In a quiet lurch, the Realm changed. Now they stood in a thatch-roofed hut with open sides, set up high like it was on stilts. A golden savannah rolled out to the horizon, the grass undulating in waves under a warm breeze.

Hess had no idea. He had meant it as an insult. A jab at the primitive man he believed Sable to be. But for a long moment all Aria could do—all Sable could do—was stare in wonder at the sun-doused scenery. At an open, still sky. At earth that was gently baked, not cruelly burned by Aether.

Sable turned his focus back to Hess. “I do prefer it, thank you. What have you learned?”

Hess sighed. “My engineers assure me that the craft will travel over any kind of terrain. They have shields, but their effectiveness is limited. Any intense concentration of Aether will overpower them.”

Sable nodded. “I have a solution for that. What’s the total, Hess?”

“Eight hundred people. And that will be pushing their capacity.”

“That’s not enough,” Sable said.

“We were never intended to leave Reverie,” Hess said, his words clipped with frustration. “We’re not prepared for an exodus of this magnitude. Are you?”

Sable smiled. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I were.”

Hess ignored the jab. “We split the number evenly or the deal is off.”

“Yes. Fine,” Sable said impatiently. “We’ve been through the terms.”

In the real, Roar returned to the balcony. “We have to go,” he whispered, tugging on her arm. Aria shook her head. She couldn’t stop listening now.

“How soon can you be ready?” Sable asked Hess.

“A week to fuel and load the craft, and to organize the … the survivors. The Chosen.”

Sable nodded as he stared thoughtfully across the grassy plain. “Eight hundred people,” he said to himself. Then he faced Hess. “What will you do with the rest of your citizens?”

The color drained from Hess’s face. “What can I do with them? They’ll be told to wait for the second deployment.”

Sable’s lips lifted into a smile. “You know there won’t be a second deployment. It’s a single crossing.”

“Yes, I know that,” Hess said tightly. “But they won’t.”

Aria’s knees softened, her shoulder bumping against Liv’s. Hess and Sable were going to pick and choose who went. Who lived and who died. She couldn’t catch her breath, and she felt nauseous. Sickened by how coldly they discussed leaving people behind.

Roar’s grasp on her arm tightened. “Aria, you have to stop!”

Sounds erupted in the hall. She tensed, racing through the commands to shut off the Eye.

“In here!” someone yelled.

Roar drew his knife. Aria heard the thud of a shoulder driving open the door, and then the crash of wood against stone. In the darkness of Liv’s room, she saw a rush of movement. A black tide crashing toward them.