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?”