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 wh
at 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.
Under the Never Sky: The Complete Series Collection Page 40