“Eight—I mean ten days,” she answered, adding the two days she’d been unconscious with fever.
Rose’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You’re dehydrated and undernourished. I’ve never treated a Dweller before, but as far as I can tell you’re otherwise in good health.”
Aria shrugged. “I don’t feel like I’m . . .”
Dying.
She couldn’t finish the sentence. No one was more surprised than she was about her health. She remembered laying her head on Perry’s satchel early in their odyssey. She’d been so tired and sore to the bone. She still felt that way, like her muscles and her feet needed to heal, but now she had the sense they would heal. She didn’t feel cramps anymore, or headaches, or the grip of illness.
How much longer would her health hold? How long would it take to fix the Smarteye and reach Lumina?
Rose returned the reader to the case.
“Did you treat Peregrine?” Aria asked. “Who I came here with?” She could too easily picture the blisters across the solid bones of his knuckles.
“I did. You’ll heal faster than he will.” She rested her hand on the opened lid, ready to close it. “He’s been here before.”
Aria knew she was being baited. “Has he?”
“A year ago. We grew close,” Rose said, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “At least, I thought we did. Scires will do that. They know exactly what to say and how it affects you. They’ll give you what you want, but they won’t give you themselves.” She pushed up her sleeve, showing unmarked skin around her biceps. “Not unless you’re one of them.”
“That was so . . . open of you,” Aria said. She couldn’t help imagining Perry with her. Beautiful. A handful of years older than Aria and Perry both. She felt her face go hot but couldn’t stop herself from asking the next question. “Do you still love him?”
Rose laughed. “It’s probably best if I don’t answer that. I’m married now and with child.”
Aria stared at Rose’s flat stomach. Was she always this candid? “I don’t know why you’re telling me all of this.”
“Marron told me to help you so that’s what I’m doing. I knew what I was getting into. I knew it would never work. I think you should know too.”
“Thanks for the warning but I’m leaving. Besides, Perry and I are just friends. Even that’s questionable.”
“He wanted me to see to you first until he learned you were asleep. He told me you walked a week on those cuts without once moaning about it. I don’t think there’s much question at all.” Rose shut the case with a loud snap, the hint of a smile on her lips.
“Tread carefully, Aria. And try to stay off your feet.”
Chapter 24
ARIA
Aria stepped into the hallway, Rose’s words still echoing in her mind. Tapestries hung on smooth turquoise walls, the color picking up the rich threads that wove an ancient battle scene. A lighted alcove to one end housed a life-size marble statue of a man and woman locked in either a fierce struggle or a passionate embrace. It was hard to tell. To the other end of the hall, stairs with a gilt-leafed banister swept downward. Aria smiled. Everything in Delphi came from a different time and place. Marron’s home felt like being in a dozen Realms at once.
Perry’s voice drifted up the stairs. For a moment, she closed her eyes and listened to his deep drawl. Even among Outsiders, he had a distinctive, unhurried way of talking. He spoke of his home, the Tide Valley. Of his worries about Aether storms and raids by other tribes. For someone who hardly said anything, he was a compelling speaker. Concise but sure. After a few minutes, she shook her head at her own shameless eavesdropping.
The stairs took her back down to the room with the couches. Roar sat on one, Perry sprawled across another. Marron perched by Roar, one rounded leg bouncing over the other. She didn’t see Cinder but that didn’t surprise her. Perry stopped speaking and sat up when he saw her. She tried not to think of what that meant, that he didn’t want to continue in her presence.
He wore new clothes like she did. A shirt the color of sand. Leather pants that were closer to black than brown and weren’t patched and re-patched. His hair had been pulled back and it gleamed under the lights. He was drumming the fingers of his good hand against his cast. He was also pointedly not looking her way.
Marron came over and took her hands into his, the action so full of affection Aria couldn’t bring herself to pull away. He wore what Aria could only call a smoking jacket, a ridiculous burgundy velvet affair, trimmed and belted with black satin sashes.
“Ah,” he said, his cheeks plumping with a smile. “You received them. Not a bad fit, I see. I have other clothes being readied for you, my dear. But this will do fine for now. How are you, darling?”
“Good. Thank you for these. And for the rose,” she added, realizing it had come from Marron, along with the clothes.
Marron leaned in, giving her hands a squeeze. “A small gift for a great beauty.”
Aria laughed nervously. In Reverie, she wasn’t anything unusual. Only her voice set her apart from other people. To be praised for something she’d had no say in seemed odd, but it also felt nice.
“Shall we eat?” Marron asked. “We have much to discuss and might as well fill our stomachs as we do it. I’m sure you’re all quite hungry.”
They followed him into a dining room as lavishly decorated as the rest of Delphi. The walls were covered in crimson and gold fabric and hung floor to ceiling with oil portraits. Candlelight caught on crystal and silver, filling the room with sparkling light. The opulence sent a pang of sorrow through her. It reminded her of the Opera House.