Under the Never Sky: The Complete Series Collection

by Rossi, Veronica

  Aria licked her lips. Her stomach was already in knots and they’d just gotten started.

  Perry caught her eye and gave her a slight nod, like he knew the words on the tip of her tongue.

  “Keep going, Soren,” Aria said quietly. “You’re doing fine.”

  Soren seemed to collect himself. “I know I am,” he said, though his voice lacked its usual bravado.

  Hess’s avatar came to life. His shoulders lifted—the same small shiver Soren had done moments ago. Soren controlled it now. He would use the avatar like a puppet, directing it through the Smarteye.

  “Always wanted to be just like you, Dad,” he said under his breath. “I’m linking into the Komodo’s system.”

  His fingers glided over the Belswan’s controls, effortlessly controlling the avatar and the Hover’s instrumentation. This was his language, Aria thought, as surely as singing was hers.

  In front of the windshield, a transparent screen flickered up, divided into three segments. Hess occupied the center. The screen on the right contained a combination of maps, coordinates, and scrolling flight plans, all lit in neon blue. The left-hand screen showed a cockpit like the Belswan’s, but smaller. It was the inside of the patrolling Dragonwing—the ship they intended to commandeer.

  Four Guardians in flight suits and helmets sat in two rows.

  Hess—or rather, Soren as Hess—spoke right away, the avatar suddenly brimming with an authoritativeness Aria knew well. “Patrol Alpha One Nine, this is Commander One, over.”

  He paused, waiting for the information to make an impact.

  And it did.

  The Dragonwing crew exchanged worried looks. Commander One was Consul Hess. They were receiving a direct message from the very top.

  The Guardian at the comm responded. “Alpha One Nine, copy. Over.”

  They’d bought it. Aria let out her breath and sensed Perry relax beside her.

  “Alpha One Nine,” said the Hess avatar, “we picked up a distress message from a downed Hover, three—no, make that four—minutes ago on your incoming. Does anyone want to tell me why you’re not responding?”

  Soren played his father perfectly, uttering the words with simmering condescension and barely contained hostility.

  “Negative on the message, sir. We didn’t receive it. Over.”

  “Stand by, One Nine,” Hess said. Soren kept the transmission running, letting the Guardians observe Hess as he turned, bellowing to a control room that wasn’t there, that would be nothing more than a figment of everyone’s imagination. “Somebody get him the coordinates. Now, people. My son is on that ship!”

  “Your son, sir?” said the Dragonwing pilot. Surely he knew that Soren had stayed behind in Reverie as it crumbled, but that didn’t mean Soren hadn’t survived—or that Hess wouldn’t welcome him back.

  Hess turned to an imaginary underling and said, “Have his hearing checked when he gets back. And if those coordinates aren’t up in—”

  The screen with the flight plans blinked. New information trickled down—maps, diagrams of the Belswan, coordinates—all running like fluorescent raindrops from top to bottom.

  Hess leaned forward, looking into the camera eye. “Listen closely. I want everyone on that ship here in one hour. If you fail me, don’t bother coming back. Acknowledge, Alpha One Nine. Over.”

  Aria barely heard “Affirm, sir” before the image of Hess disappeared.

  Soren had cut off the comm. He rocked back against the pilot seat, breathing fast, his chest rising and falling. “My father is an orangutan’s ass,” he said after a moment.

  No one disagreed. That seemed to deflate him, though the words had been his own. He pressed his eyes closed, wincing, before he returned to the controls, powering the Belswan down completely.

  The darkness in the cockpit startled Aria, even though she had expected it. Small rivers of rainwater flowed down the windshield.

  Aria clicked on a flashlight, the beam illuminating Soren’s face.

  “See?” he said, through clenched teeth. “Easy.”

  So far, Aria thought. It would only get more dangerous.

  They left the cockpit and hurried to the bay doors. As she jogged outside, the rain slapped her shoulders and face and pounded against the ramp, raising a riotous clatter.

  Beneath the back end of the Belswan, Brooke and Roar fed green branches to a fire partially covered by a field tent and hidden beneath the tail end of the Hover. The effect was convincing: billows of smoke curled around the tail of the Hover, obscuring it and giving the appearance of wreckage.

  A thick waft drifted past, and Aria turned away, stifling a cough into her wet sleeve.

  “I should be in front,” Soren said, jogging up beside her. One minute outside, and she was already soaked. “I should be the first contact point.”

  Perry shook his head. “No. We stick to the plan.”

  Soren wheeled around, facing Perry. “You saw how nervous the Guardians were. It’ll make it worse if they don’t see me right away.”

  “Wrong, Dweller. You’re the asset. They’ll expect your position to be protected, which is by the ramp like we planned.”

  “He’s right, Soren,” Aria said.

  They each had parts to play in the mission, based on their strengths. Perry, Roar, and Brooke knew how to stay calm in life-and-death standoffs, and their Senses would bring obvious advantages. They were best suited to engage the Guardians first.

  “It’s a rescue,” Soren pressed. “They’re not going to expect—”

  “Stay here!” Perry snapped, fury sparking in his eyes. “Don’t move from this spot, or I swear I’ll break your face again.”

  He glanced at Aria, a quick flash of green, and then he jogged away, small eruptions of water punctuating every step. He was so tall—so noticeable—but in seconds he melted into the woods along the edge of the clearing. Brooke and Roar followed. All three disappeared into the rain-blurred shadows beneath the tree cover.

  “Who does he think he is?” Soren said.

  “He’s the blood ruler person,” Jupiter said.

  “Quiet!” Aria said, scanning the hills in the distance. Her ears tuned to a sound through the hissing rain. A drone like bees. Through a scrim of smoke and rain, she spotted a luminous dot moving across the hills. A point, like a blue flare, streaked toward them.

  The Dragonwing.

  It cut through the air like a blade, the sound of its engine growing louder as it neared. Louder and louder, until she wanted to clamp her hands over her ears.

  Wind and rain whipped into her face. Aria flinched and turned to the side to shield herself. She blinked, clearing her eyes, and the ship was suddenly there, floating in place just a hundred paces away.

  Her gut twisted at the sight. Beside her, Jupiter took a step back and Soren cursed under his breath. Sleek and compact, gleaming like a drop of moonlight, the Dragonwing Hover looked like raw speed.

  As she watched, landing gear hatched from the craft’s belly and then gracefully settled onto the rain-soaked grass.

  The bay doors slid open, and three Guardians jumped to the ground, landing with a splash.

  Only three. That meant one crew member had stayed inside.

  She shifted on her feet, her pulse hammering. They’d practiced what to do in this scenario. It would increase the risk—for Perry especially—but they were ready. They could do this.

  The Guardians wore lightweight suits and helmets with goggles, just like them. One of the men stayed by the craft, while the other two crossed the clearing toward Aria. They came forward cautiously, their guns sweeping the terrain for danger or any sign of threat.

  When a red light moved across her chest, everything took on a faraway quality, distant and slow. The sound of the rain fading. The fat drops pelting her shoulders disappearing. Everything receded except the seed of pain inside her bicep.

  “Hands up! Hands in the air!” yelled one of the men.

  At her sides, Soren’s and Jupiter’s hands li
fted. Aria glimpsed curled fingers in her peripheral vision and realized her hands were up too. She didn’t feel any pain in her bad arm. She hadn’t even realized she had that range of motion.

  In the distance, Roar emerged from the woods and moved toward the Guardian posted by the Dragonwing, approaching from behind, as stealthy and purposeful as a panther.

  She saw a blur of movement as he closed in, slamming into the Guardian with so much force that she jerked back and felt the wind rush out of her own lungs.

  In an instant, Roar had the man on the ground. He jammed a knee into the Guardian’s spine, pressing a compact Dweller gun to his head.

  Soren gasped, feral energy vibrating off him. She had seen Roar’s efficient ruthlessness before, but Soren hadn’t.

  Perry darted out of the woods, passing Roar and diving into the Dragonwing. Then Brooke emerged and took her place behind the two Guardians who continued their careful approach, unaware of their fallen teammate at Roar’s feet.

  “Put your weapons down!” Brooke yelled, raising a gun. The two men spun and froze as they saw her. Aria drew her pistol from a concealed holster. It felt awkward handling the weapon with her non-dominant hand, but she doubted she’d need to use it.

  The four Guardians had been neutralized: Perry would have the man inside the Hover handled. Roar had taken care of the Guardian outside the craft. She and Brooke had the two in the clearing.

  Everything was under control. Just like they planned.

  Until Soren reached behind his back and drew a gun.

  12

  PEREGRINE

  Perry crashed into the Dragonwing’s cockpit, spotting his target, the Guardian who’d stayed behind, in the pilot seat.

  The man grabbed for the gun at his belt. His hand never touched the weapon.

  Perry jammed his knee into the Guardian’s face. Not the blow he’d intended, but the space was tight. He caught the slumping Guardian by the collar and dragged him to the bay door, tossing him out into the rain, where he landed a few paces from Roar’s man.

  Perry jumped down from the Dragonwing. He didn’t need to say a word to Roar, who knew exactly what to do.

  “I got it, Perry. Go,” Roar said before his feet even hit the mud.

  Perry sped past him, running toward Brooke. Across the flooded field, smoke still spewed from beneath the tail of the Belswan. He was struck by how small Aria, Soren, and Jupiter looked against the Hover. Brooke stood halfway across the field, between the two Hovers, pointing a gun at the pair of Guardians she’d surprised from behind.

  The two men still held their guns as they assessed the situation. Perry watched them consider their overpowered teammates lying in the mud at Roar’s feet. Then Brooke and Aria, both with guns. And finally him, jogging up.

  The Guardians had no options. They would recognize that and yield. They should’ve already seen that by now, but something didn’t feel right.

  Perry was twenty paces away from Brooke when he spotted the gun in Soren’s hand.

  “You heard her!” Soren screamed at the top of his lungs. “She said put your weapons down!”

  The Guardians looked from Brooke to Perry to Soren, their movements jerky. They drew together, back to back, their guns raised.

  “Do it!” Soren screamed.

  They will, Perry wanted to shout. Give them a chance and they’ll do it!

  He bit back the words. Panic fed panic. Yelling would only make matters worse.

  Soren’s arms straightened, his gun swinging between the Guardians. “I told you, weapons down!”

  A single pop broke into the air, muffled by the patter of the rain but unmistakable.

  Soren had fired. He jolted back, absorbing the recoil.

  An instant later, shots exploded into the air as the Guardians fired back.

  Brooke cried out as she dropped to the ground. Aria, Soren, and Jupiter scattered, running back to the Belswan.

  Every muscle in Perry’s body wanted to sprint toward them, but he threw himself down. Wet earth coughed as bullets struck around him. He rolled, splashing through rainwater. In the middle of a field, there was nowhere to find cover.

  The shots stopped, the drone of the rain filling the quiet. He lifted his head. The Guardians were running for the woods.

  The shorter man of the two turned as he fled, unleashing a barrage of shots at Roar, who crouched by the Dragonwing.

  Roar launched himself beneath the craft, disappearing to the other side.

  More gunshots. Whistling overhead on a path to Aria. Slapping the mud by Perry’s arms.

  Ignoring them, he brought his gun up, everything he knew about shooting falling into place. He relaxed his muscles, letting the bones in his arms support the weapon. Then he aimed and let out his breath, firing two shots. Adjusting slightly, he found the next man and squeezed the trigger twice again.

  They were clean shots, all. Kill shots.

  The Guardians went sprawling just before the tree line.

  Perry leaped up before they’d fallen to the earth. Scrabbling for a foothold in the thick mud, he half sprinted, half slid to the Belswan, one thought blaring in his mind. One person.

  “I’m fine,” Aria said as he reached her.

  He took her by the shoulders and looked her over anyway. Head to toe. Toe to head. She was all right. He waited for the relief to set in, but it wouldn’t.

  “Perry, are you?” Aria asked, her eyes narrowing.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  A wailing sound pulled his attention away. Nearby, Jupiter clutched his thigh as he writhed in agony on the ground. Brooke knelt beside him. Blood poured from a cut high on her scalp, running down one side of her face.

  “It’s nothing, Perry,” she said. “Just a graze, but he’s worse. They got him in the leg.”

  Aria moved to Jupiter’s other side. “Let me see, Jup. Calm down and let me see.”

  Perry glanced across the field. Roar stood by the Dragonwing, over the bodies of the other two Guardians. Perry whistled, and Roar looked up. He shook his head, and Perry understood. Roar had shot them. He’d needed to. The instant Soren’s gun went off, there’d been no other possible outcome.

  Perry’s vision began to tunnel, his rage focusing on one point. Wheeling, he snatched Soren up by the collar. “What’s wrong with you?” he yelled.

  “They weren’t putting down their guns!”

  Soren struggled, but Perry held him fast. “You didn’t give them a chance!”

  “Yes, I did! How much time does it take to lower a gun? An hour?” Soren stilled, no longer fighting against Perry’s grip. “It was only supposed to be a warning shot! I didn’t know they’d shoot back!”

  Perry couldn’t respond. He wanted to break Soren’s jaw again. Prevent him from ever speaking another word. “I should have finished you off the first time, Dweller.”

  Roar jogged up. “We need to move, Perry. Time’s running.”

  “You’re going back,” Perry said, releasing Soren with a shove. “You’re out of this.”

  Soren was a danger. There was no way Perry would take him into the Komodo now.

  “Oh yeah? Who’s going to fly the Dragonwing for you?” Soren tipped his head to Jupiter. “Him? I don’t think so. Who’s going to get you to Cinder inside the Komodo? You think you’re just going to stumble up to him, Savage?”

  “I should’ve learned to fly Hovers,” Aria said.

  Her tone was wry, but her temper was ice. Controlled. Perry drank it in, letting it take the edge off his own anger.

  “We have to bring him, Perry,” she said. “The Guardians are all dead. Jupiter and Brooke are hurt. If Soren doesn’t come, it’s over.”

  Perry looked at Soren. “Get in the Dragonwing and wait there. Don’t even blink without telling me first.”

  Soren marched away, grumbling. “I’m blinking, Savage. I’m doing it right now.”

  “Soren,” Roar called. When Soren looked back, Roar flung his knife into the air. The blade spun end over
end, heading right for Soren, who yelped and dodged aside.

  It missed him by a hair, as Roar had surely intended. Roar never missed.

  “Are you insane?” Soren yelled, his face turning red.

  Roar jogged over and calmly picked up his knife, but he sheathed the blade with a vicious thrust. “That’s how you do a warning shot.”

  Perry watched them walk to the Dragonwing. Same direction, twenty paces between them. Then he carried Jupiter into the Belswan, setting him down in the pilot seat.

  Aria had already boarded the ship. She tied a tourniquet around Jupiter’s leg. Then she wrapped a bandage around Brooke’s head as she relayed instructions to Brooke for treating Jupiter’s wound. Anticoagulant. Pressure. Pain medication. Everything was in the kit at her feet.

  Jupiter rambled, asking over and over if he was going to die. The blood from his leg mixed with the rainwater on the floor of the craft. From what Perry could tell, the shot had only hit muscle, the bullet cutting through cleanly. As gunshot wounds went, it was a good one, but Jupiter blathered on until Aria put her hand over his mouth, silencing him.

  “Pay attention,” she said. “You need to fly this Hover, Jupiter. Get back to the cave. Brooke knows the way. They’ll take care of you there.”

  “We’ll get there,” Brooke said, smiling. “Don’t worry about us. Go. And good luck.”

  “You too, Brooke,” Aria said. “Be safe.” Then she darted out of the cockpit.

  Perry caught her at the top of the ramp. A sheet of rain fell across the opening, blocking the outside like a waterfall. He grabbed her by the hips, afraid of hurting her arm—and that was the problem right there.

  Four dead. Two injured.

  And they hadn’t even reached the Komodo yet.

  “Aria, that was too close—”

  “I’m going with you, Perry,” she said, spinning to face him. “We’re getting Cinder back. We’re getting Hovers, and then we’re going to the Still Blue. We started this together. That’s how we’re going to finish it.”

  13

  ARIA

  With Soren piloting the Dragonwing, they sped through the lashing rain toward the Komodo, their breaths loud and ragged in the quiet of the cockpit. They were a quartet of pure stress, each of them fighting to regain focus.