Under the Never Sky (28 page)

“I can give you some of my men,” Marron said.

Perry looked up. “No. I can’t have your people dying for me.” He’d put Marron through enough. “We won’t meet them head-to-head.” On the screen, the plateau spread around the Croven, wide and open. He wanted to be there. Outside. Moving free under the Aether. That was when it hit him.

“We could leave during a storm.”

“Peregrine,” Marron said. “Leave during an
Aether storm
?”

“The Croven are out in the open. They’d need to take shelter. It would put them off their guard. And I can keep us away from the worst of the Aether.”

Roar pushed himself off the wall, his smile eager. “We could clear the sentinels and head east. The Croven won’t follow us.”

Aria’s eyes narrowed. “Why won’t they follow us east?”

“Wolves,” Roar said.

“Our best choice is to leave during an Aether storm and head toward wolves?”

Roar grinned. “That or sixty Croven.”

“All right,” she said, lifting her chin. “Anything but the Croven.”

That afternoon, Perry strode across the roof with Roar. They’d spent the morning plotting their route and readying their packs. Now there was nothing to do but wait for a storm to build. The Aether moved in steady streams above. They wouldn’t see a storm today, but maybe tomorrow. It couldn’t come soon enough.

How was he going to wait? Waiting meant stopping. It meant
thinking.
He didn’t want to think about what was happening to Talon and Vale, stuck inside the Dweller Pod. How could Talon want to stay there? How had Vale been captured? Why was Liv roaming the borderlands when she
knew
what the cost was to the Tides?

Roar caught him hard across the shoulders, tackling him. Perry thudded onto the cement before he knew what had happened.

“One to nothing,” Roar said.

“You jaggy bastard.” He pushed Roar off and the game was on.

He usually had the upper hand when they wrestled, but he took it easy because of his hand, and that kept them more evenly matched.

“Talon wrestles better than you, Ro,” he said, helping Roar up after earning a point. Perry’s mood had begun to lift. He’d been idle too long.

“Liv’s pretty good too.”

“She’s my
sister
.” Perry lunged for him but broke away the instant Aria stepped out of the elevator. No way he’d let Roar in on his thoughts when she was around. He couldn’t help noticing that she’d changed into fitted black clothes and pulled her hair back. Roar looked from him to Aria, a knowing grin spreading over his face. Perry knew he was in trouble.

“Did I interrupt something?” Aria said, confused.

“No. We were done.” Perry grabbed his bow and stalked away. Earlier he’d dragged a wooden crate across the roof to serve as a target. He took aim, pain thudding dully in his hand.

“Perfect timing, Aria,” Roar said behind him. “Watch this. You know, Perry’s known for his skill with the bow.”

Perry fired. The arrow bit into the pine with a crack.

Roar whistled. “Impressive, isn’t he? What a great shot.”

Perry spun, halfway between laughing and wanting to kill Roar.

“Can I try it?” Aria asked. “I should know how to defend myself when we get out there.”

“You should,” he agreed. Anything she learned would help them all when they ventured beyond the wall.

Perry showed her how to hold the bow and set her feet, keeping himself upwind where he could avoid her scent. When it came to nocking an arrow, it wasn’t enough for him to tell her what to do. Drawing a bow smoothly took strength and calm. Rhythm and practice. To him, it was no more difficult than breathing, but he saw right away the only way to teach her was to guide her through the motion.

He stepped behind her, bracing himself. When he inhaled, her temper shot through him, her nerves adding to his own. Then came her violet scent, drawing his focus completely to her, to the way she looked this close, just in front of him. He fumbled with how to hold the bow. Her hand was where his usually was and he didn’t want the bowstring to snap back on her.

Roar didn’t help. “You need to get closer to her, Peregrine,” he called out. “And her stance is all wrong. Turn her hips.”

“Like this?” Aria asked.

“No,” Roar said. “Perry, just do it for her.”

He was sweating by the time they got themselves set. On their first try shooting together, the arrow clattered to the cement a few feet in front of them. On the second, it landed just in front of the crate, but the bowstring grazed her forearm, raising a red welt on her skin. By the third, Perry wasn’t sure which one of them was making the bow shake.

Roar hopped to his feet. “Not your weapon, Halfy,” he said, striding over. “Look at his shoulders, Aria. Look how tall he is.” Perry shot away from her and then shifted on his feet, self-conscious at the way she sized him up. “A bow like that has a draw weight of ninety pounds or so. It’s made for small giants, like him. He’s a Seer on top of it. All the best archers are. It’s his weapon, Aria. Suited for him. For who he is.”

“It’s second nature to you, isn’t it?” she asked him.

“First. But you can learn it. I can make a bow for you. Your size,” he said, but he could see and scent that she was disappointed.

Roar slid his knife out of its sheath. “I could teach you this.”

Perry’s heart stopped cold. “Roar . . .”

Roar knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Knives are dangerous,” he told Aria. “You can do more harm than good if you don’t know how to use one. But I’ll teach you a few things. You move easily and you have good balance. If a situation comes up, you’ll know what to do.”

Aria handed Perry his bow. “All right,” she said. “Teach me.”

Perry had to come up with something to do while he watched them. He found a branch from a tree inside the courtyard and cut it down. Then he sat against the crate making practice blades as Roar showed Aria the different ways to hold a knife. Roar had a passion for the knife. He gave her too much information about the advantages of each grip, but she listened, rapt, absorbing it all. After an hour of constant talk, they settled on a hammer grip as the best for her, which Perry had known from the start.

Next they covered stances and footwork. Aria was a quick learner and her balance was good, just as Roar had said. Perry watched them moving past each other, his gaze turning from Aria to the Aether. From the flow of her footwork to the flow of the sky.

By the time Roar asked for the carved practice knives it was late in the afternoon. Roar showed Aria the best places to strike, angles to strive for, and bones to avoid, fluttering his eyes when he told her the heart was as worthy a target as any.

And then she was ready.

Perry stood as they began to move, their wooden knives held at guard. He told himself that it was Roar. That he’d made the edge of the practice knives as dull as his thumbs. But his heart was beating too fast for just watching simple drills.

They prowled for a bit; then Aria made the first move. Roar darted past her and struck, drawing the blade firmly across her back. Aria jerked back and whirled, her knife falling out of her hand.

Perry shot forward, lunging for Roar. He pulled up short a few steps away, but Roar glared at him, his eyes full of suspicion.

Aria was breathing hard, her temper bright red, pure wrath. Perry’s muscles shook, wound tight with surprise and rage.

“First rule: Knives cut,” Roar said, his tone brutally cold. “Expect it to happen. Don’t freeze up when it does. Second rule: Don’t
ever
drop your weapon.”

“All right,” Aria said, accepting the lesson. She picked up the blade.

“You staying, Scire?” Roar asked him, lifting an eyebrow. He knew Perry had rendered to her.

“Why would he leave?” Aria said. “You’re staying, right, Perry?”

“Yeah. I’m staying.”

Perry crossed the roof and then climbed on top of the elevator box, the highest point on Delphi, and watched her train in stunned silence. He shook his head. How had he ended up rendering to a Dweller?

Aria was a quick study, daring and confident with the blade, like she’d only been waiting for a chance, a method to bring that out into the open. He’d been a fool, teaching her to find berries when this was what she’d needed. The knowledge to protect herself.

Darkness forced them to stop. The Croven’s bells rang in the distance. Perry took a final glance at the sky, disappointed when he saw no change. He climbed down, careful to keep upwind and well back as she and Roar came toward him.

Roar crossed his arms in front of the elevator. “Fine work, Halfy. But you can’t leave without paying me.”

“
Pay
you? With what?”

“A song.”

She laughed, a chirky, happy sound. “All right.”

Roar took the wooden blade from her. Aria closed her eyes, turning her face up to the Aether as she drew a few slow breaths. Then she treated them to her voice.

This song was softer, quieter than the last one. He couldn’t understand these words either, but the feel of it, he thought, was perfect. A perfect song for a cool night on a roof surrounded by pines.

Roar didn’t blink as he watched her. When she finished, Roar shook his head. “Aria . . . that was . . . I can’t even . . . Perry, you have no idea.”

Perry forced himself to smile. “She’s good,” he said, but he wondered how her voice would sound to Roar, who heard infinitely more tones.

When they stepped into the close space of the elevator, Aria’s scents flooded into his nose, a combination of violets and sweat and pride and power. He felt it all like a surge of strength inside him. He breathed again and soared with his feet on the ground. Perry couldn’t stop himself from putting his hand on the small of her back. Told himself he’d do this just once. Then he’d stay away.

She looked up at him. Her face was flushed. Strands of her dark hair clung to her sweated neck. Roar was with them, and a good thing, too. He’d never been as tempted by her, by the warm muscle he felt beneath the palm of his hand.

“You did well today.”

She smiled, fire in her eyes. “I know I did,” she said. “And thanks.”

Chapter 32
ARIA

A
ria spent two days training with Roar as they waited. Knots of Aether threatened in the distance, but the flows above Delphi held in steady streams. Another reason to call it the never sky, she thought. It never did what you wanted.

With every passing hour, her hope of finding Lumina alive dimmed, but she wouldn’t let it go. She couldn’t let herself believe she was alone. She would never stop hoping, and that meant she’d never stop worrying, either. The only way out of the agony was to go to Bliss and find out the truth. Learning the knife became the only source of relief. When she was moving across the cement with Roar, there was no room for worry or hurt or questions. So she practiced with him from morning until night, ending with her payment in song. Aria knew the Croven were still out there, but at least no one heard the ringing of their bells at dusk anymore.

They heard opera.

On the third morning, she stepped out of the elevator to a new sky, shot through with swirls of blue light. The eddies ran calm above her, but turned brighter and faster on the horizon. It was Van Gogh’s
Starry Night
, right before her eyes.

She had a feeling this was the day they’d leave.

She picked up the wooden knife. Yesterday she’d struck Roar twice. It wasn’t much, especially compared with the hundreds of times he’d struck her, but in a fight, one good hit was all it took. Roar had taught her that.

She had no illusions of becoming a master knife fighter. This wasn’t the Realms, where a thought delivered a result. But she also knew she’d given herself a better chance. And in life, at least in her new life, chances were the best she could hope for. They were like her rocks. Imperfect and surprising and maybe better in the long run than certainties. Chances, she thought,
were
life.

On the horizon, the mass of Aether began to drop blue flares she recognized as funnels. Aria watched, mesmerized, as something roused deep within her, whirling and heating through her limbs, bringing her strength as fierce as the never sky.

She decided to go through some maneuvers on her own since she’d arrived early. Gusts whipped up over the roof, the sound lulling her, as she lost herself in movement. She didn’t know how long Perry had been standing there when she finally saw him. He rested a hip against the wooden rail, his arms crossed as he stared across the treetops. She was surprised to see him. Perry had come to her training sessions with Roar, but he’d kept a distance. And she’d hardly seen him inside Delphi. She was starting to think he’d changed his mind about taking her to Bliss.

“Is it time?” she asked.

“No.” He tipped his chin. “But that looks promising. Tonight, I’d say.” He picked up the other practice knife. “Roar’s still asleep, but I’ll train with you until he gets here.”

“Oh,” she said, because it was better than blurting
You?
Like she’d almost done. “All right.” Aria drew a slow breath, her stomach suddenly buzzing with nerves.

As soon as they squared up, she knew this wouldn’t be the same at all. Perry was much taller and broader than Roar. Fearless and direct. Nothing like Roar’s light-footed grace. And it was
Perry.

“Is that the hand you usually fight with?” she asked. He had the knife in his good hand, the bandaged one held out for balance.

He grinned. “Yeah, but I may change my mind if you beat me.”

Her cheeks caught on fire. She couldn’t look at him but she
had
to look at him.
Be ready. Light on your feet. Watch for the signs.
Roar’s lessons flew from her mind. What she thought as she stared into his eyes was how green they were. How strong his shoulders looked. How, really, he was
grand.
Finally she couldn’t stand her own giddy thoughts anymore. She lunged. He blew past her right side, his movement shifting more air and light than Roar.