Under the Never Sky: The Complete Series Collection

by Rossi, Veronica

  “Right there,” he said, nodding. Rain had threatened all day, and now a light drizzle began to fall. He wished the clouds would part to show the sun or the Aether—any light at all—but the sky had been overcast for days. “My father had it built in a circle—easier to defend. We have wooden walls that draw closed between the houses during raids. The highest structure … See the roof over there?” He pointed. “That’s the cookhouse. The heart of the tribe.”

  Perry paused as Twig and Gren passed them. He’d sent Reef ahead that morning to make an announcement to the Tides, letting everyone know that Aria was under his protection as an ally. He wanted her arrival to go as smoothly as possible. With Twig and Gren pulling ahead, he let himself step closer to her and nodded toward the burnt stretch of land to the south.

  “An Aether storm tore right through those woods in the winter. It took out part of our best farmland.” A small shudder rolled through his shoulders as her temper hit him. Bright green, a scent like mint. She was alert and a little skitty with nerves. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be rendered to another person, to not only scent their tempers but feel them himself. Aria didn’t know this bond existed between them. He hadn’t told her in the fall, having thought then that he’d never see her again, but he’d do it soon, when he got her alone.

  “The damage could’ve been worse, though,” he continued. “We kept the fires from spreading, and the compound wasn’t hit.”

  He watched her as she studied the horizon. The Tide Valley wasn’t a large territory, but it was fertile, near the sea, and well positioned for defense. Could she see that? It was good land when the Aether left it alone. He didn’t know how much longer that would be. Another year? Two, at the most, before it became nothing but scorched earth?

  “It’s much prettier than I imagined,” she said.

  He let out his breath, relieved. “Yeah?”

  Aria looked at him, her eyes smiling. “Yeah.” She turned away, and Perry wondered if they’d been standing too close. Couldn’t they talk if they were pretending to be allies? Was a smile too much? Then he saw what she’d heard.

  Willow charged toward them at full speed on the dirt path, Flea galloping at her side. The dog thundered up first, laying back his ears and baring his teeth at Aria.

  “It’s all right,” Perry said. “He’s friendly.”

  Aria stood her ground and rolled on the balls of her feet, ready to move quickly. “He doesn’t look it,” she said.

  Roar had told him she’d become a skilled fighter in the past months. Perry saw the difference now. She looked stronger, quicker. More comfortable with fear.

  Tearing his eyes away from her, he knelt. “Here, Flea. Give her some space.” Flea inched forward and sniffed Aria’s boots, his tail wagging slowly, before he pranced over. Perry scratched his wiry coat, a patchwork of brown and black fur. “He’s Willow’s dog. You’ll never see them apart.”

  “Then I guess this is Willow,” she said.

  Perry straightened in time to see Willow blow past Gren and Twig with a hasty greeting; then she jumped into his arms the same way she’d done since she was three. At thirteen she was getting too big for that, but it made him laugh, so Willow kept doing it.

  “You told me you’d only be a few days,” she said as soon as Perry set her down. She was in her usual outfit—dusty pants, dusty boots, dusty shirt, and red strips of fabric braided through her dark hair, made from pieces of the skirt her mother had sewn for her over the winter but that she’d taken apart.

  Perry smiled. “It was only a few days.”

  “Felt like forever,” Willow said, and then she peered at Aria, her dark brown eyes suspicious.

  When she’d first been cast out of Reverie, Aria had been hard to miss as a Dweller. She’d spoken in sharp, clipped sounds, her skin had been pale as milk, and her scent had been rancy and off. Those differences had faded away. She was noticeable for another reason now—the same reason Twig and Gren had stared at her for the past two days when she wasn’t looking.

  “Roar told me a Dweller was coming,” Willow said finally. “He said I’d like you.”

  “I hope he’s right,” Aria said, petting Flea on the head. The dog now sat against her leg, panting happily.

  Willow lifted her chin. “Well, Flea likes you, so maybe I will too.” She looked up at Perry, frowning, and he scented her temper. Usually it was a bright citrus scent, but now a dark tinge blurred into the edges of his vision, telling him something wasn’t right.

  “What’s happened, Will?” he asked.

  “All I know is Bear and Wylan have been waiting for you, and they don’t look happy. I thought you’d want to know.” Willow’s narrow shoulders lifted in a shrug; then she sped off, with Flea loping beside her.

  Perry made for the compound, wondering what he’d find. Bear, a wall of a man with a gentle heart and hands permanently stained from working the earth, was lead on anything related to farming. Slight and surly, Wylan was the Tides’ head fisherman. The two bickered constantly about where the Tides’ resources belonged, in a never-ending battle between earth and sea. Perry hoped that it was nothing more.

  Aria strode beside him with confidence as they passed through the main gates and stepped into the clearing at the center of the compound, but he scented the cool tone of her fear. He saw his home through her eyes then—a circle of cottages made of wood and stone and weathered by the salt air—and wondered again what she was thinking. It was nowhere as comfortable as Marron’s, and there’d be no comparison at all to what she was used to in the Pods.

  They’d arrived just before supper—unfortunate timing. Dozens of people milled around, waiting for the call to eat. Others stood at their windows and crowded their doors, watching with wide eyes. One of Gray’s boys pointed, while the other giggled at his side. Brooke rose from a bench in front of her house, looking from him to Aria and back. In a guilty flash, Perry remembered a conversation he’d had with her over the winter. He’d told Brooke they couldn’t be together because he had too much on his mind. That too much had been Aria—the girl who, at that time, he thought he’d never see again.

  Nearby, Bear and Wylan stood talking with Reef. They looked over, falling silent. Some instinct kept Perry moving toward his house. He’d deal with them soon enough. He didn’t see the one person whose help he could use right now: Roar.

  Perry stopped before his door and nudged aside a basket of kindling with his foot. He looked at Aria standing beside him and felt like he should say something. Welcome? You’ll be safe here? Everything seemed too formal.

  “It’s small,” he said finally.

  He stepped inside, cringing as he saw blankets scattered across the floor and dirty mugs on the table. Clothes lay tossed in a pile in the corner, and a stack of books along the far wall had toppled over. The sea was half an hour away, but there was a dusting of sand on the floorboards beneath his feet. He supposed it could’ve looked worse for a house shared by half a dozen men.

  “The Six sleep here,” he explained. “I met them after you …” He couldn’t say left. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t say the word. “They’re my guard now. Marked, all of them. You’ve met Reef, Twig, and Gren already. The rest are brothers: Hyde, Hayden, and Straggler. Seers, the three of them. Strag’s name is actually Haven, but … you’ll see. It suits him.” He rubbed his chin, forcing himself to shut up.

  “Do you have a candle or a lamp?” she asked.

  Only then did he notice the dimness. To him, the room’s lines were cut in sharp relief. To Aria—or anyone else—they’d be lost. He was always aware of being a Scire, but he forgot about his vision until times like this. He was a Seer, but the real power of his eyes was the keenness of his sight in darkness. Aria had once called it a mutation—an effect of the Aether that had warped his Sense more than others’. He thought of it more as a curse, a reminder of the Seer mother who’d died bringing him to life.

  Perry opened the shutters, letting in the murky afternoon ligh
t. Outside, the clearing buzzed with gossip as news of Aria’s arrival spread. Nothing he could do about it. He crossed his arms, his stomach clenching, as he watched her absorb the space. He couldn’t believe she was there, in his house.

  Aria came to the window beside him and studied Talon’s collection of carved falcons, which rested on the sill. Perry knew he needed to see Bear and Wylan, but he couldn’t move.

  He cleared his throat. “Talon and I did those. His are the good ones. Mine is the one that looks like a turtle.”

  She picked it up and turned it in her hand. Her gray eyes were warm as she looked up and said, “It’s my favorite.”

  Perry’s gaze moved to her lips. They were alone. This was as close as they’d stood since she’d last been in his arms.

  She set the carving down and stepped away. “You’re sure I can stay here?”

  “Yes. You can have the room.” From where he stood, he could see the edge of his brother’s bed, covered with a faded red blanket. He’d rather she not stay in there, but saw no better choice. “I sleep up there,” he said, tipping his head to the loft.

  Aria dropped her satchel against the wall and glanced at the front door, smiling at a sound beyond the reach of his ears. A second later, Roar blew into the house in a dark flash.

  “Finally!” he bellowed. He wrapped Aria into a hug, lifting her off the ground. “What took you two so long? Don’t answer that.” He glanced at Perry. “I think I know.” He set her down and then clasped Perry’s hand. “Good you’re back, Per.”

  “What did I miss?” Perry asked, grinning.

  Before Roar could answer, Wylan, Bear, and Reef arrived, crowding in as the house fell into a thick silence. They stood for a long moment, all eyes fixed on the only stranger among them. The tempers in the room sharpened, heating up and bleeding red into Perry’s vision. They didn’t want her there. He’d known they’d react this way, but his hands curled into fists anyway.

  “This is Aria,” he said, fighting the urge to step toward her. “She’s half Dweller, as Reef’s told you. She’ll be helping us find the Still Blue, in exchange for shelter. While she’s here, she’ll be Marked as an Audile.”

  The words felt like gravel rolling from his mouth. They were true, but a partial truth, which felt more like a lie. Perry saw the questioning look in Roar’s eyes.

  Bear stepped forward, wringing his big hands. “Excuse my asking, Perry, but how’s a Mole going to help us?”

  Wylan muttered something under his breath. Aria’s eyes snapped to him, and Roar tensed. Auds both, they’d heard him clearly.

  Perry felt a flash of heat, and had the urge to cuff Wylan. He realized that what he felt—what gripped him—was Aria’s temper. He drew a breath, grasping for control. “You have something to say, Wylan?”

  “No,” he answered. “Nothing to say. Just checking if her ears work.” He smirked. “They do.”

  Reef dropped a hand on Wylan’s shoulder with enough force that the smaller man winced. “Bear and Wylan were just telling me what happened while we were away,” he said, changing the subject.

  Perry prepared himself for their latest argument. “Let’s hear it.”

  Bear crossed his arms over his broad chest, his thick eyebrows drawing together. “We had a fire in the storeroom last night. We think it was the boy who came back with Roar. Cinder.”

  Perry glanced at Roar and Aria, alarm running through him. They were the only ones who knew about Cinder’s unique ability to channel the Aether. They protected Cinder’s secret by unspoken agreement.

  “No one saw him do it,” Roar said, reading his mind. “He ran before anyone could catch him.”

  “He’s gone?” Perry asked.

  Roar rolled his eyes. “You know how he is. He’ll come back. He always does.”

  Perry flexed his scarred hand. If he hadn’t seen Cinder lay waste to a band of Croven with his own eyes, he wouldn’t believe it himself. “The damage?”

  Bear tipped his head toward the door. “Might be easier if I show you,” he said, heading outside.

  Perry paused at the threshold and looked back at Aria. She gave a small shrug of understanding. They’d been there less than ten minutes, and already he had to leave her. He hated it, but he had no choice.

  The storeroom in the back of the cookhouse was a long stone room lined with wooden shelves, which were stacked with containers of grain, jars of spices and herbs, and baskets of early spring vegetables. Usually scents of food hung in the cool air, but as Perry stepped inside, the smell of burnt wood was thick. Beneath it he caught a trace of the sting of Aether—a smell that was also Cinder’s.

  The damage was contained to one side of the room. Part of a shelf was gone, burned to nothing.

  “He must have dropped a lamp or something,” Bear said, scratching his thick black beard. “We got to it quickly, but we still lost a lot. We had to throw out two bins of grain.”

  Perry nodded. It was food they couldn’t afford to lose. The Tides were already on tight rations.

  “The kid’s stealing from you,” Wylan said. “He’s stealing from us. Next time I see him, I’ll run him off the territory.”

  “No,” Perry said. “Send him to me.”

  4

  ARIA

  You all right?” Roar whispered as the house emptied.

  Aria let out her breath and nodded, though she wasn’t quite sure. Aside from him and Perry, everyone who’d stood in this room despised her because of who she was. Because of what she was.

  A Dweller. A girl who lived in a domed city. A Mole tramp, as Wylan had whispered under his breath. She’d been preparing herself for that, especially after days of Reef’s cold stares, but she felt shaken anyway. It would be the same if Perry entered Reverie, she realized. Worse. Reverie Guardians would kill an Outsider on sight.

  She turned away from the door, her eyes drifting across the cozy, cluttered home. A table with painted chairs to one side. Bowls and pots in every color along the shelves behind it. Two leather chairs before the hearth, worn but comfortable-looking. Along the far wall she saw baskets with books and wooden toys. It was cool and quiet, and smelled faintly of smoke and old wood.

  “This is his home, Roar.”

  “Yes. It is.”

  “I can’t believe I’m here. It’s warmer than I expected.”

  “It used to be more so.”

  A year ago, this house would’ve been packed with Perry’s family. Now he was the only one left. Aria wondered if that was why the Six slept there. Surely there were other homes they could occupy. Maybe a full house helped keep Perry from missing his family. She doubted it. No one could ever fill the void her mother had left. People couldn’t be replaced.

  She pictured her own room in Reverie. A small space, spare and neat, with gray walls and an inset dresser. Her room had been home once. She felt no longing for it. Now it seemed as inviting as the inside of a steel box. What she missed was the way she’d felt there. Safe. Loved. Surrounded by people who accepted her. Who didn’t whisper Mole tramp at her.

  She had no place of her own now, she realized. No things like the falcon figurines on the windowsill. No objects to prove she existed. All her belongings were virtual, kept in the Realms. They weren’t real. She didn’t even have a mother anymore.

  A feeling of weightlessness came over her. Like a balloon that had slipped free from its tether, she was floating, made of nothing more than air.

  “You hungry?” Roar asked behind her, oblivious, his tone light and cheerful as always. “We usually eat in the cookhouse, but I could bring something for us here.”

  She turned. Roar rested a hip against the table, his arms crossed. He wore black from head to toe, like she did.

  He smiled. “Not as comfortable as Marron’s, is it?”

  They’d spent the past months there together while he’d healed from a leg wound. While she’d healed from deeper wounds. Little by little, one day after another, they’d brought each other back.

  Roar
’s smile widened. “I know. You missed me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s barely been three weeks since I saw you.”

  “Miserable stretch of time,” he said. “So, food?”

  Aria glanced at the door. She couldn’t hide if she wanted the Tides to accept her. She had to face them directly. She nodded. “Lead the way.”

  “Her skin’s too smooth—like an eel.”

  The voice, dripping with malice, carried to Aria’s ears.

  The tribe had begun to gossip about her before she’d even taken a seat with Roar at one of the tables. She picked up the heavy spoon and stirred the bowl of stew in front of her, trying to focus on other things.

  The cookhouse was a rough-hewn structure, part medieval hall, part hunting lodge. It was packed with long trestle tables and candles. Two massive fireplaces roared on either side. Children chased each other around the perimeter, their voices mixing with the gurgle of boiling water and the crackle of the fires. With the clanking of spoons and the slurps of people talking, eating, drinking. A belch. Laughter. The bark of a dog. All of it amplified by thick stone walls. Despite the racket, she couldn’t help isolating the cruel whispering voices.

  Two young women carried on a conversation the next table over. One was a pretty blonde with bright blue eyes. The same girl who’d been watching Aria as she’d entered Perry’s house. That had to be Brooke. Her younger sister, Clara, was in Reverie, too. Vale had sold her off like Talon, in exchange for food for the Tides.

  “I thought Dwellers died when they breathed outside air,” Brooke whispered, her gaze on Aria.

  “They do,” said the other girl, “but I heard she’s only half Mole.”

  “Someone actually bred with a Dweller?”

  Aria’s grip tightened around the spoon. They were slandering her mother, who was dead, and her father, who was a mystery. Then it hit her. The Tides would say the same things about her and Perry, if they knew the truth. They’d talk about them breeding.

  “Perry said she’s going to be Marked.”

  “A Mole with a Sense,” Brooke said. “Unbelievable. What is she?”