Into the Still Blue (Under the Never Sky, #3)(75)

..................................................................





42


PEREGRINE


The Dragonwing surged forward again, pushing Perry’s back against the seat and making Cinder gasp.

They passed the other Hovers in the fleet, one after another, and then there was no one left. Nothing in front of them but Aether in every direction.

“You’ll need to tell us how close you want to be,” Sable said.

Perry looked at Cinder, who bugged his eyes and shrugged.

It was such an honest reaction that Perry found himself smiling. None of them had been in this situation before; how close they should be was anyone’s guess.

Strangely, Perry felt better, his focus returning by the second. He’d said what he’d needed to say to the Tides. Now it was time for action—always where he felt surest.

The craft gave a sudden lurch that pushed him against his restraints, and then it began to shudder. The instrument panel came alive, flashing with red warning messages, and the blare of an alarm filled the cockpit with an urgent pulse.

Cinder blurted, “That’s good! We’re close enough!”

The craft slowed and then bobbed unsteadily in place. Here the ocean was even rougher, rising in huge swells. Perry estimated a distance of one hundred and fifty yards between them and the barrier. He’d have liked to fire an arrow at it. A dozen arrows. He’d have liked to be the one to pierce it and tear it down.

“Time to do what you’ve promised us, Cinder,” Sable said. “Do this, and we’ll get both of you home. Willow is waiting for you.”

Cinder eyes had glazed over. Silent tears spilled over, rolling down his cheeks.

Perry tugged his seat restraints off and stood, knowing this was the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. He sank into his legs to keep his balance in the pitching craft and unbuckled Cinder’s restraints.

“I’m right here,” he said, holding his hand down. “It’s all right. I’m going to help you.” Cinder’s arm shook violently as Perry helped him to his feet.

They moved into the small hold behind the cockpit together, Perry half carrying him.

The bay doors opened. Wind and spray swept inside in a violent rush. The air was cool and tasted of salt, as familiar to Perry as anything, except for the sting it carried, like bites all along his skin and over his eyes.

The wall of Aether churned and roiled ahead of him; Sable’s pilots had turned the craft parallel to it. For long moments he stared in awe, unable to look away, until he caught movement from the corner of his eyes.

Cinder was bent into a corner of the craft, his back convulsing as he retched.

“What’s happening?” Sable’s voice moved through the speakers. “I can’t see what’s happening.”

“We need a minute,” Perry snapped.

“We don’t have a minute! Get Aria up here right now,” Sable ordered.

“No! Just hold on!”

Cinder recovered and climbed to his feet. “Sorry . . . it’s so bumpy.”

Perry let out his breath, realizing Cinder was only seasick, not sick with fear. “That’s all right. I’m surprised I haven’t done it myself.”

Cinder smiled weakly. “Thanks,” he said. “For being here with me.”

Perry nodded, accepting his thanks. “Do you want me to stand next to you?”

Cinder shook his head. “I can do it.”

He moved to the bay doors, bracing a hand against the opening. Then he closed his eyes, the fear easing from his face. Webs of Aether spread beneath his skin, moving up his neck to his jaw, then higher over his scalp.

He looked relaxed. The world raged around him, but it didn’t feel that way to Perry. Standing behind him, watching him, Perry felt like the world was raging for Cinder.

Seconds passed. Perry began to wonder if Cinder had changed his mind.

“Peregrine,” came Sable’s voice, “make him—”

A blast of air pushed Perry backward. He slammed against the rear wall of the Hover, staggered.

Cinder hadn’t moved. He stayed planted by the doors.

Beyond him, in the distance, a gap formed in the barrier of Aether—a hollowed area that the currents flowed around, like river water past a rock.

The opening seemed almost insignificant in size. Twenty or thirty feet. Not big enough to fit even the smaller Dragonwings, to say nothing of the larger Hovers.

But through it, Perry could see what lay beyond the wall clearly: ocean, sitting beneath sunlight. That golden color that he’d glimpsed through the sheets of Aether was even warmer. And he saw sky. Endless, clear blue sky.

“What’s he waiting for? That’s not enough!” Sable yelled.

There was no point in talking to Cinder now. Perry had seen him like this. He was in another place. Lost to his surroundings.

“Peregrine!” Sable yelled.

As the seconds passed, relief moved through Perry. Maybe they wouldn’t make the crossing, but Cinder would live.

Horror followed quickly. What would they do now? Forge ahead through the barrier, and hope they made it through? The alternative, turning back to the cave, sounded worse. They couldn’t go back.

Cinder turned, fixing a blazing stare on him, and Perry understood.

What Cinder had just done was only the beginning. A test, to see what this would cost him. Looking into his eyes, Perry knew the answer.