Under the Never Sky: The Complete Series Collection

by Rossi, Veronica

  It was cooler and darker in there. With the floor in the other room packed, it made no sense to leave this one unused, but he couldn’t do it. He’d never been able to bear being within those walls. His mother had died there, and Mila, too. The room brought only one good memory to mind.

  He lay down on the bed, letting out a slow breath, and stared at the wooden beams of the ceiling. He’d gotten used to fighting against the pull, but now he didn’t. Now he let himself remember the way Aria had felt in his arms just before the Marking Ceremony, smiling as she asked if he ever missed anything.

  His answer hadn’t changed. The truth was that no matter how hard he tried not to, he did miss her. Always.

  28

  ARIA

  Liv smoothed her hands over the ivory silk of her wedding dress. “What do you think?” she asked. Her hair hung in tangled golden waves around her shoulders, and her eyes were puffy with sleep. “Is it all right?”

  They were in Liv’s room, a large chamber with a balcony like last night’s dining room, just a few doors down along the same corridor. A fire crackled in a huge stone hearth to one side, and thick fur rugs covered the wooden floorboards.

  Aria sat on the plush bed, watching a stout woman pin the hem of Liv’s dress. She was tired and wished she and Liv had fallen asleep here, instead of on her bed. A crisp morning breeze drifted in from outside, carrying the scent of smoke—a reminder of last night’s storm.

  “Much better than all right,” Aria answered. The simple lines of the dress complemented Liv’s long, muscular figure and enhanced her natural beauty. She looked stunning. And nervous. Since she’d put the dress on half an hour earlier, Liv hadn’t stopped drumming her fingers against her legs.

  “Hold still or I’ll prick you.” The seamstress spoke with pins pressed between her lips, her voice muffled and irritated.

  “That’s not much of a threat, Rena. You’ve pricked me ten times already.”

  “’Cause you’re wriggly as a fish. Hold still!”

  Liv rolled her eyes. “I’m tossing you into the river once you’re finished.”

  Rena huffed. “I may toss myself in well before then, dear.”

  Liv was joking, but she looked paler by the second. Aria couldn’t blame her. She was getting married in two days, bound forever to someone she didn’t love. To Sable.

  Aria glanced toward the door, her stomach knotted with anxiety. Roar still hadn’t reappeared since he’d left dinner last night.

  The sound of voices out in the hall thrummed through the thick wood. She was learning her way around the twisting corridors. Sable’s chamber was nearby. Now that he knew she was after the Still Blue, it would be harder than ever for her to break away and search for information, but she would try later.

  “What you said last night about the rebellious bird?” Liv said suddenly. “I agree with you.”

  Aria sat up. “You do?”

  Liv nodded. “There’s no taming it.... Do you think I’m too late?”

  Too late to tell Roar she loved him? Aria almost let out a laugh of pure happiness. “No. I don’t think you could ever be too late.” For the next ten minutes, as the seamstress finished, she fidgeted as much as Liv, fighting to keep the smile from her lips. When Rena left and they were finally alone, she jumped off the bed and rushed to Liv’s side. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. He’s the only thing I’ve always been sure about. Help me get this thing off. I have to find him.” In seconds she changed out of the dress into worn brown pants, leather boots, and a white long-sleeved shirt. She twisted her hair behind her back, and pulled the leather holster with her half-sword across her shoulder.

  They checked Roar’s bedroom and then Aria’s, finding both empty. Discreetly, Liv asked a few guards about Roar. No one had seen him.

  “Where do you think he is?” Aria asked as Liv led her through the corridors.

  Liv smiled. “I have some ideas.”

  Aria’s ears tuned to the voices around her as they stepped outside and took to the shadowed city streets. She could gather information while they searched for Roar.

  People took notice of Liv as they walked, recognizing her, nodding in greeting. Her height made her hard to miss. In a few days, she’d be a powerful woman—a leader, alongside Sable—and they admired her for it. Aria wondered how that would feel. Would she ever stand beside Perry, strong in her own right and accepted for who she was?

  Everyone seemed to be speaking of last night’s storm. The southern fields of Rim still burned, and everyone wondered what action Sable would take. Aria asked herself the same questions. If his land was burning—if he was suffering under the Aether like everyone else—why hadn’t he left yet for the Still Blue? Why was he waiting?

  “How big is the Horns tribe?” she asked Liv as they wove through a crowded market.

  “Thousands in the city and more in the outer reaches. He has colonies, too. He likes to have the best and the most of everything. That’s why he doesn’t like Dwellers.” She looked at Aria, her shoulders rising in a small apologetic shrug. “He can’t buy your medicines or weapons, and he hates that. He despises anything that he can’t have.”

  That made more sense than Wylan’s theory about a centuries-old grudge.

  Aria’s mind whirred as she followed Liv. How would Sable move his entire tribe of thousands to the Still Blue? Not just people, but the provisions they’d need, while staying nimble enough to avoid Aether storms? She couldn’t figure out how he’d manage it. Maybe that was why he hadn’t done it yet.

  Liv stopped in front of a slanted door with peeling red paint. The din of conversation drifted to Aria’s ears. “If Roar’s anywhere, he’s here.”

  As they stepped inside, Aria took in the long tables packed with men and women. The honey-sweet smell of Luster hung in the musty air. “A bar.” She shook her head, but had to admit it was a good place to start. The first time she’d met Roar, he’d had a bottle of Luster in his hand. She’d seen the same thing many times since.

  Roar wasn’t there, but they found him just two stops later. He sat at a table in a dark corner, alone. When he saw them, he winced and dropped his head.

  He was still slouching as Aria walked up, his hands in fists on the table.

  She sat down across from him. “You made me worry,” she said, striving for levity. “I hate worrying.”

  He peered up at her with bloodshot eyes and flashed a quick, tired smile. “Sorry.” Then he glared at Liv, who’d taken a seat beside him. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting married?”

  Liv could barely keep the smile from her lips. She reached over and rested her hand on top of Roar’s. He jolted, drawing away, but she held him in a tight grip.

  Seconds passed. Roar went from staring at her hand to staring into her eyes, his face transforming from lost to found. From broken to whole.

  Aria felt her throat tighten, and she couldn’t look at him anymore. Across the dimly lit bar, a man with sallow skin met her eyes, his gaze holding for a moment too long.

  “Liv,” she warned quietly. They were being watched.

  Liv drew her hand away, but Roar didn’t move. His eyes glossed with tears. He was holding his breath. Holding on to the last of his self-control.

  “You almost killed me,” he whispered hoarsely. “I hate you, Liv. I hate you.”

  It was such a lie. It was as far from the truth as words could be. Here, among Sable’s people, it was all he could say.

  “I know,” Liv said.

  A sour-faced older woman by the bar cut her eyes at Aria. Suddenly everyone seemed to be watching and listening. “We have to get out of here,” she whispered.

  “Liv, you need to leave,” Roar said quietly. “Right now. It’s too much of a risk for you to stay. He’ll know how you feel.”

  Liv shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t change anything. He knew the minute you showed up.”

  Aria leaned toward them. “Let’s go,” she said, just as Sable’s guards burst thr
ough the door.

  Aria and Roar were stripped of their knives and hauled back through the city streets. Seeing them treated like captives, Liv yelled and flew into a fury that fell just short of drawing her half-sword, but the guards didn’t relent. Sable’s orders, they told her.

  Aria exchanged a worried look with Roar as they approached Sable’s looming fortress. Liv had said that Sable knew the truth of her feelings for Roar. She hadn’t seemed concerned. Their marriage was arranged; it had never been about love. But a hard pit of worry settled in Aria’s stomach.

  They were taken past the great hall—now empty and silent—and through the winding corridors to the dining room with the bramble centerpiece and the rust-colored drapes. Sable sat at the table, talking with a man Aria recognized. He was bedraggled, spoons and trinkets hanging from his clothes. His teeth were few and crooked.

  He looked vaguely familiar, like a figure she’d seen in a dream—or a nightmare. Then she remembered. She’d caught a glimpse of him during her Marking Ceremony. He was the gossip who’d been there the night she’d been poisoned.

  A single thought blared inside her mind.

  This man knew she was a Dweller.

  When he saw them, Sable pushed back his chair and stood. He looked briefly at Liv and Roar, his expression even, almost disinterested, before turning to focus on her.

  “Sorry to spoil your fun this afternoon, Aria,” he said as he walked toward her, “but Shade here has just shared some interesting facts about you. It seems I was right. You are unique.”

  Her heart slammed against her ribs as he stopped in front of her. She couldn’t look away from his piercing blue eyes. When he spoke again, the cutting tone in his voice sent a chill up her spine. “Did you come here to steal what I know, Dweller?”

  She saw only one possible move. One chance. She had to take it.

  “No,” she said. “I’m here to offer you a deal.”

  29

  PEREGRINE

  I hate this,” Kirra said.

  Perry watched Kirra brush sand off her hands as he took a drink from his water skin. “You hate sand? I’ve never heard anyone say that.”

  “You think it’s ridiculous.”

  He shook his head. “No. More like impossible … like hating trees.”

  Kirra smiled. “I’m indifferent toward trees.”

  Along the dunes, their horses tugged at the sea grass.

  They’d spent most of the day with Marron, assigning Kirra’s people to different tasks. Then Perry had shown Kirra his northern borders—he could use her people’s help on watch as well. Now they’d stopped for a quick rest along the coast before returning to the compound.

  They needed to get back soon—a storm was building from the north—but he wanted just a few more minutes of not being Blood Lord.

  Kirra had been easier to be around that morning. And with plenty of work to be done, she had a point about them getting along. He’d decided to give her a chance.

  She leaned back on her elbows. “Where I come from, we have lakes. They’re quieter. Cleaner. And it’s easier to scent without all the salt in the air.”

  It was the opposite for him. He preferred the way scents carried on moist ocean air. But then, that was what he’d always known. “Why did you leave?”

  “We were forced out by another tribe when I was young. I grew up in the borderlands until we were brought in by the Horns. Sable’s been good to me. I’m his favorite for missions like this. I don’t complain. I’d rather be on the move than stuck in Rim.” She smiled. “Enough about me.” Her gaze fell to his hand. “I’ve been wondering how you got those scars.”

  Perry flexed his fingers. “Burned it last year.”

  “Looks like it was bad.”

  “It was.” He didn’t want to talk about his hand. Cinder had torched it. Aria had bandaged it. Neither were things he wanted to share with Kirra. Quiet stretched out between them. Perry looked across the ocean, to where the Aether flashed deep on the horizon. Storms were constant now, out at sea.

  “I didn’t know about the girl—the Dweller—when I first got here,” Kirra said after a while.

  He resisted the urge to change the subject again. “So there’s something you hadn’t heard about me.”

  She tipped her head to the side, mirroring him. “It sounds like I just missed her,” she said. “What if we’re the same person? Maybe I’m her in disguise.”

  That surprised him. He laughed. “You’re not.”

  “No? I bet I know you better than she did.”

  “I don’t think so, Kirra.”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “Really? Let’s see.... You worry about your people, and it’s a deep worry, more than the responsibility of wearing the chain. Like taking care of other people is something you need to do. If I had to guess, I’d say protection and safety are things you never knew yourself.”

  Perry forced himself not to break eye contact with her. He couldn’t blame her for knowing what she did. She was like him. It was the way they took in people. Down to the core of their emotions. Down to their deepest truths.

  “You have a strong bond with Marron and Reef,” she continued, “but your relationship with one is harder on you than the other.”

  True again. Marron was a mentor, and a peer. But sometimes Reef seemed more like a father—a connection that had never felt easy.

  “Then there’s Cinder,” she said. “You’re not rendered to him, as far as I can tell, but there’s something powerful between you.” She paused, waiting for him to comment, and continued when he didn’t. “What’s really interesting is your temper around women. You’re obviously—”

  Perry gave a choked laugh. “All right, that’s enough. You can stop now. What about you, Kirra?”

  “What about me?” She sounded calm, but a vibrant green scent reached him, shimmering with anxiety.

  “For two days you’ve been trying to draw me in, but today you’re not.”

  “I’d still try to draw you in if I thought I stood a chance.” She said it plainly, no apology. “Anyway, I’m sorry about what you’re going through.”

  He knew he was being baited, but he couldn’t help himself. “What I’m going through?”

  She shrugged. “Being betrayed by your best friend.”

  Perry stared at her. She thought Aria and Roar were together? He shook his head. “No. You heard wrong. They’re just friends, Kirra. They both had to go north.”

  “Oh … I guess I just assumed, since they’re both Auds, and they left without telling you. Sorry. Forget I said anything.” She looked up at the sky. “That’s looking bad.” She stood, brushing off sand from her hands. “Come on. We should head out.”

  As they rode back to the compound, Perry couldn’t block out the images.

  Roar lifting Aria into a hug that first day, at his house.

  Roar standing at the top of the beach, joking after Perry had been kissing Aria. That was killing me too, Per.

  A joke. It had to have been a joke.

  Aria and Roar singing in the cookhouse the night of the Aether storm. Singing perfectly, like they’d done it a thousand times before.

  Perry shook his head. He knew how Aria felt toward him—and how she felt toward Roar. When they were together, he scented the difference.

  Kirra had done this to him on purpose. She’d planted the idea to throw him into doubt, but Aria hadn’t betrayed him. She wouldn’t do that, and neither would Roar. That wasn’t why she had left.

  He didn’t want to think about the real reason why. He’d pushed it back, where he’d kept the thought for weeks, but it wouldn’t stay. Wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t let him go.

  Aria had left because she’d been poisoned. She had left because there—in his home, right under his nose—she’d almost been killed. She had left because he’d promised to protect her, and he hadn’t. That was why.

  Because he’d failed her.

  30

  ARIA

  It’s called a Smarteye,�
�� Aria said, holding the device in her trembling hands. She sat at the dining table with Sable, a steady rain pattering outside on the stone balcony. Night was falling, and she heard the Snake River, swollen with rainwater, rushing far below.

  “I’ve heard of them,” Sable said.

  Aria remembered the look in his eyes from the last time they’d sat at that table. He’d snatched her wrist then. He’d hurt her with no hesitation.

  Liv sat in silence beside him, her face emotionless. At the far end of the room, Roar looked calm, leaning against the wall, but his gaze moved from Sable to the guards by the door, calculating and intense.

  Aria swallowed, her throat tight and dry. “I’ll contact Consul Hess now.”

  She’d never felt more self-conscious as she applied the device. Even the guards by the door stared at her. At least Sable had sent the scraggly gossipmonger away.

  When she fractioned, she appeared in Hess’s office again. He stood by the wall of windows behind his desk. Like before, she saw the even levels of the Panop and felt the same twist of homesickness.

  “Yes?” he said impatiently.

  “I’m here with Sable.”

  “I know where you are,” Hess said, his irritation plain.

  “I mean he’s here,” she said. “Sable is in front of me right now.”

  Hess came around his desk, suddenly focused. Alert. She continued. “He knows where the Still Blue is, but he needs transportation. He says he’s open to a trade.”

  Aria heard herself speaking, the sound of her own voice oddly far away. In the real, she felt the wooden back of the chair pressed against her spine, the sensation dull and distant. She was in Sable’s dining room and Hess’s office, but everything felt unreal. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “Sable offered to negotiate?”

  Aria shook her head. “No. It was my idea. I took a guess at what he needed, and I know what we have.” She’d seen the hangar lined with Hovercraft months ago in Reverie, the day she’d been left on the outside. “I followed a hunch,” she said. “I had to—and I was right.”