Into the Still Blue

Page 21

“Perry,” Aria said, her breath warm on his cheek.
He made a sound that he hoped passed for yes.
“Something’s going on between Hess and Sable.”
He froze.
“Are you all right?” She drew back, concern in her eyes.
He let out a breath, struggling to recover the power to think. “Yeah . . . I didn’t, um . . . I didn’t expect you to say that.”
“I wish I didn’t have to, but Loran’s coming back. He’ll be here any moment, and we should talk about this while we can.”
“Right . . . we should.” He pulled the hem of her shirt down and concentrated on Hess. Sable and Hess. “I noticed the same thing earlier. Hess is scared out of his mind. I scented it. Sable has him by the throat.”
Aria bit her bottom lip, her eyes losing their focus. “I thought Hess would have the upper hand, since he has all the resources. All the ships and weapons. Food and medicine, too. It all came from Reverie. It’s all his.”
“None of that matters anymore, Aria. He’s in our territory now. Out here he lives by our rules, and he knows that. Maybe he was different before he came out here—”
“No,” she said. “He wasn’t. He’s always been a coward. When he threw me out of Reverie, he had Guardians do it. He had me spy for him. I was the one who set up his connection with Sable. And when he abandoned Reverie, he just walked out and left all those people. If there’s any danger or conflict, he runs as far in the other direction as he can.” She looked at Perry’s arms. “He never would have done this.”
Perry’s mind returned to that room, seeing the concentration—the care—with which Sable beat him. Obviously, Sable didn’t mind violence, or taking matters into his own hands.
He had fallen silent for a few seconds, remembering. Now he jolted back to the present and found Aria staring into his eyes, her temper filling with rage.
“I’m going to kill him for this,” she said.
“No. Stay away from him, Aria. Find a way to get us out of here. Use Hess. If he likes to run from problems, let’s give him somewhere to go. Another option. But promise me you’ll stay away from Sable.”
“Perry, no.”
“Aria, yes.” Didn’t she understand? He could endure anything—except losing her.
“What if Roar was right?” she said, her eyebrows drawing together. “What if Sable is a problem until we do something? Until we stop him?”
He wanted to tell her I will. He’d handle Sable. But he couldn’t say it. Not half-naked, blue and beaten. When he vowed to take Sable’s head off, he wanted to be on his feet.
She shot away from him, her feet landing on the floor with a quiet thump. Half a second later, the door opened.
The soldier, Loran, stood at the threshold. “Time’s up,” he said to Aria.
She moved immediately. Pausing at the door, she glanced back at Perry and put a hand to her heart.
Then she stepped out, and he numbed himself again. Shutting out the pain in his muscles. Ignoring the intense ache he always felt without her.
Loran lingered a second longer, sending Perry a cutting glance before he followed.
Perry stared at the door for long minutes after they’d gone, breathing in the residual scents in the small room. Noticing how strange the soldier’s temper was, dense and heavy. A brick wall of protection. Stranger still was the glimmer of warmth behind it.
Carefully, muscles quivering, Perry rolled onto his back, absolutely certain.
Loran was more than a soldier. He wondered if Aria knew.
25
ARIA
I thought you were going to talk to him,” Loran said in hushed tones as he escorted her back through the Komodo’s corridors.
“We did talk,” she said.
It had taken all her willpower to leave Perry in that room. Even now, she wanted to turn back, but something stopped her. A nagging feeling about the man walking three paces behind her.
“That looked like more than talking.”
Aria spun, facing him. “Why do you care?”
Loran stopped short. He frowned, opening his mouth to speak, then seemed to reconsider.
“Why did you take me to see him?” she pressed. “Why did you help me?”
He looked down his slender nose at her, his lips pressed tight, like he was trying to keep himself from speaking. She was desperate to understand why he’d taken a risk for her. Why he seemed so intent whenever he was looking at her. Why his dark gray eyes seemed so achingly familiar.
He had a deep musical baritone—a beautiful voice.
And he was old enough—
He was old enough—
She couldn’t even let herself think it.
His head whipped to the side. Aria heard Kirra’s voice, her sultry purr grating and unmistakable. Was she always roaming these halls?
Loran grabbed her arm and pulled her down the corridor. He stopped before a door and pressed at a keypad, yanking her inside as it opened.
Across a small room was another door with a rounded window made of two thick panes. Blue light came through it. Electric light that moved like a living, starving thing.
Aether.
“This way.” He stepped around her, opening the door, and suddenly she was stepping outside, onto a platform framed by a metal rail, her hair lifting in the wind.
It was night. She’d had no idea. That meant she’d been in the Komodo almost two days. A sea of metal surrounded her—the roofs of the Komodo’s individual units—and funnels of Aether twisted above. She saw the red flares. They had spread so much in just the time she’d been imprisoned. Everywhere she looked—east and west, north and south— the funnels lashed down to the earth, in some areas no more than a mile off. She felt the familiar prickling in the air and heard the shrieking sounds of the funnels—the sound of the Aether charging closer.
They were running out of time.
“We need to talk,” Loran said behind her.
Aria turned and faced him. By the shifting light of the sky, she studied his face. His expression was too soft for a soldier. Too pleading for a stranger.
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know where to start.”
Emotion prickled behind her eyes. Her heart was slamming. Pounding to get out of her ribs.
He didn’t know where to start, but she did.
“You’re an Aud,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You knew my mother.”
“Yes.”
She pulled in a breath and dove. “You’re my father.”
“Yes.” He looked at her, full on, the moment expanding between them. “I am.”
A cold wave swept over her.
She had guessed right.
Her back thumped against the metal railing as that single thought ran through her mind: she had guessed right. Finally, she’d found her father and didn’t have to wonder anymore. The curiosity she’d carried around her whole life could be put to rest, once and for all.
Her eyes filled, the world blurring, not for this man—who she knew nothing about—but for her mother, who had known him. Had Lumina loved him? Hated him? Aria’s mind suddenly filled with questions again, and here, standing before her, was the only person who could answer them.
She shook her head, confused. This wasn’t sinking in the right way. He was her father. She should feel something besides curiosity, shouldn’t she? Something more than missing her mother?
“How long have you known about me?” she heard herself ask.
“Nineteen years.”
“You knew when she was pregnant with me?”
“Yes.” He shifted his weight. “Aria, I don’t know how to do this. I’m not sure if I can think of myself as a father. I don’t even like children.”
“Did I ask you to be my father? Do I look like a child?”
“You look like her.”
That stole the breath from her lungs.
The sound of the storm rose up, filling their silence, and she thought about how much time she’d spent wondering about this man. Wanting to find him. He’d known about her the entire time and he’d done nothing about it.
Aria grabbed the railing behind her, fingers closing around the cool metal. She was spinning. Churning like the sky above.
“You were in Reverie. I know that’s how you met my mother.” Lumina had said that much. “Why did you leave her?”
His attention moved to the funnels flashing in the distance. His eyes narrowed, his black hair tossed by the wind.
Black hair like hers.
“This was a mistake,” he said.
“I was a mistake?”
“No,” he snapped. “Telling you was.” He glanced at the door. “I need to get you back.”
“Good. I want to go back.”
Loran winced, which made no sense. How could he be disappointed? He’d just said he regretted telling her.
“You’re confusing me,” she said.
“That’s not what I wanted. I wanted to explain what happened.”
“How can you ever explain?” Instantly she regretted her outburst. This was an opportunity. She should be trying to convince him to help them escape. To give her information.
She did nothing. Only stood there, breathing in and out. Nauseous and numb and shaking.
Loran turned to the door, his hand hovering over the access panel. “I have one question to ask,” he said, speaking with his back to her. “How is she?”
“Dead. My mother is dead.”
For a long moment, Loran didn’t move. Aria stared at his profile over his shoulder. She took in the way he stood there, shoulders shifting with ragged breaths, and was terrified by how much the news seemed to affect him.
“I’m sorry,” he said at last.
“You’ve been gone for nineteen years. Sorry isn’t enough.”
He pulled the door open and led her back into the Komodo, where there was no wind, and no sound, and no flash of Aether.
She moved without feeling. Without thought, until raised voices up ahead pulled her out of the fog.
Standing by the door to her chamber, two Guardians were engaged in an argument with someone inside.
“Detainees are under Hess’s jurisdiction, not Sable’s,” said one of the Guardians. “Their transport and relocation can only occur at his orders. She should be here.”
Aria couldn’t see beyond the Guardians’ backs, but she recognized Soren’s voice when he answered.
“Look, you can talk to me about protocols all day long. I’m just telling you what happened. She left half an hour ago with one of the Horns.”
She glanced at Loran. Her father. And was suddenly afraid for him. Sable had proved that no matter who crossed him, he punished ruthlessly. But Loran was stoic, all the emotion she’d just seen on his face moments ago gone.
“Where are you planning to take her?” he asked as they walked up.
As the Guardians whirled, Aria caught a glimpse of Roar and Soren watching worriedly from within the room.
Loran’s question surprised the Guardians, putting them on the defensive. They answered immediately, and in unison. “To the infirmary.”