You’re one of us.”

“Yeah,” Cinder said. “I am. Thanks for coming for me, even if it didn’t work.”

Perry smiled back. “Sure . . . glad to be here.”

That got them both laughing—or hacking and coughing in an attempt at laughter that was probably the sorriest sound ever made.

The doors in the other room slid open, and they fell silent.

Hess entered with Soren and took a seat at the table.

Others entered behind them. There, escorted under guard, he saw Roar and Aria.

19

ARIA

Aria stared at the black glass. She couldn’t see him, but she knew Perry was on the other side.

“What’s going on, Hess?” she asked.

Hess folded his hands on the table and ignored her.

Her captor, Loran, dragged her to the table. “Sit.” He pushed her into a chair and ordered Roar to take the seat on her other side. Aria sensed Roar’s focus on her and realized she was breathing quickly. She had to calm down. She needed to concentrate.

Across the table, Soren sat next to his father. He had been given new clothes, and his hair was damp and combed from a shower, but she noticed the slump in his wide shoulders, the weariness in his face. He’d been cleaned up, but he seemed more tired than ever.

When he caught her eye, he gave a little shrug of apology. What did that mean? Had he betrayed her and allied himself with Hess?

Her gaze moved to Hess, and repulsion coiled in her veins. His chiseled features seemed more severe than she remembered, his eyes smaller and hollower. Then again, for the past months she’d only seen him in the Realms through her Smarteye.

During their meetings, he’d favored casual dress. Fine suits. On occasion informal military attire. Now he wore full military regalia—an impressive uniform decorated with ribbons at the collars and cuffs.

Four Guardians came through the door, armed with rifles, pistols, the stun baton they’d used on Perry and Roar.

The sight of so much weaponry sent a bolt of fear through her.

“Is Perry in there?” she said, raising her voice. “Why are we here?”

Then Sable stepped into the room, and her vocal cords clamped shut.

Hess wouldn’t acknowledge her presence, but Sable did. He smiled and said, “Hello, Aria. It’s good to see you again. Yes, Cinder and Peregrine are both in there. You’ll see them soon.”

She wanted to look back to the wall of glass, but Sable’s gaze kept her riveted. Her mind replayed those last seconds on the balcony in Rim: Liv falling backward and landing on the stones, the bolt from Sable’s crossbow embedded in her heart.

“We’re all here, I believe,” Sable said. “Shall we get started?” Kirra slid into the seat beside him, sending Aria a mocking wave.

Roar’s eyes locked on Sable. His hands, tied in front of him, clenched into fists.

“We should start with the Still Blue,” Sable said, “since that’s why we’re all here. It’ll help if you all know the challenges we have in reaching it.”

“Why should I even believe you know where it is?” Aria asked. “Why should any of us?”

Sable smiled, his pale eyes unblinking. She couldn’t tell if he looked pleased or furious at her interruption.

Hess seemed so soft, so tame at his side. In a trim black coat, with a shining Blood Lord chain at his neck, Sable looked electrified and in control.

“Then I’ll start with how I discovered it and let you decide whether you believe me or not. Three years ago, one of my trading ships, the Colossus, fell into the grip of a storm and was swept out to sea. The crew suffered a tragic loss of life. Only two young deckhands survived. Inexperienced sailors, coincidentally both Seers, they were adrift for weeks when they came to something quite unbelievable.

“We’ve all seen the funnels of Aether, but what these men described was very different. A wall of Aether. Or, I should say, a waterfall of Aether. A barrier that flowed from the sky, extending endlessly upward, and across the horizon as far as they could see. An astonishing sight, but no comparison to what lay beyond. On the other side, through small gaps in the Aether flows, these young men glimpsed clear skies. Still skies. No Aether.”

“Where are these men?” she asked.

“No longer available.” Sable opened his hands, the gesture matter-of-fact. “I had to secure the knowledge.”

He was ruthless. Admitting he’d killed these sailors so frankly and with no remorse. Aria looked around the table. No one seemed surprised.

“You believe this story without proof?” she asked Hess.

“It corroborates our theories.”

“What theories?” she demanded. Answers were coming at last. She wanted to know everything.

Sable nodded at Hess, who answered. “It was an early theory that linked the disruption of Earth’s magnetism with the arrival of the Aether. Magnetic north and south shifted, a clash that we’re still in the midst of. But it was theorized that pockets of magnetism would form . . . cohering the way water droplets do. We think the Still Blue is one of these pockets. A magnetic field that’s keeping the Aether at bay. What those two men saw was the boundary—Aether pushing as far up to this field as possible and pooling there to create a wall.”

“Why didn’t we know this before?” Aria demanded.

“Those who needed to know did,” Hess said. “And the knowledge led nowhere. We conducted extensive searches, but nothing was ever found. The idea was abandoned.”

It was so much to take in. Aria’s entire body felt numb. “And the plan to get through the barrier?”

Hess glanced to the glass wall. “We’ve had little success controlling the Aether through technological means. Other approaches, biological ones, may still work. The CGB—the research group your mother was part of—had the primary focus of sculpting genetics to make life in the Pods sustainable. But they also ran a few experimental programs. Some of these, like the immunoboost, looked at bringing us back outside the Pods. Another focused on evolutional acceleration.”

Aria’s mother had been a geneticist. She already knew where this was heading. Hess continued, explaining for the benefit of the others.

“By creating people with a high degree of genetic plasticity—DNA that’s extremely malleable—they hoped to create humans who could rapidly adapt to whatever environment they encountered: chameleons who could change on a cellular level, molding to an alien atmosphere, to whatever conditions they met.”

As Hess spoke, Sable gave a signal to one of his men at the door. Horn soldiers came in from the corridor, standing along the wall. Hess’s Guardians entered as well. Both groups seemed uneasy to be there.

“The CGB had already seen Outsiders who exhibited this type of rapid evolution by assuming enhanced sensory capabilities.” Hess glanced at Roar. “But what the program accomplished went further than anyone anticipated. Not only did the test subjects adapt to the Aether; the Aether adapted to them.”

He paused, just a beat of silence. In that beat, Aria began to count Guardians. Horn soldiers. Weapons.

“It wasn’t long before the project was deemed a failure,” Hess continued. “There were instabilities that weren’t accounted for. As with anything, in solving one problem there’s always a possibility of creating secondary, consequential problems. While the scientists had figured out how to create a human with dynamic genetics, they couldn’t figure out how to turn those dynamics off. The test subjects expired within years of creation. They were nonviable. They . . . self-destructed.”

Hess looked to the glass wall again and said, “All except one.”

20

PEREGRINE

Speakers in the ceiling had piped in every word.

“I’m . . . I’m an alien?” Cinder said. The scent of his fear flooded the chamber.

“No. That’s not what he said.” Perry pulled against his restraints, though he knew it was useless. He wanted to shatter the glass between the chambers and reach Aria.

Reach Sable.

They’d seen everything too, but Perry knew it wasn’t the same from the other side. Whenever Aria or Roar looked over, their gazes scanned, never settling on him or Cinder.

Cinder’s eyebrows drew together, his expression desperate. “But I heard that man. He said the word alien.”

“He also said the word chameleon, but you’re not one of those, are you?”

“No. But they created me as an experiment—that part is true.”

“You’ve made yourself into who you are—not them.”

“He said I was going to self-destruct. He said I was going to die. He said—”

Cinder fell silent as Sable’s voice came through the speakers.

“We need Cinder to get us through that wall of Aether. He’s the only one who can do it.”

Aria shook her head. “No. It would kill him. And he won’t do it for you.”

Sable and Hess exchanged a look, but Sable answered. “I think I speak for us both when I say we’re only concerned with your second point, which is why your arrival here couldn’t have come at a better time.”

He rose from the table and came to the windows. “Hess, make this transparent, please.”

The glass lost a faint smokiness that Perry hadn’t noticed until then. In the other room two dozen people turned in unison.

Aria shot up from her chair. Fear flashed in her eyes; he hated seeing it. “Hess!” she yelled. “What did you do?”

“It was a necessary measure.” Hess rose from his seat and joined Sable. “They’re on sedatives to keep them submissive. We couldn’t control the boy without them.”

“That’s going to change,” said Sable. He moved along the glass wall until he stood in front of Cinder. “You can hear us, correct?”

“Yes,” Perry growled, answering for Cinder. “We can hear you.”

Sable smiled, like Perry’s reaction pleased him. “Good. Cinder, as you’ve just heard, you’re the key to our survival. You are the only one who can unlock the door to the Still Blue. We need you. But in order for you to help us, you have to be taken off the suppressants so you can regain your strength and access the full power of your gift. What we can’t have, Cinder, is you using your ability to harm us.”

He turned his attention to Perry. “That’s where you can help. From what Kirra tells me, Cinder has already risked his life for you. He looks up to you. He’ll listen to you.”

Perry’s gaze went to Kirra. Two weeks ago, Cinder had driven away the Aether so the Tides could reach the cave in safety. She’d been there and must have told Sable.

“Cinder needs to do for us what he did for you,” Sable continued. “That will require your help. Keep the boy in line as he’s weaned off the suppressants. Encourage him to cooperate. He has the opportunity to save lives. He can become a savior, Peregrine. A martyr.”

“A martyr?” Cinder whispered beside him, terror making his voice shake.

“He’s just a kid!” The words flew out of Perry’s mouth before he could stop them.

“He’s thirteen,” Kirra scoffed. “That’s hardly a kid.”

“You have no leverage,” Hess said. “We have it all.”

They did. They had Roar and Aria—they could pressure him to comply—but he still couldn’t agree.

Cinder began to cry beside him. “I can’t!” He looked at Perry. “You know what will happen to me.”

Perry knew. The last time Cinder had called the Aether, it had almost killed him. The magnitude of what Sable described would make that certain.

As Blood Lord, he’d needed to put people he cared about in danger to help the tribe, but this . . . a sacrifice? He couldn’t ask that of Cinder.

“He’s not doing anything for either of you,” Perry said, looking from Hess to Sable. “And neither am I.”

Sable’s voice came through the speakers again. He sounded a little smug as he said to Hess, “We’ll have to take my approach.” Then he lifted his hand in the air. “Cinder, I want you to think of these four words: Is it worth it?” he said, counting them off.

“If you attempt to escape or use your abilities against us, that’s the question you should ask yourself. Then you should think of Peregrine—of Perry there—and consider how much he means to you. Think about how you’d feel if he suffered because of you. That will happen if you don’t do exactly as I say, and it won’t stop there.

“Aria. Roar. Even the girl at the Tides Kirra tells me you’re so fond of. They’re all within my grasp. And I don’t think you want their pain—or their blood—on your conscience. On the other hand, if you help us, then your friends will stay safe. I’ll bring them all on the journey to the Still Blue, where they’ll live under my protection. Rather clear-cut, in my opinion. Is all of this making sense to you?”

Cinder groaned. “Yes.”

“Excellent.” Sable’s eyes glinted with intensity. “Then I’ll ask once again: As you regain your strength, will you do exactly as I tell you? Can I trust you to obey me, Cinder? Will you submit your power to me?”

21

ARIA

No!” Cinder’s answer was a battle cry. A sound of raw defiance.

The echo of his voice hung in the air as his veins lit with Aether, which covered his face and arms and spread over his bare scalp.

The lights in the room shuddered. Gasps rose up from the Guardians and Horn soldiers. Guns flew from their holsters, all of them pointing at Cinder.

“Stop!” Hess yelled. “Put away your weapons! He can’t harm you!”

Aria turned to Roar, whose face flashed with the strobing lights, thinking now.

Roar pushed back from the table. He grabbed his chair between his bound hands, hurling it at the wall of windows.

It struck with a crack, bouncing off. The glass splintered, spiderwebs splaying across its surface, but it didn’t shatter.

Aria dropped and rolled beneath the table.

She came up on her knees by the door leading to Perry and Cinder’s chamber. Behind her she heard yells, footsteps scattering in panic. She jabbed at the security panel. A red flashing message told her what she’d already known. Only a special access code would get her inside.

“Soren!” she yelled, having no idea if he’d help or if he was in league with Hess now.

The rattle of gunfire exploded around her. She covered her ears, tucking into a ball. Gunshots pocked the door in front of her, and the smell of hot metal seeped into her nose. She braced for the same slap she’d felt in her arm when she’d been shot in Reverie. It didn’t come.

“Stop! Don’t hurt the boy! He cannot be harmed!” Hess shouted over the noise. Aria peered behind her to see him shove a Guardian, who dropped the pistol in his hand. One of the Horns had Roar by the arms, and Soren was belly crawling toward her from the opposite side of the room.

She didn’t see Sable.

“Out! Everyone out!” Hess yelled.

Abruptly, the gunfire ceased and men rushed for the door. Guardians and Horns jammed at the exit, pushing, shoving in their hurry to flee. In the kick and trample, the fallen pistol skittered across the polished floor, stopping a few feet from Aria.

She snatched it up, aiming at the man who was dragging Roar outside. “Let him go!”

The Horn soldier released Roar without a fight, plunging into the corridor. The door slid closed behind him.

Sable and Hess. Guardians and Horns. Everyone had cleared out.

Roar rushed to her side, Soren a second after. A high-pitched alarm exploded through the room’s speakers.

“We have to get out of here,” Soren yelled. “They’re going to gas the chamber.”

Aria looked up, tuning her ears, listening between the siren’s blares. A faint hiss came through the air vents. It was already happening.

“Find something to cut me loose, Soren,” Roar said.

Aria faced the glassed room. The only thought in her mind was reaching Perry. She adjusted her grip, finding the trigger with her left index finger, and fired at the glass at an angle. The weapon bucked in her hand five, six times, before the window peeled apart and fell in a heavy sheet.

She vaulted through the window frame into the room, rushing to Perry’s side. She set the gun down and began unbuckling the heavy straps. She felt slow and clumsy with her bad hand, but she forced calm into her movements. Panicking wouldn’t help.

She glanced at Perry’s face and found his green eyes fixed on her. “Are you hurt?” she asked.

He looked tired, his skin washed of color. Cinder was almost unconscious. The brief use of his power had bled him dry.

Perry gave her a small, strained smile. “Too angry to feel pain.”

Roar unfastened Cinder’s bindings. Soren came over and undid the ones on Perry’s feet. Aria saw Soren’s hands pause for a moment as he swayed, balance unsteady. The gas was affecting him.

She felt it too. The alarm sounded further away and deeper in tone, like it was disappearing into a dark tunnel.

As soon as she’d freed Perry’s hands, she shot to the door and found it locked.

“Aria . . . ,” Soren said behind her. “It’s too late. I don’t have time to hack it. . . . The gas isss . . . ,” he slurred.

“It’s not too late!” She backed away from the door and aimed at the locking mechanism. Her head was spinning. The room was spinning. She couldn’t keep her aim steady. A bitter taste like rancid limes slid over her tongue, and her eyes began to burn.

Roar’s hand closed over hers. He took the pistol. She noticed he was breathing raggedly. “It’ll ricochet. . . . Soren’s right.”

Disappointment washed over her. Crushing her with the feeling that they’d just made their situation worse.

Aria turned. Perry leaned against the bed, his wide shoulders hunched. “Aria,” he said simply.

Soren sat heavily against the wall. Then he slumped onto his side, eyes fluttering closed. The lime taste seared down Aria’s throat and the walls flapped, undulating like sails in the wind. She couldn’t move.

Perry’s head tipped to the side, heavy and resigned. Not the playful tilt she knew. “Come here.”

His voice drew her forward. She went to him, walking across the tilting floor. Her face smacked into Perry’s chest. He caught her by the arms. She’d only vaguely registered that her bicep didn’t hurt at all when she found herself on the floor, with no memory of sitting down.

Perry pulled her against his side, putting his arm around her. Soren had passed out. Cinder lay still on his bed. Roar sat against the door, glaring into space.

He seemed so far. The room seemed to stretch out and go on forever.

“S’good at least that—” Perry turned to face her, and his knee knocked into her thigh. “Sorry.”

“Didn’t feel it,” she managed to say through a numb mouth. “What’s good at least?”

“We’re together.” She saw the flash of a grin just before his eyes slammed shut. He fell forward, his forehead thudding onto her collarbone.

Aria wrapped her arms around his neck and held on as they drifted away.

22

PEREGRINE

That’s good. Come on back. There you are,” Sable said.

Perry opened his eyes, blinking at the brightness. His first thought was of Aria. Then Roar and Cinder.

He was going to demand to see them. To know how they were—where they were. But then he saw the table next to his bed.

A set of tools rested on a tray. A wrench and a hammer. A mallet with a black rubber head. Clamps and knives of all sizes. Finer tools with needle-thin points. Dweller tools that shone like icicles.

He had no doubt in his mind what was about to happen to him. But he was prepared for this. He’d known the instant he’d met Sable that this was possible.

The dark-haired man with the silver horns stood by the door. Kirra and a few Guardians as well.

Hess stood closer, next to Sable, his weight shifting from side to side.

“Do I have to stay?” Kirra asked. Her head was bowed, her red hair shielding part of her face.

“Yes, Kirra,” Sable said. “Until I say you can leave.”

Sable fixed his blue eyes on Perry, blinking a few times, staring quietly. Scenting Perry’s temper. “You know why we’re here, don’t you? I warned Cinder. I told him what I wanted. He refused me. Unfortunately, the price of that transgression falls on your shoulders.”

Perry looked to the ceiling, keeping his breath steady. He wanted, more than anything, to endure what would come next without begging. Even when his father beat him as a boy, he’d never begged. He wasn’t going to start now.

“I can’t hurt Cinder physically,” Sable said. “That would be counterproductive. But I can make him understand that until he concedes, he’ll suffer—through you.”

He turned his attention to the table; his hand hovered over pliers before he picked up the mallet. He tested the weight of the tool in his hand.

Perry could tell it was substantial.

“I’m thinking bruises. They’re showy. Not very messy, and—”

“Get on with it,” Perry snapped.

Sable slammed the mallet down on his arm. It struck Perry’s bicep, over his Markings. Bursts of red exploded before his eyes. A sound slipped out of him, like he was lifting a huge weight. He held on, waiting as the pain began to fade.

“There has to be an alternative to this,” Hess said.

“He’s our leverage, Hess, as you said. Our only means of breaking down the boy. And the alternative is that we die. How does that sound to you?”

Hess glanced at the door behind him and fell silent.

“Relax,” said Sable. “I hit him harder than I intended.” He looked back at Perry. “You know I’m being merciful, don’t you? I could find the girl he likes—what’s her name?” he asked Kirra.

“Willow.”

“I could have Willow on this table instead. You wouldn’t choose that, would you?”

Perry shook his head. His throat had gone dry, and his arm had its own heartbeat. “There is one thing you should know,” he said.

Sable’s eyes narrowed. “And what is that?”

“I don’t bruise easily.”

It was a stupid thing to say, but it gave him some small feeling of control over the situation. And the look on Sable’s face, surprised, incensed, was worth it.

“Let’s find out,” he said, tightly. And the mallet came down again.

This one was easier to endure than the first strike. Every one that followed became easier still as Perry retreated into his mind. His father had prepared him for this, and he felt a strange sense of gratitude. A euphoric closeness to times past, which had been terrible, but which had included Vale and Liv. They’d made him good at finding quiet, even peacefulness, in the face of pain.

When Sable came to Perry’s hands, tears pricked at his eyes. They hurt the worst, maybe because they had been smashed so many times before.

Hess turned green and left first. Kirra followed soon after with the dark-haired guard.

Only the men posted at the door stayed, too afraid of Sable to leave.

23

ARIA

Something terrible was happening to Perry.

Aria felt it.

“Sable! Hess!” she yelled again. “Where are you?” She pounded on the heavy steel door, screams ripping through her throat. “I’ll kill you!”

“Aria, stop.” Roar came up behind her. He wrapped her up, pinning her arms.

“Don’t touch me!” She struggled against him. “Let go! You did this!” She didn’t want to turn on him, but she couldn’t hold back. “You did this, Roar!”

He held on, and he was stronger, and she couldn’t push him away. She stopped fighting and stood, trapped against him, her muscles shaking.

“I know,” he said, when she was still. “I’m sorry. I know I did this.”

She hadn’t expected him to say that. Hadn’t expected to hear the guilt in his voice. “Just let me go.”

Roar released her and she spun, looking from his face to Soren’s, seeing their worry and fear, and suddenly tears poured from her eyes.

Her gaze cast around the small room. She needed to get away from them. With no better options, she climbed to the upper bunk and curled as close to the wall as she could, trying to keep back the sobs that tore through her.

Below, Soren said, “Do something, Outsider.”

“Are you blind?” Roar replied. “I tried.”

“Well, keep trying! I can’t take this.”

She felt the mattress sag. “Aria . . .” Roar’s hand rested on her shoulder, but she stiffened and moved away.

She was crying too hard to talk, and if he touched her, he would know that she hated him right now. She hated everyone. Cinder, for having been captured. Her mother, for dying. Her father, for being nothing but a figment of her imagination. Liv, because the thought of her only made Aria ache more.

Why was it so hard to bring together the people she loved and keep them safe? Why couldn’t she just wake up and spend a day—one day—without running or fighting or losing someone?

Most of all, she hated herself for her weakness.

This would help nothing, but she couldn’t stop. Her eyes still ran with tears. Her sleeve was soaked. Her hair. The thin mattress. She kept waiting to dry up, but the tears kept coming.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when she heard Soren.

“That almost killed me,” he said.

She’d fallen quiet, so he must have thought she was asleep.

Roar said nothing in reply.

“Are you going to eat?” Soren asked.

Food must have been delivered. She hadn’t even noticed.

“No. I’m not going to eat.” Roar’s response was icy, every word a jab.

“Me neither,” Soren said. “It doesn’t look that bad, though.”

“Your father runs this whole thing. Shouldn’t you have a private room somewhere?”

“Whatever, Outsider.”

As the quiet stretched out, Aria closed her swollen eyes. What was the point of all of their sacrifices and struggles? Why bother fighting for the Still Blue if Dwellers and Outsiders were only going to tear at each other’s throats?

She thought of the Tides and the Reverie group back in the cave. Was Willow watching Caleb make his sketches? Were Reef and the Six extracting the details of their mission from Jupiter? Or were they snapping and snarling at each other like Soren and Roar?

She didn’t want to fight just so there would be more fighting. She wanted to believe—needed to believe—that things could get better.

“So . . . that girl, Brooke?” Soren said, interrupting her thoughts. “What’s she like?”

“Get her out of your head right now,” Roar said.

Soren huffed. “I saw her looking at me when we were changing into our uniforms.”

“She was looking at you because you’re built like a bull.”

Soren’s laugh was nervous, clipped. “Is that good?”

“It’d be great if she were a cow.”

“What’s your problem, Savage?”

Aria held her breath, feeling like the future of everything hinged on Roar’s response. Come on, she silently pleaded. Say something, Roar. Say anything to him.

Roar gave a long sigh of resignation. “Brooke is a Seer, and she’s lethal with a bow. She doesn’t have the same range as Perry does, but she’s as good a shot. Maybe even better—but don’t ever tell him I said that. She comes off harsh until you get to know her, and then she’s . . . less harsh. She’s as competitive as they come and about as loyal. You already know what she looks like, so . . . that’s Brooke.”

“Thanks,” Soren said.

Hearing the smile in his voice, she smiled too.

“Oh, one other thing you should know,” Roar said. “She was with Perry for a while.”

“Nooooo,” Soren groaned. “You just ruined it for me.”

Agreed, Aria thought. Ruined it for me, too.

“So, he got Brooke and her,” Soren continued, indignant. “How does that even happen? He barely talks!”

Roar answered smoothly, like he’d given this some thought. “He ignores girls, and it drives them mad.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Soren said.

“Oh, I am. I could put on a show, I could get everyone laughing, but the next day I’m the one who gets the questions. ‘Why was Perry so quiet? Was he angry about something? Was he sad? What do you think he was thinking, Roar?’”

Aria bit her lip, teetering between laughing and crying. She’d been groomed into a performer, but he was a natural. Listening to him doing women’s voices was almost too much.

He went on. “Girls don’t understand that he was being quiet because he is quiet. It makes them crazy. They can’t resist trying to draw him out. They want to fix his quietness.”

“So, you’re saying I should ignore Brooke?” Soren asked.

“Look, I don’t think you stand a chance no matter what you do, especially now that I know you better, but yes. Ignoring her is your best move.”

“Thanks, man,” Soren said, his tone earnest. “If I see her again, I’m going to do that.”

If.

It seemed like that if was always there. The tick after the passing of every second.

If they got out of the Komodo—

If they reached the Still Blue—

If she saw Perry again—

She wanted the conversation to turn back to lighter things, to Roar’s stories and Soren’s sarcasm, but the moment had passed.

Aria wiped her cheeks, as though it would erase a few hours of crying from her face. She sat up, moving to the edge of her bed.

Soren sat on the lower bunk opposite her, his boxy frame propped over his knees. He was kneading his hands. Roar leaned against the bed frame, his crossed feet wiggling anxiously. Seeing her, they both froze.

She knew she must look like a mess. She felt like she had a sticky, salty film over her skin. Her eyes were almost swollen shut, she’d given herself a crying headache, and her wounded arm, her vestigial appendage, was curled tightly at her side.

It was a stupid time for vanity, considering everything that was happening, but she couldn’t remember ever feeling so pathetic.

Roar climbed up and sat beside her. He brushed her damp hair off her forehead and stared down at her with so much concern in his brown eyes that she had to fight back a fresh wave of tears.

“I hope you’re still angry with me,” he said. “I deserve it.”

She smiled. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Damn,” he said.

Aria looked at Soren, eager to focus on getting out of there again. “Did you talk to your father when they took you earlier?”

He nodded. “I did. He said his hands are tied. He didn’t actually use those words, but it was all this ‘Sable and I have a contract’ and ‘Sable is not one to underestimate others’ type of thing.”

She locked eyes with Roar and knew they were thinking the same thing: Hess was afraid of Sable. It didn’t surprise her. Was there anyone who didn’t fear Sable?

“My father said he would take me and you back,” Soren said to her. “He’ll bring us to the Still Blue. But no one else. The Hovers outside are all they have, and they’re expecting the crossing to be pure Aethery hell. He said he can’t take anyone who’d make it more difficult.”

His gaze flicked to Roar, but it wasn’t hostile. If anything, it was apologetic.

“You should go with him, Soren,” Aria said. “You did everything you could. You should save yourself.”

He shook his head. “I finish what I start.” He ran a hand over his hair and lifted his shoulders. “And anyway, I’m not going to just leave you two here.”

You two.

It was a subtle nod to Roar, who went still at her side, absorbing it. Then he tipped his head at Soren, like they’d come to a silent understanding.

Progress, she thought, feeling a small surge of optimism.

At least here, between these two, walls were coming down.

A short while later, the door slid open.

Loran stood at the threshold, his intense gaze settling on her. “Come with me. Quickly.”

Aria didn’t hesitate; her instincts told her to go. She slipped off the bunk and followed him into the corridor.

He was alone, she noticed. Earlier he had brought two other men to escort her to the meeting, but she’d been with Roar then.

Next she noticed the quiet emptiness of the halls. She tuned her ears, unnerved. The sounds drifting through the corridors were odd: the soft groan of metal, a faint screeching sound that raised the hair along the back of her neck. She knew that sound.

“There’s a storm outside,” Loran said quietly. He walked behind her, where he could anticipate any move she made. She knew without looking that his hand rested on the gun at his belt. “The Aether’s close. Only a mile or so away. The fleet of Hovers needed to be moved to safety, so we’re at half capacity.”

He was an Aud, she realized. He had noticed her focused hearing. Recognized it.

“What about the Komodo?” she asked. “Are we moving?”

“The Komodo isn’t fast enough to outrun the storm. Hess says we’re better off staying put.”

She slowed, coming even with him, surprised he was telling her so much. Loran scowled, but she remembered his good-natured smile when he’d sparred with Liv.

“I saw you in Rim,” she said. “Liv liked you.”

His eyes softened. “I was lucky to have known her.”

The comment was earnest and almost tender. She studied him, her curiosity increasing. His hair was black and long enough to skim the collar of his uniform. A long, pointed nose and high eyebrows gave him a natural air of superiority. He looked older than Sable by a decade.

He pressed his lips into a grim line when he caught her staring. “You’re going to run into a wall that way. Turn right up ahead.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere. Hopefully in this lifetime, but at the pace you’re setting, that’s uncertain.”

They came to a door flanked by Horn soldiers.

“Ten minutes,” Loran told them. “No one comes in that room.”

One of the men by the door nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Loran’s gaze flicked to Aria, his eyebrows knitting together. She saw dread and anticipation in his expression, and horrible thoughts crashed into her mind.

Until that moment, she hadn’t been afraid of him. Now she realized how naive she’d been. Loran had shown unusual interest in her the first time he’d seen her. She’d been aware of him because she’d sensed his awareness of her. She looked from the door to him, fear turning her to stone and rendering her mute.

Loran cursed at her reaction. “Skies! No.” He grabbed her arm, lowering his voice. “Keep your mouth shut and don’t utter a word about this to anyone. Not a word, Aria. Understand?”

Then he shoved her into the room.

Where she found Perry.

He lay on a narrow cot on his side, asleep or unconscious. Bare, except for a sheet pulled up to his waist. White towels were piled on the floor by the cot. Even in the dim light, she could tell they were stained with blood.

Her legs wobbled as she moved closer, overcome by numbness as she took in his condition.

His arms had always been sculpted with muscle. Now they were bloated. Swollen with purple and red marks that covered his skin. They spread over his chest and stomach. Over nearly every inch of him.

In all her life, her heart had never hurt like this.

Never.

Loran spoke quietly at her side. “I considered warning you. I couldn’t decide if it would have helped or made it more difficult. He’s expected to make a full recovery. The doctors have said so.”

She turned on him, rage igniting in every cell in her body. “Did you do this?”

“No,” he said, reeling back. “I didn’t.” He moved to the door. “You have ten minutes. Not a second longer.”

When he left, Aria knelt by the bed. Her gaze went to Perry’s hands, and she had to swallow the bile that crept up her throat.

She’d always loved his hands. The way each knuckle was shaped, solid and strong, like iron held him together instead of bone. Now she saw nothing but swollen flesh. His skin was unnaturally smooth, the contours of his joints gone, the lines that made him distorted beyond recognition.

Strangely, his face had been left untouched. His lips were chapped, and the scruff on his jaw seemed darker against the paleness of his skin, brown instead of blond.

His nose was perfectly, normally, beautifully crooked.

She leaned close, afraid to touch him, but needing to be near. “Perry . . . ,” she whispered.

His eyes opened. He blinked at her slowly. “Is it you?”

She swallowed. “Yes . . . it’s me.”

He looked to the door and back, then began to rise. “How did you—” He froze and made a sound deep in his throat like he was holding back a cough.

“Stay still.” Carefully, she lay down beside him. There was just enough room for both of them on the small cot. She ached with the desire to hold him, but this was as close as she’d let herself be.

She stared into his eyes, seeing deep shadows that had never been there before. His eyes drifted shut like he was trying to hide them, almost closing. His eyelashes were dark at the roots and almost white at the tips.

With only his face in sight, she could almost imagine he wasn’t hurt. That they weren’t imprisoned here. She could almost put herself back to when they’d traveled to Bliss in search of her mother.

They’d spent their nights this way, close, trading hours of sleep in favor of talking and kissing. Sacrificing the rest they needed for just another minute together.

Her eyes began to blur. She didn’t know how to handle this.

Perry spoke first. “I don’t want you to see me this way. . . . Can you pull the sheet up?”

She reached for it. Her hand settled on his ribs instead. He tensed beneath her fingers, but it couldn’t have been from pain; she was barely touching him.

“I can’t,” she said.

“You can. I know that’s your healthy hand.”

“I don’t want to.”

“This is hurting you. I know it is.”

He was right, she was in agony, but she wouldn’t let him endure this by himself.

“I can’t because I don’t want you to hide from me.”

He pressed his lips together, the muscles in his jaw flexing.

Shame. That’s what she saw in the shadows in his eyes. In the tears that pooled there.

He closed them. “You’re so stubborn.”

“I know.”

He fell quiet. Too quiet, she realized, as the seconds passed. He was holding his breath.

“It wasn’t a fair fight,” he said. “Otherwise I would have won.”

“I know,” she said.

“You know a lot.”

He was struggling to make light of this. But how could he? She moved her hand over the ridges of his ribs. Beautiful skin, marred by bruises.

“I don’t know enough. I don’t know how to make this better.” Anger swelled inside her, the pressure increasing in her chest. In her heart. It mounted with every bruise she drifted over. “Only a monster could do this.”

Perry’s eyes fluttered open. “Don’t think about him.”

“How can I not? How can you not?”

“You’re here. I only want to think about you right now.”

Aria bit back the words she wanted to speak. Tell me you’re furious. She wanted to hear him rage. She wanted to see a hint of the fire that always seemed to burn inside him. After this—after what he’d been through—would he ever be the same?

“I keep thinking about us,” he said. “How we were at Marron’s and afterward, when it was just the two of us. It was so good being with you.” He licked his lips. “When we get out of this, let’s go somewhere again. Me and you.”

The tension in her chest loosened, relief washing over her. He’d said when. Even in his beaten condition, he believed in whens and not ifs. She never should have doubted his strength.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked.

His smile was faint and lopsided. “Doesn’t matter . . . I just want to spend time alone with you.”

Aria wanted exactly the same thing. And she ached to see him smile—really smile—so she said, “And this isn’t good enough for you?”

24

PEREGRINE

You’re cruel to make me laugh right now,” Perry said, trying to keep as still as possible. Any sharp movement and his ribs felt like they’d crack.

“Sorry,” Aria said. She was smiling, her lower lip trapped between her teeth.

“Yeah . . . you look sorry.”

He couldn’t believe she was here. She had no idea what her scent alone was doing to bring him back. He’d retreated deep into his mind since Sable left. Perry wasn’t sure if it was his own doing, or if he’d been slipping into unconsciousness, but it didn’t matter. Being alert only meant pain—until she’d appeared.

“You know I’ll go anywhere with you, Perry,” Aria said. Her attention dropped to his mouth, her scent growing warmer, sweeter.

He knew what she wanted, but he hesitated. Lying there stock-still was almost more than he could handle, and he knew he looked pitiful, black and blue and swollen.

“I want to kiss you,” he said. Forget pride. He wanted her too much. “Can I?”

She nodded. “You don’t ever have to ask me that again. I’ll always say yes.”

Her weight settled lightly onto his ribs as they leaned toward each other. He expected her mouth to match the gentleness of her hands, but her tongue thrust cool and sweet between his lips, demanding as it moved over his.

His heart gave a kick in his chest, his pulse suddenly pounding. He moved without thinking, taking her face in his hands.

Pain blazed through his limbs, and he must have made some kind of sound, because Aria tensed and jerked back.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Should we stop?”

“No,” he said hoarsely. “We should not.”

Their lips found each other again, every rational thought vanishing from his mind. He couldn’t see or feel anything beyond her. He was focused completely, wholly, on more.

More of her body. Her mouth. Her taste.

Aria held back, careful not to lean against him, when all he wanted was to feel her against him. He ran his hand down her thigh and pulled her leg over his hip, drawing her closer. Aches flared across his legs and arms, but his desire went much deeper. She was all lean muscles and soft curves beneath his hands, skin as soft as her hair. The snug Guardian flight suit covered her from wrist to neck—a brutally unfair barrier. He slipped his hand beneath her shirt, nearly undone by the way she arched into him.

“Perry,” Aria said, her breath warm on his cheek.

He made a sound that he hoped passed for yes.

“Something’s going on between Hess and Sable.”

He froze.

She drew back, concern in her eyes. “Are you all right?”

He let out a breath, struggling to recover the power to think. “Yeah . . . I didn’t, um . . . I didn’t expect you to say that.”

“I wish I didn’t have to, but Loran’s coming back. He’ll be here any moment, and we should talk about this while we can.”

“Right . . . we should.” He pulled the hem of her shirt down and concentrated on Hess. Sable and Hess. “I noticed the same thing earlier. Hess is scared out of his mind. I scented it. Sable has him by the throat.”

Aria bit her bottom lip, her eyes losing their focus. “I thought Hess would have the upper hand, since he has all the resources. All the ships and weapons. Food and medicine, too. It all came from Reverie. It’s all his.”

“None of that matters anymore, Aria. He’s in our territory now. Out here he lives by our rules, and he knows that. Maybe he was different before he came out here—”

“No,” she said. “He wasn’t. He’s always been a coward. When he threw me out of Reverie, he had Guardians do it. He had me spy for him. I was the one who set up his connection with Sable. And when he abandoned Reverie, he just walked out and left all those people. If there’s any danger or conflict, he runs as far in the other direction as he can.” She looked at Perry’s arms. “He never would have done this.”

Perry’s mind returned to that room, seeing the concentration—the care—with which Sable beat him. Obviously, Sable didn’t mind violence, or taking matters into his own hands.

He had fallen silent for a few seconds, remembering. Now he jolted back to the present and found Aria staring into his eyes, her temper filling with rage.

“I’m going to kill him for this,” she said.

“No. Stay away from him, Aria. Find a way to get us out of here. Use Hess. If he likes to run from problems, let’s give him somewhere to go. Another option. But promise me you’ll stay away from Sable.”

“Perry, no.”

“Aria, yes.” Didn’t she understand? He could endure anything—except losing her.

“What if Roar was right?” she said, her eyebrows drawing together. “What if Sable is a problem until we do something? Until we stop him?”

He wanted to tell her I will. He’d handle Sable. But he couldn’t say it. Not half-naked, blue and beaten. When he vowed to take Sable’s head off, he wanted to be on his feet.

She shot away from him, her feet landing on the floor with a quiet thump. Half a second later, the door opened.

The soldier, Loran, stood at the threshold. “Time’s up,” he said to Aria.

She moved immediately. Pausing at the door, she glanced back at Perry and put a hand to her heart.

Then she stepped out, and he numbed himself again. Shutting out the pain in his muscles. Ignoring the intense ache he always felt without her.

Loran lingered a second longer, sending Perry a cutting glance before he followed.

Perry stared at the door for long minutes after they’d gone, breathing in the residual scents in the small room. Noticing how strange the soldier’s temper was, dense and heavy. A brick wall of protection. Stranger still was the glimmer of warmth behind it.

Carefully, muscles quivering, Perry rolled onto his back, absolutely certain.

Loran was more than a soldier. He wondered if Aria knew.

25

ARIA

I thought you were going to talk to him,” Loran said in hushed tones as he escorted her back through the Komodo’s corridors.

“We did talk,” she said.

It had taken all her willpower to leave Perry in that room. Even now, she wanted to turn back, but something stopped her. A nagging feeling about the man walking three paces behind her.

“That looked like more than talking.”

Aria spun, facing him. “Why do you care?”

Loran stopped short. He frowned, opening his mouth to speak, then seemed to reconsider.

“Why did you take me to see him?” she insisted. “Why did you help me?”

He looked down his slender nose at her, his lips pressed tight, like he was trying to keep himself from speaking. She was desperate to understand why he’d taken a risk for her. Why he seemed so intent whenever he was looking at her. Why his dark gray eyes seemed so achingly familiar.

He had a deep musical baritone—a beautiful voice.

And he was old enough—

He was old enough—

She couldn’t even let herself think it.

His head whipped to the side. Aria heard Kirra’s voice, her sultry purr grating and unmistakable. Was she always roaming these halls?

Loran grabbed Aria by the arm and pulled her down the corridor. He stopped before a door and pressed at a keypad, yanking her inside as it opened.

Across a small room was another door with a rounded window made of two thick panes. Blue light came through it. Electric light that moved like a living, starving thing.

Aether.

“This way.” He stepped around her, opening the door, and suddenly she was stepping outside, onto a platform framed by a metal rail, her hair lifting in the wind.

It was night. She’d had no idea. That meant she’d been in the Komodo almost two days. A sea of metal surrounded her—the roofs of the Komodo’s individual units—and funnels of Aether twisted above. She saw the red flares. They had spread so much in just the time she’d been imprisoned. Everywhere she looked—east and west, north and south—the funnels lashed down to the earth, in some areas no more than a mile off. She felt the familiar prickling in the air and heard the shrieking sounds of the funnels—the sound of the Aether charging closer.

They were running out of time.

“We need to talk,” Loran said behind her.

Aria turned and faced him. By the shifting light of the sky, she studied his face. His expression was too soft for a soldier. Too pleading for a stranger.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know where to start.”

Emotion prickled behind her eyes. Her heart was slamming. Pounding to get out of her ribs.

He didn’t know where to start, but she did.

“You’re an Aud,” she said.

“Yes.”

“You knew my mother.”

“Yes.”

She pulled in a breath and dove. “You’re my father.”

“Yes.” He looked at her, full on, the moment expanding between them. “I am.”

A cold wave swept over her.

She had guessed right.

Her back thumped against the railing as that single thought ran through her mind: she had guessed right. Finally, she’d found her father and didn’t have to wonder anymore. The curiosity she’d carried around her whole life could be put to rest, once and for all.

Her eyes filled, the world blurring, not for this man—who she knew nothing about—but for her mother, who had known him. Had Lumina loved him? Hated him? Aria’s mind suddenly filled with questions again, and here, standing before her, was the only person who could answer them.

She shook her head, confused. This wasn’t sinking in the right way. He was her father. She should feel something besides curiosity, shouldn’t she? Something more than missing her mother?

“How long have you known about me?” she heard herself ask.

“Nineteen years.”

“You knew when she was pregnant with me?”

“Yes.” He shifted his weight. “Aria, I don’t know how to do this. I’m not sure if I can think of myself as a father. I don’t even like children.”

“Did I ask you to be my father? Do I look like a child?”

“You look like her.”

That stole the breath from her lungs.

The sound of the storm rose up, filling their silence, and she thought about how much time she’d spent wondering about this man. Wanting to find him. He’d known about her the entire time and he’d done nothing about it.

Aria grabbed the railing behind her, fingers closing around the cool metal. She was spinning. Churning like the sky above.

“You were in Reverie. I know that’s how you met my mother.” Lumina had said that much. “Why did you leave her?”

Loran’s attention moved to the funnels flashing in the distance. His eyes narrowed, his black hair tossed by the wind.

Black hair like hers.

“This was a mistake,” he said.

“I was a mistake?”

“No,” he snapped. “Telling you was.” He glanced at the door. “I need to get you back.”

“Good. I want to go back.”

Loran winced, which made no sense. How could he be disappointed? He’d just said he regretted telling her.

“You’re confusing me,” she said.

“That’s not what I wanted. I wanted to explain what happened.”

“How can you ever explain?” Instantly she regretted her outburst. This was an opportunity. She should be trying to convince him to help them escape. To give her information.

She did nothing. Only stood there, breathing in and out. Nauseous and numb and shaking.

Loran turned to the door, his hand hovering over the access panel. “I have one question to ask,” he said, speaking with his back to her. “How is she?”

“Dead. My mother is dead.”

For a long moment, Loran didn’t move. Aria stared at his profile over his shoulder. She took in the way he stood there, shoulders shifting with ragged breaths, and was terrified by how much the news seemed to affect him.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last.

“You’ve been gone for nineteen years. Sorry isn’t enough.”

He pulled the door open and led her back into the Komodo, where there was no wind, and no sound, and no flash of Aether.

She moved without feeling. Without thought, until raised voices up ahead pulled her out of the fog.

Standing by the door to her chamber, two Guardians were engaged in an argument with someone inside.

“Detainees are under Hess’s jurisdiction, not Sable’s,” said one of the Guardians. “Their transport and relocation can only occur at his orders. She should be here.”

Aria couldn’t see beyond the Guardians’ backs, but she recognized Soren’s voice when he answered.

“Look, you can talk to me about protocols all day long. I’m just telling you what happened. She left half an hour ago with one of the Horns.”

She glanced at Loran. Her father. And was suddenly afraid for him. Sable had proved that no matter who crossed him, he punished ruthlessly. But Loran was stoic, all the emotion she’d just seen on his face moments ago gone.

“Where are you planning to take her?” he asked as they walked up.

As the Guardians whirled, Aria caught a glimpse of Roar and Soren watching worriedly from within the room.

Loran’s question surprised the Guardians, putting them on the defensive. They answered immediately, and in unison. “To the infirmary.”

“I’ll take her,” Loran said smoothly.

“No,” said the shorter Guardian. “We have orders.”

“It’s no trouble. I was heading there myself.”

“We were given explicit orders from our commander to transport her ourselves.”

Loran tipped his head down the corridor behind him. “Then you’d better carry them out.”

She was handed off, from Loran to the Guardians. In one swift stroke, he had avoided questions and diverted any suspicion away from himself. Clever, she had to admit. She looked back as she was led away for the second time that night.

Loran was still there, watching her.

Hess was waiting alone in the infirmary.

“Come in, Aria. Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to one of the cots.

The narrow room smelled antiseptic and familiar, its rows of cots and metal counters jogging Aria’s memory. She pictured Lumina in a doctor’s smock, her hair pulled back in a sleek bun, her demeanor simultaneously calm and alert. Lumina had made any garment elegant, and every action—sitting, standing, sneezing—graceful.

Aria didn’t see herself that way. That poised. She was messier. More impatient. More volatile. She had an artistic side, which Lumina hadn’t possessed.

Was it Loran? Did these sides of her come from him? A soldier?

Aria blinked hard, willing herself not to think about this now.

“Where’s our coffee, Hess?” she said as she pulled herself onto the cot and rested her arm on her lap. “Our little table along the Grand Canal?”

Hess crossed his arms and ignored her comment. “Soren said you wanted to see me. And he mentioned that you’re injured. I’ve brought someone to take a look at you. I have a doctor waiting outside.”

Between her time with Perry and then Loran, she had almost forgotten about the pain. Now the ache came back, originating at her bicep and rolling up her arm. “I don’t want any favors from you.”

Aria silently cursed herself. This was no time to be principled. He was crooked and heartless, but she could’ve used help for her arm. At least the pain seemed to be fading, she noticed.

Hess’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Suit yourself.” He went to a rolling chair that sat by the door and pushed it in front of Aria’s cot. Then he sat, propping his arms on his legs, and stared up at her from his lower position. Burly like Soren, he seemed to engulf the small chair.

As Aria waited for him to speak, she forced her mind to clear. He had a motive for bringing her there, but she had her own motives too. He was their best chance of escaping. Since Hess never did any favors, she’d need to convince him that helping her was in his best interest. Pushing Loran as far out of her thoughts as possible, she focused on her goal.

“I’ve dedicated my life to keeping Reverie and its citizens safe,” Hess said. “But I never expected that we would come to this. I never anticipated that I’d have to leave so many people behind. That I’d need to leave my own son. But I saw no other way. Soren wouldn’t budge, and I had no other recourse. I created a rift between us because of the actions I was forced to take. Perhaps you also suffered as a result of my decisions.”

He apologized just like Soren, vaguely, lacking any real admission of wrongdoing—a politician’s apology—but his back was rigid, and the muscles in his neck seemed ready to snap. Real regret existed inside him somewhere. Maybe even a heart.

Aria nodded and tried to look touched by what he’d just said. He was moving in the direction she wanted; she couldn’t afford to be picky.

“I can bring you on, Aria. I’m sure Soren told you. When Cinder is strong enough, and compliant, you can cross to the Still Blue with us. But I can’t accommodate your friend.”

“Peregrine?”

Hess shook his head. “No, he is a certainty. He will come. He’s essential because of his connection to the boy.”

“You mean Roar,” she said. “You can’t take Roar.”

Hess nodded. “He’s a danger. He has history with Sable.”

She couldn’t hold back a laugh. “We all have history at this point, Hess—don’t you think? And it’s not just me and Roar. There are hundreds of innocent people out there. Some of them are the people you left behind in Reverie. This is your chance. You can still help them. You can correct your mistake.”

Red patches bloomed over his neck and his cheeks. “You are being naive. There’s no way for me to accommodate any of them. Sable is accounting for everyone. There simply isn’t enough room. Besides, I cannot ask him for anything else. I can’t afford to give him anything more. He is not dealing with transitioning his people to a new environment. I am. Everything is different out here. Do you know what it’s like to feel hunger for the first time? To lose everything you’ve ever known?”

He spoke in an impassioned rush, as though a floodgate of worries had opened. But he stopped himself abruptly, like he’d said much more than he’d intended.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I know what those things are like.”

In the pause that followed, Aria’s heart thumped heavily in her chest. This was her chance to bring him over to their side. Perry’s words echoed in her mind. Let’s give him another option.

“There’s another way to the Still Blue, Hess.” She leaned forward. “You have the advantage. You have the ships. You don’t need Sable for the coordinates—”

“I have the coordinates. That’s not the issue. Control over the boy is the only thing we lack.”

“Cinder is Peregrine’s . . . not Sable’s.”

Hess drew a slow breath. She could almost hear his mind opening to other possibilities, fanning out like a deck of cards.

He wanted to believe her. She could do this. She could convince him.

“Peregrine’s tribe is roughly the same number as Sable’s. Four hundred. Think about it. Anything you need to know about being out here, about the outside world, Peregrine can help you—and you can trust him. You don’t have that with Sable. Think about afterward. When you get to the Still Blue, what do you think will happen? Do you think the two of you will suddenly become friends?”

Hess scoffed. “I don’t need friends.”

“But you don’t need an enemy, either. Don’t fool yourself into thinking Sable is anything other than that. As much as I hate you, I won’t double-cross you and neither will Peregrine. Sable will.”

Hess thought for a long moment, his eyes holding steady on her. “Tell me,” he said. “How is it that you’ve come to trust the Outsiders, and they you?”

Aria shrugged. “I started with the right one.”

Hess stared at his hands. She knew he was imagining how he could cut Sable out. She needed to convince him, but she had to be careful. Her fear of Sable dug deep into her bones, but Hess couldn’t be underestimated.

Hess lifted his head. “I want my son to come with me. I want you to help convince him that he should.”

Aria shook her head. “You need to help me this time. Not the other way around. This is your chance to choose right.”

“I have.” Hess stood and moved to the door, stopping there. “I’m not under any delusions. I know the kind of man Sable is. But I also know he won’t cross me. He needs me or he goes nowhere.”

“He needs you like he needs a meal.”

Wrong thing to say; she’d pushed too far.

Hess stiffened, sucking in a breath. Then he turned his back on her and left.

Later, with Soren snoring in the opposite cot, Aria told Roar everything. She started with what had been done to Perry.

Roar sat up and pushed his knuckles into his eyes. Long minutes passed and he didn’t say a word.

Watching him, Aria remembered the days after Liv had died.

She had considered not telling Roar. Did he really need to hear that the same man who’d killed Liv had tortured his best friend? But she’d needed to talk to him. She’d needed to release some of her anger or her mind would explode. And they were good at this, she and Roar. They had practice handing their worries back and forth.

She broke the silence herself, telling Roar about Loran, and that brought him back to her. He moved to her side and took her hand. He was careful. Gentle as he curled his fingers into hers.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

She knew he wasn’t asking about her injured hand. “Like I finally got what I’ve always wanted, but it’s not what I actually wanted.”

Roar nodded, like she’d made sense, and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Perry and I,” he said after a while, “neither one of us had the best luck with parents.”

Aria peered at him. She found him looking at her from the corner of his eye too.

She knew little about Roar’s past, considering how close they were. When he was eight, he’d come to the Tides with his grandmother, hungry and homeless, the soles of his shoes worn through. From the way Roar had always spoken, that was the moment his life began. He had never mentioned anything prior to that day—until now.

“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

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.”

Without the fear of aches lancing through his ribs every time he breathed, a feeling of intense relief swept over him. Before the doctor had left the room, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, until he heard the door slide open.

Some instinctive part of him knew it wasn’t the doctors this time. He slid off the cot, thudding to his feet as Hess and Sable entered together.

They stopped talking as they saw him, surprised to see him up.

“Good morning.” Sable’s gaze raked over Perry’s body in a methodical evaluation. His temper trilled with excitement, bright orange and pungent. The scent of obsession.

Hess only glanced at Perry, then crossed his arms and stared at his own feet.

Perry swayed unsteadily. From the corner of his eye, he could tell the bruises covering his arms and chest had darkened to deep purple.

Guardians stood by the door with guns, stun batons, cuffs, looking ready to pounce at the slightest movement.

He felt his mouth lift in amusement. What did they think he was going to do? Talon could have put up a better fight, but apparently he had a reputation. The Guardians looked—and scented—scared.

“You’re on your feet,” Sable said. “I’m surprised.”

Perry was too. Now that he’d gotten to his feet, the drugs he’d been given weren’t sitting well. Warm saliva rushed into his mouth; he was maybe five seconds from vomiting all over the floor.

“Is your arm sore?” he asked, buying himself time. He needed his stomach to settle.

Sable smiled. “Very.”

Hess cleared his throat. His posture, his expression, everything about him seemed forgettable. Trivial. “We’ll be taking you to Cinder in a moment,” he said. “He’s been distressed since he woke. He’s concerned for you, as are your other friends.”

Perry thought of Aria. If he hadn’t seen her during the night, that comment would have shaken him.

“You can avoid their suffering—and your own—if you comply,” Hess continued. “Cinder needs to acquiesce. He needs to heal and strengthen. And he needs to agree to get us through that wall. Convince him, Peregrine, or none of us stands a chance.”

Sable remained quiet as Hess spoke, his stance relaxed, his eyes half-open. He was humoring Hess. Letting him control this part of the proceedings.

Now Sable’s mouth curved into a smile. “Bring him,” he said to the men at the door.

Perry was shuttled to the room across the hall, where Cinder huddled in the corner. He looked like a newly hatched bird, folded into himself, his head bare, his eyes wide and scared.

As soon as Perry stepped inside, Cinder scampered to his feet and darted across the room. He flung himself against Perry’s chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said, through sobs. “I don’t know what to do. No matter what I do, you’re going to hate me.”

“Give us a minute.” Perry turned away from Hess and Sable, shielding Cinder with his back. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to protect Cinder or hide his own shakiness. Either way, this wasn’t for them to see. “We’re not going anywhere. Just give us some space.”

They stayed.

“It’s all right, Cinder,” Perry said. “I’m all right.” He lowered his voice, but he knew Hess and Sable could hear everything. “Remember when you burned me?” He made a fist with his scarred and battered hand. “That was the worst pain I’ve ever felt. This doesn’t even compare.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Perry smiled. “I guess not.”

Cinder wiped at his eyes and stared at Perry’s bruises. “I don’t believe you, anyway.”

“Heartwarming. Isn’t it, Hess?” Sable said. “I wish I could enjoy this further, but we’re going to need to keep things moving along.”

Perry faced them, Cinder pressing close to his side. Kirra slipped into the room, standing by the Guardians at the door. She wore an expression Perry had never seen on her face. Sympathy.

“I hope you’ve learned that I don’t make idle threats, Cinder,” Sable said. “When my rules are broken, I punish. You understand that now, don’t you?”

Trembling against Perry, Cinder nodded.

“Good. And you know what Peregrine wants you to do. You know he wants you to help us?”

“I never said that,” Perry said.

Time stopped. The look on Hess’s and Sable’s faces—and even the Guardians behind them—was worth any price Perry would need to pay.

“I like you, Peregrine,” Sable said. “You know that. But things can become much worse for you.”

“I’m not asking him to give his life for you.”

“I can be very persuasive. Let’s see. In a room not far from this one, I have your best friend, and the girl you—”

“I’ll do it!” Cinder cried out. “I’ll do what you say!” He looked up at Perry, his tears flowing again. “I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

Perry held him close. Cinder kept saying he was sorry, when he was the one who deserved the apologies. From Perry. From Sable and Hess, and everyone. Perry wanted to tell him that, but his vocal cords felt like they’d been clamped shut.

Sable moved to the door. He stopped there, his lips pulled in a satisfied smile. He had what he wanted. “Get the boy strong, Hess. Start him on the treatments we discussed—all of them. We move to the coast now.”

“Not yet,” Hess protested. “We can’t attempt the crossing until the boy is ready. Even with the accelerated therapy programs, he’ll need time to recover his strength, and we can’t mobilize the Komodo in this storm. We stay here and wait for it to pass while the boy heals.”

“This storm will never pass,” Sable said. “We’ll be in a better position on the coast. Poised to make the crossing once Cinder is ready.”

Hess’s face turned red. “Moving this unit requires foresight. There are preparations, safety checks, dangers to be considered that surpass your understanding. Your impatience is going to ruin our chances of surviving.”

Perry sensed the energy in the room refocus, shifting to their altercation. Kirra caught his eye. She saw it too: Hess and Sable would eventually collide. Cinder still trembled next to him.

“We act now, or we die,” Sable said.

“This ship is mine, Sable. I command it.”

Sable was silent for a beat, his pale eyes sparkling. “You’re making a mistake,” he said, and then stepped outside.

On Hess’s orders, Guardians pulled Cinder out of Perry’s arms. He struggled weakly, questions pouring out of him. “Where are you taking me? Why can’t I stay with Perry?”

Another Guardian grabbed Perry by the arm. Perry reacted instantly, pushing him into the wall. He wrapped his hand around the Guardian’s throat, pinning him. Two men drew their guns, but Perry held on, staring into the Dweller’s terrified eyes.

“Are you finished yet?” Hess asked.

“No.” He was nowhere near finished, but he forced himself to release the man and step back. “It’ll be all right,” he said to Cinder. “I promise.” Then he let the Guardians lead him back to his room across the hall.

“Wait outside,” Hess said to his men. Then he followed Perry into the room.

The door closed, leaving them alone.

Hess planted his feet and drew his shoulders back, leveling Perry with a cold stare. “If my men hear any sign of a struggle, they will come in here and shoot you.”

Perry slumped against the cot. “I could kill you silently if I wanted to.” His body hadn’t liked the burst of strength he’d used moments ago. His muscles quivered and chills raced up his back, nausea and fury battling inside him.

“So violent,” Hess said, shaking his head. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you broke into my Pod and shattered my son’s jaw.”

“He attacked Aria. You’re lucky that’s all I did.”

Hess lifted his chin, defiant like Soren, but his temper brought blue flashes to the edges of Perry’s vision. Hess feared him. Perry was beaten, unarmed, barefoot, but Hess was still afraid.

“I wouldn’t have let Sable hurt Aria,” Hess said.

“Then you should have spoken up.”

“You shouldn’t have made this so difficult! As a leader, you must know that the individual serves the group. The sacrifice of one man for the safety of many cannot be so different to your kind.”

“It isn’t.”

“Then why have you resisted?”

Perry didn’t answer at first. He didn’t want to have this conversation with a man he didn’t respect. But he needed to say what he felt aloud—for himself. It was time to accept what he’d known for weeks.

“I knew there’d be no chance for anyone without his ability. But I had to let him decide his own fate.” Perry could have ordered Cinder; the boy would’ve done anything he asked. But this way, Perry hoped, Cinder would feel like he’d kept some small sense of control over his own life. Cinder had been pressured, but he’d still made the choice in the end.

Hess made a huffing sound. “You’re his leader. You should have commanded him.”

Perry shrugged. “We see things differently.”

“How can you pretend to be so noble? Look at you. Look at what Sable’s done to you.”

“I don’t pretend, and these bruises are nothing compared to what Sable will get in return.”

Saying those words, the hunger for revenge opened up inside him, terrifying and powerful. He was no different from Roar. He’d only ignored the urge. But he couldn’t anymore.

Hess ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Your problem is that you want to challenge Sable forcibly. This is not a test of strength! We are not in the medieval era! It is about leverage and strategy.” He waved a hand, growing more anxious. “Look around you. I have control of everything. The Komodo. The fleet of Hovers outside. All the medicine, food, and weapons. I gave Sable some pistols and stun batons, but they are toys compared to what I have kept locked away. Medicines. Food. Communications. They are all under me. We go nowhere and do nothing unless I command it.”

“You left people off your list,” Perry said.

“Nonsense. They’re mine too,” Hess spat.

“You’re sure?”

“I have been a commander far longer than you’ve been alive, Outsider. My pilots and Guardians are highly trained. If you think Sable’s going to—”

The blare of an alarm exploded into the chamber. Hess’s eyes snapped up to the speakers.

Perry’s balance faltered as the floor kicked up, a feeling like falling in reverse. He jumped off the cot as the room continued to rise in upward lurches. He found his balance and met Hess’s shocked gaze just before Hess fled the room.

The Komodo was on the move.

27

ARIA

How long have we been here?” Aria asked. “In the Komodo?”

“Forty-eight hours, give or take,” Soren said. “Why?”

“I had forgotten it’s mobile,” she said.

They had their established places in the room now. Soren on the lower bunk nearest the door. Her on the other. Roar alternated between sitting beside her and pacing the small space between the beds.

The Komodo had been moving for an hour; the constant vibration reminded her of train rides in the Realms but far rougher. Occasionally, the chamber jerked sharply one way or another. For the first ten minutes, she’d grasped the bed frame and braced herself when that happened. After a particularly violent jolt, she’d decided not to let go.

“Does this thing have square wheels?” Roar muttered beside her.

“Wheels are circular by definition,” Soren said. “But, no, the wheels aren’t square. They’re on a continuous track with advanced suspension designed for maneuverability and tactical strength, not for bursts of speed.”

Roar glanced at her, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. “Did you get any of that?”

She shook her head. “Not much. Soren, what did you just say?”

Soren sighed, exasperated. “This thing weighs . . . I don’t even know how many tons. It weighs a lot. Moving it is like moving a small city. To do that efficiently over any kind of terrain, each of its segments sits on a rail system—wheels that roll on a track, sort of like old tanks. The track distributes the weight over a large area and makes us stable, so you shouldn’t worry that we’ll tip over. We won’t. The Komodo can climb over anything. What you should worry about is the fact that they’re forcing a workhorse to be a racehorse.”

“I liked it better when I didn’t understand him,” Roar said.

“They’re trying to outrun the Aether storm,” Aria said, but that made no sense. Hadn’t Loran told her that running was futile? Hadn’t he said that Hess recommended weathering the storm in place?

Soren snorted. “That’s not going to happen. The Komodo doesn’t run; it crawls. My father might be an idiot, but he isn’t stupid. He wouldn’t have issued the order to move during a storm. The Komodo is more vulnerable when it’s mobile, since it makes a bigger target for the funnels.”

The answer clicked in Aria’s mind. “Sable overpowered the ship. Either that or he’s forcing Hess to move.”

“Neither one of those is good for us,” Soren said.

Aria looked up sharply. The lights in the chamber flickered on and off in an erratic rhythm.

Soren waved his hands in a there you go gesture and they fell quiet, listening to the deep rumble of the engine.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you,” Roar said to her after a little while, “for getting us out of Rim.”

She saw his handsome face in snatches between moments of darkness, and knew he was remembering that horrible night. Liv thudding onto the stones of the balcony. Their plummet into the Snake River. “You’re welcome.”

“Tough fall we had.”

“It was,” Aria said. “But we landed in one piece.”

Roar stared at her intensely. His eyes welled with tears, and he looked like he was concentrating. Like he was trying to determine if he actually was in one piece.

She put a hand on his arm. “We did . . . right?”

Roar blinked. He gave a slight nod. “There are moments I think so.”

Aria squeezed his arm, smiling. The possibility of wholeness was all she wanted for him.

Maybe his grief was like her wounded arm. Slowly healing. Gradually becoming less consuming as life delivered other worries and other joys. Other sources of pain and happiness. She wanted that for him. More life. More happiness.

Roar’s mouth pulled into a smile—a beautiful smile she hadn’t seen in weeks.

“Beautiful, huh?”

She drew her hand away, giving him a small push on the shoulder. “Don’t act surprised.”

“I’m not. Always nice to be reminded, though.”

“I give up,” Soren said, shaking his head. “Congratulations. You two are the first code I can’t break.”

“Just trying to see some good in the bad,” Roar said.

“You want good news?” Soren said. “I’ve got some for you. If the Komodo has a complete breakdown because of this Aether storm and it collapses and cracks open and we don’t die first, we might actually have a chance of escaping.”

Roar narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “I’d take those odds.”

Aria swept her hair forward, twisting it around her finger. “So would I.” She wanted the lights to hold steady. She wanted a shower. Coffee. A thick, soft blanket. And Perry, most of all. “If the Komodo has a complete breakdown, then I might too. Wait . . . I already did that.” She smiled at Roar. “My breakdown is out of the way.”

He lifted his eyebrows, smiling back. “You’re right. That is good news.”

A sudden bone-jarring jolt sent her flying. Her back smacked into the wall, she cried out in surprise, and Roar’s hand clamped down on her wrist as blackness flooded the chamber.

28

PEREGRINE

As the Komodo shuddered to a halt, Perry sat up on the cot and counted off the seconds in total darkness.

Five.

Ten.

Fifteen.

That was enough sitting around for him.

He rose from the cot, his bare feet settling silently on the cold floor. His eyes needed little light in order to see, but there was none—not a single glowing point. Just an impossible blackness, as thick and heavy as iron.

He found the wall and followed it, feeling his way to the door. He stopped and listened. Muffled sounds came from outside—two men, arguing.

Guardians or Horns, he couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter.

He briefly considered trying to find a weapon but abandoned the idea. His chamber contained only a few towels and a cot that was bolted to the floor. He was dressed in loose-fitting pants only; he hadn’t even been given shoes or a shirt for fear he’d turn them into weapons. He might have attempted exactly that if he’d had either, but with nothing at his disposal, he’d just have to improvise.

Perry’s hands drifted over the control panel set in the wall beside the door. Hess and others had used it to come and go, but with no power, the panel was useless—which meant the locking mechanism might be useless as well.

He familiarized himself with the release bar for a few seconds. Then he unlatched it and pulled. The door slid open.

In the corridor, two Guardians were carrying on a panicked exchange. Perry spotted them easily, as both were using the red sighting lasers on their pistols for illumination. One man stood only steps away, his back to Perry; the other stood farther down the corridor. They broke off sharply at the sound of the opening door.

“What was that?” said the closest Guardian, wheeling around and searching the darkness.

The thin beam of red light from the other man’s weapon swept toward Perry.

“Stop! Don’t move!” he yelled.

No chance of that. Perry drove his legs the few short steps to the nearest Guardian. As he reached the man, he thought better of delivering a punch with swollen knuckles and fingers. He slammed his elbow across the Guardian’s face, pain ripping through his muscles. Then he grabbed the weapon and drove the stock into the man’s stomach.

The Guardian fell, smacking to the floor.

Down the hall, the other man opened fire.

A loud metallic ting exploded behind Perry. He dropped to his knees, shouldering the gun as he aimed for the Guardian’s legs and squeezed the trigger.

Nothing. The safety switch—something he never had to consider with a bow. He flipped it, pressed the trigger again, and didn’t miss.

Standing, he flew down the corridor, bursting with the need to take action. To find Cinder, Aria, Roar. With Hess and Sable chin-deep in a crisis, this was their chance of escaping.

Halfway down the corridor, a high-powered flashlight blinded him. He brought a hand up, shielding his aching eyes, blinking until he saw Hess appear at the far end.

Half a dozen Guardians stood with him, guns raised, demanding that Perry surrender his weapon.

Outnumbered and outgunned, Perry let out a curse and tossed the gun to the floor.

Hess came forward, his gaze flicking to the Guardians Perry had overpowered. “You make yourself very hard to like, Outsider.” The bright light swung to the end of the corridor. “Get them to the infirmary,” Hess commanded the men behind him. Then to Perry, he said, “We have only minutes. Come. Quickly.”

Having no other option, Perry followed. Guardians fell in behind him as Hess led the way, hurrying through the tunnels of the Komodo. Perry felt like tearing the walls down with his hands. For a few moments there, he’d felt hope, and a taste of freedom.

Far sooner than he expected, Hess led him into a chamber. He found himself staring at Aria, Roar, and Soren, Hess’s flashlight moving from one stunned face to the other.

Neither Roar nor Soren hid their shock when they saw the dark welts over Perry’s arms and chest. Shame made his face burn, but Aria moved to his side, weaving her fingers gently through his, her touch bolstering him.

Hess posted his men outside, and waited until the door closed before he spoke. “This will need to be brief, which means you listen unless I ask you to speak.” He paused and they drew into a tighter circle, waiting for him to continue. Soren was smiling, failing to hide his pride. Hess acknowledged his son with a nod, and then lowered the beam to their feet, creating a pool of light across the floor.

“If we are to ally ourselves,” Hess said, “if I am to carry your tribe to the Still Blue, Peregrine, Sable will need to be expelled. His men will need to be thrust from this ship and my fleet of Hovers. That will require planning and coordination to execute successfully.”

Perry felt Aria shift beside him. This was what they’d expected. Sable was taking control. Hess couldn’t ignore it any longer. He was changing sides. “How long do you need, Hess?”

“Eight hours. We’ll move in the morning.”

“No. That’s too long.”

“You’re making demands already, Peregrine?”

“You’ve already taken a hit. Sable is commanding your men. He’ll take them all if you give him the time.”

“You think I don’t know that? That is precisely why I need to know how deep he has already struck before we proceed. A coup won’t work unless I can trust those who enact it. In eight hours, when everything is in place, we’ll leave the Komodo behind and take the Hovers.”

“Give me a knife,” Roar said. “I’ll end this in ten minutes.”

“Do you think I haven’t considered that?” Hess said. “What do you think the Horns would do if Sable were slain? Lay down their weapons and surrender?”

Perry knew they wouldn’t. With their survival at stake, they would stand and fight with or without Sable. In order for the Tides to be in, the Horns needed to be out—all of them. “Two hours, Hess.”

“Impossible. I need time to coordinate the effort, or he’ll know. He watches everything. He is shrewd, manipulative, and organized. He is a nightmare. A demon that wears a smile as he sinks his fangs into you.”

“He’s human,” Perry said. “I’ll prove it to you when I cut out his heart.”

The comment seemed to get through to Hess. His brow furrowed in concentration; his small eyes honed in on Perry. “Four hours. Not a minute less.”

Perry nodded, accepting the compromise. He glanced at Roar and Aria, wanting to get them out of there now, but Sable couldn’t suspect anything. That meant they needed to stay put.

“What about this meeting?” Aria asked. “What if he finds out about us?”

“Right now,” Hess said, “we are experiencing an unfortunate mechanical malfunction caused by an Aether storm. Coincidentally, that has happened while Sable and most of his men happen to be in other units of the Komodo. The few Horns who are in this one are in areas suffering from complete power outages. They’re being watched by my men with night-vision eyewear as they fumble about in the dark.”

“You staged this entire thing?” Aria asked.

“Sable is deep on the inside. It was the only way.” Hess turned the flashlight on Perry. “The only thing I didn’t account for was natural night vision among my captives. You could have ruined everything if I hadn’t intercepted you.”

Perry said nothing. Planning the Komodo’s breakdown so they could meet in secret was a smart move. He only hoped Hess could continue to outmaneuver Sable. “You have to stay away from him. Sable will know if you plan to betray him, just as I’d know.”

Hess waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll take care of it.”

“You don’t understand. He will scent your distrust. Your intention to betray him.”

“I said I will take care of it,” Hess repeated. “Four hours. No one even thinks about leaving until then. And I need an assurance from you, Peregrine. If I do this, you promise me you’ll get Cinder to break through that wall. You make sure he does it, or we have no deal.”

Perry felt sick, but he held Hess’s gaze. “You have my word.”

The tension eased from Hess’s face. “Good.”

Aria inched closer. Perry felt her arm rest against his, but he couldn’t look at her. He didn’t want to see her disappointment—or her approval. Barely a second had passed and he already wanted to unmake his own promise.

“Is that all?” Hess said.

“No,” Perry said. “I’m going to need some clothes.” He wanted his own clothes. The reassuring weight and toughness of leather and wool. But he’d settle for anything that would keep the bruises Sable had given him out of sight.

Hess nodded. “Of course.”

Emergency lights flickered on, a deep crimson color washing over the small room.

“Hurry!” Hess said. “We’re out of time. Back to your chamber!”

Perry pulled Aria to his chest, wrapping his aching arms around her. He caught Roar’s eye. “Keep her safe.”

Roar nodded. “Of course. With my life.”

Perry pressed a kiss to the top of Aria’s head; then he plunged back through the corridors until he was imprisoned again.

29

ARIA

How much time is left, Soren?” Roar asked.

“When you asked me that five minutes ago, I guessed three hours.”

“What’s your guess now, Soren?”

“Two hours and fifty-five minutes, Roar.”

Roar dropped his head, peering at Aria through a fringe of brown hair. “I knew he was going to say that.”

She forced a smile, feeling restless too. Three more hours until she was free of this room and back with Perry.

The Komodo was moving again, but at a slower pace. She imagined what the caravan would look like from outside: uncoiled, stretched out like a centipede under a sky full of Aether funnels. Every few minutes, the room shifted without warning and she braced, expecting it to stop, but the Komodo kept grinding along.

“You know what I want to know?” Soren said from the other bunk. “Why neither one of you is talking about Perry. Is torture normal out here? Is it like, ‘Yeah, I was brutalized today. Kind of boring. What about you—what did you do?’”

“I told Roar about it earlier,” Aria admitted.

“Did you keep it from me because of my father? Was he part of it?”

“No, Sable did it. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think you’d care. You always act like you hate Perry.”

Soren nodded. “True. I do hate him.” He leaned over his legs and shoved his hands into his hair. “What am I thinking? What are any of us thinking?”

“I’m thinking about getting out of this room,” Aria said.

Roar pointed between them. “Our thoughts are in harmony.”

“I’m thinking this,” Soren said. “Sable killed Perry’s sister. Perry killed his own brother. My father and Sable both left thousands of their people to die. I’m dependent on drugs to keep me sane. And we’re the ones who are trying to start over? How are we the best hope for a new world?”

“Because we’re the only ones left,” Aria said. Then she realized she could do better. “We all have the potential to do terrible things, Soren. But we also have the potential to overcome our mistakes. I need to believe that. What point is there otherwise?”

She had to believe Hess was capable of redeeming himself. They were depending on him.

Soren lay back on his cot. He crossed his arms over his head, sighing dramatically. “What point is there indeed.”

Roar also lay down, resting his head on Aria’s lap. He closed his eyes, a small line of tension forming between his dark eyebrows. That line was new, since Liv’s death.

Aria wanted to smooth it with her finger, but she didn’t. It wouldn’t make him feel any better, and what she gave to Roar could only come up to a point. No matter how much she loved him, that line of tension wasn’t hers to fix.

Her thoughts turned to Loran. In hours, she’d be leaving him behind. That didn’t feel right, but as Sable’s closest adviser, he couldn’t know what they planned to do, either. She shook her head at herself. Why did she care? She didn’t owe him anything.

“If we get to the Still Blue,” Soren said, “we should look at how to make more people like you, Aria.”

She laughed. “Make more people like me? You mean half-breeds?”

“No. I mean people who are forgiving and optimistic and things like that.”

Aria smiled at the irony. Her thoughts about her father hadn’t exactly been forgiving or optimistic. “Thank you, Soren. That is the nicest indirect compliment I’ve ever received.”

Roar smiled, his eyes still closed. “I’m going to miss these talks.” The line between his eyebrows was almost, almost gone.

He sat up at the sound of voices out in the corridor.

The door opened, revealing a pair of Horn soldiers. “Come,” said the shorter man. “We have orders to bring you to Loran.”

Aria didn’t remember making a decision to follow them. One second she was sitting on the cot next to Roar; the next she was moving through the halls.

The sound of people running drifted to her ears, echoing from somewhere distant. Were Hess and his men organizing the overthrow? Something didn’t feel right.

“What does Loran want from me?” she asked.

“He gives us orders. We follow them,” said the shorter Horn soldier. A casual answer, but tension laced his voice.

Up ahead, two Guardians came into view. They paused, doing a double take when they saw her.

Aria recognized them as the two men who had come to escort her to Hess—the same men whose suspicion Loran had deftly evaded.

“What are you doing? Where are you taking her?” they asked, voices raised in alarm.

The Horn soldiers drew their guns before Aria knew what was happening. They fired at the Guardians, the sound sending a stab of pain through Aria’s ears. The Guardians reacted, diving for cover around the bend in the corridor.

The shorter Horn soldier yelled, “Go! Go! Go!” The two soldiers rushed ahead, pursuing the Guardians.

Aria bolted in the other direction.

“Stop!”

She froze, peering behind her.

The shorter man stood at the end of the corridor, aiming his gun at her. “Stay right here, and don’t move!”

As soon as he disappeared, she sprinted away.

When she’d left them far enough behind, she forced herself to slow down and walk calmly. Footsteps thundered closer. Her heart seized as a pair of Guardians came running with drawn guns. Panic blazed through her, but they shot right past, their frantic exchange pricking to her ears.

“What was that? Did Hess order an early move?”

“I don’t know. I’ve got no comm.”

“Whose orders are we supposed to be following?”

“I said I don’t know!”

She backtracked to her chamber, her pulse hammering. Instinct told her that Sable had moved first—just as Perry had predicted. Why else would the Horns have fired at the Dwellers back there? Sable must have learned about Hess’s plan and preempted him.

The corridors bustled with activity the closer she came to her chamber. Horn soldiers jogged past, shaking the Komodo, so focused they barely gave her a passing glance. By contrast, the Guardians who streamed through the halls looked stunned and confused.

Her composure returning, she broke her objectives down. Get Roar and Soren. Find Perry and Cinder. Leave the Komodo as far behind as she could.

She’d almost reached the chamber when Loran appeared at the end of the corridor, rushing her way. His eyes locked sharply with hers, like she’d shouted his name. “I’ll meet you outside,” he told the men accompanying him.

Aria tried to catch her breath as he walked up. She wanted to run away. Or ask him the millions of questions that swirled in her mind. She didn’t do either. Her legs wouldn’t move. Her lips wouldn’t form a single word.

In the pause that spread between them, she realized the Komodo had stopped. Any doubt that Sable had staged a coup of his own vanished.

“I sent my men for you,” Loran said.

“I didn’t like them. They were shooting Guardians.”

“I was trying to help you,” he returned, frustration adding a rough edge to his voice. “The Hovers are leaving. Peregrine and Cinder are already outside. You need to come with me right now.”

“What about Roar? What about Soren?”

“My allegiance is to Sable, Aria.”

“Yes, I know, Father. Mine is not.”

Loran shifted his weight, shadows falling over his gray eyes. Aria wished she could read the emotion in them. She wished she hadn’t just spat father at him, like it was an insult. “Are you going to force me to come with you?” she asked.

“No—I’m not.” He glanced down the hall and then shifted closer. “I want a chance to know you, Aria,” he said, low and urgent. “I’m trying to prove I deserve it.”

“And I’m trying to believe you!” Her voice rose, sounding shrill and unfamiliar to her own ears. She backed down the hall, suddenly desperate to retreat.

Loran didn’t stop her.

He watched as she spun and sprinted away.

30

PEREGRINE

Move, Tider! Hurry up!”

Struck between the shoulders, Perry stumbled forward, crashing into a man rushing the other way. Pain tore through him, sharpest in his ribs. He recovered his balance and glanced back.

The man escorting him out of the Komodo was a giant. Perry’s height, but built like a mountain, his eyebrows pierced with metal studs. “You want to untie my hands? I’d walk faster with them free.”

The giant sneered. “You think I’m an idiot? Shut up and keep moving.”

Slowing his steps as much as he could, Perry scanned every hall and chamber for Aria and Roar. For Cinder. Sable’s men poured through the narrow halls, but he saw far fewer of Hess’s men.

Perry passed a room with a group of Guardians. They looked panicked and lost, like the rest of the world shared a secret. He shook his head. His gut feeling had been dead-on. Sable had beaten Hess at his own game. Perry had known as soon as the giant had stepped into his chamber minutes ago.

“Get up, maggot,” the Horn soldier had taunted, flinging a bundle of ragged clothes at Perry. “Put those on. It’s time to go.”

It had been far too soon. Only an hour had passed, not the four Hess said he’d needed.

Now the giant’s voice boomed at Perry’s back. “Faster! Move your feet, or I’ll knock you out and drag you outside!”

Perry didn’t see how that would help. He’d be harder to carry; that seemed obvious.

Abruptly, the giant pushed him through a door. Perry stumbled halfway down a ramp before it hit him: after days in the Komodo, he was finally outside.

He pulled the cool air into his lungs as he took a few steps over the loose dirt. The night smelled of smoke from fires that smoldered on the distant hills. His skin prickled with the familiar feel of the Aether. The sky churned red and blue and terrifying—a fearsome sight, but worlds better than being trapped in a small chamber.

Hovers lined the field before him, just as when they’d arrived, but the Komodo looked different from the coiled snake he’d seen before. Now it stretched backward and forward, unspooled, its links running in a straight line.

“Peregrine!”

Sable stood with a cluster of men a short distance away. Perry didn’t have to be pushed to walk over to him.

“Ready to see the Still Blue?” Sable smiled and lifted a hand to the swirling sky. “Eager to leave all this behind?”

“Where are they?” Perry asked, anger burning in his blood.

“Cinder is loaded up and waiting for you. You’ll see him in a moment. As for the others . . . Roar is an aggravation at best, but only a fool would leave behind such a pretty girl as Aria. She’ll be here soon. When this is all behind us, I hope to get to know her better.”

“If you touch her, I will rip you to pieces with my hands.”

Sable laughed. “If they weren’t tied behind your back, that might actually concern me. Take him,” he said to the giant, who hauled Perry away.

Across the field, hundreds of people loaded crates onto Hovers. They were a mix of Horns who seemed to know little about preparing Hovers, Guardians who were trying to help, and Guardians who had no idea what was happening. Angry shouts volleyed back and forth. Total chaos.

As the giant pushed him toward a Dragonwing, he noticed armed men along the roofline of the Komodo. Everywhere he looked, he saw firepower. Dwellers and Outsiders taking sniper positions. He couldn’t tell whether they were working together or in opposition. It didn’t seem clear to them, either.

He climbed into the Hovercraft, taking a final look across the crowds massed along the runway, hoping to see Aria and Roar.

“Keep going, Tider,” said the giant. He struck Perry between the shoulder blades, sending him stumbling into the Dragonwing.

Perry moved to the cockpit. Cinder slumped in one of the four seats, looking almost asleep. He’d been given warm clothes, and a gray cap fitted snugly over his head. Off the Dweller drugs, he already looked healthier than hours earlier.

When he saw Perry, Cinder’s eyes flared with relief. “They told me you were coming. What took you so long?”

“Damn good question,” growled the giant. He pushed Perry into the seat beside Cinder.

A Dweller peered back from the pilot seat, his face beaded with sweat and drawn with fear—no doubt owing to the gun pointed at his head by the man in the adjacent seat.

“If it isn’t Peregrine of the Tides.” The man with the gun leered, showing a mouthful of brown teeth as he smiled. “You don’t look like all that much.”

“He isn’t,” said the giant.

“Heard you got your wings clipped,” said Brown Teeth, his pistol never leaving the pilot’s head.

As they laughed, Perry took in the situation, noticing the pilot’s hands were free. They’d have to be, for him to fly the Hover. Perry drew a breath, hoping to find something in his temper besides fear.

“I’m going to tie your feet,” said the giant. “If you try to kick me, I will put a bullet through your foot, and then I’ll start hurting you. Understand?”

“I understand,” Perry said, though he didn’t really.

When the giant knelt, he kicked.

The giant’s head whipped back, his teeth snapping. He fell in a massive heap, wedged in the aisle between the seats.

The pilot reacted quickly, shoving away the Horn’s pistol. The soldier lunged, and the two men fell on each other, a jumble of gray and black wrestling in the close space in front of the controls.

Perry stood, hunching in the low cabin.

“What are you going to do?” Cinder asked.

“I don’t know yet.” Perry didn’t see a knife or tool he could use to free his hands. His options limited, he turned back to the fight and waited. When he saw his opening, he drove his knee into the Horn soldier’s head.

The man slumped, staggered for a long second. Enough time for the pilot to scramble to the floor and grab the fallen pistol.

He swung the weapon from Perry to the Horn soldier. His lip bled freely, dripping onto his gray uniform, and fear iced his temper, sharp and white at the edges of Perry’s vision.

“Easy. Easy, Dweller.” Perry could almost hear the pilot’s struggle. Friend or foe? Enemy or ally?

“You’re their leader,” he said, through labored breaths.

For a second, Perry thought he was being mistaken for Sable. Then he realized he wasn’t. The pilot knew of him.

“That’s right. I’m going to help,” he said, keeping his voice steady. “But I need my hands. I need you to cut me loose. . . . Can you do that?”

31

ARIA

As Aria sprinted through the narrow corridors, she watched the Komodo unravel. Dwellers and Horns pushed past her in a frenzy, their panicked voices carrying to her ears. No one knew what was happening. Only one thing was clear: the Hovers were leaving, and everyone was desperate to reach them.

Except her.

She ran, darting past people, finally reaching her chamber. The door was open. She shot inside and stared at the empty bunks.

No Soren or Roar.

Aria cursed. Where were they? She dove back into the corridors. Rounding a corner, she almost ran smack into Roar.

He yanked her close, his voice soft but scolding. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“How did you get out?” she asked.

“Really?” Soren barely slowed to a jog. “You two can’t talk about this later?”

Roar reached behind his back and handed her a pistol. “Hess came for us,” he said, answering her question. “He’s planning something. He’s trying to put a stop to Sable.”

Soren took them to a heavy door, swinging it open. A cool gust swept over her as she darted outside, free of the Komodo at last.

Crowds milled by the fleet of Hovers. Guardians and Horns postured around each other, occupying the same field but standing separate, groups of gray and black. Their voices were low and warning, snarls before the bite. Funnels of Aether flashed in all directions, scoring bright lines down the night sky, but the Komodo sat under a pocket of less-threatening currents—for now.

“Where’s Perry?” she asked as they moved into the throng. She couldn’t see over the heads around her.

Roar scanned the field, shaking his head. “I don’t see him. He’s probably in a Hover already with Cinder. But I know who can tell us.”

Sable.

A sudden cry rose from the crowd, and the earth began to tremble, vibrating beneath her feet. She looked up, wondering if she’d misjudged the Aether. Blue and fire-red tempests swirled above, but she didn’t see any funnels forming.

“The Komodo!” Soren yelled.

Aria didn’t understand. People scattered away, shouting as they searched for cover. As the crowd around her thinned, she saw the Komodo—saw segments of it. The command center had disengaged into individual units. Black and hunched and beetle-like, each huge segment rolled on their tracks, the roar of their engines shaking the air.

Aria’s head whipped to the other end of the clearing. The Komodo units were surrounding the runway. On top of each one, she saw gun turrets rising up, their barrels aiming at the Hovers, and snipers now stood in perches along the rooflines.

Hess. He wasn’t going to let Sable take them without a fight.

Aria grabbed Soren’s arm. “This is your father’s plan? To shoot us?”

He shook his head. “Not us. He has to send a message to Sable.”

“We’re all together, Soren! Look around you.”

“It could work! But he better be prepared to—”

“Sable!” Hess yelled.

At the sound of his father’s raised voice, Soren took off running. Aria followed, threading through the crowd, hoping Roar was still behind her.

She broke through the press and arrived at the edge of a circle of people. Hess stood at the center. Alone.

He wore full military dress. He held a gun, and he was also wearing a Smarteye.

“Sable!” he yelled again, searching the people around him. “I know you’re here! Pay attention! Watch what happens when you force my hand!”

An explosion sent Aria flying backward. She fell to the dirt, the wind rushing out of her lungs, stunning her for an instant that went on forever. She rolled into a ball and slammed her hands over her ears as she gasped, struggling to recover her breath. The sound of the explosion had blown out her eardrums, and pain lanced into her skull. She couldn’t hear herself coughing. She heard nothing but the rush of her own blood, her own heartbeat.

Someone grabbed her arm. She lurched away, then saw that it was Roar. Fire reflected in his dark eyes as he spoke words she couldn’t hear. A massive cloud of black smoke rose behind him, blocking out the Aether.

He took her arm and helped her up. A gust of hot air blew a pungent, chemical reek into her face, stinging her eyes. At the far end of the fleet, fire engulfed a Dragonwing—part of the craft already scorched down to its steel ribs.

Roar’s grip on her arm tightened. “Stay here. Stay with Soren. I’m going to find Perry. Aria, can you hear me?”

She nodded. His voice was faint, but she heard him. Not only what he said but also what he meant.

Roar had to find out if Perry was in the Dragonwing covered in flames.

Roar’s eyes moved past her as Hess screamed again.

“Come forward, Sable! Come forward, or I will destroy every one of them! They’re my ships! I will not let you have them!”

“Yes,” Soren said. “Pressure him.”

“Calm yourself, Hess. I’m coming.”

The sound of Sable’s voice rooted Aria—and everyone—in place.

“Where are you?” Hess searched the ring of people around him. “Come forward, coward!”

Aria spotted Sable as he slipped past a few of his soldiers. “I’m right here.” He gestured to the burning Hovercraft as he approached Hess. “I would have come without all of that.”

Panic crept over Aria with every step he took. He wore a knife at his belt. But Hess had a gun.

She sensed movement behind her. Horn soldiers closed in, forming a wall around them. Roar caught her eye and shook his head. It was too late.

In seconds, Aria felt a gun press against her spine.

Kirra smiled and said, “Hi.”

They were stripped of their weapons. Her, Roar, and Soren. Trapped, all three of them. Again.

“We were going to do this together, Sable,” Hess said. “That was the arrangement we made.”

Sable measured Hess in that same quiet way Perry had. The way of Scires. The flames from the exploded Dragonwing roared in the silence, the fire a bright spot against the night.

Perry wasn’t in that Hover, she told herself. He couldn’t be.

“Together?” Sable said. “Is that why you were planning to betray me?”

“You gave me no choice. We made a deal, and you broke it. Tell your people to stand down. We leave on my orders, like we planned, or no one leaves. I’ll level every one of the Hovers to the ground.”

Sable took a step toward Hess. “Yes, you’ve said that.”

Hess lifted his gun. “Don’t come any closer.”

“I always keep my word,” Sable said, still advancing in deliberate steps. “I didn’t break our deal. You only believe that I was going to.”

Aria noticed the crowd loosening. People dropped back, responding to some instinctive signal.

“I will shoot you,” Hess said.

“Yes, yes, yes, do it!” Soren chanted at her side.

Time slowed, every second lasting an eternity. Aria couldn’t move, couldn’t utter a sound.

“If you shoot me,” said Sable, “then my men will cut you down next. That doesn’t sound like a solution, does it? It sounds very similar to what you’re proposing . . . all or nothing. Lower your gun, Hess. You got what you wanted. We’re at a stalemate, and we both know you won’t pull that trigger.”

“You’re wrong about that,” said Hess. “Stand back.”

“Shoot him!” Soren screamed.

Sable’s eyes snapped to Soren. “Bring him here,” he said to his guards.

Hess found Soren in the crowd, his face transforming with fear. Then everything happened at once.

Soren yelled, “No!”

Sable shot forward in a flash, drawing his knife and slashing it across Hess’s chest. Hess rocked back, his scream shrill as it broke into the air.

The wound was shallow, grazing instead of piercing, but to a man who’d never known real pain, it was debilitating.

Hess gasped, eyes glazing as the agony paralyzed him.

Sable moved in again.

He drove the knife into Hess’s stomach and ripped downward.

Hess sank to his knees, his flesh and blood spilling through skin and uniform, pouring onto the earth.

32

PEREGRINE

Perry saw everything.

Taller than everyone in front of him, he had a clear view of Sable as he flayed Hess open.

Time came to a stop as Hess crumpled, his blood darkening the dusty earth. The moment of absolute silence felt familiar, reminding Perry of when he’d slain Vale. Power felt tangible. Its shift unmistakable. Something had just ended, and something had just begun, and every person there sensed it: a change as startling and inevitable as the first drops of rain.

Soren’s scream broke the spell, a deeper sound than his father’s final cry, low and anguished, springing from his gut. Then gunfire broke out, sudden and everywhere.

Perry shot forward, sprinting toward Aria and Roar. Horns and Dwellers fired at each other as they ran for the Komodo, for Hovers, for any place to take cover. Bodies fell lifeless to the ground. Ten, then twenty, cut down in seconds.

“Aria!” he yelled, pushing through the stampede. She stood at the center of what was quickly becoming a bloodbath.

In a break in the crowd, he spotted Sable surrounded by a dozen of his men, who protected him in a human shield.

Roar’s words rang in Perry’s mind. Cut off the head of the snake.

Perry could do it. He only needed one clear shot.

Roar’s whistle cut sharply through the gun battle.

Perry’s head whipped to the sound. Roar stood fifty paces away. A Horn soldier held him by the arm, shuttling him to the Komodo. Perry saw Soren and Aria beyond Roar, both of them also under the gun.

Perry slowed and set his feet. He aimed the pistol, finding his mark, and pulled the trigger.

He hit the Horn soldier who had Roar—a square shot to the chest. The man flew back, falling to the ground, and Roar lunged free.

Perry sprinted again, bullets flinging past him. He’d lost sight of Aria and Soren, but Roar ran ahead of him, charging forward on the same path.

Roar reached Soren first, leaping at his captor. He fell on the Horn soldier, who careened into Soren, and all three went crashing to the ground.

Perry ran past them, seeing Aria. Then seeing Kirra.

“Stop, Perry!” Kirra yelled. She yanked Aria around.

Perry skidded to a stop as Kirra pressed a gun under Aria’s chin. He was only twenty paces away, but not close enough.

Aria tilted her chin up, her face strained with anger. She was breathing fast, her gaze on Perry but her focus elsewhere.

“Drop the gun, Perry,” Kirra said. “I can’t let you leave. Sable needs—”

Aria rammed her elbow into Kirra’s throat, quick and sudden.

She spun away, grabbing Kirra’s arm and twisting it behind her. With a hard shove, she forced Kirra down in an arm lock, sending her face smashing to the dirt. Snatching the pistol from the ground, Aria slammed the butt into the back of Kirra’s head. Kirra went limp, knocked unconscious.

Aria jumped to her feet and ran over. “I hate that girl.”

Stunned, impressed, Perry felt his mouth pull into an idiotic grin.

“We have to get out of here,” Roar said. Soren swayed behind him, ashen, his eyes unfocused.

“This way,” Perry said, leading them to the Dragonwing he’d been in earlier.

As they raced down the runway, he noticed battles waged over Hovers—and the Horns quickly gaining control. Every Dweller seemed to be challenged by three of Sable’s men. Some were Guardians, already showing allegiance to their new leader. Bodies lay strewn across the field, most of them dressed in gray.

He reached the Dragonwing and jumped inside, Aria, Soren, and Roar right behind him. Cinder waited in the cockpit, exactly where Perry had left him.

“Go!” Perry yelled.

The Dweller pilot was ready, just as they’d planned. He had the craft off the ground before the hatch closed.

33

ARIA

Aria sat on the floor with Soren in the dark hold behind the cockpit. The Hover had barely taken off before he’d begun to rock, choking on sobs.

She rubbed his broad back, biting her lip to keep from offering him platitudes. I’m sorry. I’m here for you. You don’t deserve this.

She knew nothing she could say would help.

Her ears still hadn’t recovered fully from the explosion, but she picked up snatches of conversation from the cockpit. An Aether storm had settled between the Komodo and the coast, blocking their way to the cave. The pilot—a Dweller who’d been in the craft with Cinder—described the path as impossible and unnavigable and suicide.

Her stomach clenched as she listened to Roar and Perry discuss alternate routes, hoping they’d settle on one worth trying. Finally free of the Komodo, she wanted desperately to get home—even if home meant a dismal cave.

She didn’t hear Cinder, but he was in the cockpit too. They’d all given Soren space—as much as was possible in the cramped Dragonwing.

Soren sat back, wiping his eyes. “He was terrible. He did awful things. You know what he’s really like. Was really like. Why do I even care?”

Crying had left his face red and swollen. He looked broken, his heart exposed. Nothing like the cocky boy she knew. “Because he was your father, Soren.”

“I’m the one who pushed him away. I stayed in Reverie when he wanted me to leave. He never gave up on me. I’m the one who gave up on him.”

“You didn’t give up on him. He knew that.”

“How can you be sure? How do you know?” Soren didn’t wait for her reply. He pressed his fists to his face and began to rock again.

Aria glanced up. Roar and Perry stood in the narrow threshold. Shoulders together. Minds together. Both looking so aware of what Soren was feeling.

Behind them, through the windshield, she saw the sky—Aether blue and now Aether red—and she wondered how she could feel lucky with Soren breaking apart before her eyes and after what she’d just seen. But she did.

Perry and Roar. Cinder and Soren.

They had all made it out alive.

By the time they found a clear route to the coast, Soren had exhausted himself and fallen asleep. Aria sat back against the cool metal wall of the Dragonwing. Dawn had broken, the cockpit brightening by the minute, but the light didn’t reach the small hold she shared with Soren. Her left arm ached from when she’d hit Kirra, but she noticed less pain in her right. She tested the movement in her hand and found she could almost close her fingers into a fist now. Stretching out her tired legs, she was struck by a pang of longing for her mother, who could have told her for certain whether the wound was healing properly.

It felt familiar missing Lumina’s calm advice and assurances. But the immediate turn Aria’s thoughts took to Loran was new.

It hit her then: she’d never see him again.

She’d barely spent minutes with him, knew precious little about who he was. It made no sense that she felt so crushed. But like she’d told Soren about Hess, he was her father. That alone meant something. Regardless of all the years he’d been gone, or what might have happened between him and Lumina, she did feel something for him.

I want a chance to know you, Aria, Loran had said.

How could those words seem so lacking and so promising? What more could she have hoped for him to say?

Perry glanced back from the cockpit, interrupting her thoughts. When he saw that Soren had settled, he ducked beneath the low door and came over.

He knelt beside her, his eyes shining in the dimness. “How are you doing?”

“Me? I’m doing amazing.”

“Really,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Come here.” He took her hand and lifted her up. In a heartbeat, she found herself in a dark corner made darker by Perry, who towered over her and around her, blocking out the meager light.

Bending, he rested his forehead against hers and smiled. “I had some things I wanted to talk to you about. I think they were important, but I can’t remember now.”

“Because I said I’m amazing?”

His smile widened. “Because you are amazing.” He took her injured hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. “How is this?”

She couldn’t believe he wanted to know if she was in pain. “Not bad . . . I’m becoming left-handed.” The pain was either fading day by day, or she was becoming better at coping with it. Either way, she decided to consider it an improvement. “You?”

“A little sore,” he said absently, like he’d forgotten the bruises that covered him. “That move you did on Kirra was champ. It would never work on me, though.”

“I could pin you in two seconds flat.”

“I don’t know about that.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “We’ll have to see.” He cradled her face with callused hands, and bridged the distance between them.

His lips were gentle and soft as he kissed her, unlike the flexed muscles in his forearms. He felt solid and real and safe—everything she needed. She took the hem of his shirt and pulled him closer.

His kiss deepened as he leaned into her. His hands slid down her waist and settled on her hips, sending a warm wave of desire flooding through her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting more, but he broke their kiss and made a low hissing sound by her ear. “You know I’m at a steep disadvantage here, right? When you want me, I feel it. It’s impossible to keep my hands off you.”

“Sounds like an advantage to both of us.”

He drew back, giving her a lopsided grin. “It would be if we were alone.” His gaze strayed toward the cockpit, a familiar, steady focus returning to his eyes. “We’re almost there.”

Through the windshield, she saw ocean and Aether—a sky twisting with Aether—but she found herself smiling. She couldn’t wait to see Caleb again. She couldn’t wait to see Molly and Willow, and even Brooke.

Perry straightened, taking her hand. “The pilot says he has the coordinates to the Still Blue. They were transmitted to the entire fleet.”

“So we have that piece,” Aria said.

He nodded. “We do. That’s not stopping us any longer.” Carefully, he wove his fingers through hers. “Aria, we need to be united about something. If Jupiter and Brooke made it safely, we’ve got the Belswan Hover they brought back, and now this Dragonwing. Between the two, I’m guessing they’d fit a hundred people, maximum.”

“It’s not enough. That would barely fit a quarter of us. You’re not thinking of only sending a hundred people to the Still Blue, are you?”

He shook his head. “No. I wasn’t. I’m not ready to give in yet.”

Aria realized she’d already known his answer. They felt the same way about this. Hundreds of years ago during the Unity, there’d been a selection to choose those who’d take shelter in the Pods and those who wouldn’t. It had divided her ancestors and his, but she couldn’t let that happen again. How could she value one person’s life more than another? How could she choose Caleb over Talon? Jupiter over Willow?

She couldn’t, and neither could Perry. They had brought Dwellers and Outsiders together, and that was how it would stay.

“We have to be prepared, Aria. Not everyone will see it the way we do.”

“We’ll make them see it. We’ll find another solution.”

“I have some thoughts on that.” He glanced at the cockpit again. Roar stood next to the pilot, directing him over the last stretch toward the cave. “We’ll talk later.”

She knew they would, but she wanted to tell him something now, while Roar was occupied. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“Talk to him.”

He understood right away. “We’re fine.” He shifted his weight, his green eyes darting back to Roar. “He’s my brother. . . . We don’t need to apologize.”

“I didn’t mean that you should apologize, Perry.” Roar’s anger had faded in the Komodo, but he stood no chance of accepting what had happened to Liv unless Perry did. Unless they got through it together.

Perry stared into her eyes like he saw all her thoughts in them. Then he brought her hand up and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“I promise,” he said.

They arrived at the bluff at midday.

Aria climbed down to the cove and stared at the horizon, trapping her hair against the wind in one hand. Ashes blew past her like swarms of moths, disappearing into the surf. Her eyes burned, and an acrid smoky taste slid over her tongue.

“It’s from the fires we avoided to get here,” Perry said, coming to her side. He tipped his head to the south. “The storms aren’t moving anymore. Just spreading.”

The knot of Aether that had been raging when they’d left for the Komodo had expanded. Funnels scored down a vast portion of the horizon, reminding her of the rainwater streaking down the Hover’s windshield the day they’d started the Komodo operation.

“I feel like it’s going to drown us. Like eventually we won’t be able to breathe. Strange, isn’t it? You can’t drown in fire.”

Perry blinked at her, his lips lifting in a tired smile. “No. Not strange at all.”

He took her hand as they walked to the cave. Roar and Cinder stepped inside first, the pilot a few steps behind them.

As soon as she and Perry entered, the Tides surrounded them, sweeping Perry away. They swallowed him up with their greetings and laughter. In less than a minute, he held Talon in his arms while the Six slapped his back, jostling him. Not the gentlest welcoming, but they didn’t know about Perry’s battered condition. And judging by the smile on his face, he didn’t seem to mind.

Aria heard Flea’s happy barks and spotted him at the edge of the crowd. She caught sight of Willow just as she flew into Cinder, knocking him clean to the ground. Aria smiled. No gentle welcome there, either.

Roar stood with Brooke nearby, waving Aria over, but she couldn’t join them yet. She took Soren’s hand. He looked so dazed and heartbroken, his gaze hollow and unfocused. She needed to find Jupiter for him, or a place where he could have some quiet. It’d be one or the other; Jupiter and quiet didn’t happen together.

As she led Soren away from the crowd, she remembered the pilot. He’d be exhausted, and terrified of this new environment. After she got Soren settled, she’d make sure to check on him, too.

Molly stopped her before she’d gotten far. She cupped Aria’s face with papery hands and laughed. “Look at you! You’re an absolute fright!”

Aria smiled. “I can imagine. I haven’t seen a brush in days.”

Molly eased back. Her gaze flicked to Soren before coming back to Aria. “Brooke told me how the mission began. You had me sick with worry.”

“Sorry,” Aria said, though she loved knowing that Molly had missed her. She let herself enjoy the feeling of being cherished for a moment before turning back to her tasks. “Molly, we flew in with a pilot—”

“I know. We’re feeding him. Then we’ll take him to the Dweller cavern. He’s doing just fine.”

Aria smiled at the older woman’s efficiency. “Where’s Caleb?” she asked. Most likely Jupiter wouldn’t be far off.

“Same place. The Dweller cavern. They’re all there.” Molly’s smile faded as she noticed Soren’s silence and sensed something was wrong.

“Why are they in there? Are they still sick?” Aria asked.

“Oh, no. They’ve recovered, every one of them. But they won’t come out of there. I’m sorry . . . I’ve tried.”

“They won’t leave?” Aria said. Stunned, she left Molly and hurried to the Dweller cavern, towing Soren along. As they stepped inside, she and Soren received a much more lukewarm reception than Perry and Cinder had. The Dwellers seemed more leery than relieved to see them, but Caleb came over, smiling warmly. Jupiter came too, favoring one leg, accompanied by Rune, who walked slowly in order to keep pace with him.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” Rune said, her lips tugging into a smile.

She was Jupiter’s girlfriend now, but she’d been Aria’s friend first. Seeing her brought a rush of memories of times they’d spent together, with Paisley, Caleb, and Pixie. Aria’s heart twisted for the friends she’d never see again.

She lifted her shoulders. “Well, here I am.”

Rune’s shrewd eyes studied her. “You look like you stepped out of a horror Realm.”

Aria laughed, unsurprised by her directness. Rune had been the honesty in their group. A perfect foil to Paisley’s unfailing sweetness and Caleb’s rambling creativity. “So I’ve heard.”

She embraced Rune, who patted Aria’s shoulder and let herself be hugged. An awkward display of affection, but it was better than Aria could have hoped. At least in a small way, Rune was adjusting to life on the outside.

Aria drew back and they all stood, glancing at Soren. Looking at one another and feeling the absence of their lost home and their lost friends.

Eventually they sat, gathering in a circle. Aria kept Soren close to her side, worried about him. Jupiter and Rune held hands, and Aria wished Paisley could be there to see them. She wouldn’t have believed it; greater opposites didn’t exist.

Aria answered their questions about her mission to the Komodo, doing her best to avoid mentioning Hess out of respect for Soren, who listened in silence. The conversation quickly turned to her Outsider friends. Unsurprisingly, Rune wanted to know about Peregrine in particular.

“Caleb said you’re with him?” she asked.

Caleb winced, sending Aria a little shrug of apology. She smiled, so he’d know she didn’t mind. She saw no better way of helping them accept the Tides than by being open about her relationship with Perry—the exact opposite of the tactic she’d tried the first time, with the Tides.

“Yes. We’re together.” Saying the words aloud gave her a little shiver of pride.

“Do you love him?” Rune asked.

“Yes.”

“You love a Savage? Love him?”

“Yes, Rune. I do.”

“Have you and he—”

“Yes. We have. Can we move on now?”

“Yes,” Caleb and Jupiter answered in unison.

Rune narrowed her eyes. “You and I are talking later,” she said.

Then it was Aria’s turn to ask questions. “Have you all been here the whole time I was away? Cowering here, in the back?”

“We’re not cowering,” Rune said. “We’re just keeping our distance. It’s easier for everyone this way.” She glanced at Jupiter, who tapped a rhythm on his shoe. “They don’t like us, right, Jup?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some of them are all right.”

“What do you mean they don’t like you?” Aria asked. “What have they done to you?”

“Nothing,” Caleb said. “It’s the way they look at us.”

“You mean the same way you look at them?”

Rune quirked an eyebrow. “Well, they are disgusting.”

“That’s kind of sharp, Rune,” Jupiter said, his hands going still.

Caleb rolled his eyes. “They aren’t disgusting. They’re just . . . rustic.”

Aria ignored the comment. She was pretty sure she’d become rustic too. “How long are you planning to keep yourselves segregated? Forever?”

“Maybe,” said Rune. “It’s not like forever will be long. We’re not going to the Still Blue. All we’re doing is waiting out our last days.”

The sounds of nearby conversation quieted. Aria felt the attention of others focus on them. Everyone was listening. “Just because we failed once doesn’t mean we should stop trying.”

“Trying to what, Aria? Make friends with the Savages? No, thanks. I’m not interested. I don’t understand why you took us out of Reverie just so we could die here instead.”

Soren shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered.

Aria had heard enough too. She stood, forcing calm into her voice as she spoke. “You think Soren and I saved your life by getting you out of Reverie? We didn’t. We gave you a chance. You have to choose whether you want to live or die, not me. Hiding back here isn’t either.”

34

PEREGRINE

So, what happened?” Twig asked. “The Dwellers couldn’t hold on against the Horns?”

Perry sat at the edge of the wooden platform at the center of the main cavern. He’d changed into his own clothes soon after arriving. Then he’d spent a little time with Talon, catching up on the past couple of days. Now Perry was surrounded by his people, who gathered along the platform with him and pressed together at nearby tables.

He felt crowded and mildly panicked, as he always did inside the cave, but like he was exactly where he should be: immersed in the Tides.

Marron was there. Old Will. Molly and Bear, and the Six. Wherever he looked, he saw smiles. Their happiness flooded his nose with bright scents, their tempers bringing him the spring the Aether had taken.

Perry hadn’t realized how scared they’d been until then. The relief he scented was potent; he wondered how many in the tribe had believed he’d never come back from the Komodo.

Nearby, Talon, Willow, and Brooke’s sister, Clara, played a game to see who could jump furthest from the platform. Cinder acted as judge, Flea sitting beside him. Everyone else—everyone over thirteen—waited to hear what happened in the Komodo.

Perry looked at Roar, who was the storyteller between the two of them, but Roar smiled and shook his head.

“This one’s yours, Per,” he said. He tipped back a bottle of Luster, taking a healthy drink, his temper the mellowest Perry had scented since Liv’s death.

Perry started with their breach of the Komodo, and then told the tribe about their imprisonment and escape, leaving out only what Sable had done to him. When he skipped that part, Reef pinned a searing gaze on him. Perry expected questions from him later.

As he talked, bowls of fish soup were passed around, along with huge loaves of bread and thick slices of cheese. A luxury, Perry knew, and he said as much.

“Oh, enjoy it!” Marron offered in a rare show of abandon. “You’re home, Peregrine. You’ve made it back safely, all of you, and we’re so happy.”

He sat next to Roar, who’d insisted that Marron share his bottle of Luster. Marron’s cheeks were flushed, his blue eyes carefree. Seeing him that way made Perry smile.

Reef crossed his arms. “Hess and Sable turned on each other.”

Perry nodded, taking a huge bite of bread. His appetite for real food—not the Dwellers’ plastic-tasting meals—was enormous. The only thing he wanted more at the moment was a bed.

A bed with Aria in it, he amended.

“We should learn from that,” Reef continued. “We should take that as a warning. We’re at risk of the very same thing happening here.”

Perry swallowed. “What are you saying?”

“The Dwellers,” Molly explained. “They’re keeping their distance. They’re scared of us, Perry. That’s all.”

Reef crossed his arms. “Fear is dangerous. It sparks violence much faster than anger. Doesn’t it, Peregrine?”

“It can, yes.”

From the corner of his eye, Perry caught the small shake of Roar’s head. It felt so right, Reef’s lectures and Roar’s annoyance at Reef’s lectures. The moment strengthened him more than a bellyful of food.

“The Dwellers are harmless,” Molly said. “They’ll mix with us now that Aria is back. I’m more concerned about other things. Perry, you said we needed Hovers to reach the Still Blue. . . . We only have two.”

Perry acknowledged the problem and stated his position on the matter. Two Hovers wasn’t enough, but the Tides—and the Dwellers in the back—would stand together. He and Aria had agreed; they wouldn’t make a selection of people to go.

“I support that stance,” said Marron. “I’m behind you.”

“I’m behind you,” said Reef, “but I don’t support that stance. Why should we all perish?”

“Hold on,” Twig said. “Isn’t there another option besides perishing?”

“We could try to locate more Hovers,” said Marron, slurring a little.

“From another Pod?” Reef shook his head. “We don’t have time for that. We don’t know if other Pods even exist anymore.”

They wanted to take action, which Perry understood. It was always his impulse too. But this time, their best course was simply to wait.

Sable needed Cinder. He would come to them—soon. Perry had no doubt in his mind. But that knowledge would only put the tribe in a panic, so he held his tongue. The Tides would know soon enough.

As the debate continued, Perry’s gaze drifted to the children again. They took turns running up and smacking Straggler on the head, trying to get him to chase them. Cinder had moved off. He sat with Bear, looking especially small and frail next to the huge farmer whose life he’d saved.

Cinder’s favorite black cap had found its way back to his head. Molly’s doing, Perry was sure. She’d have had it waiting for him.

Cinder saw Perry watching him and forced a smile, though his eyes were almost closed.

“He’s tired,” Molly said. “I’ll find him a quiet place to sleep soon, but let’s give him a few more minutes. This is doing wonders for his heart.” She smiled, and added, “And mine.” She studied Perry, her brown eyes knowing. “They wanted him for his ability.”

Perry nodded. “He’s the only way to get through the barrier of Aether that surrounds the Still Blue.”

Molly pressed her lips together, falling silent for a moment. “You saw what it cost him to channel the Aether in the compound, Perry. He’s barely recovered at all since then. You know what it would mean for him to use his ability in his condition?”

“I do.” It was all he wanted to say about it now. He shut away his worries about Cinder behind thick walls, with his memories of Liv.

Liv.

His heart began to pound. He looked at Roar, who had the bottle of Luster halfway to his mouth. Roar stopped and made a face, his eyes narrowing in question.

“Walk with me?” Perry said.

Roar’s mouth broke into a grin. “Finish that,” he said, pushing the bottle of Luster at Marron. Then he hopped to his feet and said, “Lead the way, Per.”

Perry walked to the cove outside and kept going, climbing the bluff and then following the trail back to the Tide compound. He hadn’t set out to return home; his feet just carried him there out of habit.

Illuminated by thick Aether flows, the night was as bright as twilight, as all nights were now. Ashes flittered through the air; soft as feathers underfoot. His pulse beat too fast for the easy pace he and Roar made.

They arrived at the compound and walked to the center of the clearing. Perry felt raw, like every step brought him closer to the edge of a cliff. His gaze swept across the homes, hollow and eerily quiet. Bear and Molly’s house stood out, looking like a rotten tooth with its listing walls blackened and leaning at odd angles. He remembered the night Bear had been trapped under those walls.

Perry’s house still stood, though. It didn’t look the same, but it didn’t look different, either. He stared at it for a long time, trying to figure out what had changed. Debating whether he wanted to go inside.

“Remember when I tripped you during the summer festival,” Roar said, “and you fell into Vale’s mug and chipped a tooth?”

Used to his spontaneous stories, Perry answered smoothly. “I remember Vale chasing me down and beating me for spilling Luster all over his lap.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have fallen on him.”

“Right. That was stupid of me.”

“It was. You’ve always been terrible at falling.”

Despite their joking, Perry felt sure now that Roar was seeing all the same memories he was. All the times they’d torn through the compound as kids, barefoot, noisy, safe, no thought in their minds that this place would ever change. That people they loved would vanish.

Or be murdered.

He cleared his throat. It was time. “I’m supposed to talk to you about things. About what’s been going on.”

“Really? Why start now?”

“Aria. I promised her.”

Roar’s smile was faint. He crossed his arms and stared at Perry’s house. The house that had also been Liv’s.

Perry caught a sob in the back of his throat and drew a quick breath. The ache he felt for Liv was a monstrous thing, clawing at his chest. He began before he lost his nerve.

“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.”

Apparently it was, because it got them started again.

Perry had no idea if he’d expressed half of what he’d intended. He knew he’d been selfish, leaving Roar to deal with Liv’s death alone. He hadn’t let himself accept that she was gone, so he’d failed his friend, and himself, but he meant to change that. He was terrible at falling—Roar was right about that—but nothing ever kept him down.

As they walked back to the cave, a piece of him that had been broken felt whole again. Nothing looked the same or smelled the same, and maybe the world was ending, but he and Roar would walk to that end side by side.

When they arrived, they found the main cavern empty, everyone already gone to sleep. Perry left Roar and headed for his tent, half-asleep himself.

Reef and Marron intercepted him on the way.

“A few words?” Reef said.

“Sure,” Perry said. “A few.” He was so tired; every time he blinked he felt like he dreamed.

“Did you and Roar talk?” Marron asked.

Perry nodded. “Just did.”

Marron smiled. “Good.”

“He’s selfish and arrogant,” said Reef.

“But he’s good for Perry, Reef,” Marron said.

Reef grunted—as enthusiastic as he’d ever sounded about Roar.

Marron reached into a satchel. “I forgot to give this back to you earlier.” He removed the Blood Lord chain, handing it over.

“Thank you,” Perry said, pulling it on. The weight of the metal around his neck was more familiar than comfortable. He wondered if it would ever be both.

Marron and Reef exchanged a look, and then Reef drew a noisy breath, pushing back his braids. “You brought us both into the Tides, Perry. Neither one of us would be here if you hadn’t let us into your tribe.”

“That’s right,” Marron said. “You offered us shelter when we needed it most. When you couldn’t afford to, you helped us.”

Perry had never felt like he’d done either of them a favor. It had always felt the other way around.

“Between my group from Delphi and Reef’s Six, we’re fifty-three people,” said Marron. “Fifty-three who’ll willingly stay behind. We won’t take the place of your tribe on those Hovers.”

Reef nodded. “There’s no way forward that isn’t through pain and hardship, Peregrine. You must see that. It’s your task as Blood Lord to do what’s best for the whole—for as many of your tribe as you can help—not what’s easiest.”

“We’d like you to just consider what we’re saying,” Marron said. “That’s all we ask.”

Perry pretended to think for a few seconds. “It’s a noble offer. . . . Did either of you think I’d accept it?”

Reef and Marron went still, neither one replying, but the answer was plain on their faces.

Perry grinned. “Well, you were right.” Clapping them on the shoulders, he bid them good night.

In his tent, Perry found Cinder asleep next to Talon. Flea was rolled into a ball under Cinder’s arm.

Perry knelt and scratched his coarse fur. The dog angled his head up, his tail padding against the blankets. He loved to be scratched in the soft slope between his wide-set eyes.

Perry’s gaze moved to Talon and Cinder. The boys had fallen in together like they’d known each other since birth. He owed that to Willow.

“And you too, fleabag,” he said.

Cinder’s eyes blinked open. Perry smiled, too happy to see him there to feel sorry for waking him. “How’d you get him away from Willow?” he asked, nodding to Flea.

Lying on his side, Cinder gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I didn’t do anything. He just came back with me.”

“Willow was fine with that?”

The corner of Cinder’s mouth pulled up. “Sorta. She told Flea he could stay with me this one time only, since I just got back.”

“Generous of her, actually.”

“Yeah,” Cinder said. “I know.” His smile widened. “She’s still cursing. You thought she’d stop when I got here, but she hasn’t.”

“We already knew that Willow is unstoppable.”

“I know,” Cinder said again. “She is.”

As the moment settled between them, Perry looked from Cinder to Talon, and his vision began to blur. These boys—only one of them his blood relative, but both of them family—replenished him. They gave him confidence and purpose. Wearing the chain made sense when he looked at them, when he thought of them with Willow and Clara, whooping as they leaped from a platform into the darkness. They were the future, and they were so good.

Perry pushed a bit of small talk past his lips, buying a moment to compose himself. “So, how are you doing?”

“I’m tired.”

Perry waited, knowing there was more.

“And I’m scared,” Cinder said. “Are we going to the Still Blue?”

“I don’t know . . . maybe.”

“If we do, I’ll have to get us through.”

Reef’s words echoed in Perry’s mind. There is no way forward that isn’t through pain. He shook his head, pushing them away.

“Whatever happens, Cinder, I swear to you, I won’t leave your side.”

Cinder didn’t say anything, but Perry scented the easing of anxiety from his temper. That seemed to be all he needed to surrender to sleep. In seconds, Cinder’s eyes fluttered closed.

Perry stayed a moment longer, soaking in the quiet. Flea began to whimper, his legs twitching as he dreamed about chasing something. Perry wondered if it was the Still Blue.

He stood, moving to the trunks containing the remnants of his family’s belongings. Talon’s falcon carvings. Vale’s ledger. One of Mila’s painted bowls, which he and Liv had cracked while wrestling and then fixed unsuccessfully. These things might never go anywhere, he realized now.

He stepped out of his boots and was unbuckling his belt when Aria slipped into the tent. “Hey,” he said, going still.

“Hi.” She glanced at Cinder and Talon, smiling when she saw Flea, but her temper brimmed with anxiousness. He felt it coil inside his chest, stealing away the peaceful, tired feeling he’d felt a second ago.

He didn’t know what to do next. He didn’t know whether to pull off his belt. It seemed like a bigger decision than it should have been. Belt off was normal for him at the end of the day, but he didn’t want her to think he assumed something would happen between them.

Even though he wanted it to. Badly.

He was being an idiot. She trusted him. He knew that. He’d only make this more awkward by dressing again.

He pulled off his belt and placed it on the trunk. “I went out with Roar,” he said to fill the silence.

“How was it?”

“Really good. Thank you.”

“I’m glad.”

Her smile was genuine, but faint. Something was on her mind. Her gaze flicked to the empty bed and then to the tent flap.

He spoke quickly, worried that she might leave. “It’s a little crowded, but I’m glad you’re here. If you decide you want to stay. I’m glad you’re here even if you don’t want to stay. Either is fine. Anything you want is perfect.”

He scratched his chin, shutting himself up. Perfect? He’d never used that word until she’d appeared in his life. “How are your friends? Caleb and Jupiter?”

“I saw them earlier,” Aria said quietly. “I yelled at them.”

“You . . . yelled at them?”

She nodded. “Maybe it wasn’t yelling. But I raised my voice.”

He finally understood her temper. Her anxiousness wasn’t because of him; she was worried about her friends. “Did they deserve it?”

“Yes. No. In a way. They’ve been keeping themselves separate. Did you know that?”

“Molly mentioned it.”

“I couldn’t stay with them, so I left. I spent the afternoon in the Battle Room trying to figure out why they’re back there.” She sucked on her bottom lip, the smooth skin between her dark eyebrows wrinkling with worry. “I just expected them to be further along, and I don’t know how to change the way they think. I want to help, but I don’t see how I can.”

A hundred thoughts flooded his mind, but they all came down to one: being a leader wasn’t easy. Trust and respect had to be earned, and that only happened over time. He’d spent the winter and spring learning that with the Tides. Aria was just beginning to learn it now.

“You know I’m here,” he said. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Will you come see them with me tomorrow? Maybe if we talk to them together it’ll help.”

“Done.”

Aria smiled, then her gaze traveled to his waist. “Perry, did you know your pants are falling down?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t have to look; he could feel them sliding down his hips. “I, uh . . . I took my belt off to make you feel comfortable.”

“You took your belt off to make me feel comfortable?”

He nodded, trying to hold back a laugh. “I worked it out in my head that this would be more natural.”

“Your pants falling down is natural?”

He grinned. “Yeah. If they fall any further, it’s going to be very natural.”

She laughed, her gray eyes shining as she shook her head. “So nice of you to think of me.”

“Always do.”

A blush crept over her cheeks as they stared at each other, one second giving to another. Her temper filled the small space, beckoning him closer.

“In the Komodo you said you wanted us to have some time alone,” she said.

He snatched his belt off the trunk and took her hand, darting out of the tent before she’d finished speaking.

35

ARIA

Perry, I can’t see where I’m going.”

Aria jogged to keep up with him as he pulled her through the cave. He was barefoot, buckling his belt with one hand and holding on to her with the other, but she was still lagging behind. She didn’t have his eyes, and at this late hour, with only a few scattered lamps still burning, the cave was nothing but blackness ahead of her, below her, everywhere. Every step she took, she felt as though her foot might never touch the ground.

He tightened his grip on her hand. “It’s even footing and I won’t let you fall,” he said, but she noticed he slowed down.

It was a relief when they left the dark hollowness of the cave. A relief to hear the roar of the waves and to have the Aether lighting the way. The reddish glow at the edges of the funnels seemed more vibrant now than just hours ago.

“Are we swimming?” she said as he took her down to the water’s edge. “Because the last time I did that wasn’t very enjoyable.”

She’d been in the ice-cold waters of the Snake River with Roar, fighting desperately to stay alive.

Perry gave her a crooked smile. “Same,” he said, and she remembered how he’d almost drowned trying to save Willow and her grandfather. He put his arm around her shoulders, guiding her closer to the waves. “But it’s the only way, and it’s not far.”

“Only way to what? Not far to where?”

He stopped and pointed down the beach. “There’s a cove on the other side of that point.”

She didn’t see a cove. What she saw were waves pounding against rocks that jutted out of the ocean. “Aren’t we standing in a cove right now?”

“Yes, but the one around that point is magic.”

She laughed, surprised by his choice of words.

He glanced down at her, his eyes narrowing. “Are you telling me you don’t believe in magic?”

“Oh, I do. But the way to the magic cove looks cold. And dangerous . . . and cold.”

Perry’s hand slid to her injured arm. “You can do it,” he said, homing in on the real source of her apprehension.

Aria stared at the point. It was shrouded in darkness, and the tide looked rough, and she had no idea if she had the strength to swim all the way there.

“I’ll be right beside you if you need me, but you won’t. And I can’t do anything about the cold until we get there, but it’ll be worth it. There are no problems in the magic cove. Everything over there is . . .” He paused, smiling almost to himself. “It’s perfect.”

Aria shook her head. How could she say no to that?

They waded out past the waves together. She started shivering when the water reached her shins. Her teeth chattered when it reached her thighs. By the time it rose up over her waist, she decided this was the best idea he’d ever had.

Every wave that crashed past them was exhilarating, sending bolts of adrenaline through her. Her mind cleared and her senses opened to the salt water she tasted. To the sound of Perry’s laugh mixing with hers, and his grip tightening when the water pushed them back. She hadn’t even seen it yet, but the magic cove was already perfect.

“We have to go under the next wave,” Perry said, letting go of her hand. “Dive and then swim out as far as you can before you come up. Ready?”

She didn’t have a chance to answer. The wave came, towering and dark and capped in white. She dove and kicked, pushing until her lungs burned for oxygen.

When she came up, Perry was smiling. “All good?” he said.

She nodded, her teeth already chattering. “Race you,” she said.

They swam past the breakers toward smoother water. Cutting through the waves pushed her beyond thought, turning her into pure action. It took strength and yet it demanded surrender as well. It was both, folded into one. Aria only caught glimpses of Perry when she came up for air, but she knew he was right there.

When they finally waded out onto the beach, she was in desperate need of warmth, but she felt better than she had in weeks. The cold had numbed her arm, allowing her to move freely without guarding herself against pain.

Perry pulled her to his side. “What did you think?” he asked, smiling.

“I think you should look more tired.” He’d moved through the water with the same power and effortlessness with which he did everything.

“Not with you to look forward to. Let’s get a fire going.”

Shivering, Aria hurried to gather driftwood. Nearby, Perry hoisted a large piece over his shoulder. He seemed unbothered by the bruises that still covered his arms and legs. Shaking a strand of seaweed from a branch, she remembered a story Roar had told her.

“Did you really sneak into the compound once wearing only seaweed?” she asked.

“Had to.” He dropped the wood onto a growing pile. “Liv swiped my clothes. It was either seaweed or nothing, and I wasn’t keen on the idea of strutting into the compound completely bare.” He smiled. “For days afterward I woke up to seaweed hanging on my front door.”

Aria laughed. “The Tides wanted an encore?”

Perry knelt and began stacking the wood. “Never found out. . . . It was probably Liv again. She was like that. She could never let something go.”

Aria couldn’t see his face, but she knew from the tone in his voice that he wasn’t smiling anymore. While it hurt to see him suffer, it felt better than seeing him retreat behind walls. Liv was gone, but he was letting her back into his life in a new way.

“I wish I’d known her better, Perry,” she said, adding her wood to the pile.

“If you spent an hour with her, then you knew Liv. My sister was . . . she was . . .”

He trailed off, so she finished for him. “Like you.”

“I was going to say willful and hardheaded.” He smiled. “So, yeah . . . like me.” He took a piece of flint and a dagger from the sheath at his belt. “How’s your arm?”

“Surprisingly good,” she said, sitting on the sand.

“I knew you’d be fine. What’ll really be surprising is if I can get this lit.” He turned his back to the wind, bending over his hands. He had sparks flinging into the tinder within seconds. She watched him blow the flames to life, consumed by him. He was as wild as the fire. As vital as the ocean. His own element.

He peered up as the fire took and smiled. “Impressed?”

She wanted to say something quick-witted, but she said the simple truth. “Yes.”

“Me too,” he said, putting the blade away.

They sat, growing quiet as they let the fire warm them. Since they’d reached the magic cove, they hadn’t spoken about Hovers, or about Sable or the Still Blue. It was almost like being free. She realized the last time she’d been this relaxed, this happy, had also been with him.

Perry shifted beside her, sitting forward and draping his arms over his knees. The bruises on his forearms were fading, and his hair was drying in spirals.

She’d only meant to glance at him, but the lines that made him—the muscles along his arms and shoulders, the angle of his jaw, and the crook in his nose—were lines that mesmerized her.

He glanced over. Then he moved to her side and put his arm around her. “Are you trying to kill me with that look?” he whispered by her ear.

“I was trying to get you over here—and it worked.”

He brushed a kiss over her lips and then took her hand. “You know how Roar calls you Halfy and Ladybug?”

She nodded. Roar was always coming up with pet names for her.

“I want to call you something too. Something special. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

As he spoke, Perry absently pressed his hands around hers, wrapping them in a cocoon of warmth. He ran so hot. The chill melted out of her fingers in seconds.

This was them. Everything that passed between them felt easy and right.

“You have?” She’d always loved that he called her Aria. She had plenty of nicknames. Her mother had called her Songbird. Roar called her just about everything else. Perry—after the initial period of Mole and Dweller when they’d first come together—had taken to calling her, simply, Aria.

It wasn’t simple, though. Spoken in his unhurried, golden voice, the sound of her name became something beautiful. It became what it was. A song. But a nickname was what he wanted, so she said, “What have you come up with?”

“None of the usual things are good enough for you. So I started thinking about what you mean to me. How even the smallest things remind me of you. Last week, Talon was showing me his bait collection. He keeps this jar of night crawlers, and I wondered what you’d think of it. If you’d find them disgusting, or if you wouldn’t mind them.”

She smiled, seeing an opportunity she couldn’t resist. “Night crawlers, as in earthworms? You want to call me Earthworm?”

His laugh was a burst of surprise. “No.”

“I could get used to . . . Earth . . . worm.”

He shook his head at the sky. “I never say the right things to you, do I?”

“I don’t know. I think I might like Night Crawler even better. It almost sounds dangerous—”

He moved suddenly. In an instant she was on her back on the sand, pinned beneath him. She was reminded of his strength—and just how careful he usually was with her.

“Now you’re making me desperate,” he said, his eyes moving over her face slowly.

He didn’t look desperate. He looked focused. Like he knew exactly what he wanted. Her hands were splayed on his chest. Was he trembling or was she?

“Tell me what to say. What can I say to make you want me the way I want you?”

The words sent a thrill up her spine, making her shiver. She smiled. “That worked.” She pulled him down and kissed him, needing his warmth. Needing his mouth and his skin and his taste. Her fingers found the hem of his shirt. She pulled it over his head and found him smiling, his hair ruffled.

He leaned down, bracing his arms on either side of her, his lips soft as they kissed a trail from her mouth to her ear. “What I was trying to say,” he whispered, “is that I see you in everything. There isn’t a word for you that means enough, because you’re everything to me.”

“Perfect words,” she said, her smile wobbling with emotion. “Magical.”

He looked into her eyes, flashing a proud grin. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

His mouth found hers again, his kisses hungry, his weight settling onto her. She wove her fingers into his damp curls, and she was gone. Swept away. Nothing else existed beyond his body and hers, moving like strength and surrender, folded into one.

Cinder and Talon still slept soundly when they returned to Perry’s tent, but Flea was gone.

“Willow,” she said.

Perry nodded. “He stayed longer than I thought he would.”

After they changed into dry clothes, Aria curled against him, comfortable and warm.

She listened to his heartbeat grow steadier and slower, but she couldn’t fall asleep. They had escaped their problems for a few hours, but now reality settled over her again, burying her with worries of this shelter, with its dwindling supplies and combustible politics. The world outside, with its fires and storms. No matter how much she tried to push them away, the problems wouldn’t leave her alone.

“I think you might like this piece of metal more than I do,” Perry said.

“Sorry.” She realized she’d been toying with the Blood Lord chain at his neck. “I didn’t mean to keep you awake.”

“You didn’t. I can’t sleep either. We should try talking. . . . We’re getting so good at it.”

She gave his ribs a gentle nudge for his sarcasm, but accepted the suggestion. “We need to figure out our next move, Perry. We’re stuck here. The only way that’s going to change is if . . .”

“Is if . . . ?”

“We go back to Sable. He has the Hovers we need.” She instantly wanted to take the words back. The thought of going back to Sable couldn’t have repelled her more, but what other choice was there? If they didn’t try something, they were no better than Caleb and Rune, resigned to waiting out their last days.

“You’re right about the Hovers,” Perry said. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. But we won’t have to chase Sable. He’ll come to us. I was going to tell you that earlier.”

A chill rippled down her back. “Why do you think so?”

“Cinder.” After a pause, he added, “And it’s what I’d do.”

“Don’t say that, Perry. You’re nothing like him.”

“He told me I was, in the Komodo.”

“You’re not.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he kissed the top of her head. “Try to sleep. Tomorrow’s coming, whether we worry about it or not.”

She dreamed of a fleet of Hovers, perched along the bluff and crowded along the cove’s beach, their iridescent exteriors catching the light of the Aether. And of Sable, a dark figure against the pale sand and the foaming waves, only the jewels at his neck sparkling.

In the morning, that was exactly what she saw.

36

PEREGRINE

He wants to talk to you alone, Peregrine,” Reef said. “No weapons. No one else. He said he’d clear the cove or meet you on neutral footing of your choice. There’s one other thing. He wanted me to tell you that he gave his people orders to storm the cave if you kill him.”

Perry rubbed the back of his neck and found it damp with sweat. The Tides stood around him in the central cavern, murmurs of agitation rising from them.

Perry had expected Sable to come, but he wasn’t sure if he was capable of negotiating with the Horns’ Blood Lord. The last time they’d been together, he had sworn to rip Sable apart with his bare hands. He wanted that more than ever, but he was cornered. He had no other options.

“I’ll go,” he said.

Everyone spoke at once.

The Six, cursing loudly and protesting.

Cinder, yelling, “You can’t go!”

Roar, stepping forward. “Let me go with you.”

Perry’s eyes went to Aria, quiet amid the chaos. Marron stood beside her. They watched him with worry in their eyes. They understood. Talking with Sable was his only move.

Less than ten minutes later, he walked outside, weaponless as requested.

Sable stood by the water, his stance relaxed as he waited. His territory was in the mountains—jagged peaks, topped year-round with snow—but he looked comfortable with his shoes sinking into wet sand.

As Perry neared, Sable lifted his eyebrows, amusement flashing over his face. “You know, I did say alone.”

Perry followed his gaze. Flea padded silently over the sand a few steps behind him. Perry shook his head, but it actually heartened him to see the dog.

Sable smiled. “You’re looking well. Almost healed. Wearing your chain proudly in spite of everything.”

Every one of his words carried a darker meaning. A hidden jab. It reminded Perry of his brother. Vale had spoken this way too.

“What’s going through your mind right now, Peregrine? Is it the way you’d like to beat me as I did you?”

“It would be a start.”

“We should have taken a different path, you and I. If you’d come to Rim with Olivia, as Vale and I had planned, it could have changed everything between us.”

The look on Sable’s face was so rapt, so absorbed, it made Perry’s stomach turn. “Get on with it, Sable. You’re here to offer us passage?”

Sable crossed his arms, turning to the water. “It had occurred to me.” Beneath the vibrant red and blue of the sky, the water looked gray, the waves like hammered steel. “Striking a deal would be easier than me having to force my way into that den of yours to get what I need. I hope we can find a way to compromise. The only way we survive is together, which you realize or you wouldn’t be here.”

“I have over four hundred people,” Perry said. “If you can’t accommodate all of them, then I have nothing more to say to you.”

“I can. I have room for all of them on the fleet.”

Perry knew why Sable had space on the Hovers—but he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “What happened to the Dwellers from the Komodo?”

“You were there,” Sable answered without looking away from the ocean.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Sable’s temper heated at Perry’s tone, and a low growl rumbled from Flea.

“Quite a few were lost during the insurrection. Hess’s fault, not mine. I was trying to avoid bloodshed. Of those who survived, I kept the useful ones. Pilots. Doctors. A few engineers.”

He had kept them and killed the rest. Fury washed over Perry, though he wasn’t surprised.

“How many weren’t useful?” he asked. He didn’t know why he needed a number. Maybe it was the only way to grasp the loss. To connect with people who’d died senselessly. Maybe he wanted to quantify Sable’s ruthlessness. Futile, Perry knew. He could drop a stone into the black well of Sable’s heart and never hear it hit the bottom.

“I don’t see how it makes any difference, Perry. They were just Dwellers. Ahh . . . wait. I see now. Aria. She’s made you sympathetic to the Moles, hasn’t she? Of course she has. Amazing. Three hundred years of segregation undone by a single girl. She must be as incredible as she looks.”

“So that we’re clear,” Perry said, “I don’t care if it means everyone on this earth loses any chance of surviving. If you mention her to me again, I will take your head off and watch your blood pool at my feet.”

Sable’s eyes narrowed, his mouth turning up in a faint smile. “I’ve made many enemies in my life, but I do think you’re my finest achievement.” He turned back to the water. Across the southern horizon, only a mile away at points, funnels lashed down. “I did what I had to do in the Komodo. You know what happened in the Unity. I had no interest in being discarded by the Moles. In being shut out by them like some mangy dog left in the rain. No offense to your friend here. I have Dweller numbers that I can control now. That was my only intention.”

Perry wasn’t interested in Sable’s justification for what had been a slaughter. He needed to get them back on target. On the task of leaving to the Still Blue. If he focused on his hatred, the conversation would lead in a clear and violent direction.

“You said your offer is for everyone.”

“Yes,” Sable said. “There is a place for every one of them. Dweller or Outsider. That is what I’m here to offer. But you have to bring the boy.”

Perry looked down at Flea, suddenly feeling weightless. Like he had lifted out of his body and was floating upward. He saw the shape of the Tides’ coast in his mind. He saw himself there on the beach with Sable, discussing Cinder’s life like it was a bargaining tool, when it was actually a blood sacrifice.

He forced himself to finish what had begun. “When we reach the Still Blue, we separate. As soon as the journey is done, the Tides and Horns part ways.”

“We could make some kind of arrangement when we get there, I’m sure.”

“No,” Perry said. “We make an arrangement now. You walk away from my tribe.”

“Parting ways might not be the most beneficial decision. We have no idea what we’ll—”

“Swear to it or we’re done.”

Sable stared at him, his ice-blue eyes calculating. Perry concentrated on keeping his breathing even. On controlling the furious beating of his heart. His thoughts were already shifting to Cinder and the conversation he’d need to have.

Finally, Sable nodded, accepting Perry’s demand. “After we cross, the Tides will remain yours alone.” He was quiet for a moment, a smile spreading over his lips. “So, Peregrine,” he said. “I can uphold my side of our bargain. . . . Can you uphold yours?”

37

ARIA

Perry’s eyes flashed like daggers as he came back into the cave.

He strode up to Aria, his expression intent and feral, barely pausing as he leaned in to her. “I have to talk to Cinder,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

He asked for Cinder and Marron and then he was off, making a direct path to the Battle Room.

Aria watched him go, her heart beating hard in her chest. What had just happened? What had Sable said? She looked around, seeing dazed looks on the faces of everyone around her.

“Did I miss something?” Straggler asked.

“I think we all did,” said Brooke.

They had expected a decision, news of some arrangement with Sable, but the waiting wasn’t over yet. Slowly, one by one, the crowd dissipated.

Roar stood in a small circle with the Six, exchanging ideas about what might have happened. Aria tried to follow their conversation, but she couldn’t concentrate.

“Aria,” Brooke said, walking up. “Do you have some time?”

Aria nodded. She moved away from Roar and the others and sat heavily on the wooden platform.

“I didn’t see you last night,” Brooke said, sitting next to her. “I mean I saw you, but we didn’t have a chance to talk.”

She was making an effort to be friendly, finally, but Aria felt numb. Her mind was on Perry, and she couldn’t think of anything to say in return.

Brooke looked away; her eyes scanned the darkness before coming back to Aria.

“When you first came to the Tides, I had lost Liv. And . . . Perry, too, in a way. You even took Roar, which I didn’t realize I’d care about as much as I do—”

“I didn’t take anyone.”

“I know,” Brooke said. “That’s what I’m trying to say. I know you didn’t, but it felt that way. When you came, everything that was mine suddenly became yours . . . except for Clara. You brought my sister back. You got her out of that Pod, and she matters more to me than everything else. Anyway, I wanted to thank you. And . . . sorry it took me a while to say it,” she added. Brooke stood and walked away.

Aria watched her go. She hadn’t forgotten how badly Brooke had behaved, but on top of those memories were better ones. Newer ones. Brooke’s bravery during the mission. Her loyalty to both Perry and Roar. Her quick wit with Soren.

That gave her an idea. Aria jumped up and caught up with her.

Brooke stopped, suddenly guarded. “What?”

“I could use your help with something,” Aria said. “If you’re willing.”

Brooke shrugged. “Sure.”

Aria took her to the Dweller cavern, explaining on the way. Inside, they found Jupiter, Rune, Caleb, and Soren sitting in a circle, playing a game with tattered cards.

She and Brooke sat down without waiting for an invitation.

Brooke nodded to Jupiter in greeting. Then she raised her hands and wiggled her fingers in the air. “Hi, Soren,” she said.

Soren smiled for the first time since his father had died. It was a tired smile, a little sad, too, but it was a smile. He lifted his hands, wiggling back as he said, “Hi, Laurel.”

They were teasing each other, but for a second Aria thought she saw something gentle pass between them.

Then Brooke looked at Rune and said, “How do you play this game?”

“You want to play?” Rune challenged. Her eyes flicked to Aria. It was clear she knew this was Aria’s idea.

Brooke shook her head. “I don’t want to play; I want to win. But if you give me the rules, I’ll take it from there.”

Her confidence stunned Rune, whose mouth went slack.

Soren sat up, scooting closer into their circle. “I need to see this.”

A grin spread over Jupiter’s face. He dropped an arm around Rune’s shoulders. “Go on, Ru. Teach her.”

Caleb glanced at Aria, smiling in giddy anticipation. She could almost read his thoughts. Rune and Brooke were either going to attack each other, or become fast friends before this was over.

Aria already knew the outcome.

She watched them play, trying her best to keep her thoughts here instead of on Perry and Cinder.

Some time later, Talon and Willow came running. “Aria! He’s out!”

She shot to her feet and hurried back to the main cave. Her friends followed her. Other Dwellers came too.

The Tides were somber and tense as they crowded around the stage. Aria searched every face standing around the stage twice but she didn’t see Perry.

Marron climbed up to the platform, smoothing the front of his shirt as he waited for people to give him their attention. His blue eyes found Aria. The look he sent her—sorry, worried—made her knees soften.

“Peregrine is with Cinder,” Marron said. “He’ll be along soon, but since time is of the essence, he asked me to make this announcement on his behalf.”

He addressed the Tides calmly, without changing the tone or volume of his voice. Drawing a breath, he continued. “An agreement has been reached with the Horns. We’re leaving. We’re joining them on the journey to the Still Blue.”

The crowd thrummed with surprise and cries of celebration. Amid the happy sounds were others, angry voices and harsh words.

“That can’t be right,” Roar said. “Perry would never join up with Sable.”

“Not unless he’s lost his mind,” said Soren.

Reef’s and Twig’s reactions were less coherent. A stream of curses poured from their mouths.

Marron waited for quiet to return before he spoke again. “He did indeed reach an agreement with Sable. There is passage to the Still Blue for anyone who desires it. Certainly, though, none of you are forced to come. Let there be no mistake: the journey there will be far from safe, and the destination itself is something of a question. What we know is this: Here, your life is certain to be over shortly. Our food stores are down to days. We have no wood to warm this cave beyond the end of the week. . . . We have exhausted everything. Whether you decide to take a chance on something else, be it better or worse than this, is up to you.”

A murmur moved through the crowd. Jokes about who was mad enough to stay. Aria heard them through a haze.

Marron continued to speak. He gave instructions on the preparations that were needed. Aria watched Bear and Molly and the Six leave to coordinate the groups. The logistics of their exodus.

Exodus.

The word fixed in her mind, grave-sounding. Unbelievable, despite how many months she’d anticipated this moment.

They were leaving.

The crowd thinned once again as people rushed off to gather their belongings.

Aria didn’t move. Roar and Soren had stayed behind with her. They were both watching her like they expected her to say something, so she did.

“Why is he still in there, Roar?”

“Because he knows what this means, and he doesn’t want to do it.”

“Which he?” she asked. “Cinder or Perry?”

“My guess?” Roar said. “Both.”

Within minutes, the cave bustled with activity as the Tides began packing and organizing their supplies for the journey. Food and blankets. Medicines and weapons. Everything was culled down to the most essential items and loaded in storage crates.

Sable sent two dozen of his own soldiers to assist them. Unsurprisingly, they were led by her father.

Loran barely glanced at Aria as he entered the cave. She, on the other hand, couldn’t stop watching him.

She was relieved to see him. Thrilled and terrified. For nineteen years they hadn’t seen each other, but now fate had brought them together several times.

Right away he and the Horns set a tone of dominance. Their assistance took the shape of tersely issued commands and berating comments. The Tides quickly grew tight-lipped and anxious. Only a few pushed back, refusing to be ordered. Reef and the Six held their ground, as did Bear and Molly. When Twig got into a shoving match with one of the Horns that nearly turned bloody, Aria had seen enough.

She pulled Loran aside. Her heart was racing. “Your men are too harsh. You don’t have to treat them this way.”

Loran crossed his arms, covering the horn emblem on his chest. He was shorter than Perry, narrower in the shoulders. Fit for a man his age.

Aria scowled at him. “What, now you’ve got nothing to say?”

His dark eyebrows lifted. “Actually, I’m interested in hearing your idea of how I should treat people.”

She reeled back, stung, though he hadn’t spoken harshly. If anything, he’d sounded amused.

Loran looked away from her, surveying the activity around the cave.

Aria waited for him to leave. She should leave after a comment like that, but she couldn’t. Something kept her feet planted.

Her gaze fell to the horns on his uniform. She wanted him to be someone different. Someone who would see the scene around her the same way. Someone who never would have left her, or her mother.

Loran’s gray eyes came back to hers, his expression both frustrated and hopeful. It occurred to her that she might be looking at him the same way.

“The Hovers don’t have endless supplies of fuel,” he said. “The Horns are out there—exposed—and the storm in the south is not south anymore. It is bearing down on us. East and north are no better. West is all that’s left. The only way we can go is toward water, but that won’t be an option for much longer.

“My men and I aren’t interested in almost surviving, Aria. We want to live. Perhaps that desire looks like harshness to you, but I would rather be alive and cruel than dead and kind.”

“Did you mean what you said about wanting a chance to know me?”

The question passed through her lips before she knew it. Loran blinked at her, as surprised as she was.

“Yes,” he said.

“Even if you learn that there’s a part of me that hates you?”

He nodded, a smile lighting in his eyes. “I think I’ve glimpsed that part already.”

He was teasing her, letting warmth come through. If she wanted to know him, she’d have to return that warmth. She couldn’t, and she didn’t know why, because she wanted to.

As the seconds passed, the lines around Loran’s eyes deepened with disappointment.

One of his men called to him, drawing his attention away. Loran turned to leave, but then he paused, looking back at her. “You’re assigned to Sable’s Hover—his orders. Nothing I can change, but I tried to put all your friends on the same craft as well.”

Aria watched him walk away, waiting until he was out of hearing range before she let herself say, “Thank you.”

Two hours later, Aria pulled her satchel over one shoulder and Perry’s over the other.

Talon had helped her sort through the trunks in Perry’s tent, though he had warned her repeatedly that his uncle Perry didn’t really care very much about those old things. She’d known that too. Perry cared about his bow and his knife. He cared about his land and about hunting, and most of all about people. But books? Shirts and socks? Not important to him.

She’d packed a few of her favorite items anyway, taking special care with the collection of falcon figures he’d carved with Talon. Perry’s belongings were more than what she had—which was nothing. If he didn’t want them, she’d claim them herself. His things already felt like they were hers, and his shirts were more than mere shirts. Maybe she was losing her mind, but they meant something to her just because they were his.

Now she carried her leather satchel and his, along with his bow and quiver, the weight of his belongings a poor substitute for him. For the arm she wished were resting across her shoulders instead.

Aria stopped just before leaving the cave. Most everyone was outside already, and only a few people were gathered at the stage. Perry wasn’t one of them.

She was beginning to think he was avoiding her.

She shifted the satchels higher on her shoulders, taking one final look. “Good-bye, cave. I never want to see you again.”

She stepped outside onto the sand and made her way up the switchback trail that climbed the bluff. Roar and Talon walked ahead of her with Willow and Flea. Behind her were Soren and Caleb. All she heard was the wind and their steps, and the crash of the waves growing more faint.

She felt like her head wasn’t attached to the rest of her body. Like she wasn’t attached to the earth or even to the air around her.

They were leaving. It was what she’d wanted. What was necessary. But it felt too sudden. Too wrong, with Sable. And too empty, without Perry.

As she crested the bluff, she saw the Hovers, spread in lines over the rough terrain. Giants perched on the edge of the earth. The fleet was a sight that had amazed her once. Now her eyes moved right past the massive craft, scanning the people milling around in search of a tall figure with blond hair.

Aria spotted him at the same moment he saw her. Perry stood with Cinder and Marron, the three of them huddled close. Roar, Soren, and the others flowed past her, but she couldn’t move.

Perry came to her.

He walked over, and stood before her with swollen, red eyes. He’d been crying. She hated that he had hurt so much and she hadn’t been there.

“You’ve been gone,” she said stupidly.

“I couldn’t leave Cinder.” He looked down, his gaze falling to the falcon carving in her hand. It was the one she’d taken all the way to Rim and back. She didn’t realize she’d been holding it. She didn’t even know when she’d taken it out of his pack.

Perry took it carefully from her hand. “You kept this.”

“Of course I did,” she said. “You gave it to me.”

Perry ran his thumb over it. A faint smile came to his lips. “I should’ve given you one of my arrows. I make better arrows than falcons.”

Aria bit her lip, dread snaking in her stomach. He was making small talk. Stalling. Almost everyone had loaded up. Only a few people were left, making their way into the Hovers.

He lifted his head, and the look in his eyes made her breath catch. “I didn’t know how to say this, Aria.”

“You’re scaring me. Just tell me what it is.”

She saw tears in his eyes, and she knew what he’d say before he uttered a word.

“I have to go with Cinder. I can’t let him go alone.”

38

PEREGRINE

Perry saw the exact moment that Aria understood. Her eyes flew open and her temper washed over him, pure ice. He kept talking, trying to explain.

“Cinder is going in his own Hover. . . . He’ll have to pull ahead of the fleet at the barrier of Aether, and I’m going with him.” His throat felt like it was closing up, but he pressed ahead. “What’s out there sounds bigger than anything any of us has ever seen. And you know the way he is afterward. If it doesn’t kill him, he’ll be close to dying. Maybe . . . maybe he won’t come out of it.”

Perry stared at the tufts of sea grass by his foot, unable to look at her anymore. He watched the fine blades blowing in the wind, and drew a few trembling breaths before he continued.

“I’m the only person he trusts. The only one. How can I ask him to go out there for us, if I won’t fight for him—for his life? And he’s terrified, Aria. If I’m not with him, I don’t know if he’ll go through with it. We’d all lose if that happened.”

Perry had talked it over with Marron and Cinder earlier in the Battle Room. He and Marron had even planned for the possible outcomes, and who would lead the Tides should he not make it back. Then Marron had left to speak to the Tides and, after, to arrange everything with Sable.

Now Perry looked up. Tears brimmed in Aria’s eyes. Discussing the consequences of his death had been easier than telling her that he had to leave her.

“I’ll go with you,” she said.

“No. Aria, you can’t.”

“Why not? Why is it all right for you to go?”

“Because I need you to watch Talon.” He let out a breath, frustrated with himself. That hadn’t come out right. “What I meant is that if I don’t come back, Molly will take him, but I want him to grow up knowing you and Roar. We don’t have any family left, but you—” His voice snagged. He swallowed. Couldn’t believe the things coming from his mouth. “You and Roar are that to me. And I want Talon to have you both. For anything he needs.”

“Perry, how can I say no to that?” she said desperately.

He knew she couldn’t.

“So are we saying good-bye?”

“Only for a while.”

Movement further along the bluff drew his attention. The Six were approaching, their strides long and faces grim. Others, too. Proof that word had spread despite his hope it wouldn’t. He didn’t want to say four hundred good-byes. He couldn’t bear it. This one with Aria had already broken him open.

Quickly, he pulled Aria close. “Do you hate me?”

“You know I don’t.”

“You should.”

“I don’t,” she said again. “How could I ever?”

He kissed her head and then spoke with his lips on her skin, like he might make what he said more permanent. More true. “I promise you,” he whispered. “We’ll both get there, and I’ll find you.”

He would do it. If he survived.

39

ARIA

Aria watched Perry as he spoke with each of the Six.

Gren and Twig first. Then Hyde, Hayden, and Straggler. He went to Reef last, and then moved on, speaking with Molly and Bear.

She didn’t hear anything they said. Their words were lost to her. Their clasped hands and fierce embraces seemed unreal. Brooke came over, linking arms with her. Aria felt surprise and gratitude, faint and quickly fading away.

Some time later she found herself in front of a Dragonwing. It was like someone had flipped a switch to shut her off, carried her there, and powered her back on.

Cinder, Willow, and Talon sat on the edge of the Hover, legs swinging as they took turns tossing a ball to Flea. Aria blinked, recognition filtering through her dulled mind. It was a tennis ball, the lime green bright as a shout in the gray dawn. She stared at it, marveling over the artifact, this thing that had been absent. Preserved for hundreds of years. Had the owner decided it wasn’t worth bringing on the journey to the Still Blue? Had it been carefully guarded for lifetimes only to end up in Flea’s mouth?

She heard Roar’s voice behind her, and turned.

“I never should have introduced you to Cinder,” he said to Perry.

“You didn’t,” Perry replied.

They stood alone, some twenty paces off. The crowds had thinned; most everyone had loaded into the Hovers already. Aether clawed down across the sky, the sound of the funnels loud in her ears. They were leaving just in time. The funnels were almost on top of them.

“But you met him because of me,” Roar said.

“Yeah.” Perry crossed his arms. “I did.”

They both looked over, noticing her. Neither of them looked away. They watched her, their faces grave and worried, like they thought she might blow right off the edge of the bluff. Nearby, one of the Hover engines buzzed to life. Then another and another, until her ears filled with the sound, and she didn’t hear the Aether shrieking anymore.

Her attention moved to a group coming toward them.

Horn guards. Her father. And Sable.

It was almost time to leave.

As Roar spoke again to Perry, Aria found herself shutting out the sounds of the Hovers, the wind and the surf below, and the storms, focusing solely on them.

“I don’t like this idea, Perry.”

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

Roar nodded. “Right.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

Perry had told Aria that he’d return, but he made no such promise to Roar now. As the pause stretched out between them, she wondered if Perry had only said what she’d wanted to hear.

“All right then, brother,” Roar said at last.

They embraced—quickly, firmly—something Aria realized she’d never seen before and never wanted to see again. It made them look scared and breakable, and they weren’t. They were magnificent, both of them.

Perry moved closer and called to Talon, who jumped down and met his uncle. Kneeling, Perry took Talon’s face in his hands, and then Talon was crying and she had to look away.

Her father and Sable were almost there. Wind pushed Loran’s black hair into his eyes, but Sable’s was just a shadow over his skull.

As she watched them approach, her conversation with Perry played over in her mind. He had told her that he would come back. Hadn’t he? What had she said to him? Had she been rude or ungrateful, like the last time she’d seen her mother?

The last time.

This couldn’t be.

Was it?

She could have lived every minute she’d had with him better. She should have always spoken the best words she could to him.

Sable arrived, his face flushed, his eyes full of energy. He stood talking with Loran, but Aria knew he was watching everything.

Perry hugged Talon and then sent him with Roar to board a Hovercraft. Then he came to her side and she took his hand, her weak hand somehow clinging to his scarred one. She wanted to firm her grip, to create an unbreakable grasp that would keep him close forever, but he’d chosen a path. And though she ached to stop him, she wouldn’t.

They watched Roar pick Talon up like he was a child of four instead of eight. Tears streamed down Talon’s face as he wrapped his arms around Roar’s throat. He was shouting, but Aria couldn’t hear a word he was saying. Willow ran ahead with Flea. Without seeing her face, Aria knew that she was crying too.

“Ready, Cinder?” Sable’s voice was like a hook pulling her back to reality.

Cinder tugged his black hat lower and drew his legs up into the Hover. He glanced at Sable, and then away, to Roar and Willow and Talon, who were boarding another Hover farther down the bluff.

Cinder appeared grown to Aria then, more a man than a boy. At some point in the course of his being kidnapped and held prisoner, the bones in his jaw and cheeks had widened, taking on more heft. He had a handsome face, an appealing mix of broodiness and confidence that sat just right on his features.

When she’d met Cinder, he’d lashed at her and Perry and Roar while trailing after them like a lost child. That time in the woods seemed so long ago. He fit now. He had achieved the same thing she wanted herself. Cinder had found Perry. He’d found Willow and Flea and Molly. He had a place. A family.

Aria understood why Perry was going with him. And she hated that she understood.

“Thank you for what you’re doing,” Sable said.

Aria glanced at Loran. Did he hear Sable’s falseness? He was an Aud; surely he had to.

“I’m not doing anything for you,” Cinder snapped. He stood and disappeared into the craft.

“So long as he does it,” Sable said, with a small shrug. He turned to Perry. “We went through a good deal of trouble getting here, didn’t we? Suffered a few bruises along the way, but the important thing is that we made it. Everything is prepared. The Dragonwing will be controlled remotely by one of the pilots on my craft. We’ll get you close, Peregrine. All you and Cinder have to do is the rest.”

He had the nerve to make it seem as if he were doing the difficult part. She could hear Perry’s breath beside her, fast and irregular. As hard as this was for her, it was so much worse for him.

Sable inclined his head. “Good luck.”

Aria didn’t even see Perry’s face before he hugged her. “I’ll be thinking about you,” he said, lifting her off the ground. “I love you.”

She said it back, and that was it.

All that mattered. Everything there was to say.

40

PEREGRINE

The hatch closed the moment Perry boarded the Hover, controlled by some unseen Dweller under Sable’s command.

He fell into the pilot seat, concentrating on breathing. Just breathing in and out, and not thinking about what had just happened. In the chair beside him, Cinder gripped the armrests as he stared through the windshield.

“There you are, Peregrine.” Sable’s voice filled the small cockpit. “I can see both of you, but I’m told you can only hear me.”

Perry rubbed a hand over his face and sat up, forcing himself to gather his wits. “I hear you,” he said. He wondered if Roar or Aria was also there, watching and listening. He doubted it.

Their Hover was docked on the edge of the bluff. Outside, past fifty yards of dirt and sea grass, there was only sky. Only Aether. Perry had to stop himself from imagining shooting off the bluff and dropping to the coastline below.

Faintly, through the speakers, Perry heard pilots moving through flight commands. And then one by one, the other Hovers in the fleet rose off the ground. When their craft lifted with a jolt, Cinder gasped, his eyes flying wide open.

Perry swallowed through a dry mouth. “Buckle yourself in,” he said.

Not the most soothing words he’d ever spoken, but it was the best he could do at the moment.

Cinder looked over, scowling. “What about you?”

Perry glanced down, muffling a curse as he snapped his own harness on.

The Hovers didn’t shoot over the bluff like he’d pictured. They turned south and hugged the edge of the coast, following the trail to the compound that he and Roar had walked just yesterday.

As the fleet formed up like a flock, his Hover fell to the rear. Perry’s gaze moved to the Belswan at the lead.

Talon. Aria. Roar. Marron. Reef and the rest of the Six.

He couldn’t stop listing their names. They were all in there. Sable had handpicked the people closest to Perry and brought them on his Hover. It made Perry’s stomach churn to think they were in Sable’s control now.

In minutes, the Tide compound came into view, sitting up on a small rise. It was still his land, despite the flash of Aether and the trails of fire along the hills. He still felt it calling to him—but in a voice he no longer recognized.

“Did I ever tell you that my home in Rim was bigger than the whole of your compound?” Sable asked.

A jab, but Perry couldn’t have cared less. His house had always offered enough space. Even when the Six had slept wall to wall across the floor, there had always been enough room for everyone.

“You want to compare sizes, Sable? I bet I win.”

Perry didn’t know why he said that. He’d never been one for bragging—that was more Roar’s manner—but the remark made Cinder look over and smile, so it was worth it.

“Take one last look at your land,” Sable said, changing the subject.

Perry did. As the Hovers soared past the abandoned compound, he took in as much as he could, aching and nostalgic. Amazed at this new, shocking perspective of the place he’d lived in since birth.

After passing the compound, the fleet turned west and sped up, covering the half-hour walk over the dunes to the ocean in a heartbeat.

The beach where he’d learned how to walk and how to fish and how to kiss was a blur of beige and white. Gone in an instant, and then there was only water. Only waves that stretched out as far as he could see.

This journey was nothing like what he had imagined. For years, he’d pictured himself crossing over hills or deserts with the Tides in search of the Still Blue. He had expected a land voyage, not the steel blue of the ocean below and the glaring currents of the Aether above.

“I don’t know why you came with me,” Cinder said, pulling him from his thoughts.

Perry looked at him. “Yes, you do.”

He’d explained his conversation with Sable to Cinder in the Battle Room, though Cinder had already known. Cinder had already decided to help the Tides, he’d told Perry. From the moment he’d acquiesced to Sable in the Komodo, he’d said he felt ready.

But now his eyes filled with tears. “Remember when I burned your hand? How you said that was the worst pain you’ve ever felt?”

Perry looked down at his scars, flexing his hand. “I remember.”

Cinder said nothing more. He turned forward, but Perry knew what he was thinking. His ability was a wild, untamed thing. He tried to control it, but didn’t always succeed.

Perry didn’t know whether either of them would live through the next hours. He had been around Cinder a few times when he channeled the Aether. This time would be very different—it was the only thing he was sure about.

“I want to be here, Cinder. We’re getting through this, all right?”

Cinder nodded, his bottom lip quivering.

They fell quiet again, listening to the tremble of the Dragonwing and the hum of the engine. The ocean seemed endless, hypnotic. As they put mile after mile behind them, Perry imagined hunting alone. Tickling Talon until he broke into big, hiccupping belly laughs. Sharing a bottle of Luster with Roar. Kissing Aria and feeling her breathing, sighing, shivering under his hands.

He was deep in his thoughts until he saw a thin line of brilliant light on the horizon.

He sat up. It was the barrier, he had no doubt.

“Do you see it?” Cinder said, looking at him.

“I see it.”

With every minute that passed, the line became larger, broader, until Perry wondered how it had ever looked like a line. He squinted, eyes straining at the brightness. The barrier seemed endless. Great twisting columns of Aether rained from above, but they ran upward as well, circling. The flows formed a curtain that was larger than anything he’d ever seen, reaching up infinitely—like the ocean had been lifted up to the sky.

Cinder let out a whimpering sound as the Hover slowed.

Sixty feet below, the ocean currents churned in whirlpools, stirred by the Aether. Crossing in boats would have been suicide. Without the Hovers, they’d have been doomed.

Perry could see very little beyond the curtain of Aether—it was like looking through flames or rippling water—but in the small glimpses he did catch, he saw that the color of the ocean was different there.

The waves shimmered with unfiltered sunlight.

The Still Blue was golden.

41

ARIA

Aria’s mind flitted from one thing to another. Falcon Markings that reached shoulder to shoulder. Sandals made of book covers. Opera songs and earthworms and a voice as warm as the afternoon sun. They had one thing in common.

Perry. Every thought came back to him.

She sat in the cargo hold of the Belswan Hover with Talon on one side and Roar on the other, her eyes on the window on the opposite side of the hold. She had been staring at it since leaving the bluff, watching the Aether outside and wondering if she should move closer. If she should look outside, where she might see Perry’s Hover.

She’d passed hours this way, she was almost sure, but time didn’t feel right.

Nothing did.

When the Hover slowed, her stomach leaped into her throat. She jumped up, Roar right beside her.

“What’s going on?” Talon asked.

The question was suddenly on everyone’s lips.

“We’re here,” Sable said over the speaker, silencing them. “Or I should say, almost here. Before we make the crossing, why don’t we hear some words from your Blood Lord? Go ahead, Peregrine.”

Aria heard Perry clear his throat. Her eyes filled with tears, and he hadn’t even said anything yet.

“I’ve, uh . . . I’ve never been one for speeches,” he began. “Wish that weren’t the case right now.” His voice was even and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. Like he always sounded. “I want you to know that I did my best to look after you. I didn’t always succeed, but you’re not an easy group. I think that’s fair to say. You fought me sometimes. You argued with me. You expected me to be more than a simple hunter. And because of you, I became more than that. So I want to thank each of you for letting me lead you. And for the honor I’ve had of serving you.”

That was it.

Sable came back on. “I thought that was well said, actually. Very capable, your young lord. You’ll see him again soon, when we reach the Still Blue.”

He kept speaking, but Aria didn’t hear the rest.

Her gaze moved to the window again, and she went to it. People made way for her, clearing a path. Even Sable’s soldiers stepped aside for her. Roar, Talon, and Brooke came with her, lining up beside her at the thick glass.

“There,” Brooke said, pointing. “Do you see them?”

42

PEREGRINE

The Dragonwing surged forward again, pushing Perry against the seat and making Cinder gasp.

They passed the other Hovers in the fleet, one after another, and then there was no one left. Nothing in front of them but Aether in every direction.

“You’ll need to tell us how close you want to be,” Sable said.

Perry looked at Cinder, who bugged his eyes and shrugged.

It was such an honest reaction that Perry found himself smiling. None of them had been in this situation before; how close they should be was anyone’s guess.

Strangely, Perry felt better, his focus returning by the second. He’d said what he’d needed to say to the Tides. Now it was time for action—always where he felt surest.

The craft gave another sudden lurch that threw him against his restraints; then it began to shudder. The instrument panel came alive, flashing with red warning messages, and the blare of an alarm filled the cockpit with an urgent pulse.

Cinder blurted, “That’s good! We’re close enough!”

The craft slowed and then bobbed unsteadily in place. Here the ocean was even rougher, rising in huge swells. Perry estimated a distance of one hundred and fifty yards between them and the barrier. He’d have liked to fire an arrow at it. A dozen arrows. He’d have liked to be the one to pierce it and tear it down.

“Time to do what you’ve promised us, Cinder,” Sable said. “Do this, and we’ll get both of you home. Willow is waiting for you.”

Cinder’s eyes had glazed over. Silent tears spilled down his cheeks.

Perry tugged his seat restraints off and stood, knowing this was the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. He sank into his legs to keep his balance in the pitching craft and unbuckled Cinder’s restraints.

“I’m right here,” he said, holding his hand down. “It’s all right. I’m going to help you.” Cinder’s arm shook violently as Perry helped him to his feet.

They moved into the small hold behind the cockpit together, Perry half carrying him.

The bay doors opened. Wind and spray swept inside in a violent rush. The air was cool and tasted of salt, as familiar to Perry as anything, except for the sting it carried, like bites all along his skin and over his eyes.

The wall of Aether churned and roiled ahead of him; Sable’s pilots had turned the craft parallel to it. For long moments he stared in awe, unable to look away, until he caught movement from the corner of his eyes.

Cinder was bent into a corner of the craft, his back convulsing as he retched.

“What’s happening?” Sable’s voice moved through the speakers. “I can’t see what’s happening.”

“We need a minute,” Perry snapped.

“We don’t have a minute! Get Aria up here right now,” Sable ordered.

“No! Just hold on!”

Cinder recovered and climbed to his feet. “Sorry . . . it’s so bumpy.”

Perry let out his breath, realizing Cinder was only seasick, not sick with fear. “That’s all right. I’m surprised I haven’t done it myself.”

Cinder smiled weakly. “Thanks,” he said. “For being here with me.”

Perry nodded, accepting his thanks. “Do you want me to stand next to you?”

Cinder shook his head. “I can do it.”

He moved to the bay doors, bracing a hand against the opening. Then he closed his eyes, the fear easing from his face. Webs of Aether spread beneath his skin, moving up his neck to his jaw, then higher over his scalp.

He looked relaxed. The world raged around him, but it didn’t feel that way to Perry. Standing behind him, watching him, Perry felt like the world was raging for Cinder.

Seconds passed. Perry began to wonder if Cinder had changed his mind.

“Peregrine,” came Sable’s voice, “make him—”

A blast of air pushed Perry backward. He slammed against the rear wall of the Hover, staggered.

Cinder hadn’t moved. He stayed planted by the doors.

Beyond him, in the distance, a gap formed in the barrier of Aether—a hollowed area that the currents flowed around, like river water past a rock.

The opening seemed almost insignificant in size. Twenty or thirty feet. Not big enough to fit even the smaller Dragonwings, to say nothing of the larger Hovers.

But through it, Perry could see what lay beyond the wall clearly: ocean, sitting beneath sunlight. That golden color that he’d glimpsed through the sheets of Aether was even warmer. And he saw sky. Endless, clear blue sky.

“What’s he waiting for? That’s not enough!” Sable yelled.

There was no point in talking to Cinder now. Perry had seen him like this. He was in another place. Lost to his surroundings.

“Peregrine!” Sable yelled.

As the seconds passed, relief moved through Perry. Maybe they wouldn’t make the crossing, but Cinder would live.

Horror followed quickly. What would they do now? Forge ahead through the barrier, and hope they made it through? The alternative, turning back to the cave, sounded worse. They couldn’t go back.

Cinder turned, fixing a blazing stare on him, and Perry understood.

What Cinder had just done was only the beginning. A test, to see what this would cost him. Looking into his eyes, Perry knew the answer.

Cinder turned back to the Aether.

Perry saw white, and then he saw nothing.

43

ARIA

Do you see them?” Brooke said. “They’re right there.”

Aria nodded. Perry and Cinder’s Dragonwing was just a small point in front of the barrier of Aether, but she saw it.

An explosion of light blinded her.

Shouts erupted as the Hover dipped sharply. Aria flew into the person behind her. Blinking, fighting for her vision, she righted herself and lunged back to the window.

The barrier now had a rift. A wide seam, like parted curtains. Through the barrier, the glittering ocean stretched out, as promising as anything she’d ever seen. Aria wanted to stare at it forever, but she tore her eyes away and searched for the Dragonwing.

“Where did they go?” she asked. Perry’s Hover had disappeared.

“I’m looking,” Brooke said.

Roar was there too, searching. Grabbing her arm and steadying her when their Hover surged forward. Cursing softly when Sable’s voice came through the speakers again, announcing that they were going ahead with the crossing.

“Where are they?” Aria asked, her panic rising.

Brooke’s face paled, her quiet concentration changing suddenly to wide-eyed shock. “Water,” she said.

Aria’s gaze dropped to the ocean below—where Perry’s Hover tossed in ferocious white-capped waves.

44

PEREGRINE

When Perry opened his eyes, he was on his back, the concave ceiling of the cockpit above him. He couldn’t move, and it took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t paralyzed, only pinned in the small space between the wall and the back of the pilot seat.

His right shoulder throbbed, the pain as intense as when he’d dislocated it weeks ago—and his left shin stung sharply. There were other aches, less intense. Good signs. Pain meant he was still alive.

He pulled himself up, clutching the back of the seat for balance. The Hover was tilting wildly. Waves pounded the windshield, covering them completely, each torrent of water so thick that it plunged the cockpit into darkness.

Perry lumbered back into the hold, unsteady, nauseous. He swiped at his stinging eyes and came away with blood on his hand.

Through the open doors, he saw the sea. Thirty-foot swells of white and silver and Aether blue. The craft pitched, and water rushed up to his ankles.

The Hover had become a boat—with a missing side. Miraculously it was still afloat, but that was changing with every wave that surged inside.

“Cinder!” he yelled. “Cinder!”

He could barely hear his own voice over the waves. Yelling was useless, anyway. His eyes swept across the small hold. There was nowhere for Cinder to hide. To have gotten lost. Perry staggered to the door, almost pitching forward into the ocean as the Hover hurtled down the face of a wave.

“Cinder!”

He fell against the cabin wall as the Hover rocked again and stayed there, pressed against the wall, the air rushing out of his lungs. Out and out and out. He didn’t think it would stop, the expansion of emptiness inside him.

“You survived, Peregrine,” crackled through speakers. “But not Cinder, from the sounds of it. I’m very sorry.”

Perry shot back into the cockpit. The nose of the Hover dipped suddenly, sending him flying against the windshield. The water in the craft surged forward, soaking him completely.

“Get me out of here!” Perry yelled.

The doors began to close as soon as the words left him. Across the cockpit, the dashboard controls flickered on.

Sable said, “What are you doing?”

A terrified voice answered, “Bringing the ship back up—”

“I issued no such order,” said Sable.

“Sir, if we don’t act now—”

“Shut it down.”

A beat of silence.

“I said shut it down.”

Perry cursed, turning in time to see the bay doors pause for an instant, and then open again to the raging sea. In the cockpit, the controls fell dark.

“This pains me, Peregrine. I like you very much and this isn’t what I wanted. But I can’t take any chances.”

Then Perry didn’t hear Sable any longer, only the waves pounding against the Hover.

45

ARIA

Do something!” Aria yelled. “They’re still out there!”

Loran stood at the door of the cockpit, blocking her way inside. It was the first she’d seen of him in the Hover. “I can’t let you in there,” he said.

“You have to! You have to help them! Help me!”

Loran stared into her eyes. He said nothing, but she could tell he was battling with himself.

Sable’s voice came through the speakers again. “We’ve had no contact from either Cinder or Peregrine. There’s no sign from either. We’ve lost control of their ship, and I’m afraid it’s too dangerous to attempt a rescue.”

Roar pushed forward, standing almost nose to nose with Loran. “We can’t give up on them. We have to get down there!”

Reef exploded next. “Sable could be lying! How can we know he’s speaking the truth?”

A great ringing sound swelled in Aria’s ears, and she was jostled, shoved between huge bodies that pushed and yelled. Through the noise and confusion, she still heard Sable.

“No one knows how long that barrier will remain open. Our priority needs to be making the crossing while we can.”

He kept speaking, his voice soothing, rational, as he explained why they had to leave Perry behind and how sorry he was for the Tides. Aria didn’t hear the rest. She couldn’t hear anything over the shrill sound in her ears.

Somehow she made it back to the window.

They were almost upon the barrier of Aether. Outside, the wind was brutally strong, whisking up ocean spray. Water obscured everything, but she spotted Perry’s Hover by the white ring of waves that broke around it.

It was listing to the side and half swallowed by the sea.

As she watched, they flew right past it, into the Still Blue.

“Aria, look,” Brooke said, nudging her.

Aria was still at the window. She’d been there since they’d crossed the barrier and left the Aether behind. The ringing had left her ears, but now something was wrong with her eyes. She had lost the ability to focus. She’d been staring out the window without seeing anything.

Roar stood at her side, his arm around her. Twig held a sleeping Talon in his arms on Roar’s other side. The spot where Talon had cried against Aria’s stomach was damp.

“Land,” Brooke said, and pointed. “There.”

Aria saw a break in the perfect line of the horizon. From a distance it looked like a black bump, but it broadened as they neared, gained color and depth. Becoming verdant slopes, covered in lush foliage.

These hills were folded and rolling, and they couldn’t have been more different from the rocky bluffs they’d left behind. The colors she saw were crisp, unlike the dullness caused by the smoke that had clung to the Tides’ territory. Here the land was vibrant green, the water turquoise, both almost garishly so.

A buzz of excitement swirled inside the Hover as word spread. Land had been spotted.

Aria hated them for their happiness. She hated herself for hating them. Why shouldn’t they enjoy this moment? This was a new beginning, but it didn’t feel that way to her.

She wanted to turn back—how could she possibly want to go back? But she did. Perry was the rugged cliffs and the crashing surf. He was the Tide compound and the hunting trails and everything else she’d left behind.

Talon shifted in Twig’s arms. Sleepily, he raised his head and moved from Twig’s arms to Roar’s. Aria looked from one to the other and back.

They had to be enough. Maybe someday she’d feel like they were.

Voices carried from the cockpit. The pilots and engineers, assessing the terrain. For an hour—and then two—all she heard was the careful trading of coordinates. The running of tests that evaluated freshwater sources, elevations, and soil quality. The cataloging of every feature from the air as carefully as a spider creeping over its web, with technology so sensitive, so advanced, that it seemed like magic. Once, this kind of magic had built worlds for her in the Realms. Now it was discovering a new world, taking its temperature. Mapping the best place to establish a settlement.

What they were really looking for, she knew—everyone knew—was people. Such a discovery would bring a host of issues to consider. Would they be welcome? Would they be enslaved? Turned away? No one knew.

Until Sable emerged from the cockpit. “It’s ours. It’s uninhabited,” he said, sounding a little breathless.

“Good fortune at last,” Hyde said softly. He stood behind her, tall enough to see over her head to the window. All of the Six were there, crowded around her. They had been since they’d crossed the barrier.

She didn’t know what to make of that. She didn’t know whether it was supposed to mean something, all of them standing around her like a wall.

“About time,” Hayden said. “I’ve got no fight left.”

Twig let out his breath. Reef met Aria’s eyes, and she wondered if he’d been hoping, irrationally, for the same thing as her. That the instrumentation would find one human. A young man of almost twenty, with green eyes and blond hair and a crooked smile that he used infrequently, but to powerful effect. A young man with the purest heart imaginable. Who believed in honor and who never, not for a moment, placed himself over others. But of course such a person hadn’t been found. Magic wasn’t real.

Marron stepped between Hyde and Twig, joining them. “I wouldn’t call it good fortune. Millions of people lived here once. Now there isn’t a soul left. That seems far from good fortune. And we might have benefited from some compassion and some help. We are so few.”

Aria bit her lip to stop herself from snapping at him. She didn’t know why she was suddenly so angry. It was those words: We are so few. Why had he needed to say that? They weren’t few. They were lacking. They were missing Perry.

The Hovers regrouped, and she felt their velocity slow. There was a sudden descent, which made people gasp and reach for one another. Then the Hovers put down on a beach, one after another, a flock of iridescent birds alighting.

When their craft landed, Twig said, “We’re here. I can’t believe we’re here.”

Aria wasn’t. She didn’t feel there at all.

Reef motioned Roar closer. Talon was still sleeping in Roar’s arms.

“I want the three of you to stay together,” Reef said, looking from her to Roar. “Hyde and Hayden will be watching you, starting now.”

Watching them? She didn’t understand. Roar pursed his lips and nodded, resigned, and it began to make sense. He had been after Sable since Liv’s death. That was no secret to anyone, least of all Sable. And Talon was Perry’s nephew. Eight years of age, but a successor nonetheless. Aria wasn’t sure why Reef thought she needed to be protected, but then her mind wasn’t working right.

Reef disappeared and Aria was suddenly looking up at the brothers, at Hyde and Hayden, and then looking away, because they had bows over their shoulders. Because they were the same height and blond-haired, though not the right shade of blond. Was she going to move through the rest of her life seeing failures and deficiencies everywhere? Wishing everyone was more like Perry? Wishing everyone was him?

Sable was the first to leave the Hover, with a group of his soldiers. She only heard him leave. Everyone in the large hold had come to their feet, and with Hyde and Hayden in front of her, all she saw were their backs, and arrows poking from quivers. She listened to the soft hum of the ramp being lowered, a familiar sound now. Daylight flooded the Hover, and then a warm, gentle breeze floated in, carrying birdsong and the rustle of swaying leaves.

The crowd thinned around her as people began to disembark.

A new land.

A new beginning.

She put her arm around Roar, telling herself that she could do this. She could take a few steps.

As the crowd thinned, she could see further ahead. Marron was exiting the ramp, accompanied by some of Sable’s men. She was about to search for Loran when she caught a flash of Reef’s braids. He was leaving the Hover with Gren and Twig at his sides.

Fear shot down her back, sudden and unexplainable, yanking her from her daze.

Sable always moved first. He never waited. Never hesitated to put down a threat before it ever fully materialized.

“Reef!” she screamed.

An instant later, gunshots.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Precise sounds. Premeditated. The gunshots kept going as screams filled the air.

The crowd surged, retreating into the Hover. Hyde’s back rammed into Aria’s face, smashing her nose. She reeled back, her vision going black for an instant.

“What’s happening?” Talon cried, jarred awake.

“Roar, get back!” Aria yelled, pulling him deeper inside the Hover. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Hyde and Hayden loosing arrows. She caught a glimpse of Twig on the exit ramp, lying on his side. Bleeding. Then silence came, as sudden and loud as the first gunshots.

“Weapons down, all of you,” Sable said coolly.

She heard the clatter of wood and metal as guns, bows, knives dropped.

Sable walked past them. Past Twig, who was clutching his leg and weeping. Further down the ramp, Aria saw Reef and Gren. Deadly still, both.

Slowly, Sable’s gaze swept across the Hover and found Aria. He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes sparkling and energized. Then his gaze moved to Roar.

“No!” Aria yelled. “No!”

Sable put his hands up. “It’s over,” he said. “I want no more bloodshed.” He looked pointedly at Marron, who stood just a few feet away from him, flanked by Horn soldiers. “But if any of you are interested in taking Peregrine’s position as Lord of the Tides, be advised that that position no longer exists. Any attempt to claim it will receive lethal consideration, as you’ve just seen.

“If you still think you can challenge me, I want you to remember one thing: I know everything. I know your desires and fears before they have even made themselves known to you. Yield to me. It’s your only option.” His ice-blue gaze drifted over the crowd, eliciting a silent wave of tense, held breaths. “Have I made myself clear?”

No one dared speak.

“Good,” Sable said. “This is a new beginning for all of us, but it’s not a time to throw away our past. Our traditions have worked for centuries. If we respect them—our ways, the old ways—then we will flourish here.”

Silence. Nothing but the sound of Twig’s agonized cries.

“All right, then,” Sable said. “Let’s get started. Leave all your belongings in the Hover, step outside, and form into lines.”

46

ARIA

Aria watched as Sable and his men sorted her friends into lines along the beach.

Roar went first, far away from her. Then Caleb and Soren and Rune. Brooke and Molly and Willow. She tried to identify Sable’s strategy in creating the groupings, but it seemed unorderly. He was mixing old and young. Dwellers and Outsiders. Men and women. Then she understood: That was the point. He was creating lines of people who would be least likely to band together in rebellion.

She felt no anger or fear as the sorting continued, and as the sun began its descent behind the lush hills. She felt nothing, until she saw that Talon was placed in Molly’s group. Molly would watch over him. Like Perry, she watched over everyone.

Preoccupied, Aria only then realized she stood alone. The Hovers were empty. Everyone stood in lines along the beach—except her.

Sable stood nearby; she felt his gaze on her, but she wouldn’t look at him.

“Take her back to the Hover,” he said.

Horn soldiers escorted her back to the window in the hold, which looked over calm water that was greener than blue, and so clear she could see the sand beneath. She stayed there, under guard, watching the daylight fade through the window. Even though the ramp to the beach was open, she couldn’t look toward land. Hours passed. Her eyes wouldn’t turn away from the water.

This had to change. She needed to accept what had happened, find a way to move forward somehow. She tried to come up with a plan to get to Talon and Roar, but she couldn’t concentrate for more than seconds. And just to save Talon and Roar? How would that help? Sable held every one of them in his grip.

Somehow, he’d come away with control over everything.

“Oh, don’t be so glum.”

She turned, seeing him stride up the ramp into the Hover.

He dismissed the two soldiers who’d been guarding her. Then he leaned against the inner wall of the Hover and smiled at her.

Outside, darkness had fallen—a soft darkness, unlike in the cave at the Tides. This darkness held warm shadows and the sound of rustling trees. Reef’s and Gren’s blood had been washed from the ramp, she noticed.

“Your friends are all well.” Sable crossed his arms, the movement making the jewels of his chain sparkle in the dim hold. “A few fresh blisters but nothing terrible. I put them to work, which can’t surprise you. There’s much to be done. We have a camp to set up.”

Aria stared at the chain and imagined strangling him with it.

“You’re not the first to want to do that,” he said after a moment. “The first was many years ago. A landowner in Rim—one of the wealthiest men pledged to me. I’d only worn the chain for a few months when he accused me of overtaxing him—which I did not. I am fair, Aria. I have always been fair. But I punished him for making the accusation. A hefty fine, which I thought was both lenient and fitting. In answer, he tried to choke me in the middle of a feast one night in front of hundreds of people. If he’d survived, I imagine he would have regretted that decision.

“I may not tromp around with a weapon like Peregrine or Roar, but I can defend myself. Quite well, in fact. You’d be wise to put an end to that line of thinking.”

“I’ll find a way to do it,” she said.

His eyes flared for an instant, but he didn’t reply.

“Are you going to have me killed now for saying that? You should. I won’t stop until you’re dead.”

“You’re angry that I’ve established my rule here. I’ve been assertive—perhaps to a fault. I understand. But let me tell you something. People need to be commanded. They cannot be in doubt over who leads them. Do you want to see another situation like in the Komodo? Do you want that kind of chaos to happen again? Here, when we have the opportunity to start over?”

“What happened in the Komodo was your doing. You betrayed Hess.”

Sable pursed his lips in disappointment. “Aria, you’re smarter than that. Did you really think Dwellers and Outsiders were going to hold hands and forget three hundred years of separation and hostility? Name one civilization led by two people—a pair. It doesn’t happen. Do you know what the fastest path is to creating enemies? Forge a partnership. I’m a better Blood Lord for the Tides than Reef would have been. Or Marron, though he seems able enough. I’m best suited for the responsibility.”

She couldn’t look at him anymore. She couldn’t argue with him. She didn’t have the strength.

The scent of smoke drifted in from outside. It smelled different from what she’d grown used to. Not the burning of forestland, or the stale smell of the fires in the cave. This was the scent of campfire, clean and alive, like the one she and Perry had built together only a night ago. The memory of him coaxing the flames to life between his hands filled her mind—all she saw until she realized Sable was staring at her.

With every second, his irritation became more evident. He wanted her to understand him. He wanted her approval. She didn’t want to ask herself why.

“You’re actually making me miss Hess,” she said.

Sable laughed—not what she’d expected. She remembered the sound from her time in Rim. She’d thought it appealing then. Now it sent a chill through her.

“I’ve ruled thousands,” he said. “I was ruling at your age. That should comfort you. I know what I’m doing.”

“Where are those thousands now?”

“The ones I need are where I want them. And all the people out there—Horns and Tides—are mine now. They won’t draw a breath unless I allow it. That means there will be no disruption as we rebuild. Because of me, we’ll survive here. Because of me, we’ll thrive. I’m simply giving us all the best chances possible. I don’t see how that’s wrong.”

“Killing Reef and Gren wasn’t wrong?”

“Reef would have challenged me. He was a threat, and now he isn’t. Gren was in the way.”

“Reef was only trying to protect the Tides.”

“Which I also want, now that they’re mine.”

“Why are you here, Sable? Why are you trying to convince me that you’ve done the right thing? I’ll never believe you.”

“You respected Peregrine. That means you’re capable of good judgment.”

“What are you saying? You want me to respect you?”

He stood very still for long moments. She saw the answer in his piercing gaze. “Given enough time, you will.”

Again, she could think of nothing to say in reply. If he believed that, then he was well and truly insane.

An hour later, Sable began his campaign to win her over with an invitation to supper. He had set up an area outside, up the beach, with a fire for himself and his most trusted circle. He asked her to join him.

“Fish soup,” he said. “The Tides’ specialty, I’m told. Nothing to rave about, in all honesty, but it is fresh, unlike the horror of the Dwellers’ prepackaged meals. And the stars, Aria . . . I cannot begin to describe them to you. It’s as though the heavens themselves—the very roof of the universe—have been scattered with embers. An incredible sight. I want to show it to you, but if you choose not to come, I understand.”

He was an expert manipulator, offering her the heavens. The stars! How could she refuse?

She remembered how he’d manipulated Liv, too. Sable had told Liv, his purchased bride, that he would grant her freedom if she wanted it. He could be kind, when kindness lured a person to take a sip of poison. He could be charming and considerate. He could fool a person into believing he had a heart.

Did Scires only come in two kinds? As forthright as Liv and Perry, or as dishonest as Sable?

She shook her head. She didn’t want to eat. She didn’t want to see stars. She wanted to see Roar and Talon. But Sable wasn’t offering her that.

“I don’t want to see the universe,” she said. “I don’t want to see you one second longer than I have to.”

Sable inclined his head. “Another time, then.”

Instead of disappointment, Aria saw determination in his eyes.

After he left, she tried to make herself comfortable as the night deepened. When the wind blew the right way, and when the waves were gentle enough, she heard Sable’s voice drift into the Hover, mingling with the campfire smoke.

He spoke with his soldiers about plans for the coming weeks. Priorities.

Shelter. Food and water. Control of the Tides.

She tried to focus. She might learn something helpful. But the words blew right through her mind; she couldn’t hold on to anything.

Soon she grew cold and began to shiver. More likely, she realized, shock was what shook her uncontrollably. The temperature had hardly dropped since sunset, and she only felt cool when a breeze carried inside. She curled up on her side, but that didn’t help. Eventually, her captors noticed.

“I’ll get her a blanket,” one of the men said. She watched him reach into the storage lockers. She watched him return.

“Is Sable going to cut your throat open for giving me this?” she asked as he stood over her.

The man startled, surprised to hear her speak. Then he dropped the blanket on her. “You’re welcome,” he said gruffly, but she saw fear flicker in his eyes. Sable’s own men were terrified of him.

As he left, returning to his post by the ramp, the strangest sensation swept over her, like she wasn’t just missing Perry, aching for him, bleeding for him. She was grieving for the loss of herself. This was changing her. She would never be the same.

At some point, her father arrived.

Loran came carrying a bowl of soup. He moved with effortless grace, smooth and swift and without spilling. He had excellent balance, like all Auds. Like her. Whether she admitted it to herself or not, a connection existed between them.

Aria met his eyes, and saw that connection in his gaze. The openness and understanding in his eyes rocked her. She suddenly found herself blinking back tears.

She would not cry. If she did, then it would be real, and none of this could be real.

Not Perry’s death, or Sable’s control of everything, or her solitary imprisonment here in a Hover.

Loran set the bowl down, sending the men who’d been guarding her away. He listened for a while, staring outside, no doubt ensuring they had privacy before he spoke. Or maybe giving her time to regain her composure. She had to fight for it, drawing a few breaths against the ache in her chest, and focusing on the sounds of the night until the raw feeling in her throat receded.

It had grown quiet and still. No trace of Sable or his advisers anymore. Not even a breeze. Time felt as though it had stopped, until Loran turned to her and spoke.

“He divides people to break morale, as you’ve probably guessed, and it’s working. The Tides are confused and angry, but they’re unharmed—except your friend.”

“Roar?”

Loran nodded. “He attacked one of my men earlier. Hess’s son was involved as well. They were trying to get to you. I tried to inform them that you weren’t being harmed, but they wouldn’t believe me.

“They’re alive for now, but when Sable hears of it, which he soon will, they won’t be. He will snuff out any spark he sees—you saw that earlier. He will put down any threat at once, especially now. This is the most critical time for him. He’s firming up his rule before the Tides can organize or react.”

Aria let out a slow breath. It was too much to take in. Perry and Reef were gone, and now suddenly Roar and Soren were in danger too?

“What should we do?” she asked.

“Not we,” Loran said sharply. “I brought you soup. While I did so, I gave you information about your friends, but I did not help you. He’d know if I did. As it is, it won’t be long before he becomes suspicious. He’ll know through our tempers that there’s something more between us.”

Aria considered the words something more. She could accept that description of them. It was vague enough. It left her room to decide exactly what kind of more simmered between them.

“If he learned about us, would he come after you?”

“If he believes there’s any chance I’d come between you and him, yes. Without a doubt.”

“There is no me and him.”

“You’re here, Aria. Alone, while everyone else is out there.”

“Why?” she said, her voice rising in pitch. “What does he want with me? Am I just another one of his tools, like Cinder and Perry? Why did you tell me about Roar if you won’t help me?”

“I told you where my allegiance lies, Aria. I’m sworn to him.”

“Why?” she cried again. “How do you serve a man like that? He’s insane. He’s a monster!”

Loran leaned close. “Lower your voice,” he hissed. Was he trying to intimidate her with his size?

She leaned in as well, matching him. “You make me sick! You’re pathetic and weak and I hate you.” Rage lit inside her as she spoke, cutting through the numbness and shock. Her thoughts kept tumbling out. “I hate that you left my mother. I hate what you did to me. I hate that I’m made of half of you.”

“I don’t think much of you, either. I thought you had a backbone, but all you seem capable of doing is staring out of windows. I’d never have guessed a child of mine could wallow so much.”

“Take your stupid soup!” She threw the bowl at him.

Cursing, Loran jerked back, gaping at the soup that dripped over the horn emblem on his black coat.

She kicked him while his eyes were down, slamming her boot into his temple.

He should have flinched. Loran was Sable’s highest-ranking soldier. He should have made a move to protect himself, but he took the kick squarely and fell back with a thud.

For an instant, Aria was stunned. Then she shot to her feet and tore down the ramp.

She’d just reached the sand when she heard two words uttered softly behind her.

“Good girl,” said her father.

47

ARIA

She ran.

She sprinted over the hard sand along the water’s edge. A trail of high-powered lights illuminated a path from the Hovers, up the wide beach, to the tree line. There, through a web of branches, she saw a brighter concentration of light. The campsite.

She ran away from it, leaving behind people and Hovers, with no notion of where she was going except toward darkness.

When the lights were well behind her, she snatched a piece of driftwood in case she came across anyone and headed toward the trees.

Her thighs burned as she raced over softer sand. Halfway to the tree line, she noticed something looked different. Something besides the shape of the beach, or the delicate tropical trees.

Then she realized everything looked different.

Aria’s breath caught, and she stopped in her tracks. She hadn’t looked at the sky yet. She’d been so lost, so numbed, that she hadn’t even looked up.

She sank to her knees and lifted her head. She had become so accustomed to the rippling blue tides closing her in, pressing down on her, but this sky was open . . . this night was infinite.

She felt like she might fall upward forever, drifting into space. Floating across the stars. Sable had spoken of embers scattered across the roof of the universe. It was a good description.

Aria shook her head, not wanting his voice in her mind. She didn’t care what Sable thought of the Still Blue.

It was the worst time to think of Perry then, but she couldn’t help it. She imagined him there, grinning, his hand closed over hers.

A sob slipped through her lips. She shot to her feet and broke into a sprint. She reached the tree line at the top of the beach and plunged into the woods, where she slowed down, her breath coming in gasps. The night air smelled loamy and green, and she wondered what Perry would have thought—

No. No. No.

Not now. She pushed him out of her mind. Concentrating on her hearing, she took her time as she wove through the lush woods, creeping back to Sable’s camp. The sound of voices drifted to her ears. She followed them, growing steadier and more focused with each step. She had to find Roar and Soren.

The voices led her to a wide clearing. Aria crouched, her heart pounding.

Dozens of people slept in blankets under the open sky.

The men she’d heard were guards, two of them, who spoke softly to each other. They had positioned themselves on a large overturned tree on the opposite side of the clearing, which gave them an elevated lookout over the camp.

She scanned the people nearby, unsure what to do next. There had to be nearly a hundred people in this group alone. Since they were under guard, she knew they had to be Dwellers or her friends from the Tides, but in the darkness, wrapped in blankets, every one of them looked the same.

How was she going to find Roar and Soren?

She pulled herself up and utilized all the power of her Sense to move with absolute silence as she rounded the clearing. Twenty yards of open land stretched between the sleeping people and the tree line where she hid, but near the guards that distance was much smaller. If she drew closer to them, she’d have a better chance of spotting the people she hoped to find.

As she crept toward the guards, her eyes went to one of the larger sleeping figures, drawn by the shine of blond hair. Hyde. But she didn’t see Hayden or Straggler. It was the first time she’d seen Hyde without one his brothers. Not far off, she also spotted Molly with Talon curled between her and Bear.

Should she try to free them all? Where would they go? Roar and Soren had a chance of disappearing. They could run into the woods and hide, but could Molly, whose joints bothered her doing the simplest things? And what about Talon? Sable had all the soldiers and weapons. He’d hunt them down and punish them for escaping.

She couldn’t help everyone, but only Roar and Soren were in imminent danger. Quietly, Aria stole closer to the guards. Soren and Roar had caused problems for the Horns already. Most likely they’d be directly under watch.

She drew nearer—as close as she could without risking exposure—but she still couldn’t distinguish between the sleeping lumps. Too many of the huddled forms were turned away, or had blankets pulled over their faces, or it was just too dark to make them out.

The guards’ conversation drew her attention.

“How much longer, do you think?” said one.

“Of this? Who knows. I don’t see how the Tides will ever come around.”

“He’ll sway them. Sable always finds a way.”

“Yeah . . . he does.”

There it was again. The fear the Horns had of Sable, their own leader. Aria heard it in their voices.

Panic clawed at her stomach as she stared at the final stretch between her and the men. Half an hour had passed since she’d escaped from the Hover, she guessed. How much longer until Sable’s people started searching for her? Were they already?

An image of Liv lying on the balcony in Rim flashed before her eyes, pushing her into action. She hurried, almost to the guards when she stepped on a twig and heard it snap. The sole of her boot muffled the sound, but she froze, silently cursing herself. Haste had made her careless. There was little cover where she stood, and any Aud within fifty feet would’ve heard her—the guards were less than half that. She waited, adrenaline coursing through her, making her feel weightless.

The two men didn’t look her way. They didn’t even pause in their conversation. But amid the sleeping people in front of them, a dark head lifted, turning slowly toward her before lying back down.

She couldn’t see Roar’s features in the darkness, but she knew it was him. She knew his shape and the way he moved.

Aria sank to the ground, setting the heavy piece of driftwood down. She picked up the twig under her foot. Her right hand was weak, but she could still do this.

Please work, she prayed. This was either a perfect test, or suicide.

She snapped the branch again.

Neither of the guards turned. Not Auds, then. Unlike Roar, who responded to the sound by raising both arms up high, his fingers interlaced like he was stretching.

She shook her head. A little obvious, but Roar did everything with a bit of flash.

Time to move. She was as sure as she could be. The guards weren’t Auds. Roar knew she was there. She picked up the driftwood and moved again, drawing as close as she dared. Then she stopped and firmed her grip, licking her lips.

“In five seconds, cough loudly,” she whispered, knowing Roar would hear her.

She counted off the seconds. When Roar coughed, she sprinted the last steps to the Horns.

The men looked at Roar, oblivious to her as she charged them from behind.

She swung the driftwood at the closest man’s head, putting all her weight behind the strike. She did it with so much force that she felt the muscles in her back pull. The sound of the impact was horrid and made her gasp despite herself.

He toppled over the log, falling limply behind it.

She turned, searching for the second man. Roar had him on the ground already, trapped in a headlock. She heard the guard’s feet buck and scrape on the dirt. A soft gurgle, and then nothing.

Roar sprang up. He held his hands in front of him oddly. Then she saw why.

“Your hands are tied?” she whispered.

“Yes. I showed you.”

“Just get Soren.”

Roar bent by one the sleeping figures. A second later, Soren popped up.

Their noise had woken Twig—another Aud. Aria saw him assess the situation and come to the same conclusion she had. If they all tried to leave, they’d wake Sable’s guards elsewhere—who would be armed and likely wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.

“Later,” she said to him. Later, she’d figure out how to help the rest of them.

Twig nodded. “Get them out of here.”

Aria melted back into the woods. She caught up with Roar and Soren—who sounded like a rhinoceros crashing through the undergrowth, but she could do nothing to help that.

They ran for half an hour until Roar stopped them.

“We’re good,” he said. “There’s no one behind us.”

Sweat ran down Aria’s back, and her legs trembled. Waves broke gently in the distance, and the trees rustled with a breeze.

She looked at Roar, noticing the dark shadow pooled under his left eye. A black eye. From fighting Sable’s men, she realized.

“What’s wrong with you, Roar?” she yelled, unleashing the fury and fear she’d been holding back. “You attacked Sable’s guards?”

He jerked back in surprise. “Yes! You were alone in that Hover and I thought . . . I was worried, all right?” Roar looked at Soren, who put his hands up.

“I wasn’t worried,” Soren said. “I just felt like hitting somebody when he did.”

Aria shook her head, still furious, but she couldn’t waste any more time. “You have to go. Both of you. Go somewhere. I need to get back.”

Roar scowled. “What? Aria, you’re coming with us.”

“I can’t, Roar! I promised Perry I’d watch Talon. I have to go back.”

“I made him the same promise.”

“But you can’t keep it anymore, can you? You should have thought before you made yourself a target.”

“I was already a target!”

“Well, you made it worse!” she yelled, her eyes filling.

“He killed Liv and beat Perry. I had to try to get you!” Roar tugged at his hair in anger, then dropped his hands. “How is what I did different from this—from what you just did?”

“It’s different because my plan worked.”

He pointed. “You going back there—to Sable—is a plan that worked?”

“I just saved your life, Roar!”

He let out a vicious curse and stalked away. She wanted to scream at him for walking away from her, which made no sense. Wasn’t she trying to walk away from him?

Soren was leaning against a tree, pretending not to pay attention. It occurred to her how strange this was. Her and Roar fighting while Soren stood by, calm and quiet.

Roar returned. He appeared in front of her, his eyes gentle and pleading. She looked into them and couldn’t bear it.

“Aria, if I lose you too—”

“Don’t say another word, Roar. Don’t make me doubt. Don’t make me want to leave with you.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a desperate whisper. “Then just say yes. Come with me. Don’t go back there.”

She pushed her sleeves at her blurry eyes, hating how easily she felt like crying now. It was a reflex. Any small thing that reminded her of Perry brought the urge. She couldn’t let the tears go, but she felt them. She carried them with her everywhere she went. She imagined holding them there for the rest of her life. An ocean of tears, existing inside her.

“Aria . . . ,” Roar said.

She shook her head and backed away. “I can’t.” She had promised Perry. She had to look after Talon. No matter the cost. “I have to go,” she said.

Then she raced back to Sable’s camp.

48

PEREGRINE

Is he breathing, Roar? Is he alive?”

“Shut up. I’m trying to listen to his heart.”

Perry forced his eyes open. Through a bleary film, he saw Roar leaning over his chest. “Off. Get off me, Roar.”

Perry’s throat was so dry that the words were no more than rasps. All he could think about was water. He ached for it. Every fiber of his body demanded it. His head pounded. It hurt so badly he was afraid to move.

Roar’s head popped up and his eyes flew wide. “Ha!” he yelled. “Ha!” He shook Perry by the shoulders. “I knew it!” He leaped to his feet and shouted that he knew it, over and over, until he finally sprawled on the sand. “That was horrible. That was so horrible,” he said between pants.

Soren, who’d been watching Roar in silence, appeared over Perry. “Want some water?”

They gathered by a fire as the sun set, surrounded by foreign scents and sounds. Every breath was like hearing a new language—a process of recognizing soil and plant and animal scents, but also learning them as new. This land was green and young, and even as spent as he felt, his heart thudded with the desire to explore it.

After drinking enough water to make his stomach cramp, Perry learned that Roar and Soren had escaped from Sable’s camp two days ago. They’d been familiarizing themselves with the terrain, finding freshwater and food, while trying to devise a plan for taking Sable out. Then it was Perry’s turn to talk. He told them what had happened with Cinder on the Hover.

“That was the last time you saw him?” Roar said. “Before you blacked out?”

Perry considered that, remembering those final moments. Saying he blacked out didn’t feel right. He’d seen only white. But he nodded and said, “That was it. I didn’t see him after that.”

Roar rubbed his jaw, giving a small shrug. “Maybe that’s how it should have been. I doubt you could have helped him.”

“But I would have tried,” Perry said. “I’d have done all I could.”

Soren poked at the fire with a stick. “From where I’m sitting, you did.”

It was a decent thing to say. Perry nodded in thanks.

He leaned his back on the raft—the raft that had saved his life—and wove his fingers together on his stomach. He wanted to rush to Aria but he was too weak. He had to replenish the water his body desperately needed. Hour by hour, his muscle cramps and his headache faded and he felt more like himself.

He saw the scars on his hand, scars Cinder had given him, and his throat tightened. The feeling he had of incompletion—of wishing he could have done more, or differently, or better—wasn’t new. But he was tired of bashing his head against the past. He tried to do right—in every situation. Sometimes that wasn’t enough, but it was all he could do. The only thing he truly had power over. He was learning to accept that.

He watched the ashes from the fire flicker upward into the darkness. To the stars. The lid had come off the sky, and now they were connected, earth with everything. Him to Cinder. To Liv and his brother and his father.

He was so close to feeling peace. Only one thing stood in his way now.

“Per, how did you know that thing was on the Hover?” Roar asked, tipping his chin to the raft.

Perry’s eyes moved to Soren, remembering the Dweller’s comment when they’d been preparing to go after Cinder in the Komodo.

That’s an inflatable boat, Outsider. And if that’s what you’re wearing, I’m out of this operation.

Soren grinned. “Go on, admit it. I saved your life.”

His tone was friendly. He had changed in the past week, Perry thought. The way he looked and the way he spoke.

“You helped,” Perry said. When Sable had left him for dead, Perry had shot right to the storage lockers, Soren’s wisecrack loud in his mind. He had hoped the Dragonwing, a smaller craft than the Belswan, also carried the raft. Luck had been on his side. He’d immediately located the inflatable boat, which had assembled with just the press of a button. He could say one thing about the Dwellers: they built good ships.

Perry had escaped the Dragonwing with only seconds to spare. He’d watched the Hover sink behind him and then he’d come through the barrier of Aether, the last of the Hovers in the fleet soaring above him.

They’d pulled ahead quickly then. The fleet had probably made the journey there in hours, where he had spent a day battling rough seas, and then two more in calmer water.

Three days alone, but they hadn’t been difficult. He preferred hunting, but he was a fisherman by birth. He’d been fine with the ocean ahead of him, a new sky above. His only real problem had been the lack of water.

Dehydration, he’d realized quickly, was worse than burns or the pound of a mallet. By the time he’d dragged himself and the raft up the beach, into the cover of the trees where Roar and Soren found him, reality had lost its sharpness. He’d thought that maybe he was only imagining that he’d reached land when Roar and Soren showed up.

“It would have been easier on me if you’d taught me how to fly the Hover,” Perry said to Soren now. “Could have saved me a few days.”

Soren grinned. “You keep saying you want to learn, Outsider. I’m ready. I’ll teach you anytime.”

“I’m proud of both of you,” Roar said. “I just have to say that.”

He was joking, but there was a seed of honesty there. Perry was sharing a jug of water with Soren. They were talking easily. Perry had never thought it possible.

He sat up and asked the question that had been on his mind all day. “How is she, Roar?”

Roar met his eyes directly. “How would you be if you thought she was dead?”

Perry couldn’t even stand to imagine it. He found himself biting down into his teeth. “What has Sable done?” he said instead.

Silence.

“Tell him, Roar,” Soren said.

Perry leaned back and shut his eyes. He already knew.

“Reef.”

“Yes,” Roar said. “Gren, too. The moment we got here. Twig was shot, but he was holding on when we left.”

Reef. Perry sucked in a breath and held it there, pushing back on the pressure. In half a year, he’d become so much to Perry. Brother. Father. Friend. Adviser. Perry’s eyes blurred, another gap opening inside him.

“I’m sorry, Per,” Roar said.

Perry nodded, bracing himself. “Marron?”

“He’s fine. At least he was when we left.”

It made sense. Marron was brilliant and respected, but he wasn’t ambitious or aggressive. He’d never challenge Sable for power—he’d reason for it. Reef had represented the only real threat to Sable. He would have picked up the Tides as his own. He’d have done it for Perry.

“Sable has control of everything,” Soren said. “You could feel it even before he set down on the beach. As soon as you left with Cinder, he took control. He’s a madman. Completely psychotic.”

“He’ll be completely dead soon,” Perry said.

For the next hours, he talked with Roar and Soren about the camp Sable had set up. They discussed the basic layout of the settlement, the surrounding geography, and the advantages Sable had—which were many.

When it was late, Roar said, “What are you thinking, Per?”

Perry rolled his shoulders back, his muscles finally loosening and feeling stronger. “We go after him. But we have to do it the right way. If I show up and the Tides see me, it could turn into an uprising. It could escalate and become us against the Horns. That can’t happen. They have all the weapons. . . . It’d be a bloodbath. Worse than the Komodo.”

Roar crossed his arms. “Then we hit him fast.”

“Right. And while he’s not expecting it. We’ll come up on him tomorrow night in the darkness. We get close, and we take him down when he’s not looking.” He looked at Roar and Soren. “It means you have to trust me, and do exactly what I say this time. No mistakes.”

49

ARIA

Sable was planning a party.

“What we need is a celebration of our triumph. An event to celebrate a new beginning,” he said, his bold voice filling the quiet afternoon, though he spoke only to her. He turned in profile, waving out beyond the Hover door to the sandy beach outside. “Darkness and ruin are behind us. We left that poisoned land and we made it here. Most of us. The good lot of us. And this land shows every sign of being more hospitable. More robust. We’ll flourish here. Our lives will be so much better, and that deserves a feast.”

They were in the Belswan’s cargo hold. Aria hadn’t stepped outside since she’d freed Roar and Soren two days ago. She had come back to the camp just before dawn, and found her father pacing by the Hover. “It took you long enough,” Loran had said as she slipped inside. Right back to here, her prison cell.

She’d had no company other than the two mute guards who kept watch over her, and Sable, who visited her in the mornings and afternoons. Each time, he’d talked at length about his search for the best location to establish a city, carrying on a one-sided conversation about progress and the future, his words airy, floating right past her.

But now it seemed his search had ended.

Sable turned back to her, the look in his eyes restless, manic. “I had a field cleared this morning. It’s beautiful, Aria. It sits right beside a small river that flows down from the mountains. You remember my home in Rim? Proximity to water is essential to any prosperous civilization. I’m going to build a similar city, but I’ll improve upon it.” He smiled. “I’m getting ahead of myself. A city will come soon enough. First, we’ll dance on the very ground that will become the streets of Cape Rim. Then tomorrow we set about the work of establishing a new civilization.”

Finally, he turned his full focus on her and frowned. He seemed surprised that she wasn’t swept up with him.

“Aria,” he said, moving closer to where she slouched against the inner wall of the Hover, beneath the window where she’d last seen Perry’s ship.

Sable knelt, studying her. “Will you come with me tonight as my guest? I’d prefer not to force you.”

She smiled. “And I’d prefer you dead.”

Sable’s pupils flared with surprise at hearing her speak. He recovered quickly. “That will change. One day it will be better between us.”

“No, it won’t. I will always hate you.”

“Will you be the only one, then?” he asked, eagerness tingeing his voice. “The only one I can’t bend to my liking?”

Aria couldn’t answer that question. If she told him yes, she would only feed his sick obsession.

Outside, Kirra approached with Marron. Sable must have heard them, but he didn’t turn to look. He kept his gaze on Aria, as if by the force of his intensity alone he could bend her to his wishes.

Kirra stepped inside, her red hair losing its brilliance as she moved into the shadow of the Hover. She still had a nasty bruise over her jaw, where Aria had hit her.

Marron was disheveled and sunburned. He brought a trembling hand up, covering his mouth when he saw Aria. Did she look as dead as she felt?

Kirra’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “He’s here, Sable,” she said.

“Wait outside with him,” Sable replied. “I’ll be along soon.”

It was unnerving, the way he spoke with Kirra behind him while staring at Aria.

“She’s going to betray you like Olivia did,” Kirra said, anger seeping into her voice.

“Thank you, Kirra. Outside, please.”

Kirra shook her head at Aria and dragged Marron outside.

“Are you going to hurt him?” Aria asked when they were gone.

“Marron? No. I need him. I’ve called him here to get a status report. Nothing more.”

For a long moment, Aria just breathed as relief swept over her.

Kirra had stopped to speak with someone outside, her voice drifting into the Hover.

“How can you stand her?” Aria asked.

Sable smiled. “She’s served me for many years. I like her well enough, particularly when there is no one better around. Before you say anything, remember that she’s a Scire. Kirra knows where she stands with me and she accepts it.”

That word, Scire, took Aria right to Perry. She looked down at her hands, unable to hold Sable’s gaze.

“I’m tired, Aria. I want peace.”

“You want peace now that you have taken everything.”

“Not quite everything.”

She looked up. The desire in his expression nauseated her. At least he knew that. Her temper would tell him so without her having to say a word.

“We could accomplish great things together,” he said. “The Dwellers look to you as a leader, and you have the respect of the Tides. We can rebuild here. We can bring them together. Can’t you see it? Can’t you picture what we could be?”

“I can picture all the ways I want to end your life.”

Sable sat back on his heels, letting out a sigh. “You need some time. I understand. I’m in no hurry. You’ve suffered quite a lot.” He stood, pausing, his lips turning up. “I’ll send your father for you later.”

She froze, her heart squeezing in her chest. How long had he known about Loran?

Sable’s smile widened. “No need to worry. He’s a trusted warrior. A man of great character. That should make you very proud. He is very valuable to me. Almost indispensable,” he added with a smile. He moved to the ramp, turning back for one last comment. “Oh, and I’ve been meaning to tell you. Your friends who mysteriously disappeared? Roar and Soren? Not to worry. I’ll find them for you. My people are looking for them.”

Loran arrived to fetch her at dusk.

“He knows,” Aria said as he walked up the ramp.

Loran crouched in front of her. “Yes.”

“You’re in danger because of me.”

“I want to be.”

“You want to be in danger because he knows you’re my father?”

“I’d prefer that he didn’t know, but he does. It was bound to happen. He was bound to scent how I feel. He is like all Scires . . . a master at using leverage to get what he wants. An expert manipulator.”

“Not all Scires are that way,” she said.

“No . . . you’re right. Not all.” With a sigh, Loran sat. “Sable applies pressure on the psyche,” he said, his voice unhurried and soft. “He’s very pleased to have learned that we’re connected. I have the respect of his soldiers, and he is wise enough to know that he needs me to keep order. And now he’s confident that I won’t step out of line. He has found a very big weakness of mine.”

“Would you have stepped out of line?”

“Never before,” he answered quickly. “But recently . . . recently someone I met has me asking questions about integrity and what it’s worth.”

“What is it worth?”

“A great deal.”

“So now you’re questioning him, but he has a means of controlling you . . . and that’s me?”

Loran shook his head. “You misunderstood. I’m not questioning him. I’ve always known who he is. What I’m questioning, thanks to a girl with a tooth-rattling kick, is who I am.”

She hugged her knees, unsure what to say. She’d hoped that finding her father would lead to her knowing herself better. She’d never considered it might also happen the other way around. “So . . . who are you?”

His gaze fell to his boots. “I don’t know where to start, Aria. This is new to me. I want to tell you so much, but I don’t want to burden you with more than you want to know.”

“I want to know everything.”

He lifted his eyes, and Aria saw a change in them. She thought it was surprise at first. Then she realized it was tenderness.

“My family,” he began, “and yours, has been in the service of the Horn Blood Lords for generations. We are soldiers and advisers who hold the highest military positions. It’s the life I was born to, the one I knew I’d lead eventually, but twenty years ago, when I was close to your age, I wanted nothing to do with it. When I asked my father for a few years to be on my own, he granted me one. It was more than I had expected.”

Loran had music in his voice. It was beautiful.

“I’d only been traveling a month when a Hover chased me down on the edge of the Shield Valley. I found myself inside a Dweller Pod, a place I’d only ever heard about in rumors.”

Loran glanced behind him, out to the beach. “There is no forgiveness in the north. We do things a certain way, as you know by now. So when I was taken captive, I expected something along the lines of what happened to Peregrine. Your mother was the first person I saw when I came to. She did not look frightening.” He smiled to himself then, lost in an image of Lumina that Aria wished she could share. “She promised I wouldn’t be mistreated. She told me I would go home one day. I heard sincerity in her voice. I heard kindness. I believed her.”

As he spoke, Aria felt like she was wearing a Smarteye. Part of her listening to Loran. Part of her in a Realm in which Lumina was a young researcher, fascinated by an Outsider.

“From that moment on, I didn’t worry. I had left Rim to see what was different from what I knew.” He lifted his shoulders. “I couldn’t have landed in a better place.

“Her studies dealt with adaptations to stress. Dwellers, she explained, had less resilience to it than we do. Sometimes she’d put me into simulations in the Realms, but most of the time she asked me questions about the Outside. Eventually, she was answering my questions.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “I don’t know the exact moment that I fell in love with her, but I will never forget the moment she told me she was with child.

“As much as I cared for her, Aria, and I did, very deeply, I realized I would never be accepted into her world. Her people would never be mine. She couldn’t come to the outside with me, either. I knew that, but I still asked her a thousand times. But she wanted our child to grow up in safety. In the end, we both agreed the Pod would be the best place for you.”

Aria bit her lip until it stung. Our child. For a few seconds, the words flapped around her mind like bats. “So you left?”

Loran nodded. “I had to. When I returned to Rim, I’d been gone exactly a year. Leaving her was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

A sense of unreality seeped through her as she stared at him. Her eyes filled, and her lungs felt like they were going to explode.

“What is it, Aria?”

“I lost my mother, and I lost Perry. If I started to care . . .”

Her tears came like a torrent. They came so violently, with such an eruption, that she could only yield to them, letting the pain shake her, unravel her piece by piece.

After a long while, her grief shaped into something different.

Surprise.

Loran’s arms wrapped around her, holding her. When she looked up, she saw concern on his face—intense concern—and a flicker of something else.

“I’m sorry you’re hurting,” he said, answering her unspoken question, “but this is my first act as your father. At least it feels that way to me. And it’s . . . very fulfilling.”

She brushed her fingers over her eyes. “I want to try. I want to give us a chance too.”

They weren’t the prettiest words she’d ever spoken, but they were a start. And judging by Loran’s smile, they were enough.

They turned toward the open hatch at the same time, following the sound that carried from outside. Drums pounding in the distance.

“We’d better go,” Loran said.

Sable’s party had begun.

The clearing in the woods was much larger than the one at the heart of the Tides’ compound. It was bordered on one side by a river that stepped down the hill as it wove around smooth boulders. Lush foliage decorated the banks, and trees bowed low, trailing their branches in the burbling water. It couldn’t have been more unlike the deadly cold and stark alpine shores of the Snake River.

Around the area, torchlight wavered. Night was falling, the deep blue sky pierced by the stars that flickered to life one by one. Aria heard music. Two drums beating a rhythm, and strings as well. A few instruments had survived the crossing, then.

Sable was right. This place was beautiful. This land had promise. But she couldn’t separate the suffering of the people from the beauty of the place.

Across the field, the Tides gathered in subdued groups, standing, sitting in circles. Her eyes moved over them, her stomach twisting with anger. They didn’t look like guests at a party or like proud founders of a new settlement. They looked like what they were: captives.

Her gaze landed on Hyde. He was so easy to spot, tall as he was. Hayden and Straggler were scattered elsewhere, one close, the other across the field, near Twig. The remaining members of the Six looked lost without Reef, Gren, and Perry. Without one another.

Aria located Marron with a circle of children around him and saw Molly and Bear there too.

Sable’s people stood like watchdogs, strategically placed around the clearing, imposing with their weapons and black uniforms, horns twisting in sinister patterns on their chests.

“Great party,” she said.

Beside her, Loran said nothing.

As they walked toward the center of the clearing, where a table sat up on a dais, she spotted Caleb and Rune with a few other Dwellers. Of the thousand or so people in the clearing, the Dwellers made up a fraction. So much for their supposed superiority over Outsiders.

“Aria!”

Talon ran over, Willow on his heels. He wrapped his arms around Aria’s waist.

“Hey, Talon.” She held him for a second, feeling better than she had since she’d left the cave. And keeping him close meant keeping Perry close in some way too.

Not far off, a few of Sable’s men watched them.

“We don’t know where Roar is,” Willow said. “No one’s telling us anything.”

Her eyes were puffy and scared. She didn’t look like herself. No one looked like themselves.

“He’s fine,” Aria said. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“What if he’s not?” Several people looked over at Willow’s raised voice. “What if they shot him?”

“They didn’t.”

“How do you know? They shot Reef and Gren. They shoot everybody!”

A low growl drew Aria’s attention to Flea.

“I will have that dog shot as well, if you can’t control him,” Sable said as he walked up. He spoke evenly, like he was stating a fact.

“I hate you!” Willow yelled.

“You can’t do that!” Talon yelled. Flea’s barks became grittier and louder. Hyde came over, drawing Talon and Willow away. Hayden picked Flea up and carried him off.

Aria couldn’t believe that only the children would stand up to Sable. This place, which should have meant survival and freedom, was a prison.

Sable’s gaze fell on her. He smiled and held out his hand. “Join me? I have a special place set up for us.”

She took his cold grip, only one thought in her mind.

Sable needed to die.

50

PEREGRINE

From his hidden spot in the darkness, Perry watched Aria take Sable’s hand.

“I can’t be the only one who feels sick,” Soren said.

“You’re not,” replied Roar.

Perry didn’t feel ill. He felt focused. He was on the hunt; this was what he did best.

He settled onto a knee behind a stand of broad-leafed shrubs and considered the situation. Roar and Soren crouched at his sides.

They hadn’t expected to find a feast. This would change things.

Tides and Dwellers sat in groups strewn across the clearing, but Sable had erected a platform at the center, where a table decorated with candles and arrangements of lush foliage and colorful flowers had been set up. Sable led Aria there, joining a few of his men and a handful of Guardians.

Perry noticed that his own fighters were scattered. Sable had wisely broken them apart to keep them in check.

“I guess taking him out in secret is no longer an option,” Roar said.

Perry shook his head. “He couldn’t be in a worse position for me to get to him.”

The platform sat at the center of hundreds of people, half of them Horns. Perry knew the second he stepped out into the open, if he wasn’t shot on the spot, he’d likely incite an outright revolt. As subdued as the crowd seemed, the tempers wafting his way seethed with rage. The Tides weren’t defeated. They were dry kindling, just waiting for a spark.

Talon’s position was the only thing he liked about this situation. His nephew sat between Hyde and Molly, Marron and Bear only a few feet away.

Perry knew that was no accident. Believing him to be dead, the Tides had claimed Talon as their own, protecting him. Seeing that made his heart ache.

“Can you get a shot at Sable from here?” Roar asked.

Perry thought it over. He didn’t have his bow, but maybe they could snatch one of the pistols worn by the Horns guarding the clearing. The shot was a good hundred yards—easy when he was using his own gear. But he was less familiar with the Dweller guns.

“Aria’s right next to him,” he said finally. “I can’t risk it. Not with a weapon I don’t know well.”

Sable had seated her to his right. Aria’s father sat on his other side.

“Can’t you make a bow?” Soren asked.

Roar glanced at Perry, rolling his eyes. “Sure, Soren. Let’s come back in a few days.”

Perry turned back to the clearing. Approaching Sable like this wasn’t ideal, but enough people had died, and the look in Aria’s eyes worried him. Instinct told him it was time.

He thought through every scenario a few times, then explained what he needed to Soren and Roar.

When he was finished, Soren stood and nodded. “Got it,” he said, jogging off.

Then Roar hopped to his feet. “Shoot straight, Per.”

As he turned to leave, Perry caught him by the arm. “Roar—” He didn’t know what else to say. He had so little left, and if this plan didn’t work—

“It’s going to work, Perry.” Roar tipped his chin toward the clearing. “Let’s finish the bastard.” He jogged off, steps silent as he worked his way to the opposite side of the clearing.

As he watched Roar stalk through the trees, Perry had never been more grateful for his sharp eyes. His heart pounded as Roar drew closer to his target, settling into position.

Hidden in the woods behind Kirra.

Perry needed to use her, just as she’d used him.

The music stopped abruptly—that meant Soren had done his part. He’d made his way to the musicians, found Jupiter, and told him to stop playing.

Roar came next. Across the clearing, he raised his hand, signaling. He was ready.

Perry’s focus turned to the Horn soldier nearest to him. He pulled himself to his feet, legs coiled as he counted down

Three.

Two.

One.

He sprang from his hiding place, knowing Roar was doing the same across the clearing. His legs churned over the soft earth as he ran to the Horn soldier.

“Sable!”

Roar’s shout broke the silence like a thunderclap. Hundreds of heads turned toward his voice—away from Perry as he grabbed the soldier by the neck, laying a forearm over the man’s mouth to stifle his protests. Perry hauled him into the darkness, back behind the cover of the shrub. Then he took the man’s pistol, lifted the weapon, and delivered a quick strike to the temple. The soldier’s head snapped to the side and he dropped, unconscious. Perry jumped up and sprinted the short distance to the clearing.

Everywhere, people rose to their feet, craning to see Roar, who held Kirra by the throat, using her body as a shield.

Perry dove into the crowd, sinking into his legs to minimize his height. Twig saw him and gasped, opening his mouth to say something. Perry shook his head, holding his finger to his lips.

Twig nodded.

A few more eyes darted Perry’s way. Old Will. Brooke and Clara. A murmur rose up around him but it faded quickly. The message passed through the crowd like a silent ripple: he was there—but he was to be concealed. The Tides understood. They gave no outward sign that he was among them. They kept the surprise from their faces, but he scented their tempers. He knew exactly how overcome they were to see him alive. The force of their emotion added to his resolve.

As he wove past Straggler and Old Will toward the high table at the center, Roar’s voice was the only sound he heard.

“Call them off, Sable! Tell your men to stand down, or I’ll kill her!”

Perry reached the edge of the crowd. The wooden dais stretched before him, Sable only a dozen paces away.

And Aria.

“Call your men off and I’ll let her go!” Roar yelled. “This is between us! It’s about Liv.”

Sable took a pistol from Aria’s father and stood, pushing back from the table. “I can’t say I’m surprised to see you.”

Gasps erupted from across the clearing as the crowd surged back, clearing the field between them.

“You have a debt to pay.” Roar’s voice sounded rough, hoarse with anger. His diversion was working; all eyes remained fixed on him.

Perry lifted the gun and aimed at Sable, searching for a clear shot. He found it. A kill shot, right to the back of his head. Steadying his breath, he exerted steady pressure on the trigger.

Aria shifted, suddenly in the way.

Perry let up, his heart climbing to his throat, but he wasted no time. He crept around the dais in search of another angle, knowing he had only seconds before the Horns spotted him.

“Sable, do something!” Kirra pleaded, struggling against Roar.

“No one else has to get hurt,” Roar yelled. “Only you. You need to pay for what you did!”

Sable raised the pistol in a quick, precise motion. “I disagree,” he said.

Then he fired.

51

ARIA

The gunshot shook the air. An instant later, Roar and Kirra collapsed to the earth.

Aria reacted without thinking, throwing herself into Sable. She rammed into his shoulder and they crashed to the platform. The hard edge of a plank bit into her back, Sable’s weight smashing her down. They rolled off together, onto the grass.

She twisted as they fell, grabbing the pistol in his hand. Her fingers found the trigger and squeezed. She heard the weapon fire just as Sable’s fist struck her across the temple.

Pain burst deep in her skull, a blaze that shot all the way down her spine, and everything went dark. The only thing she knew was that she still gripped the gun.

But then it tore from her fingers as unseen hands closed on her arms and wrenched her upright. They pulled with such force that her neck snapped forward, her chin hitting her breastbone.

Aria lifted her head. She couldn’t see—not the earth beneath her feet or the people around her. She blinked hard, trying to recover her vision. Trying to stay on her feet.

When her eyes cleared, she thought she’d died. That she’d shot herself while trying to kill Sable. It was the only explanation for why Perry stood only ten paces away, on the platform, pointing a gun at Sable.

Perry stepped down to the ground. Shouts exploded around the clearing. A dozen of Sable’s guards aimed their weapons at Perry.

He went still, his gaze flicking to Aria. Then he lowered the gun.

“Wise choice, Peregrine,” Sable said at her side. “If you kill me, my men will kill you, and then, quite probably, the killing will keep going for quite some time. I’m glad you recognize that.”

As he spoke, Aria noticed that he was empty-handed. She had disarmed him. She’d also taken off part of his ear.

Sable paused, wincing as he gave a small shake of his head, like he’d just become aware of the pain. He pressed at the bleeding wound and saw the blood on his fingers, then let out a raw groan of pure anger. “Take his gun, Loran,” he ordered.

Perry never took his eyes off Sable as Loran took the weapon from him.

Aria knew what was coming. She had seen this before. She’d lived this nightmare once already, on a balcony high over the Snake River. She felt like she was falling again. Like in seconds, she’d plunge into frigid black water.

“I have to admit,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “I am surprised to see you, Peregrine. My own fault for not being thorough. Not a mistake I’ll make again.” He glanced over his shoulder, at Loran. “I’ll take that pistol. And then you might consider holding your daughter. I wouldn’t want her to catch a stray shot.”

Loran didn’t move. Aria didn’t understand. Hadn’t he heard the command?

Seconds passed. Finally, Sable looked at him. “Loran, the gun.”

Loran shook his head. “You wanted to keep the old ways alive. You said so yourself when we came here.” He held up the pistol. “We never used these to settle a challenge before. Did the Tides, Peregrine?”

Every eye in the clearing turned to Perry.

He shook his head. “No. Never did.” Then he dove forward, flying at Sable.

52

PEREGRINE

As Perry tackled Sable to the ground, he waged a small debate with himself.

Make Sable suffer, or finish him instantly?

A little of both, he decided.

Sable fought him, pushing against Perry, but he was weaker and slower. Pinning him took no effort.

As Sable fell on his back, Perry punched him across the jaw. Sable’s head rocked to the side, his eyes losing focus as the blow stunned him. Perry grabbed the jeweled Blood Lord chain around his neck and gave the links a hard twist, tightening them.

Sable groaned and sputtered, thrashing beneath him, but Perry held him fast. He’d been in this position before, very nearly, with his brother. That had been harder. Much harder than this.

“You were right, Sable.” Perry twisted tighter, the gemstones cold against his fingers. “We are alike. Neither one of us deserves to wear this.” He twisted again.

Sable’s eyes bulged, and his skin turned blue.

“Perry!”

Perry heard Aria’s yell, just as the glint of steel flashed in the corner of his eye. He shifted away, but felt the blade slice into his side.

A hidden weapon. He should have known.

The knife grazed Perry’s ribs. It was a glancing blow—Sable too weak to put any force behind the strike—the pain that bit into him shallow, nothing compared to what Perry had been through.

“That’s not enough, Sable,” he growled. “You don’t have enough.” He cinched the links tighter and held on.

Sable convulsed, his eyes rolling back, the tone of his skin going from pale blue to white.

Finally, he went still.

Perry released the chain and climbed to his feet. He decided on the spot: This was it. His final act as Blood Lord of the Tides.

He pulled his own chain over his neck and dropped it on Sable’s body.

He spent the next hours defusing the tension in the clearing with Aria, Marron, and Loran. The Horns put down their weapons with little protest when they learned they weren’t in danger of retaliation. Aria’s father proved to be key to their disarmament. Perry quickly saw that Loran commanded more loyalty and respect from Sable’s people than Sable ever had.

Then the questions began as discussions turned to next steps. Who would lead? How would they meet basic needs?

Nothing was decided, but one note was heard over and again: the answers would come eventually and peaceably. Dweller. Outsider. Horn or Tide. They were of the same mind. They’d had enough of strife. It was time to shed the skin of the old world and move forward.

Later that night, when most everyone had settled into sleep, Perry caught Roar’s eye and they did what they’d done their entire lives, taking the trail to the beach to grab a few minutes of quiet.

This time was different.

Aria came with them. Talon and Willow, too.

Then Brooke and Soren. Molly and Bear and Marron.

It went on, a small crowd leaving the slumbering camp behind, and migrating down to the wide beach fringed by waves far gentler than those at the Tides.

Hyde and Hayden fetched wood. Jupiter brought down a guitar. Soon there was a fire and laughter. A real celebration.

“I told you we’d do it, Per,” Roar said.

“It was closer than I wanted it to be. I thought you’d really been shot.”

“I thought I’d gotten shot.”

“So did I,” Aria said. “You fell so dramatically.”

Caleb nodded. “He did. He fell with a flourish.”

Roar laughed. “What can I say? I’m just good at most things.”

As their joking continued, Perry’s thoughts turned to Kirra. Roar hadn’t been shot, but she had. It wasn’t right to celebrate her death, but Sable’s . . .

Perry felt no remorse for what he’d done. He wished he could be nobler about it, but he couldn’t be. He knew regret, having slain Vale. Perry would carry that burden for the rest of his life. But Sable’s death brought him nothing but relief.

Looking at the faces around him, he ached to see his sister’s. Liv should have been there, teasing Roar. Laughing louder than anyone at his jokes. Across the fire, Twig and the brothers sat quiet and somber, no doubt feeling the absence of Gren and Reef. They had all been brothers. A circle of Six—now broken, also because of Sable.

Perry’s gaze moved to Willow, who sat between Molly and Bear with Talon. Flea slept curled at her feet, but she looked lonely, and Perry knew who she missed.

They had made it here, but the price had been steep.

Aria’s hand slipped into his. She looked into his eyes, the firelight illuminating her face. “How are you doing?” she asked.

“Me?” Perry ran his fingers over the bruise Sable had left on her forehead. It would fade, and the cut Sable had given him on the ribs would heal. Perry hardly felt it now. What he felt was the girl he loved, tucked to his side. “I’m doing amazing.”

She smiled, recognizing her answer to the same question a few days ago. “Really?”

He nodded. When they found some time alone, he’d tell her about all the triumph and sorrow that stretched at the walls of his heart. For now, he just said, “Really.”

A conversation across the fire caught his attention. Marron was talking to Molly and a few Dwellers about forming a leadership council. They planned to begin recruiting members in the morning.

Perry gave Aria’s shoulder a squeeze, tipping his chin. “You should be part of that council.”

“I want to be,” she said, and then fell quiet for a moment. “Maybe I’ll ask Loran if he wants to be in it, too.”

It was a great idea. Perry couldn’t think of a better way for Aria to build a relationship with her father, and he knew how much she wanted that.

Aria’s gaze went to his neck, where the chain no longer rested. “What about you?”

“You’ll do a better job than I ever did. You already have. And I have important plans for tomorrow.”

“Important plans?”

“That’s right.” He winked at Talon, who was drifting to sleep next to Molly. “I’m going fishing.”

Aria’s gray eyes brightened. “Using what kind of bait? Earthworms? Night crawlers?”

“Are you ever going to forget that?”

“No. Never.”

“Fine.” He leaned in and whispered, “Then I love you, my little Night Crawler.” He kissed her then, because he could. Lingered over her lips, because he couldn’t stop himself.

Aria drew away first, leaving him out of his mind with desire. He’d been about two seconds from whisking her away somewhere, and she seemed to know it. She smiled at him, her eyes full of heat and promises; then she turned to Soren.

“Nothing to say?” she asked him. “No retching noises or snide remarks?”

“What—no.” The words came out together. Soren crossed his arms and lifted his shoulders. “Nothing.”

Beside him, Brooke shook her head. “That’s a first.”

Soren glanced at her, trying—and failing—to hold back a smile. “Can’t I just sit here, relishing the fire?”

“You’re relishing the fire?” Brooke laughed.

Soren frowned, looking confused. “What? Why is that funny?”

Perry noticed they sat a little closer than they needed to, and Brooke seemed happy.

Roar stood unexpectedly and headed into the darkness. Perry wondered if he’d seen the same, the beginnings of a pair, and been reminded of Liv.

But Roar only rounded the fire and grabbed the guitar from Jupiter. He came back and looked at Aria, smiling as he plucked the strings. Perry recognized the opening of the Hunter’s Song.

Aria straightened, rubbing her hands together in exaggerated eagerness. “My favorite.”

“Me too,” said Roar.

Perry grinned. It was his favorite—not theirs.

“Light of dawn in the hunter’s eyes,” Aria sang. “Home unfurls inside his mind.”

Roar joined in, their voices harmonizing perfectly, and it was a good thing—the best thing—hearing the two people who knew him best sing to him. The lyrics told the story of a hunter’s return, and they’d always swept Perry up; he’d hummed them a thousand times while walking the Tide Valley. He would never go back there, but tonight was still a return—to the life he wanted again.

They were safe. He could rest now. He smiled to himself. He could hunt.

“Peregrine,” Molly said sometime later, when the group had fallen quiet. Talon snored softly with his head in her lap. “Sable made an announcement to us earlier. He told us this place was going to be called Cape Rim. I think we can do better.”

“I know we can,” he said. “What would you call it, Molly?”

“I’ve been thinking about it, and it seems to me we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Cinder.”

“Oh . . . ,” Marron said. “That’s lovely.”

Aria looked up, her violet scent filling him with steadiness. “What do you think?”

Perry looked down to the waves, and then farther out to the dark horizon, where he saw only stars. “I think it’s a great name.”

53

ARIA

Are you done?” Roar said. “Because that took forever.”

Aria stepped out of the Belswan Hover and jogged down the ramp to join him. “It took an hour, Roar.”

Behind her, the rest of the council members were still talking. Her father argued with Soren—a dynamic that was already familiar—while Marron and Molly interjected calmly from time to time. The meeting had ended, but there was so much to decide. Their discussions never really ended.

“That’s what I said. Forever.” Roar fell into step with her as they headed back to the settlement. “How was your swim?”

“Good. It’s helping.” In the weeks since they’d arrived, she and Perry had been swimming together in the mornings. They left early, before anyone else stirred, and hadn’t missed a day yet. The exercise was helping her arm heal—her hand was almost back to normal—but the best part was spending time alone with him.

Yesterday when they’d finished, he’d told her that the water made him feel close to the Tides territory. Aria loved knowing his thoughts. With every one she learned, she fell for him more deeply. It was the best kind of falling, and she wondered if it would ever end.

“I get the feeling you’re not smiling because of my irresistible charm,” Roar said, pulling her out of her daze.

“I think you’re spending too much time with Soren. You’re starting to sound like him.”

Roar smiled. “Well, Soren doesn’t sound like Soren anymore, so someone had to step in.”

Aria laughed. It was true. Between Hess’s death, and whatever was brewing between Soren and Brooke, the edges had been smoothed from his attitude. Now Soren was only occasionally offensive.

She and Roar talked nonsense as they walked the trail, their conversation easy and light as always. As they approached the settlement, Aria heard the pound of hammers and voices calling back and forth. Though she’d grown accustomed to the din over the past weeks, it always filled her with hope. It meant homes being built.

Part of her work on the council was to develop long-term plans for the city of Cinder. Plans for paved roads, a hospital, a gathering hall. Those would all come eventually. For now, they needed shelter. A comfortable place to lay their heads at night.

“I don’t see him,” Roar said, eyes scanning as they arrived.

“I don’t either.” Around them was a symphony of people digging, lifting, erecting walls and roofs, while Flea trotted around like he was supervising. “He took Talon exploring after our swim this morning. I’m sure they’ll be back soon.” It was another part of Perry’s day—time with Talon, hunting, hiking. Whatever they decided.

Aria sat on a half-wall, built with nails poured from the new forge, and with lumber cut from higher elevation and floated downriver. Eventually, the wall would rise to become one side of a house.

This particular house would have a loft with a minor flaw. A crack in the roof that showed just a sliver of the blue sky above. Aria had made plans in secret with Marron. It was going to be a surprise.

Roar sat beside her. “So you want to just wait for them here?”

“Sure.” She bumped his shoulder with her own and smiled. “It’s a good place to wait. This is home.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book marks the end of years of effort by many people. Thank you first and foremost to Barbara Lalicki for her unerring guidance and belief in this story. I couldn’t have asked for a better editor. These books would not exist without Rosemary Brosnan and Andrew Harwell, both of whom were constant sources of support, encouragement, and editorial wisdom.

My gratitude goes to Susan Katz and Kate Jackson for taking a chance on Peregrine and Aria, to Kim VandeWater and Olivia deLeon for all their efforts to promote the trilogy, and to Melinda Weigel and Karen Sherman for bringing polish and accuracy to my words.

I am ever thankful to my agents, Josh and Tracey Adams, for steering me through the business aspects of the writing life with humor and dedication. Thanks also to Stephen Moore for all his efforts.

I have turned many times to Lorin Oberweger, Eric Elfman, Jackie Garlick, and Lia Keyes for advice through the writing of this trilogy. Talia Vance, Donna Cooner, Katy Longshore, and Bret Ballou have been there for me since the beginning. To all of you I say: thank you, and are you up for another series?

My family deserves far more of my appreciation and love than I can fit on this page, but here goes anyway. Mom and Dad. Gui and Ci. Pedro and Maji. Toni and Mike. Shawn, Tracy, Nancy, Terri. Taylor, Morgan, Ju, Bea. Luca and Rocky. Michael. I love you. Thanks for putting up with me these past years while I spent far more time with Aria and Perry than I did with you.

Finally, thank you for letting me tell you a story about a girl and a boy who did something extraordinary. Your turn now. Find your heading, your Still Blue, and get there. I know you can.

CREDITS

Cover art © 2014 by Gustavo Marx/MergeLeft Reps, Inc.

Cover design by Michelle Taormina

COPYRIGHT

INTO THE STILL BLUE. Copyright © 2014 by Veronica Rossi. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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ISBN 978-0-06-207209-2 (trade bdg.)
ISBN 978-0-06-229518-7 (int. ed.)
EPub Edition December 2013 ISBN 9780062072115

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FIRST EDITION

About the Author

Author photo by Sherman Chu

VERONICA ROSSI graduated from UCLA. The first book in her Under the Never Sky trilogy was named an ALA Best Fiction for Young Adults selection and an Indie Next List Pick. The second book, Through the Ever Night, was a New York Times and USA Today bestseller. The series has been optioned for film by Warner Bros. Veronica lives in northern California with her husband and two sons. You can visit her online at www.veronicarossi.com.

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