She saw his handsome face in snatches between moments of darkness, and knew he was remembering that horrible night. Liv thudding onto the stones of the balcony. Their plummet into the Snake River. “You’re welcome.”

“Tough fall we had.”

“It was,” Aria said. “But we landed in one piece.”

Roar stared at her intensely. His eyes welled with tears, and he looked like he was concentrating. Like he was trying to determine if he actually was in one piece.

She put a hand on his arm. “We did . . . right?”

Roar blinked. He gave a slight nod. “There are moments I think so.”

Aria squeezed his arm, smiling. The possibility of wholeness was all she wanted for him.

Maybe his grief was like her wounded arm. Slowly healing. Gradually becoming less consuming as life delivered other worries and other joys. Other sources of pain and happiness. She wanted that for him. More life. More happiness.

Roar’s mouth pulled into a smile—a beautiful smile she hadn’t seen in weeks.

“Beautiful, huh?”

She drew her hand away, giving him a small push on the shoulder. “Don’t act surprised.”

“I’m not. Always nice to be reminded, though.”

“I give up,” Soren said, shaking his head. “Congratulations. You two are the first code I can’t break.”

“Just trying to see some good in the bad,” Roar said.

“You want good news?” Soren said. “I’ve got some for you. If the Komodo has a complete breakdown because of this Aether storm and it collapses and cracks open and we don’t die first, we might actually have a chance of escaping.”

Roar narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “I’d take those odds.”

Aria swept her hair forward, twisting it around her finger. “So would I.” She wanted the lights to hold steady. She wanted a shower. Coffee. A thick, soft blanket. And Perry, most of all. “If the Komodo has a complete breakdown, then I might too. Wait . . . I already did that.” She smiled at Roar. “My breakdown is out of the way.”

He lifted his eyebrows, smiling back. “You’re right. That is good news.”

A sudden bone-jarring jolt sent her flying. Her back smacked into the wall, she cried out in surprise, and Roar’s hand clamped down on her wrist as blackness flooded the chamber.

28. Peregrine

28

PEREGRINE

As the Komodo shuddered to a halt, Perry sat up on the cot and counted off the seconds in total darkness.

Five.

Ten.

Fifteen.

That was enough sitting around for him.

He rose from the cot, his bare feet settling silently on the cold floor. His eyes needed little light in order to see, but there was none—not a single glowing point. Just an impossible blackness, as thick and heavy as iron.

He found the wall and followed it, feeling his way to the door. He stopped and listened. Muffled sounds came from outside—two men, arguing.