“An Aud, I think.”
“That means she can hear us.”
Laughter.
Aria gritted her teeth at the sound. Roar, who’d been sitting quietly by her side, leaned toward her.
“Listen closely,” he whispered into her ear. “This is the most important thing you need to know while you’re here.” She stared at the bowl of stew in front of her, her heart slamming into her ribs.
“Do not eat the haddock. They’ve been overcooking it terribly.”
She jabbed her elbow into his ribs. “Roar.”
“I’m serious. It’s as tough as leather.” Roar looked across the table. “Isn’t it true, Old Will?” he said to a grizzled man with a shockingly white beard.
Though Aria had been on the outside for months, she still marveled at wrinkles and scars and signs of age. She’d thought them disgusting once. Now the man’s leathery face almost made her smile. Bodies on the outside wore experiences like souvenirs.
Willow, the girl Aria had met earlier, sat beside him. Aria felt a weight settle on her boot and looked down to see Flea.
“Grandpa, Roar asked you something,” Willow said.
The older man cocked his ear toward Roar. “What was that, pretty?”
Roar raised his voice in answer. “I was telling Aria here not to eat the haddock.”
Old Will studied her, his lips pursed in a sour expression. Aria’s cheeks warmed as she waited for his reaction. It was one thing to hear whispers, but another to be shunned to her face.
“I’m seventy,” he said finally. “Seventy years old and going strong.”
“Old Will isn’t an Aud,” Roar whispered.
“I got that, thanks. Did he just call you pretty?”
Roar nodded, chewing. “Can you blame him?”
Her eyes moved over his even features. “No. I really can’t,” she said, though pretty didn’t quite fit Roar’s dark looks.
“So you’re getting Markings,” he said. “How about I vouch for you?”
“I thought Perry—Peregrine was going to?” Aria said.
“Perry will warrant them, and he’ll preside over the ceremony, but that’s only one part of it. The part only a Blood Lord can do.”
The stout woman on Roar’s opposite side leaned forward. “Someone with your same Sense needs to take an oath swearing that your hearing is true. If you’re an Aud, only another Aud can do that.”
Aria smiled, noting the emphasis the woman placed on the word if. “I am an Aud, so that’ll be the case.”
The woman studied her with eyes the color of honey. She seemed to decide something, because the grim set of her mouth softened. “I’m Molly.”
“Molly is our healer, and Bear’s wife,” Roar said. “Much fiercer than the big man, though, aren’t you, Molly?” He turned back to Aria. “So it should be me doing the vouching, don’t you think? I’m perfect for it. I’ve taught you everything.”
Aria shook her head, trying not to smile. Truly, Roar was the perfect choice. He had taught her all she knew about sounds—and knives. “Everything except modesty.”
He made a face. “Who needs that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you do, pretty.”
“Nonsense,” he said, and tucked back into his food.
Aria forced herself to do the same. The stew was a tasty mix of barley and whitefish, but she couldn’t eat more than a few bites. Not only was the tribe whispering about her, but she felt them gawking, watching every move she made.
She set her spoon down and reached beneath the table, petting Flea on the head. He blinked at her, shifting closer. He had an intelligent expression absent from dogs in the Realms. She hadn’t realized animals had such distinct personalities. It was just another one of the endless differences between her old life and her new one. She wondered if the Tides would change their minds about her, as Flea had.
Aria looked up as the chatter in the hall quieted. Perry came through the door with three young men. Blond and tall, two resembled Perry in their muscular build. Hyde and Hayden, she guessed. The third, a few steps behind them and a head shorter, could only be Straggler. They all carried themselves like Seers: bows across their backs, their posture tall, and their eyes scanning.
Perry spotted her immediately. He tipped his head—a safe acknowledgment between allies, but it left her holding her breath, wanting more. Then he took a table by the door with the brothers, disappearing into a sea of heads. Moments later, the cruel voices drifted back to her ears.
“She doesn’t look real. I bet she wouldn’t even bleed if you cut her.”
“Let’s try it. Just a little nick to see if it’s true.”
Aria followed the voice. Brooke’s blue eyes bored into her. Aria placed her hand on Roar’s wrist, grateful for his unique ability. He could hear thoughts through touch. She’d barely been fazed when she discovered that about him. It didn’t feel much different from the Smarteye she’d worn her entire life, which worked by a similar process—by hearing thought patterns through physical contact.
That’s Perry’s girl, she thought to him. Isn’t it?
Roar stilled, his spoon halfway to his mouth. “No … I’m pretty sure that would be you.”
She’s evil. I might want to hurt her.
Roar grinned. “That I want to see.”
“Look at her.” It was Brooke’s voice again. “She’s moving in on Roar. I know you can hear me, Mole. You’re wasting your time on him. He’s Liv’s.”
Aria snatched her hand away from his wrist. Roar sighed, his eyes sliding over to her. He set his spoon down and pushed his bowl away. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I want to show you something.”
She pulled her legs from beneath the table and followed him, keeping her focus on Roar’s back. As she passed Perry, she slowed, allowing herself a glance. He was listening to Reef, across from him, but his eyes flicked up, meeting hers.
She wished she could tell him how much she missed him. How much she wanted to be the one sitting with him. Then she realized that through her temper, she had.
Roar led her along a trail that wove through sand dunes. Aether light filtered through the clouds, casting a glow over the path and the tall, rustling grass. As they walked, a rushing sound mixed with the low whistle of the wind. It moved through her—hiss and whisper and roar—growing louder and clearer with every step she took.
Aria stopped as they came over the last dune. The ocean stretched out before her, alive, spreading to the end of everything. She heard a million waves, each one distinct, ferocious, but together a chorus that was serene and grander than anything she’d ever known. She’d seen the ocean plenty of times in the Realms, but it hadn’t prepared her for the real thing.
“If beauty had a sound, this would be it.”
“I knew it would help,” Roar said, his smile a white flash in the darkness. “Auds say the sea holds every sound that’s ever been heard. All you have to do is listen.”
“I didn’t know that.” She closed her eyes, letting the sound wash over her, and listened for her mother’s voice. Where were Lumina’s calm assurances that patience and logic would solve any problem? She didn’t hear them, but she believed they were there. Aria glanced at Roar, pushing away the grief. “See? You haven’t taught me everything.”
“True,” Roar said. “I can’t run the risk of boring you.”
They walked closer to the water together. Then Roar sat, leaning back on his elbows. “So what’s with the act?”
Aria sat next to him. “It’s for the best,” she said, digging her fingers into the sand. The top layer still held the day’s warmth, but beneath it was cool and damp. She drizzled it over Roar’s knee. “You heard how they hate me. Imagine if they knew Perry and I were together.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?” Roar smiled like he was about to tease her. The moment felt utterly familiar, though they’d never been here before. How many times had they talked about Perry and Liv over
the winter?
Aria poured another handful of sand on his knee, listening to the delicate drizzle beneath the crash of the surf. “It was my idea. It’s the safest way, but it’s strange pretending to be something different. It’s like there’s a glass wall between us. Like I can’t touch him or … reach him. I don’t like the way it feels.”
Roar wiggled his knee, upsetting her sand pile. “Does his voice still sound like smoke and fire?”
Aria rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I told you that.”
He tipped his head to the side in a gesture that was pure Perry, putting a hand over his heart, which wasn’t. “Aria, your scent … it’s like a blooming flower.” He modulated his voice perfectly to sound like Perry’s deep drawl. “Come here, my sweet rose.”
Aria jabbed him in the shoulder, which only made him laugh. “It’s violet. And you’re going to pay when I meet Liv.”
Roar’s smile vanished. He ran a hand over his dark hair and sat up, growing quiet as he stared at the breaking waves.
“Still no word?” she asked quietly. When Perry’s sister had disappeared last spring, she’d left Roar heartbroken.
He shook his head. “No word.”
Aria sat up, brushing off her hands. “There will be soon. She’ll turn up.” She wished she hadn’t mentioned Liv. Roar had to feel her absence more than ever here, where they’d both grown up.
She looked across the ocean. Deep in the distance, clouds pulsed with glaring light. Aether funnels were striking. Aria couldn’t imagine being out there. Perry had told her once that rogue storms were always a danger at sea. She didn’t know how the Tides’ fishermen found the courage to go out every day.
“You know, glass is pretty easy to break, Aria.” Roar was watching her, his gaze thoughtful.
“You’re right.” How could she complain? She had it so much easier than he did. At least she and Perry were in the same place. “You’ve convinced me. I’m going to break the glass, Roar. Next chance I get.”
“Good. Shatter it.”
“I will. And you will too, when we find Liv.” She waited for him to agree—wanted him to—but Roar changed the subject.
“Does Hess know you’ve come here?”
“No,” she said. She slipped the Smarteye from a small pocket in the lining of her leather satchel. “But I need to contact him.” She should’ve done it yesterday, their planned meeting day, but she hadn’t found a chance on her journey to the Tides. “I’ll do it now.”
The smooth patch, clear as a water droplet and nearly as supple, struck her as something from another world after all the sun-bleached and wind-frayed edges of the compound. It was from another world—hers. She’d worn the device all her life without so much as a thought. All Dwellers did. It was how they moved through the Realms. She’d only recently begun to dread it. She had Consul Hess to thank for that.
Aria brought the Smarteye up, laying it over her left eye. The device suctioned to the skin around her eye socket, the pressure firm and familiar, and then the biotech plastic at the center softened, turning to liquid. She blinked a few times, adjusting to seeing through the clear interface. Red letters appeared, floating against the ocean, as the Eye powered on.
WELCOME TO THE REALMS! BETTER THAN REAL!
They faded out, and then AUTHENTICATING appeared.
She turned her head, watching the letters track with her movement.
ACCEPTED flickered up, and a familiar prickling sensation spread across her scalp and down her spine. Only one generic icon, labeled HESS, hovered against the darkness. When she’d had her own Smarteye, the screen had been filled with icons for her favorite Realms, news crawls, and messages from her friends. But Hess had programmed this Eye to only reach him.
“Are you in?” Roar asked.
“I’m in.”
He lay down, resting his head on his arm. “Wake me up when you’re back.” To him, she’d appear to be sitting quietly on the beach. He’d have no window into the Realms the Smarteye opened to her.
“I’m still here, you know.”
Roar closed his eyes. “No, you’re not. Not really.”
With a deliberate thought, she selected the icon, letting Hess know she was there. Moments later she fractioned, her consciousness splitting, dividing. The feeling was jarring but painless—like waking up suddenly in a strange place. In an instant she existed in two places at once: on the beach with Roar, and in the virtual construct of the Realm Hess had brought her to. She shifted her focus to the Realm and went still, momentarily dazzled by the brightness. Then she looked around, adjusting to a world turned pink.
Cherry trees spread around her in every direction. Blossoms loaded down their branches and coated the ground like a pink dusting of snow. An aimless, everywhere rustle reached her ears, and then a shower of petals drifted down in a rosy blizzard.
She found it breathtaking until she noticed the symmetry of the branches and the perfect spacing of the trees. She realized she hadn’t heard the petals fall, or the creak of branches. The breeze held an empty, one-note sound. Far too aggressive for what she knew was right. Better than Real, they said of the Realms. She’d thought so too, once. For years she’d cruised spaces like this from within the safety of Reverie’s walls, not knowing any better. Not knowing that nothing was better than real.
Or worse, she thought, suddenly remembering Paisley. Her best friend had only seen the terrible parts of the real world. Fire. Pain. Violence. Aria still couldn’t believe she was gone. Almost all of her memories of Paisley included Paisley’s older brother, too. It had always been the three of them.
How was Caleb doing in Reverie? Was he still cruising to the art Realms? Had he moved on? She swallowed against the tight feeling in her throat, missing him. Missing her other friends, Rune and Pixie, and how light life used to be. Underwater concerts and parties in the clouds. Ridiculous Realms like Dinosaur Laser Tag and Cloud Surfing and Date a Greek God. Her life had changed so much. Now, when she slept, she kept her knives within reach.
Aria looked up, and her breath caught. Through the pink branches she saw a light blue sky with no veins of Aether, no coating of glowing clouds. That had been the sky three hundred years ago, before the Unity. Before a massive solar flare had corrupted the Earth’s magnetosphere, opening the door to cosmic storms. To an alien atmosphere that was unimaginably devastating. Aether. This blue sky was what she pictured over the Still Blue—bright and open and calm.
She lowered her gaze and found Consul Hess sitting at a table twenty paces away. Small, with a marble top and two iron chairs, the table belonged in a bistro in a European square. Whatever Realm Hess chose, that detail never changed.
Aria looked down at herself. A kimono had replaced her black pants, shirt, and boots. This garment was made of thick cream brocade, patterned with red and pink flowers. It was beautiful, and far too tight.
“Is this necessary?” she asked, as always.
Hess watched in silence as she walked over. He had a severe face, chiseled, with wide-set eyes and a thin mouth that gave him a lizard-like appearance. “It befits the Realm,” he said, his gaze traveling up and down her body. “And I find your Outsider clothing unsavory.”
Aria sat across from him, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. She could barely cross her legs in the dress, and what was the waxy coating on her lips? She touched her finger and came away with scarlet lipstick. Really. This was too much.
“Your clothes don’t befit the Realm,” she said. Hess was in Dweller grays, as usual—clothes similar to those she’d worn in Reverie all her life, the only difference being that his grays had blue stripes along the collar and sleeves to show his position as Consul. “Neither does this table or the coffee.”
Hess ignored her and poured coffee into two delicate cups as pink petals sprinkled the table. Aria studied the gurgling sound, which was clear and sharp but oddly shapeless. The fragrant, rich scent set her mouth watering. Everything was the way it’d been for the past months. A fanciful
Realm. This table and chairs. Strong, dark coffee. Except Hess’s hands were trembling.
He took a sip. When he set the cup down, it struck with a clack. He raised his eyes to hers. “I’m disappointed, Aria. You’re late. I thought I had impressed the urgency of your task upon you. Now I wonder if you need to be reminded of what’s at stake if you fail.”
“I know what’s at stake,” she said tightly. Talon. Reverie. Everything.
“And yet you’ve taken a little detour. Do you think I can’t tell where you are? You’ve gone to see the boy’s uncle, haven’t you? Peregrine?”
Hess was tracking her movements through the Smarteye. It didn’t surprise Aria, but she felt her pulse pick up anyway. She didn’t want him to know anything about Perry. “I can’t go north yet, Hess. The pass to the Horns is frozen.”
He leaned forward. “I could have you there tomorrow on a Hover.”
“They hate us,” she said. “They haven’t forgotten the Unity. I can’t go charging in as a Dweller.”
“They’re Savages,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “I don’t care what they think.”
Aria became aware of how quickly she was breathing. Roar sat up. He watched her intently in the real, sensing her tension. Savages. She’d once thought of them that way too. Now Roar’s presence anchored and calmed her.
“You have to let me do this my way,” she said to Hess.
“I don’t like your way. You’re late reporting in. You’re wasting time with some Outsider. I want that information, Aria. Get me coordinates. A direction. A map. Anything.”
As he spoke, she noticed the shiftiness in his small eyes and the red flush creeping up his collar. In all their meetings over the winter, he’d never been this nervous and combative. Something had him worried.
“I want to see Talon,” she said.
“Not until you get me what I need.”
“No,” she said. “I need to see him—”
Everything stopped. The cherry blossoms froze, suspending in midair around her. The sound of the wind vanished, and a sudden dead silence fell over the Realm. After an instant, the petals rose up in reverse, then seemed to catch and flitter down again, normally, floating to the ground as sounds returned.
Under the Never Sky: The Complete Series Collection Page 36
