The Dweller’s scream came garbled through his helmet. Perry rolled to his feet. The Dweller dragged himself out of the water and curled around his hand. Perry slammed his boot down on the Dweller’s helmet. It cracked, putting out a burst of air that Perry recognized, noxious and thin. One more kick and the man sagged against the wet sand.

Perry wrenched the eyepiece out of the pocket in the Dweller’s suit. Then he lumbered up the sandbank, snatching up his bow and quiver.

“Talon!”

He didn’t see his nephew anywhere, only the Hover floating in place. The hatch sealed shut. With a blast of sand, it shot into the distance.

He ran home in a mindless haze, his arm pressed against the spearing pain in his side. He stopped at the top of a ridge. From this far, the compound looked like a circle of stones in the valley below. A sky teeming with Aether flows and dark clouds made night of the late afternoon. Perry tilted his head, searching for scents on the storm winds. No trace of Dwellers that he could tell.

He smelled the sharp tang of bile. Wylan jogged up, a hand pressed to the knot the Dwellers had given him at his hairline. Wylan had vomited twice on the way back. The reek still clung to him.

“Hate to be you right now,” Wylan said. He had a dark, feral look in his eyes. “I heard those Moles. They came after you. Vale’s going to tear you in half.”

“He’ll need me to get Talon back,” Perry said.

Wylan leaned over and spat. Then he laughed. “Peregrine, you’re the last person Vale needs.”

Perry found everyone in the clearing, speaking in cheerful tones that mixed with festive music. Torches around the perimeter added a golden glow to the gathering, setting it apart from the cool light surrounding the compound. A few couples danced. Children wove through the crowd, hiding behind women’s skirts and laughing. It was a strange scene, as if they didn’t see the Aether roiling above them. Didn’t care that the sky might rain fire at any moment.

Vale sat on one of the crates by the cookhouse, talking to Bear at his side. He held a bottle in his hand and looked relaxed. Content to watch the celebration.

“Perry!” Brooke called, then she grabbed the arm of the person next to her. Her alarm rippled through the rest of the crowd, bringing the music to a halt. Now Perry heard the frightened brays and bleats of the stabled animals.

Vale stared at Perry, the smile easing off his face. He hopped off the crate and came forward, searching the crowd behind Perry. “Where’s Talon? Where’s Talon, Perry?”

Perry swayed. He could see the bronze flecks in Vale’s green eyes. “The Dwellers took him. I couldn’t stop them.”