“Where is he?” she asked plainly, too anxious for caution.

“At his house. Bear said he knocked his shoulder out of joint. He’s fine.” Roar’s dark eyes flicked to her. “But it was close.”

Aria’s stomach clenched. Her ears latched onto Perry’s name drifting across the tables in a wave of whispers. She sifted through the din and grabbed onto Wylan’s spiteful tone, her eyes finding him again. A group of people had gathered around him.

“… he jumped in like an idiot. Reef had to fish him out. Almost didn’t get to him in time, either.”

“I heard he saved Old Will,” someone else said.

Wylan’s voice again. “Old Will wouldn’t have drowned! He knows the sea better than any of us. I was gonna get him on the line on my next cast. Right now I’d feel better if Flea were wearing that damned chain.”

Aria touched Roar’s arm. Do you hear Wylan? He’s horrible.

Roar nodded. “He’s all bluster. You’re the only one who’s actually listening to him, trust me.”

Aria wasn’t sure about that. She wove her hands together, her leg bouncing beneath the table. Both the hearths blazed, warming the hall. It smelled of damp wool and mud, and the sweat of too many bodies. People had brought treasured belongings from their homes. She saw a doll. A quilt. Baskets packed with smaller items. An image appeared in her mind of the falcon carvings on the sill in Perry’s house. Then of Perry, there alone. She should be with him.

Aether funnels struck outside, their distant shrieks carrying to her ears. Faint tremors vibrated up through the soles of her boots. She wondered if Cinder was out in the storm, but she knew that—of anyone—he’d be safe under the Aether.

“Do we just sit here?” she asked.

Roar ran a hand over his wet hair, making it spike. He nodded. “A storm this close, this is the safest place to be.”

At Marron’s, the storms hadn’t been nearly as frightening. Everyone in the compound retreated deep underground to the old mining caves of Delphi. There Marron had provisions at the ready. Even diversions, like music and games.

Another deep rumble thrummed through the floorboards. Aria looked up as dust shook loose from the rafters, sprinkling the table in front of her. In the cooking area, pots rattled softly. Nearby, Willow hugged Flea, her eyes shut tight. Aria hardly heard anyone talking now.

She reached for Roar again. You need to do something. They’re petrified.

Roar lifted an eyebrow. “I do?”

Yes, you. Perry’s not here, and I can’t. I’m a Mole, remember? No, wait. I’m a Mole tramp.