It was cold and damp in the dim cavern, but sweat ran down his back and along his ribs, dripping from him. A brackish smell flowed into his nose, and a hollow silence roared in his ears. His chest was tight—as tight as it’d been under the churning water the day of the Aether storm. No matter how many times he’d been there, it was always this way at first.
Finally he found his breath, and looked around.
Daylight streamed in behind him, enough for him to see the vastness of the space—of the wide, open belly of the cave. His gaze moved to a stalagmite in the distance: a formation shaped like a jellyfish, with dripping, melting tendrils. From where he stood, it looked small and only fifty yards off. It was actually many times his height and a hundred yards away. He knew, because he’d shot arrows at it from there. He and Brooke had. A year ago, he’d stood in the same spot with her while Roar whooped loudly, laughing at the way the sound echoed, and Liv wandered off, exploring the deeper reaches of the cave.
Reef and Cinder stood in silence beside him, eyes wide and scanning, glinting in the low light. He wondered if they could see what he saw.
Perry cleared his throat. It was time for him to explain. To justify something he hated and didn’t want to admit.
“We need a place to go if we lose the compound. I won’t wander the borderlands with the tribe, searching for food, for shelter from the Aether. This is big enough to fit us all.... There are tunnels that lead to other caverns. And it’s defensible. It won’t burn. We can fish from the cove, and there’s a freshwater source inside.”
Every word that came out of him felt like an effort. He didn’t want to say any of this. He didn’t want to bring his people underground, to this dark place. To live like the ghostlike creatures from the deep sea.
Reef looked at him for a long moment. “You think it will come to this.”
Perry nodded. “You know the borderlands better than I do. You think I want to take River and Willow out there?”
He pictured it. Three hundred people under an open, roiling sky, surrounded by fires and bands of dispersed. He imagined the Croven—cannibals in black capes and crow masks—surrounding them like they were a herd and picking them off one by one. He wouldn’t let it happen.
Cinder shifted his weight, watching them silently.
“We have to be prepared for the worst,” Perry continued, his voice echoing in the cavern. He wondered how it would be with hundreds of voices in there.
Reef shook his head. “I don’t see how you’re going to do this. It’s … a cave.”
“I’ll find a way.”
“This isn’t a solution, Perry.”
“I know.” It was a last resort. Coming there would be like standing on the prow of a ship as it sank. It wasn’t the answer. The answer would have to come with Roar and Aria. But this would buy time as the waters rose.
“I wore a chain once,” Reef said, after a long moment. “Much like yours.”
Surprise moved through Perry. Reef had been a Blood Lord? He had never said anything, but Perry should’ve seen it. Reef was so determined to teach him, to keep him from failing.
“It was years ago. A different time than this. But I know something of what you’re facing. I’m behind you, Peregrine. I would be, even without having sworn an oath to you. But the tribe will resist this.”
Perry knew that too. It was the reason he’d brought Cinder. “Give us a few minutes,” he told Reef.
Reef nodded. “I’ll be right outside.”
“Did I do something wrong?” Cinder asked when Reef had left them.
“No. You didn’t.”
Cinder’s scowl faded. “Oh.”
“I know you don’t want to talk about yourself,” Perry said. “I understand that. Pretty well, actually. And I wouldn’t ask you unless I had to. But I do have to.” He shifted his weight, wishing he didn’t have to press. “Cinder, I need to know what you can do with the Aether. Can you tell me what to expect? Can you keep it away? I have to know if there’s any alternative—any way at all to avoid this.”
Cinder was still for a moment. Then he took his cap off and slipped it through his belt. He walked deeper into the cave and turned, facing Perry. The veins at his neck took on the glow of the Aether, which seeped up over his face like water snaking through a dry river. His hands came alive. His eyes became bright blue points in the darkness.
Aether burned in the back of Perry’s nose, and his heart raced. Then, as gradually as it had brightened, the glow in Cinder’s veins faded away, the sting receding, leaving just a boy, standing there again.
Cinder pulled on his cap back, tugging it down and brushing wisps of straw-colored hair away from his eyes. Then he went still and watched Perry for a few moments, his gaze direct and open, before he spoke at last.
“It’s harder to reach it in here,” he said. “I can’t call it as easily as when I’m outside, right under it.”
Perry moved closer to him, eager to learn what he’d wondered for months. “What does it feel like?”
“Most of the time, like right now, I feel hollow and tired. But when I call it, I feel strong and light. I feel like fire. Like I’m part of everything.” He scratched his chin. “I can only hold on to it a little while before I have to push it. That’s all I can do is just bring it to me, and then push it away. I’m not very good, though. Where I’m from—Rhapsody—there were kids who were better at it than me.”
Perry’s heart thudded. Rhapsody was a Pod hundreds of miles away, past Reverie. “You’re a Dweller.”
Cinder shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t remember much from before I broke out of there. But I guess … I guess I could be. When I met you in the woods and you were with Aria? It didn’t seem like you hated her. That’s why I followed you. I thought maybe you’d be all right with me, too.”
“You thought right,” Perry said.
“Yeah.” Cinder smiled, a flash in the dimness that faded quickly.
A hundred questions buzzed Perry’s mind about how Cinder had escaped Rhapsody. About the other kids, who were like him. But he knew to tread lightly. He knew to let Cinder come to him.
“If I could help you with the Aether, I would,” Cinder said, the words sudden and blunt. “But I can’t … I just can’t.”
“Because it makes you weak afterward?” Perry asked, remembering the way Cinder had suffered after their encounter with the Croven. By calling the Aether, Cinder had destroyed the band of cannibals. He’d saved Perry’s life, and Aria and Roar’s too, but the act had left him cold as ice and drained to the point of unconsciousness.
Cinder looked past him, like he was worried Reef would be there.
“It’s all right,” Perry said. He could trust Reef with secrets—Cinder’s scent probably already had Reef suspicious—but Perry knew Cinder would only be at ease with him. “Reef’s outside, and he’ll stay there. It’s just us.”
Reassured, Cinder nodded and replied, “Every time, I feel worse afterward. It’s like the Aether takes part of me away with it. I feel like I can barely breathe, it hurts so much. One day it’ll take everything. I know it will.” He brushed away a tear from his cheek with an angry swipe. “It’s all I have,” he said. “It’s the only thing I can do, and I’m scared of it.”
Perry exhaled slowly, absorbing the information. Every time Cinder used his power, he gambled with his life. Perry couldn’t ask that of him. It was one thing to take chances with his own life. But he couldn’t put an innocent boy in that position. Not ever.
“You’re well if you don’t use it?” he asked.
Cinder nodded, his eyes downcast.
“Then don’t. Don’t call the Aether. Not for any reason.”
Cinder peered up. “Does that mean you’re not streaked at me?”
“Because you can’t save the Tides for me?” Perry shook his head. “No. Not at all, Cinder. But you’re wrong about something. The Aether isn’t the only thing you have. You’re part of this tribe now, no different from anyone else. And you’ve got me. All right?”
“All right,” Cinder said, fighting off a smile. “Thanks.”