Under the Never Sky: The Complete Series Collection

by Rossi, Veronica

  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. Tha
t 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 highe
st-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—