Perry tugged his seat restraints off and stood, knowing this was the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. He sank into his legs to keep his balance in the pitching craft and unbuckled Cinder’s restraints.

“I’m right here,” he said, holding his hand down. “It’s all right. I’m going to help you.” Cinder’s arm shook violently as Perry helped him to his feet.

They moved into the small hold behind the cockpit together, Perry half carrying him.

The bay doors opened. Wind and spray swept inside in a violent rush. The air was cool and tasted of salt, as familiar to Perry as anything, except for the sting it carried, like bites all along his skin and over his eyes.

The wall of Aether churned and roiled ahead of him; Sable’s pilots had turned the craft parallel to it. For long moments he stared in awe, unable to look away, until he caught movement from the corner of his eyes.

Cinder was bent into a corner of the craft, his back convulsing as he retched.

“What’s happening?” Sable’s voice moved through the speakers. “I can’t see what’s happening.”

“We need a minute,” Perry snapped.

“We don’t have a minute! Get Aria up here right now,” Sable ordered.

“No! Just hold on!”

Cinder recovered and climbed to his feet. “Sorry . . . it’s so bumpy.”

Perry let out his breath, realizing Cinder was only seasick, not sick with fear. “That’s all right. I’m surprised I haven’t done it myself.”

Cinder smiled weakly. “Thanks,” he said. “For being here with me.”

Perry nodded, accepting his thanks. “Do you want me to stand next to you?”

Cinder shook his head. “I can do it.”

He moved to the bay doors, bracing a hand against the opening. Then he closed his eyes, the fear easing from his face. Webs of Aether spread beneath his skin, moving up his neck to his jaw, then higher over his scalp.

He looked relaxed. The world raged around him, but it didn’t feel that way to Perry. Standing behind him, watching him, Perry felt like the world was raging for Cinder.

Seconds passed. Perry began to wonder if Cinder had changed his mind.

“Peregrine,” came Sable’s voice, “make him—”

A blast of air pushed Perry backward. He slammed against the rear wall of the Hover, staggered.

Cinder hadn’t moved. He stayed planted by the doors.

Beyond him, in the distance, a gap formed in the barrier of Aether—a hollowed area that the currents flowed around, like river water past a rock.

The opening seemed almost insignificant in size. Twenty or thirty feet. Not big enough to fit even the smaller Dragonwings, to say nothing of the larger Hovers.