Into the Still Blue (Under the Never Sky, #3)(34)

He paused, scratching the dark stubble on his chin. Aria didn’t know how he managed to sound so normal. Nothing about this story, or this place, or their situation felt normal.

“We never actually saw the horses. We hadn’t been at the traders’ camp for an hour when a band of dispersed showed up. A group like the Six. Hard men who’d cut you down just for looking at them the wrong way. We tried to steer clear of them, but it turned out we were all waiting to see the horse master.

“These men recognized Liv right off. They knew she was Vale’s sister, and they started taunting her and saying these lewd things . . . awful things. It wasn’t like Liv to keep quiet, or Perry for that matter. It especially wasn’t like me, but they outnumbered us three to one. Perry and Liv held their tongues, but after about ten seconds I’d heard enough. I felt like I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t do something.

“So I went after one of them, and pretty soon it was me against nine. Perry and Liv jumped in, of course, and for a little while there we were all in a nice knot until it got broken up. Liv and I came out of it with a few scratches, but Perry’s nose was gushing blood and he’d broken a finger or two. So we thought. They were too swollen to tell. He’d also sprained an ankle and suffered a gash on his forearm.”

The muscles in Roar’s neck rolled as he swallowed. “Seeing him roughed up like that was as bad as hearing those things about Liv. Worse, because it was my fault. He got hurt because of me.”

Finally, Aria saw the point of the story. Roar was scared. He feared Perry would be hurt because of him. Because he’d chosen to hunt Sable down instead of escape when they had the chance.

She wanted to tell him that Perry would be all right, but she couldn’t. She was too nervous. Too scared herself that Perry wasn’t all right.

Instead she said, “I feel like every story you tell me, he gets his nose broken.”

Roar raised an eyebrow. “You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

“I have.” Aria hugged her legs, ignoring the pain that pulsed in her right arm. She pictured Perry’s expression as he’d put his hand to his heart. “I should thank you. I like his nose the way it is.” In fact, she loved it.

“You can thank me if we get out of this.”

“When we get out of this.”

Roar frowned. “Right . . . when.”

The door hissed open. They shot to their feet.

Three of Sable’s men stepped inside. Two had the Horns symbol emblazoned in red on their black uniforms, but the third man, who carried himself like a leader, wore a uniform with silver horns. All three carried Dweller pistols in holsters at their belts.

“Turn around and put your hands behind your backs,” said one.

Aria didn’t budge. She couldn’t look away from the oldest soldier—the silver-horned one. She recognized him as the man who’d been sparring with Liv in the courtyard in Rim when they’d first arrived.

She shook away the memory. “Where are you taking us? Where are Peregrine and Cinder?”

The soldier’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, as though he was trying to recall where he’d seen her before. Then his gaze dropped to her injured arm, tucked to her side. His appraisal was intense and it unnerved her, making the blood pound in her ears. She sensed Roar’s tension beside her. He was holding his breath, and she wondered if he remembered the Horn soldier too.

“I have orders to take the two of you to Sable,” said the older soldier at last. “I’m authorized to use whatever force necessary to carry out that directive. Is that clear?”

“I can’t put my hands back,” Aria said. “I was shot a week ago.” Just imagining the pain she’d feel made her head spin.

“What do you want to do, Loran?” asked one of the other soldiers.

“I’ll watch her,” the senior soldier replied.

Loran. Aria recognized the name. That day in the courtyard, Liv had shouted it just after she’d soundly defeated him.

Roar’s hands were tied in front of him with plastic cuffs. Then Loran took her by the left arm and yanked her into the corridor.




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UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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18


PEREGRINE


The ceiling was different. No more pipes and wires.

It was the first thing Perry noticed when he opened his eyes. The second was the prickling sensation of the Aether, deep in the back of his nose.

Cinder.

Perry turned and saw him in the next bed. Cinder lay strapped down by thick plastic cuffs, his eyebrows knitted in concentration like he’d been willing Perry to wake up. He was dressed in a loose gray shirt and pants, and tubes fed liquid into his arms.

Perry wanted to shoot to his side, but bindings held him down as well; he couldn’t move an inch.

Cinder licked his cracked lips. “You came here just for me?”

Perry swallowed. His throat ached fiercely. “Yes.”

Cinder winced. “Sorry.”

“No . . . don’t be. I’m sorry I didn’t get you out of here.”

Every word took effort. The scent of the medicines hung heavily in the room. Perry tasted the chemicals on his tongue. He felt sluggish and slightly dizzy, but the urge to move, to get off the cot and stretch his muscles, overwhelmed him.