But through it, Perry could see what lay beyond the wall clearly: ocean, sitting beneath sunlight. That golden color that he’d glimpsed through the sheets of Aether was even warmer. And he saw sky. Endless, clear blue sky.

“What’s he waiting for? That’s not enough!” Sable yelled.

There was no point in talking to Cinder now. Perry had seen him like this. He was in another place. Lost to his surroundings.

“Peregrine!” Sable yelled.

As the seconds passed, relief moved through Perry. Maybe they wouldn’t make the crossing, but Cinder would live.

Horror followed quickly. What would they do now? Forge ahead through the barrier, and hope they made it through? The alternative, turning back to the cave, sounded worse. They couldn’t go back.

Cinder turned, fixing a blazing stare on him, and Perry understood.

What Cinder had just done was only the beginning. A test, to see what this would cost him. Looking into his eyes, Perry knew the answer.

Cinder turned back to the Aether.

Perry saw white, and then he saw nothing.

43. Aria

43

ARIA

Do you see them?” Brooke said. “They’re right there.”

Aria nodded. Perry and Cinder’s Dragonwing was just a small point in front of the barrier of Aether, but she saw it.

An explosion of light blinded her.

Shouts erupted as the Hover dipped sharply. Aria flew into the person behind her. Blinking, fighting for her vision, she righted herself and lunged back to the window.

The barrier now had a rift. A wide seam, like parted curtains. Through the barrier, the glittering ocean stretched out, as promising as anything she’d ever seen. Aria wanted to stare at it forever, but she tore her eyes away and searched for the Dragonwing.

“Where did they go?” she asked. Perry’s Hover had disappeared.

“I’m looking,” Brooke said.

Roar was there too, searching. Grabbing her arm and steadying her when their Hover surged forward. Cursing softly when Sable’s voice came through the speakers again, announcing that they were going ahead with the crossing.

“Where are they?” Aria asked, her panic rising.

Brooke’s face paled, her quiet concentration changing suddenly to wide-eyed shock. “Water,” she said.

Aria’s gaze dropped to the ocean below—where Perry’s Hover tossed in ferocious white-capped waves.

44. Peregrine

44

PEREGRINE

When Perry opened his eyes, he was on his back, the concave ceiling of the cockpit above him. He couldn’t move, and it took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t paralyzed, only pinned in the small space between the wall and the back of the pilot seat.

His right shoulder throbbed, the pain as intense as when he’d dislocated it weeks ago—and his left shin stung sharply. There were other aches, less intense. Good signs. Pain meant he was still alive.