Her ears still hadn’t recovered fully from the explosion, but she picked up snatches of conversation from the cockpit. An Aether storm had settled between the Komodo and the coast, blocking their way to the cave. The pilot—a Dweller who’d been in the craft with Cinder—described the path as impossible and unnavigable and suicide.

Her stomach clenched as she listened to Roar and Perry discuss alternate routes, hoping they’d settle on one worth trying. Finally free of the Komodo, she wanted desperately to get home—even if home meant a dismal cave.

She didn’t hear Cinder, but he was in the cockpit too. They’d all given Soren space—as much as was possible in the cramped Dragonwing.

Soren sat back, wiping his eyes. “He was terrible. He did awful things. You know what he’s really like. Was really like. Why do I even care?”

Crying had left his face red and swollen. He looked broken, his heart exposed. Nothing like the cocky boy she knew. “Because he was your father, Soren.”

“I’m the one who pushed him away. I stayed in Reverie when he wanted me to leave. He never gave up on me. I’m the one who gave up on him.”

“You didn’t give up on him. He knew that.”

“How can you be sure? How do you know?” Soren didn’t wait for her reply. He pressed his fists to his face and began to rock again.

Aria glanced up. Roar and Perry stood in the narrow threshold. Shoulders together. Minds together. Both looking so aware of what Soren was feeling.

Behind them, through the windshield, she saw the sky—Aether blue and now Aether red—and she wondered how she could feel lucky with Soren breaking apart before her eyes and after what she’d just seen. But she did.

Perry and Roar. Cinder and Soren.

They had all made it out alive.

By the time they found a clear route to the coast, Soren had exhausted himself and fallen asleep. Aria sat back against the cool metal wall of the Dragonwing. Dawn had broken, the cockpit brightening by the minute, but the light didn’t reach the small hold she shared with Soren. Her left arm ached from when she’d hit Kirra, but she noticed less pain in her right. She tested the movement in her hand and found she could almost close her fingers into a fist now. Stretching out her tired legs, she was struck by a pang of longing for her mother, who could have told her for certain whether the wound was healing properly.

It felt familiar missing Lumina’s calm advice and assurances. But the immediate turn Aria’s thoughts took to Loran was new.

It hit her then: she’d never see him again.