“That’s putting it lightly. The glitch just now—how often is that happening?”
“A few times a day. I looked into it. Power surges. One of the domes that houses a generator was compromised this winter, so things are … glitchy.”
A wave of numbness rolled through her. It was the same thing that had happened to Bliss, the Pod where her mother had died. “Can’t they fix it?”
“They’re trying. It’s what they’ve always done. But with Aether storms getting worse, they can’t patch the damage fast enough.”
“That’s why your father is pressuring me for the Still Blue.”
“He’s desperate—and he should be. We have to get out of here. It’s just a matter of time.” He smiled darkly. “That’s where you come in. You wanted to see them, and I told you what’s happening in Reverie. Now you have to help me when I come out there.”
She studied him. “You’re really ready to leave everything?”
“What everything, Aria?” He glared at the audience seats. “You want to know what I’m leaving? A father who ignores me. Who doesn’t even trust me. Friends I can’t see, and a Pod that’s an Aether storm away from ruin. You think I’m going to miss any of that? I’m already on the outside.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. Calming himself. “Do we have a deal or not?”
He was a long way from the cocky, controlling Soren she remembered. That night in Ag 6 had transformed both of them. “Things aren’t any easier out here.”
“Does that mean yes?”
She nodded. “But only if you look after someone until you come out here.”
He froze. “Caleb? Done. Even though he’s a worthless piece of—”
“I wasn’t talking about Caleb.”
Soren blinked at her. “You mean the Savage’s nephew? The Outsider who broke my jaw?”
“He did it because you were attacking me,” she snapped. “Don’t forget that part. And you better think again if you’re coming Outside for revenge. Perry would destroy you.”
Soren put his hands up. “Easy, tigress. I was just asking. So what do you want me to do—babysit the kid?”
She shook her head. “Make sure Talon stays safe—no matter what. And I want to see him.”
“When?”
“Right now.”
Soren worked his jaw side to side as he stared down at her. “Fine,” he said. “I’m curious. Let’s go see the little Savage.”
Ten minutes later, Aria sat on the pier and watched as Talon taught Soren how to cast out. Athletic and competitive, Soren actually wanted to learn, and Talon picked up on that. As she watched them prattle on about bait, she felt unexpectedly optimistic. Somehow the two castoffs were getting along.
Soren had a fish on the line as she left them and moved through the commands to shut off the Eye. Aria slipped it back into her satchel and woke Roar.
It was time to meet Sable.
21
PEREGRINE
A week after the raid, Perry woke in the darkness. The house was still, his men lay scattered in slumbering mounds across the floor, and the first tinge of daylight bled through the cracks in the shutters.
He’d dreamed of Aria. Of the time months ago when she’d convinced him to sing to her. His voice rough and breaking, he’d sung the words of the Hunter’s Song while she listened, nestled in his arms.
Perry pressed his fingers to his eyes until he saw stars instead of her face. He’d been such a fool.
He pulled himself to his feet and wove past the Six to the loft. Gren still hadn’t returned from the journey to Marron’s, and as Perry had feared, the Tides were going hungry. He saw it in the new angles in Willow’s face. Heard it in the sharp edge in the Six’s voices. A constant ache had settled in his gut, and yesterday he’d needed to cut a new notch in his belt. He didn’t feel it yet, but he worried that weakness would come next.
Perry couldn’t spend any more effort on fields that might end up burning. Between overhunting and Aether storms, tracking game was nearly impossible. So they relied on the sea more than ever and managed, most of the time, to fill the cooking pots at the end of the day. No one complained about the taste of food anymore. Hunger had done away with that.
Their position by the coast was an advantage other tribes wanted. Reports came daily from his patrol of bands sniffing at the edge of his territory. Perry knew he couldn’t wait for Marron’s help anymore. He couldn’t wait for the next storm or the next raid. He needed to do something.
He climbed a few rungs until he could see into the loft. Cinder lay sprawled across the mattress, snoring softly. The night of the raid, he’d scurried up there, terrified and teary, and it had been his place ever since. His eyes twitched in sleep, a bead of drool slipping down the side of his mouth. His black wool cap was crumpled in his hand.
Perry was reminded of Talon then, though he wasn’t sure why. He guessed Cinder to be about five years older than Talon, and they were nothing alike in temperament. Perry had been with Talon every day of his life until he’d been kidnapped. He’d held Talon in his arms and watched him drift asleep, and seen him unfold, day by day, into a child who was gentle and wise.
He knew next to nothing about Cinder; the boy hadn’t breathed a word about his past, or his power. When he did speak, it was often to snap and bite. He was guarded and reactive, but Perry felt a bond with him. Maybe he didn’t know Cinder, but he understood him.