Brooke: An Under the Never Sky Story

Aria had some experience handling Soren, and was prepared. She turned from Perry to Marron. “Would drawings help?” she asked, fighting Soren’s sarcasm with directness.

Marron leaned forward. “Oh yes. They’d help immensely. Any specifications you can provide with respect to the Hovers’ speed, range, cargo capacity, weaponry. Onboard supplies . . . Truly, Soren, anything would be very useful. We’d know which craft we need. We could prepare better. Yes, drawings and any other information you can recall. Thank you.”

Perry turned to Gren. “Bring paper, a ruler, pens.”

Soren looked from Marron to Perry to Aria, his mouth gaping. “I’m not drawing anything. I was joking.”

“You think our situation is a joke?” she said.

“What? No. But I’m not helping these Savag—these people.”

“They’ve been taking care of you for days. Do you think you’d be alive if weren’t for these people?”

Soren looked around the table like he wanted to argue, but said nothing.

“You’re the only one who knows the Hovers,” Aria continued. “You’re the expert. You should also tell us everything you know about your father’s plans with Sable. Every one of us needs to know as much as possible.”

Soren scowled. “You’re kidding me.”

“Didn’t we just agree this wasn’t a laughing matter?”

“Why should I trust them?” Soren asked, as if there were no Outsiders there.

“How about because you don’t have a choice?”

Soren’s furious gaze went to Perry, who was actually watching her, his lips pressed together like he was fighting a smile.

“Fine,” Soren said. “I’ll tell you what I know. I intercepted one of the comms between my father and Sable before Reverie . . . fell.”

Reverie hadn’t just fallen. It had been deserted. Thousands of people had been abandoned and left to die—by Soren’s father, Hess. Aria understood why Soren might not want to bring attention to that fact.

“Sable and a few of his top people have the coordinates to the Still Blue memorized,” he continued. “But there’s more to it than just knowing where it is. There’s a barrier of Aether at sea somewhere, and the only way to the Still Blue is by breaching it. Sable said he’d found a way through it, though.”

The chamber fell silent. They all knew that way was Cinder.

Perry rubbed his jaw, the first trace of anger appearing on his face. Across the back of his hand, Aria saw the scars Cinder had given him, pale and roped.

“You’re sure Cinder’s there?” he said, turning to Roar. “You saw him?”

“I’m sure,” said Roar.

Seconds passed.

“Do you have nothing more to add, Roar?” Perry asked.

“You want more?” Roar drew himself up. “Here’s more: Cinder was with the girl named Kirra, who was here at the compound, according to Twig. I saw her take him into the Komodo thing. You know who else is there? Sable. The man who killed your sister. The ships we need are also there, since I’m assuming the one outside isn’t going to carry us all to the Blue. It looks to me like they have everything and we have nothing. There it is, Perry. Now you know the situation. What do you recommend we do? Stay in this miserable pit and talk some more?”

Reef slammed his hand on the table. “Enough!” he bellowed, pushing up from his chair. “You cannot speak to him that way. I won’t allow it.”

“It’s grief,” Marron said softly.

“I don’t care what it is. It doesn’t excuse his behavior.”

“Speaking of excuses,” Roar said, “you’ve been looking for a way to come after me for a while now, Reef.” He stood and spread his hands. “Looks like you’ve got it.”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Soren said, shaking his head. “You people are animals. I feel like a zookeeper.”

“Shut up, Soren.” Aria rose to her feet and took Roar’s arm. “Please, Roar. Sit down.”

He jerked away. Aria flinched as pain ripped through her, and she pulled in a hissing breath. She’d reached for Roar with her good arm, but his sharp movement had given her a jolt, igniting a hot flare in her wounded bicep.

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