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Perry looked at him. “Yes, you do. ”
He’d explained his conversation with Sable to Cinder in the Battle Room, though Cinder had already known. Cinder had already decided to help the Tides, he’d told Perry. From the moment he’d acquiesced to Sable in the Komodo, he’d said he felt ready.
But now his eyes filled with tears. “Remember when I burned your hand? How you said that was the worst pain you’ve ever felt?”
Perry looked down at his scars, flexing his hand. “I remember. ”
Cinder said nothing more. He turned forward, but Perry knew what he was thinking. His ability was a wild, untamed thing. He tried to control it, but didn’t always succeed.
Perry didn’t know whether either of them would live through the next hours. He had been around Cinder a few times when he channeled the Aether. This time would be very different—it was the only thing he was sure about.
“I want to be here, Cinder. We’re getting through this, all right?”
Cinder nodded, his bottom lip quivering.
They fell quiet again, listening to the tremble of the Dragonwing and the hum of the engine. The ocean seemed endless, hypnotic. As they put mile after mile behind them, Perry imagined hunting alone. Tickling Talon until he broke into big, hiccupping belly laughs. Sharing a bottle of Luster with Roar. Kissing Aria and feeling her breathing, sighing, shivering under his hands.
He was deep in his thoughts until he saw a thin line of brilliant light on the horizon.
He sat up. It was the barrier, he had no doubt.
“Do you see it?” Cinder said, looking at him.
“I see it. ”
With every minute that passed, the line became larger, broader, until Perry wondered how it had ever looked like a line. He squinted, eyes straining at the brightness. The barrier seemed endless. Great twisting columns of Aether rained from above, but they ran upward as well, circling. The flows formed a curtain that was larger than anything he’d ever seen, reaching up endlessly—like the ocean had been lifted up to the sky.
Cinder let out a whimpering sound as the Hover slowed.
Sixty feet below, the ocean currents were churned in whirlpools, stirred by the Aether. Crossing in boats would have been suicide. Without the Hovers, they’d have been doomed.
Perry could see very little beyond the curtain of Aether— it was like looking through flames or rippling water—but in the small glimpses he did catch, he saw that the color of the ocean was different there.
The waves shimmered with unfiltered sunlight.
The Still Blue was golden.
41
ARIA
Aria’s mind flitted from one thing to another. Falcon Markings that reached shoulder to shoulder. Sandals made of book covers. Opera songs and earthworms and a voice as warm as the afternoon sun. They had one thing in common.
Perry. Every thought came back to him.
She sat in the cargo hold of the Belswan Hover with Talon on one side and Roar on the other, her eyes on the window on the opposite side of the hold. She had been staring at it since leaving the bluff, watching the Aether outside and wondering if she should move closer. If she should look outside, where she might see Perry’s Hover.
She’d passed hours this way, she was almost sure, but time didn’t feel right.
Nothing did.
When the Hover slowed, her stomach leaped into her throat. She jumped up, Roar right beside her.
“What’s going on?” Talon asked.
The question was suddenly on everyone’s lips.
“We’re here,” Sable said over the speaker, silencing them. “Or I should say, almost here. Before we make the crossing, why don’t we hear some words from your Blood Lord? Go ahead, Peregrine. ”
