“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.”