“Down that way is the storage area for medicines and supplies,” Molly said, gesturing to the left. “Everything that’s not food or animals. Those are kept in the caverns at the south end.” Her voice sounded a little too cheerful, like she was trying to compensate for Reef’s gruff manner. She swung the lamp gently as she walked, causing the shadows to tilt up and back along the cramped space. Aria found herself growing slightly light-headed and seasick. Or cavesick.

Where were they taking her?

She had never known darkness like this. Outside there was always Aether, or sunlight, or moonlight. In the Pod, within the protected walls of Reverie, lights always blazed. Always. This was new, this suffocating pool. She felt the pitch black fill her lungs with every breath. She was drinking the dark. Wading through it.

“Behind that curtain is the Battle Room,” Molly continued. “It’s a smaller cavern where we brought one of the trestle tables from the cookhouse. Perry meets with people in there to discuss matters of importance. The poor boy hardly ever leaves.”

Walking silently ahead of them, Reef shook his head.

“I worry about him, Reef,” Molly said, with plain irritation. “Someone has to.”

“And you think I don’t?”

Aria worried too—more than either of them—but she bit her lip, leaving them to argue.

“Well, you’re good at hiding it, if so,” Molly shot back. “All you seem to do is lecture him about what he’s doing wrong.”

Reef glanced over his shoulder. “Should I start slapping him on the back and telling him he’s wonderful? Will that do us any good?”

“You could try it once in a while, yes.”

Aria stopped listening to them. The hair on her arms lifted as her ears latched onto new sounds. Moans. Whimpers. Sickly sounds that swept toward her through the tunnel. A chorus of need.

She broke away from Molly and Reef, clutching her wounded arm to her side as she rushed ahead. Rounding a bend in the corridor, she arrived in a large, dim cavern, lit along the perimeter by lamps.

Spread across the floor on blankets lay dozens of people in varying states of consciousness. Their faces were ghastly white against their grays—the same clothes she’d worn her entire life until she’d been cast out of Reverie.

“They took ill immediately after you all arrived,” Molly said, catching up to her. “You went to Perry’s tent, and they came here, and that’s how it’s been. Perry said this same thing happened to you when you first came out of Reverie. It’s the shock to your immune systems. There were inoculations onboard the Hover you arrived in. A supply for thirty people—but there are forty-two here. We administered equal amounts to everyone, at Perry’s request. He said it’s what you’d have wanted.”