Jupiter broke rhythm, pausing to rub his eye as though looking for the Smarteye that was no longer there. “You think Rune is all right? Caleb and the rest of everyone?”

She nodded, thinking of Molly. “They’re in good hands.”

Aria heard herself and winced. Was every stupid expression about stupid hands?

“You know, Beethoven?” Jupiter said. “He was deaf—mostly deaf or something—and he had to hear through percussion and conductivity and stuff. I just keep thinking about him, you know? If he was able to do that, then I should be able to figure this out.”

“Figure what out?”

“Not having the Realms anymore. I keep trying to fraction. I keep thinking my Smarteye is malfunctioning, and it’s kind of like I’ve gone deaf. Like there’s this huge missing piece. Then I remember this is all we have. Real is all that’s left.”

“It’ll get easier.”

Jupiter stopped drumming. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to complain or sound ungrateful or anything.”

“Ungrateful?”

“You saved my life.”

“You didn’t sound ungrateful. And you don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to act a certain way.”

Anxiety bled through her words. She’d meant to reassure him, but it sounded like she was scolding him. She looked down, hiding her grimace, and caught movement at the edge of her vision.

The fingers of her injured hand were twitching. She’d had no idea.

She tried to make a fist, hoping this meant she was healing. Instead of her fingers curling, they stopped moving. Her hand wasn’t even part of her.

Tears blurred her vision, and she didn’t think.

She jumped up and ran down the ramp, plunging into the night.

10. Peregrine

10

PEREGRINE

Perry had almost reached the Belswan when he spotted Aria running toward him.

In an instant he had his bow off his shoulder, an arrow nocked and ready, as he scanned the woods for an attack. For fire. Dwellers. Anything.

“What is it?” he asked as she ran up.

“I don’t know,” she said, breathless, her pupils dilated, her temper frantic. She held her arm against her stomach. “Nothing.”

Her gaze darted past the trees. Over the rocky ground. Everywhere except at him.

Perry pulled his bow back over his shoulder and slipped the arrow back into his quiver. He let out his breath, his fear seeping out of him. “What’s going on?”

She shook her head. “I said nothing. Just forget it.”

“You’re not telling me the truth.”

Her eyes snapped up. “Maybe not, Perry, but what about you? You won’t talk about Liv. You won’t talk about Roar or about us. You say what happened in the past doesn’t matter, but it does to me. By not talking, you’re keeping yourself from me. How is that any worse than lying?”

He nodded, finally understanding. He could fix this. They could.