“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 t
ables.
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 drop
ped 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.
Under the Never Sky: The Complete Series Collection Page 39