Hess lifted his head. “I want my son to come with me. I want you to help convince him that he should.”
Aria shook her head. “You need to help me this time. Not the other way around. This is your chance to choose right.”
“I have.” Hess stood and moved to the door, stopping there. “I’m not under any delusions. I know the kind of man Sable is. But I also know he won’t cross me. He needs me or he goes nowhere.”
“He needs you like he needs a meal.”
Wrong thing to say; she’d pushed too far.
Hess stiffened, sucking in a breath. Then he turned his back on her and left.
Later, with Soren snoring in the opposite cot, Aria told Roar everything. She started with what had been done to Perry.
Roar sat up and pushed his knuckles into his eyes. Long minutes passed and he didn’t say a word.
Watching him, Aria remembered the days after Liv had died.
She had considered not telling Roar. Did he really need to hear that the same man who’d killed Liv had tortured his best friend? But she’d needed to talk to him. She’d needed to release some of her anger or her mind would explode. And they were good at this, she and Roar. They had practice handing their worries back and forth.
She broke the silence herself, telling Roar about Loran, and that brought him back to her. He moved to her side and took her hand. He was careful. Gentle as he curled his fingers into hers.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
She knew he wasn’t asking about her injured hand. “Like I finally got what I’ve always wanted, but it’s not what I actually wanted.”
Roar nodded, like she’d made sense, and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Perry and I,” he said after a while, “neither one of us had the best luck with parents.”
Aria peered at him. She found him looking at her from the corner of his eye too.
She knew little about Roar’s past, considering how close they were. When he was eight, he’d come to the Tides with his grandmother, hungry and homeless, the soles of his shoes worn through. From the way Roar had always spoken, that was the moment his life began. He had never mentioned anything prior to that day—until now.
“My mother wasn’t the most monogamous of women. I don’t remember very much about her, other than that. Which makes us very different, considering Liv is the only girl I’ve ever been with, and she was going to be . . . I wanted her to be . . .” He sucked on his bottom lip, lost in his thoughts for a moment. “I never wanted anyone else.”
“I know.”
He smiled. “I know you know. . . . I meant to tell you about my father, not about Liv. Here’s what I know about him.” Roar released her hand and counted on slender fingers. “He was handsome.”
“I could have guessed.”
“Thank you—and a drunk.”
“I could have guessed that too.”
“Right. Well then, what am I going to say next?”
Aria sucked on her bottom lip. “That I have the opportunity to know more than two things about my father?”
He nodded. “It seems possible. He sought you out, Aria. He didn’t need to help you. Or tell you who he is.”
All true. “What if I hate what I learn about him? He’s Sable’s right-hand man. How can I respect him?”
“I was sworn to Vale for ten years and I hated him. An oath is a promise—and a promise can be made regardless of feeling.” Roar glanced at the door, and then lowered his voice. “Aria, your father . . . he could help us get out of here.”
“Maybe,” she said, but she didn’t see how. They were on opposite sides.
She let out a slow breath and rested her head on his shoulder. She’d always imagined that finding her father would be such a happy occasion. She didn’t know what she felt now, but it leaned closer to terror.
As the minutes passed with Soren snoring in the other bunk, her mind wandered back to Perry. She pictured him walking through the woods, his bow over his shoulder. She imagined him dressed in a Guardian uniform, flashing a smile at her that carried a touch of wry embarrassment. She saw him lying on a cot, so beaten he could barely move.
“I can’t stop thinking about him,” she said, when she couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Neither can I,” Roar said, knowing intuitively that him was Perry. “Maybe a song will help.”
“I’m too tired to sing.”
Too sad. Too worried. Too anxious.
“Then I will.” Roar was quiet for a moment, thinking of a song, and then he began the Hunter’s Song.
Perry’s favorite.
26
PEREGRINE
Perry woke to the prick of a needle in his arm.
A Dweller in a white smock answered his question before he voiced it.
“Medication for the pain,” she said. “They want you mobile and well enough to speak.”
Without the fear of aches lancing through his ribs every time he breathed, a feeling of intense relief swept over him. Before the doctor had left the room, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, until he heard the door slide open.
Some instinctive part of him knew it wasn’t the doctors this time. He slid off the cot, thudding to his feet as Hess and Sable entered together.
They stopped talking as they saw him, surprised to see him up.
“Good morning.” Sable’s gaze raked over Perry’s body in a methodical evaluation. His temper trilled with excitement, bright orange and pungent. The scent of obsession.
Hess only glanced at Perry, then crossed his arms and stared at his own feet.
Perry swayed unsteadily. From the corner of his eye, he could tell the bruises covering his arms and chest had darkened to deep purple.
Guardians stood by the door with guns, stun batons, cuffs, looking ready to pounce at the slightest movement.
He felt his mouth lift in amusement. What did they think he was going to do? Talon could have put up a better fight, but apparently he had a reputation. The Guardians looked—and scented—scared.
“You’re on your feet,” Sable said. “I’m surprised.”
Perry was too. Now that he’d gotten to his feet, the drugs he’d been given weren’t sitting well. Warm saliva rushed into his mouth; he was maybe five seconds from vomiting all over the floor.
“Is your arm sore?” he asked, buying himself time. He needed his stomach to settle.
Sable smiled. “Very.”
Hess cleared his throat. His posture, his expression, everything about him seemed forgettable. Trivial. “We’ll be taking you to Cinder in a moment,” he said. “He’s been distressed since he woke. He’s concerned for you, as are your other friends.”
Perry thought of Aria. If he hadn’t seen her during the night, that comment would have shaken him.
“You can avoid their suffering—and your own—if you comply,” Hess continued. “Cinder needs to acquiesce. He needs to heal and strengthen. And he needs to agree to get us through that wall. Convince him, Peregrine, or none of us stands a chance.”
Sable remained quiet as Hess spoke, his stance relaxed, his eyes half-open. He was humoring Hess. Letting him control this part of the proceedings.
Now Sable’s mouth curved into a smile. “Bring him,” he said to the men at the door.
Perry was shuttled to the room across the hall, where Cinder huddled in the corner. He looked like a newly hatched bird, folded into himself, his head bare, his eyes wide and scared.
As soon as Perry stepped inside, Cinder scampered to his feet and darted across the room. He flung himself against Perry’s chest.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said, through sobs. “I don’t know what to do. No matter what I do, you’re going to hate me.”
“Give us a minute.” Perry turned away from Hess and Sable, shielding Cinder with his back. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to protect Cinder or hide his own shakiness. Either way, this wasn’t for them to see. “We’re not going anywhere. Just give us some space.”
/>
They stayed.
“It’s all right, Cinder,” Perry said. “I’m all right.” He lowered his voice, but he knew Hess and Sable could hear everything. “Remember when you burned me?” He made a fist with his scarred and battered hand. “That was the worst pain I’ve ever felt. This doesn’t even compare.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Perry smiled. “I guess not.”
Cinder wiped at his eyes and stared at Perry’s bruises. “I don’t believe you, anyway.”
“Heartwarming. Isn’t it, Hess?” Sable said. “I wish I could enjoy this further, but we’re going to need to keep things moving along.”
Perry faced them, Cinder pressing close to his side. Kirra slipped into the room, standing by the Guardians at the door. She wore an expression Perry had never seen on her face. Sympathy.
“I hope you’ve learned that I don’t make idle threats, Cinder,” Sable said. “When my rules are broken, I punish. You understand that now, don’t you?”
Trembling against Perry, Cinder nodded.
“Good. And you know what Peregrine wants you to do. You know he wants you to help us?”
“I never said that,” Perry said.
Time stopped. The look on Hess’s and Sable’s faces—and even the Guardians behind them—was worth any price Perry would need to pay.
“I like you, Peregrine,” Sable said. “You know that. But things can become much worse for you.”
“I’m not asking him to give his life for you.”
“I can be very persuasive. Let’s see. In a room not far from this one, I have your best friend, and the girl you—”
“I’ll do it!” Cinder cried out. “I’ll do what you say!” He looked up at Perry, his tears flowing again. “I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”
Perry held him close. Cinder kept saying he was sorry, when he was the one who deserved the apologies. From Perry. From Sable and Hess, and everyone. Perry wanted to tell him that, but his vocal cords felt like they’d been clamped shut.
Sable moved to the door. He stopped there, his lips pulled in a satisfied smile. He had what he wanted. “Get the boy strong, Hess. Start him on the treatments we discussed—all of them. We move to the coast now.”
“Not yet,” Hess protested. “We can’t attempt the crossing until the boy is ready. Even with the accelerated therapy programs, he’ll need time to recover his strength, and we can’t mobilize the Komodo in this storm. We stay here and wait for it to pass while the boy heals.”
“This storm will never pass,” Sable said. “We’ll be in a better position on the coast. Poised to make the crossing once Cinder is ready.”
Hess’s face turned red. “Moving this unit requires foresight. There are preparations, safety checks, dangers to be considered that surpass your understanding. Your impatience is going to ruin our chances of surviving.”
Perry sensed the energy in the room refocus, shifting to their altercation. Kirra caught his eye. She saw it too: Hess and Sable would eventually collide. Cinder still trembled next to him.
“We act now, or we die,” Sable said.
“This ship is mine, Sable. I command it.”
Sable was silent for a beat, his pale eyes sparkling. “You’re making a mistake,” he said, and then stepped outside.
On Hess’s orders, Guardians pulled Cinder out of Perry’s arms. He struggled weakly, questions pouring out of him. “Where are you taking me? Why can’t I stay with Perry?”
Another Guardian grabbed Perry by the arm. Perry reacted instantly, pushing him into the wall. He wrapped his hand around the Guardian’s throat, pinning him. Two men drew their guns, but Perry held on, staring into the Dweller’s terrified eyes.
“Are you finished yet?” Hess asked.
“No.” He was nowhere near finished, but he forced himself to release the man and step back. “It’ll be all right,” he said to Cinder. “I promise.” Then he let the Guardians lead him back to his room across the hall.
“Wait outside,” Hess said to his men. Then he followed Perry into the room.
The door closed, leaving them alone.
Hess planted his feet and drew his shoulders back, leveling Perry with a cold stare. “If my men hear any sign of a struggle, they will come in here and shoot you.”
Perry slumped against the cot. “I could kill you silently if I wanted to.” His body hadn’t liked the burst of strength he’d used moments ago. His muscles quivered and chills raced up his back, nausea and fury battling inside him.
“So violent,” Hess said, shaking his head. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you broke into my Pod and shattered my son’s jaw.”
“He attacked Aria. You’re lucky that’s all I did.”
Hess lifted his chin, defiant like Soren, but his temper brought blue flashes to the edges of Perry’s vision. Hess feared him. Perry was beaten, unarmed, barefoot, but Hess was still afraid.
“I wouldn’t have let Sable hurt Aria,” Hess said.
“Then you should have spoken up.”
“You shouldn’t have made this so difficult! As a leader, you must know that the individual serves the group. The sacrifice of one man for the safety of many cannot be so different to your kind.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then why have you resisted?”
Perry didn’t answer at first. He didn’t want to have this conversation with a man he didn’t respect. But he needed to say what he felt aloud—for himself. It was time to accept what he’d known for weeks.
“I knew there’d be no chance for anyone without his ability. But I had to let him decide his own fate.” Perry could have ordered Cinder; the boy would’ve done anything he asked. But this way, Perry hoped, Cinder would feel like he’d kept some small sense of control over his own life. Cinder had been pressured, but he’d still made the choice in the end.
Hess made a huffing sound. “You’re his leader. You should have commanded him.”
Perry shrugged. “We see things differently.”
“How can you pretend to be so noble? Look at you. Look at what Sable’s done to you.”
“I don’t pretend, and these bruises are nothing compared to what Sable will get in return.”
Saying those words, the hunger for revenge opened up inside him, terrifying and powerful. He was no different from Roar. He’d only ignored the urge. But he couldn’t anymore.
Hess ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Your problem is that you want to challenge Sable forcibly. This is not a test of strength! We are not in the medieval era! It is about leverage and strategy.” He waved a hand, growing more anxious. “Look around you. I have control of everything. The Komodo. The fleet of Hovers outside. All the medicine, food, and weapons. I gave Sable some pistols and stun batons, but they are toys compared to what I have kept locked away. Medicines. Food. Communications. They are all under me. We go nowhere and do nothing unless I command it.”
“You left people off your list,” Perry said.
“Nonsense. They’re mine too,” Hess spat.
“You’re sure?”
“I have been a commander far longer than you’ve been alive, Outsider. My pilots and Guardians are highly trained. If you think Sable’s going to—”
The blare of an alarm exploded into the chamber. Hess’s eyes snapped up to the speakers.
Perry’s balance faltered as the floor kicked up, a feeling like falling in reverse. He jumped off the cot as the room continued to rise in upward lurches. He found his balance and met Hess’s shocked gaze just before Hess fled the room.
The Komodo was on the move.
27
ARIA
How long have we been here?” Aria asked. “In the Komodo?”
“Forty-eight hours, give or take,” Soren said. “Why?”
“I had forgotten it’s mobile,” she said.
They had their established places in the room now. Soren on the lower bunk nearest the door. Her on the other. Roar altern
ated between sitting beside her and pacing the small space between the beds.
The Komodo had been moving for an hour; the constant vibration reminded her of train rides in the Realms but far rougher. Occasionally, the chamber jerked sharply one way or another. For the first ten minutes, she’d grasped the bed frame and braced herself when that happened. After a particularly violent jolt, she’d decided not to let go.
“Does this thing have square wheels?” Roar muttered beside her.
“Wheels are circular by definition,” Soren said. “But, no, the wheels aren’t square. They’re on a continuous track with advanced suspension designed for maneuverability and tactical strength, not for bursts of speed.”
Roar glanced at her, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. “Did you get any of that?”
She shook her head. “Not much. Soren, what did you just say?”
Soren sighed, exasperated. “This thing weighs . . . I don’t even know how many tons. It weighs a lot. Moving it is like moving a small city. To do that efficiently over any kind of terrain, each of its segments sits on a rail system—wheels that roll on a track, sort of like old tanks. The track distributes the weight over a large area and makes us stable, so you shouldn’t worry that we’ll tip over. We won’t. The Komodo can climb over anything. What you should worry about is the fact that they’re forcing a workhorse to be a racehorse.”
“I liked it better when I didn’t understand him,” Roar said.
“They’re trying to outrun the Aether storm,” Aria said, but that made no sense. Hadn’t Loran told her that running was futile? Hadn’t he said that Hess recommended weathering the storm in place?
Soren snorted. “That’s not going to happen. The Komodo doesn’t run; it crawls. My father might be an idiot, but he isn’t stupid. He wouldn’t have issued the order to move during a storm. The Komodo is more vulnerable when it’s mobile, since it makes a bigger target for the funnels.”
The answer clicked in Aria’s mind. “Sable overpowered the ship. Either that or he’s forcing Hess to move.”
“Neither one of those is good for us,” Soren said.
Aria looked up sharply. The lights in the chamber flickered on and off in an erratic rhythm.
Under the Never Sky: The Complete Series Collection Page 77