Into the Still Blue

“In the Komodo you said you wanted us to have some time alone,” she said.



He snatched his belt off the trunk and took her hand, darting out of the tent before she’d finished speaking.



35



ARIA



Perry, I can’t see where I’m going.”



Aria jogged to keep up with him as he pulled her through the cave. He was barefoot, buckling his belt with one hand and holding on to her with the other, but she was still lagging behind. She didn’t have his eyes, and at this late hour the cave was nothing but blackness ahead of her, below her, everywhere. Every step she took, she felt as though her foot might never touch the ground.



He tightened his grip on her hand. “It’s even footing and I won’t let you fall,” he said, but she noticed he slowed down.



It was a relief when they left the dark hollowness of the cave. A relief to hear the waves and to have the Aether lighting the way. The reddish glow at the edges of the funnels seemed more vibrant now than just hours ago.



“Are we swimming?” she said as he took her down to the water’s edge. “Because the last time I did that wasn’t very enjoyable.”



She’d been in the ice-cold waters of the Snake River with Roar, fighting desperately to stay alive.



Perry gave her a crooked smile. “Same,” he said, and she remembered how he’d almost drowned trying to save Willow and her grandfather. He put his arm around her shoulders, guiding her closer to the waves. “But it’s the only way, and it’s not far.”



“Only way to what? Not far to where?”



He stopped and pointed down the beach. “There’s a cove on the other side of that point.”



She didn’t see a cove. What she saw were waves pounding against rocks that jutted out of the ocean. “Aren’t we standing in a cove right now?”



“Yes, but the one around that point is magic.”



She laughed, surprised by his choice of words.



He glanced down at her, his eyes narrowing. “Are you telling me you don’t believe in magic?”



“Oh, I do. But the way to the magic cove looks cold. And dangerous . . . and cold.”



Perry’s hand slid to her injured arm. “You can do it,” he said, homing in on the real source of her apprehension.



Aria stared at the point. It was shrouded in darkness, and the tide looked rough, and she had no idea if she had the strength to swim all the way there.



“I’ll be right beside you if you need me, but you won’t. And I can’t do anything about the cold until we get there, but it’ll be worth it. There are no problems in the magic cove. Everything over there is . . .” He paused, smiling almost to himself. “It’s perfect.”



Aria shook her head. How could she say no to that?



They waded out past the waves together. She started shivering when the water reached her shins. Her teeth chattered when it reached her thighs. By the time it rose up over her waist, she decided this was the best idea he’d ever had.



Every wave that crashed past them was exhilarating, sending bolts of adrenaline through her. Her mind cleared and her senses opened to the salt water she tasted. To the sound of Perry’s laugh mixing with hers, and his grip tightening when the water pushed them back. She hadn’t even seen it yet, but the magic cove was already perfect.



“We have to go under the next wave,” Perry said, letting go of her hand. “Dive and then swim out as far as you can before you come up. Ready?”



She didn’t have a chance to answer. The wave came, towering and dark and capped in white. She dove and kicked, pushing until her lungs burned for oxygen.



When she came up, Perry was smiling. “All good?” he said.



She nodded, her teeth already chattering. “Race you,” she said.



They swam past the breakers toward smoother water. Cutting through the waves pushed her beyond thought, turning her into pure action. It took strength and yet it demanded surrender as well. It was both, folded into one. Aria only caught glimpses of Perry when she came up for air, but she knew he was right there.



When they finally waded out onto the beach, she was in desperate need of warmth, but she felt better than she had in weeks. The cold had numbed her arm, allowing her to move freely without guarding herself against pain.



Perry pulled her to his side. “What did you think?” he asked, smiling.



“I think you should look more tired.” He’d moved through the water with the same power and effortlessness with which he did everything.



“Not with you to look forward to. Let’s get a fire going.”



Shivering, Aria hurried to gather driftwood. Nearby, Perry hoisted a large piece over his shoulder. He seemed unbothered by the bruises that still covered his arms and legs. Shaking a strand of seaweed from a branch, she remembered a story Roar had told her.



“Did you really sneak into the compound once wearing only seaweed?” she asked.



“Had to.” He dropped the wood onto a growing pile. “Liv swiped my clothes. It was either seaweed or nothing, and I wasn’t keen on the idea of strutting into the compound completely bare.” He smiled. “For days afterward I woke up to seaweed hanging on my front door.”



Aria laughed. “The Tides wanted an encore?”



Perry knelt and began stacking the wood. “Never found out. . . . It was probably Liv again. She was like that. She could never let something go.”



Aria couldn’t see his face, but she knew from the tone in his voice that he wasn’t smiling anymore. While it hurt to see him suffer, it felt better than seeing him retreat behind walls. Liv was gone, but he was letting her back into his life in a new way.



“I wish I’d known her better, Perry,” she said, adding her wood to the pile.



“If you spent an hour with her, then you knew Liv. My sister was . . . she was . . .”



He trailed off, so she finished for him. “Like you.”



“I was going to say willful and hardheaded.” He smiled. “So, yeah . . . like me.” He took a piece of flint and a dagger from the sheath at his belt. “How’s your arm?”



“Surprisingly good,” she said, sitting on the sand.



“I knew you’d be fine. What’ll really be surprising is if I can get this lit.” He turned his back to the wind, bending over his hands. He had sparks flinging into the tinder within seconds. She watched him blow the flames to life, consumed by him. He was as wild as the fire. As vital as the ocean. His own element.



He peered up as the fire took and smiled. “Impressed?”



She wanted to say something quick-witted, but she said the simple truth. “Yes.”



“Me too,” he said, putting the blade away.



They sat, growing quiet as they let the fire warm them. Since they’d reached the magic cove, they hadn’t spoken about Hovers, or about Sable or the Still Blue. It was almost like being free. She realized the last time she’d been this relaxed, this happy, had also been with him.



Perry shifted beside her, sitting forward and draping his arms over his knees. The bruises on his forearms were fading, and his hair was drying in spirals.



She’d only meant to glance at him, but the lines that made him—the muscles along his arms and shoulders, the angle of his jaw and the crook in his nose—were lines that mesmerized her.



He glanced over. Then he moved to her side and put his arm around her. “Are you trying to kill me with that look?” he whispered by her ear.



“I was trying to get you over here—and it worked.”



He brushed a kiss over her lips and then took her hand. “You know how Roar calls you Halfy and Ladybug?”



She nodded. Roar was always coming up with pet names for her.



“I want to call you something too. Something special. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”



As he spoke, Perry absently pressed his hands around hers, wrapping them in a cocoon of warmth. He ran so hot. The chill melted out of her fingers in seconds.



This was them, Everything that passed between them felt easy and right.



“You have?” She’d always loved that he called her Aria. She had plenty of nicknames. Her mother had called her Songbird. Roar called her just about everything else. Perry— after the initial period of Mole and Dweller when they’d first come together—had taken to calling her, simply, Aria.



It wasn’t simple, though. Spoken in his unhurried, golden voice, the sound of her name became something beautiful. It became what it was. A song. But a nickname was what he wanted, so she said, “What have you come up with?”



“None of the usual things are good enough for you. So I started thinking about what you mean to me. How even the smallest things remind me of you. Last week, Talon was showing me his bait collection. He keeps this jar of night crawlers, and I wondered what you’d think of it. If you’d find them disgusting, or if you wouldn’t mind them.”



She smiled, seeing an opportunity she couldn’t resist. “Night crawlers, as in earthworms? You want to call me Earthworm?”



His laugh was a burst of surprise. “No.”



“I could get used to . . . Earth . . . worm.”



He shook his head at the sky. “I never say the right things to you, do I?”



“I don’t know. I think I might like Night Crawler even better. It almost sounds dangerous—”



He moved suddenly. In an instant she was on her back in the sand, pinned beneath him. She was reminded of his strength—and just how careful he usually was with her.



“Now you’re making me desperate,” he said, his eyes moving over her face slowly.



He didn’t look desperate. He looked focused. Like he knew exactly what he wanted. Her hands were splayed on his chest. Was he trembling or was she?



“Tell me what to say. What can I say to make you want me the way I want you?”



The words sent a thrill up her spine, making her shiver. She smiled. “That worked.” She pulled him down and kissed him, needing his warmth. Needing his mouth and his skin and his taste. Her fingers found the hem of his shirt. She pulled it over his head and found him smiling, his hair ruffled.



He leaned down, bracing his arms on either side of her, his lips soft as they kissed a trail from her mouth to her ear. “What I was trying to say,” he whispered, “is that I see you in everything. There isn’t a word for you that means enough, because you’re everything to me.”



“Perfect words,” she said, her smile wobbling with emotion. “Magical.”



He looked into her eyes, flashing a proud grin. “Yeah?”



She nodded. “Yes.”



His mouth found hers again, his kisses hungry, his weight settling onto her. She wove her fingers into his damp curls, and she was gone. Swept away. Nothing else existed beyond his body and hers, moving like strength and surrender, folded into one.



Cinder and Talon still slept soundly when they returned to Perry’s tent, but Flea was gone.



“Willow,” she said.



Perry smiled. “He stayed longer than I thought he would.”



After they changed into dry clothes, Aria curled against him, comfortable and warm.