Through the Ever Night (27 page)

His departure inspired the others. One by one people made their way out, until it was only Reef and Kirra, leaving together. Perry watched them go, his heart pounding for no reason that he could understand. Then he was finally alone. He drew the candle closer and played with the flame, his eyes blurring as he tested his threshold for pain, until it guttered and went out.

When he finally stepped outside, the air smelled ashy and carried the sting of Aether. It smelled of ruin. The sky churned dark and bright. Marbled and shifting. In hours, the storm would break, and the tribe would come flooding into the cookhouse for shelter.

Flea trotted over from across the clearing, his ears bouncing up and down. Perry knelt and scratched his neck. “Hey, fleabag. You watching over things for me?”

Flea panted at him. In a flash Perry remembered him the same way weeks ago, leaning against Aria’s leg. Suddenly he was overwhelmed by the urge to feel sharp and clear again. To get her out of his head.

He shot toward the beach trail, sprinting when Flea tore ahead, turning it into a race. Perry pushed himself and jumped off the last dune, thinking of nothing more than diving into the sea.

He landed on the soft sand and froze.

Flea trotted toward a girl who was down by the shore. She was facing the water. Taller than Willow, Perry saw, with a woman’s body and hair he could tell was red, even in the blue night.

Kirra saw Flea. Then she turned around and spotted him. She lifted her hand in a small wave.

Perry hesitated, knowing he should wave good-bye and head back to the compound, but the next thing he knew, he was standing in front of her, no memory of walking across the sand or choosing to stay.

“I was hoping you’d show up,” she said, smiling.

“I thought you didn’t like the beach.” His voice sounded deep and hoarse.

“It’s not as bad when you’re here. Can’t sleep?”

“I … No.” Perry crossed his arms, fisting his hands. “I was going to swim.”

“But now you’re not?”

He shook his head. The waves were huge. Pounding on the sand. He needed to be there. In the water. Or home in his bed. Anywhere but here.

“About what I said earlier,” she said. “I should mind my own business.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Kirra lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”

Perry wanted to say yes. He didn’t want to be a fool who’d given his heart to a girl who’d left him. Didn’t want to feel weak anymore.

He didn’t answer, but Kirra came nearer anyway. Closer than she should have. He couldn’t ignore the shape of her body any longer, or the smile on her lips.

He tensed when she touched his arm, though he’d expected it. She slid her hand down to his wrist. Pulling gently, she uncrossed his arms. Then she wrapped them around her back and stepped in, closing the space between them.

O
livia, what are you doing to me?” Roar spoke in a low rush, staring into Liv’s eyes. “How could you come here?”

“I’m sorry, Roar. I thought I could help the Tides. I thought I could go through with it. I thought I could move on from you.”

As she spoke, Roar kissed her cheeks, her chin, her forehead. Aria spun and darted for the balcony, passing Liv’s wedding dress hanging by the opened doors. She kept going until her legs bumped against the low wall and her fingers gripped the cold stones and she was staring down. Down at the dark water in the distance.

She didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to hear them, but her ears were sharp—so much sharper when her adrenaline was going.

Liv’s voice. “I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

And then Roar. “It’s all right, Livy. I love you. No matter what. Always.”

Then it was quiet, and Aria heard only the wind breathing over the balcony, and their breaths, Liv’s and Roar’s, uneven and catching. Aria shut her eyes as her heart twisted and twisted. She could almost feel Perry’s arms around her. Where was he now? Was he thinking about her, too?

Seconds later, Roar and Liv appeared on the balcony together, eyes sparkling. Liv’s half-sword peeked over one shoulder. Over the other, she carried her satchel and Aria’s.

“I was coming for you tonight,” Liv said, and handed the leather pack over. She reached into her bag and brought out the Smarteye. “Sable hid it in his room. I snuck in while he slept. I’d scented pine on it earlier. I went right to it.” She handed it to Aria. “Go. Use it quickly.”

Aria shook her head. “Now?” How long until someone noticed the guards missing? “We have to get out of here.”

“You have to do it now,” Liv said. “He’ll come after us if we take it.”

“He’ll come after you regardless, Olivia,” Roar said. “We need to go.”

“He won’t,” Liv said. “Get the Still Blue. If we don’t have that, we don’t have Talon.”

There was no time to argue. Aria applied the device, and her Smartscreen appeared. She chose the Phantom icon. Soren would know whether Sable and Hess had discussed the Still Blue. She waited, expecting to fraction into the opera hall. She didn’t. Instead, two new icons appeared, generic, bearing only time counters. Soren had left her the recordings.

She chose the one with the shortest running time, growing more nervous with every passing second. Roar was in Liv’s room, listening by the door for sounds in the hall.

An image expanded on her Smartscreen. She was viewing a scratch Realm. A blank space with nothing more than darkness, broken by a single spotlight from above. Sable stood to one side, Hess to the other, the planes of their faces cut sharply by light and shadow.

Hess was wearing his official Consul uniform. Navy, trimmed with reflective slashes along the sleeve and collar. He stood rigid, straight, hands down at his sides. Sable wore a fitted black shirt and pants, and the Blood Lord chain sparkled at his neck. He had a relaxed stance, his eyes wrinkled in amusement. One man looked dangerous; the other looked deadly.

Sable spoke first. “Charming, your world. Is it always this appealing?”

Hess’s mouth lifted into a smirk. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you earlier.”

Aria realized she’d chosen the recording of their second meeting. There was no time to change. She let it play on.

“Would you prefer this?” Hess asked.

In a quiet lurch, the Realm changed. Now they stood in a thatch-roofed hut with open sides, set up high like it was on stilts. A golden savannah rolled out to the horizon, the grass undulating in waves under a warm breeze.

Hess had no idea. He had meant it as an insult. A jab at the primitive man he believed Sable to be. But for a long moment all Aria could do—all Sable could do—was stare in wonder at the sun-doused scenery. At an open, still sky. At earth that was gently baked, not cruelly burned by Aether.

Sable turned his focus back to Hess. “I do prefer it, thank you. What have you learned?”

Hess sighed. “My engineers assure me that the craft will travel over any kind of terrain. They have shields, but their effectiveness is limited. Any intense concentration of Aether will overpower them.”

Sable nodded. “I have a solution for that. What’s the total, Hess?”

“Eight hundred people. And that will be pushing their capacity.”

“That’s not enough,” Sable said.

“We were never intended to leave Reverie,” Hess said, his words clipped with frustration. “We’re not prepared for an exodus of this magnitude. Are you?”

Sable smiled. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I were.”

Hess ignored the jab. “We split the number evenly or the deal is off.”

“Yes. Fine,” Sable said impatiently. “We’ve been through the terms.”

In the real, Roar returned to the balcony. “We have to go,” he whispered, tugging on her arm. Aria shook her head. She couldn’t stop listening now.

“How soon can you be ready?” Sable asked Hess.

“A week to fuel and load the craft, and to organize the … the survivors. The Chosen.”

Sable nodded as he stared thoughtfully across the grassy plain. “Eight hundred people,” he said to himself. Then he faced Hess. “What will you do with the rest of your citizens?”

The color drained from Hess’s face. “What
can
I do with them? They’ll be told to wait for the second deployment.”

Sable’s lips lifted into a smile. “You know there won’t be a second deployment. It’s a single crossing.”

“Yes, I know that,” Hess said tightly. “But they won’t.”

Aria’s knees softened, her shoulder bumping against Liv’s. Hess and Sable were going to pick and choose who went. Who
lived
and who
died
. She couldn’t catch her breath, and she felt nauseous. Sickened by how coldly they discussed leaving people behind.

Roar’s grasp on her arm tightened. “Aria, you have to stop!”

Sounds erupted in the hall. She tensed, racing through the commands to shut off the Eye.

“In here!” someone yelled.

Roar drew his knife. Aria heard the thud of a shoulder driving open the door, and then the crash of wood against stone. In the darkness of Liv’s room, she saw a rush of movement. A black tide crashing toward them.

She backpedaled, fumbling with her satchel. Her legs slammed against the balcony wall as she shoved the Eye deep inside the leather pack. Footsteps pounded closer, and then guards appeared, shouting for them to stand down, steel flashing in the dimness.

Liv drew her half-sword from its sheath, stepping around Roar.

“Liv!” he yelled.

The guard at the helm raised a crossbow, stopping her. She stood a few paces in front of Aria and Roar, poised to slash. Sable’s guards filed in, forming a wall of red and black across the wide threshold. They were trapped on the balcony.

Everything was still, silent, except for the even, unhurried tread of footsteps. Sable’s men stepped aside as he came forward. Aria saw no trace of surprise on his face.

“The girl has the eyepiece,” one of the guards said. “I saw her put it in her bag.”

Sable’s gaze moved to her, cold and focused. Aria firmed her grip on the satchel.

“I took it,” Liv said, still in her fighting stance.

“I know.” Sable took a step forward, his chest working as he scented the air. “I knew you’d had a change of heart, Olivia. But I’d hoped you wouldn’t act on it.”

“Let them go,” Liv said. “Let them leave, and I’ll stay.”

Roar tensed beside Aria. “No, Liv!”

Sable ignored him. “What makes you think I want you to stay? You stole from me. And you’ve chosen another.” He looked to Roar. “But there might be a solution. Maybe you have too many options.”

Sable snatched the crossbow from the man at his side and trained it on Roar.

“You think that’ll change anything?” Roar said, his voice hard. “It doesn’t matter
what
you do. She’ll never be yours.”

“You think so?” Sable asked. He firmed his grip on the weapon, readying to fire.

“No!” Aria thrust the satchel out over the wall. “If you want the Smarteye back, swear you won’t hurt him. Swear in front of your men you won’t, or I’ll drop it.”

“If you do that, Dweller, I will kill you
both
.”

Liv surged forward, sword swinging. Sable adjusted his aim and fired. The bolt left the crossbow. Liv flew backward and fell.

Her body struck the stones with a sickening thud, like a heavy sack of grain heaved to the ground. Then she lay still.

The real was broken. It had a glitch, like the Realms. Liv wasn’t moving. She lay just a pace away from Aria’s feet. From Roar’s. Her long blond hair spilling over her chest. Through the golden strands, Aria saw the bolt that had struck her, blood seeping up, spreading deep red over her ivory shirt.

She heard Roar exhale. A singular sound. A sigh like a last breath.

Then she saw what would happen next.

Roar would attack Sable, no matter that it wouldn’t bring Liv back. No matter that half a dozen armed men stood beside their Blood Lord. Roar would try to kill Sable. But he would be the one killed, if she didn’t do something
now
.

She lunged. Wrapping Roar in her arms, she flung herself back, pulling them over the balcony wall. Then they were weightless and falling, falling, falling through the darkness.

F
orget about her,” Kirra whispered, staring up at him. “She’s gone.”

Her scent flowed into Perry’s nose. A brittle autumn scent. Leaves that crumbled into jagged pieces. The wrong scent, but he felt his fists unfold. His fingers spread on the small of Kirra’s back. On flesh that didn’t feel the way he wanted. Did she feel his fingers shaking?

“Perry …,” Kirra whispered, her scent warming. She licked her lips and stared up at him, her eyes glinting. “I didn’t expect this either.”

A fierce hunger rolled through him. Heartache that pounded inside his chest like the breaking waves. “Yes, you did.”

She shook her head. “It’s not why I came here. We could be good together,” she said. Then her hands were on him. Fast, cold hands running over his chest. Skimming his stomach. She moved closer, pressing her body to his, and leaned up to kiss him.