“What do you want to do?” he asked.

“Let’s get closer.” They moved quietly across the dry grass, stopping when they reached a rocky perch. Now Aria saw a large square opening in Bliss, a wide-open cavity on the smooth walls of the Pod. The Guardians who came and went wore sterile suits. She knew what that meant. The closed environment was compromised. She’d expected this, but numbness seeped through her limbs.

Perry cursed softly beside her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“There’s a black cart down there,” he said, his expression pained. “Some sort of truck, close to the Pod.” She saw it. It was in miniature, but she saw it. “There are people—bodies on board.”

Her eyes blurred. “Can you see any of their faces?”

“No.” Perry wrapped his arms around her. “Come here,” he whispered. “She could be anywhere. Don’t give up now.”

They sat on the rocks side by side as she forced herself to think. She couldn’t walk out of the darkness and announce herself a Dweller. She needed to come up with a plan. She took her Smarteye from her satchel. It hadn’t helped her reach Lumina at Marron’s, but it would be useful now.

Aria stared at the small black point in the distance. She’d waited enough. She knew what she needed to do. “I have to get down there.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No. You can’t. They’d kill you if they saw you.”

He groaned like the words hurt him physically.

“The Tides need you to be Blood Lord, Perry. I have to go alone. And I need your help up here.”

She told him her idea, describing the disguise she hoped to find and the way she would slip back in. He listened, his jaw rigid, but he agreed to do his part. Aria stood and handed him Talon’s dagger.

“No,” he said. “You might need it.”

She looked at the knife, her throat tight with emotion. No roses or rings with him, but a knife with feathers carved into the handle. A knife that was part of him. She couldn’t accept it.

“This won’t help me down there,” she said. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She just wanted to get back in.

Perry slipped the knife into his boot, but he wouldn’t look at her when he straightened. He crossed his arms and uncrossed them, and then brushed the back of his hand across his eyes.

“Perry . . . ,” she began. What could she say? How could she possibly describe what she felt for him? He knew. He had to know. She hugged him, pressing her eyes closed as she listened to the solid beat of his heart. His arms tightened as she drew away.