We run as fast as we can, not looking back as the ground gets steeper. And the higher we climb, the more the air clears until we’re finally able to gather the winds we need for a pipeline.
“Wait,” Vane shouts, adding a Westerly to the mix before I give the final command.
Then he takes my hand, grabbing Gus with his other as he shouts “Enhance!” and the vortex expands around us, blasting us out of the valley.
CHAPTER 27
VANE
I can’t believe we’re alive.
Well . . . for now.
I don’t know how long that crazy wind-sludge stuff will trap Raiden in Death Valley, but I’m betting it’s asking too much for it to last a few hundred years. Odds are, we have a couple of hours. Maybe less.
The vortex spits us out into the open air, and I do useful things like scream and flail while Audra unravels the pipeline and Gus gathers Southerlies and tangles them around us to slow our fall. At least I remember to release the Westerly shields. We owe our lives to those weary drafts. They deserve to be free.
The winds around Gus and me zip into the gray twilight sky. But Audra’s shield tightens its grip, and from the smile on her face I can tell she wants it to stay. Only Audra could make a Westerly her new pet.
“Where are we?” Gus asks when we touch down in the middle of yet another desert. I’m starting to wonder if that’s all there is in this freaking state when I realize we’re not actually in California anymore.
The skyline in the distance has a castle, an Eiffel Tower, and a blinking neon pyramid. Leave it to me to blast us all the way to Vegas.
“Looks like we’re at least three hours from home. Unless someone wants to hit the buffets first? Or maybe get married by Elvis?”
I realize the awkward mess I’ve stepped in the second the joke leaves my mouth.
“That’s not a proposal,” I tell Audra, wondering if her cheeks are as red as mine feel. It’s hard to tell in the dim moonlight. “I would never—well, I don’t mean never—I just mean . . . I would do it way better than that—not that I’m thinking about proposing—at least not now—I just . . .”
Please, somebody kill me now.
Then Gus clears his throat and I realize there’s a whole other level of awkward to this situation.
I sigh. “Listen. I know I can’t ask you to—”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone,” Gus interrupts. “This one’s your mess. I’m staying out of it.”
Well, that’s good—I guess. I don’t know, I’m kinda over the whole “hiding it” thing. But I’ll have to talk to Audra and see how she feels about going public.
“But just so I’m clear,” Gus adds, “she’s the one you were sneaking off to the mountains to check for all the time, right?”
“All the time?” Audra repeats.
“Every chance I could,” I admit. “Finding your trace was the only thing that kept me going.”
Her face falls and I reach for her. “Hey—I didn’t mean it like that. I just missed you. I—” My hand brushes something wet on her side and she flinches. “You’re still bleeding?”
I lift the side of her shirt, and my head starts to cloud when I see the dark, jagged gash that starts above her hip and stretches onto her stomach.
“I’m fine,” she insists as I search for something I can use to cover the wound.
I try to tear off the bottom of my shorts, but the thick cargo fabric refuses to rip.
Why did I have to take off my stupid shirt?
“Hey,” she says, coiling her Westerly around her waist, “It’s okay, see? The wind helps us heal.”
I can’t tell if the cool breeze is actually stopping the blood or just whisking it away—but I guess it’ll have to do until we can get home.
“Do you feel any threat?” Audra asks Gus, who has his hands stretched out, searching the air.
“No. I don’t feel anything.”
He stalks off into the desert without another word.
It’s hard to see in the dim light, but I hear him unsheathe his windslicer and start hacking the crap out of something.
Audra looks at me, and I know she’s waiting for me to go talk to him. But what am I supposed to say? I’m assuming this is about his dad, and I suck at emotional things like this.
Several minutes pass and Gus is still going to town, so I finally make my way over.
“Hey,” I mumble, off to a brilliant start. “Um . . . you okay?”
“Oh yeah, I’m awesome.” He takes another swing, slicing the top off a dry, scraggly bush.
“Look. I know you’re angry—and I don’t blame you. What happened to Feng was—and I don’t mean what you did to the Storm thing . . . I mean what Raiden did. By the time you got there he . . .”
Wow, I really suck at this.
“I know that thing wasn’t my father,” Gus growls, slashing another plant. “And I always knew I would probably lose him. It’s what happens to guardians—it’s in the oath we all swear. It’s just”—he sighs and stares up at the stars—“there’s really nothing left. I can’t even find his echo.”
“I never found my father’s either,” Audra says, coming up beside me. “And I know it probably sounds crazy but . . . sometimes I wonder if that’s because he’s not really gone. It feels like there’s still part of him left—a small hint of his presence carried on a breeze, that finds me when I need him most.”
Her voice cracks and I reach for her hand.
She never told me that—and I have no idea if it’s possible. But I hope it’s true.
Gus must too, because he takes a deep breath and slides the dark blade of his windslicer back in its sheath.
Raiden’s windslicer.
I want to grab it and hurtle it into the desert as far as I can—but a scarier thought stops me cold.
We took Raiden’s weapon.
And we escaped.
And I taunted him in front of everyone.
If Raiden went after Gus’s mom to punish Feng for his victory—how much more will he want to retaliate against me for all of that?
“I have to get home,” I say, kicking myself for not thinking of this sooner. How many minutes have we already wasted?
Solana’s with my parents—and I haven’t told them to come back, so they shouldn’t be home yet. But I bet Raiden has a way to track them down.
Audra must know what I’m thinking because she puts a hand on my shoulder. “The Gales will protect them.”
I nod, hoping she’s right—but when we left, the Gales had all been called away. And even if they’re back, protecting my family has never been a very high priority. . . .
“We should use another pipeline to get back,” I say, cringing as I suggest it. Hurtling through one feels like getting launched from a slingshot, blasted through a giant vacuum, and then flung back toward the ground at rocket speed.
Audra shakes her head. “Pipelines should only be used for emergencies.”
“This is an emergency!”
“No, she’s right. They’re pretty unstable—especially over a long distance,” Gus tells me. “And if they collapse while you’re in there, there’s nothing you can do.”
Funny how Audra never mentioned that when she taught me how to make them.
“But we made it to Vegas,” I remind them. “Maybe the fourth wind makes pipelines safer.”
“Or we got lucky,” Gus argues. “I thought my head was going to explode, didn’t you?”
Actually, I thought my skin was going to tear off—but I don’t want to admit that. I have to get home.
Audra squeezes my hand. “Flying with the power of four will get us there in half the time. And I don’t think Raiden’s going to make a move yet, anyway. He called the Living Storm the first of his new army—I can’t see him attacking until he’s made more. But even if we are racing toward another battle, we need time to come up with a strategy, and we can do that along the journey.”
She calls drafts from all four winds
and weaves them into a wind bubble around the three of us. “I think we should fly together. Everyone hold tight.”
Gus moves behind me and grabs my shoulders. I can tell he’s trying to avoid where Raiden kicked me, but the bruise covers my whole freaking shoulder blade. The one on my side is even worse, and it aches every time I take a deep breath. I wouldn’t be surprised if Raiden cracked a few ribs.
But it’s nothing compared to what he did to Audra. I try to find a spot on her waist that’s safe to grab, but it’s all too raw and bloody. She takes my hands and slides them lower.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she mumbles when we both realize that I’m practically cupping her butt.
If Gus weren’t here and my family wasn’t in danger—and she weren’t bleeding—I would have lots of ideas. But under the circumstances, all I want to do is get back to my valley as fast as we can.
Audra shouts, “Rise,” and we blast into the sky faster than I’ve ever flown before. The stars turn to a blur and I hear Audra whispering adjustments, keeping the winds in check as we fly. But her voice sounds tired, and the shadows under her eyes are almost as dark as my bruise.
“Hey,” I say, pulling her closer. “Let me take over. You need to rest.”
She smiles. “It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to let us plummet to our deaths.”
“Uh—I can windwalk. How else do you think I got here? Took me a few tries to get it right, but once I figured out how to hear the wind’s undertones, it was easy.”
“Undertones?”
“Yeah. Like right now, the Easterlies are longing to spin to the left. So I would coax them back on path.”
She sucks in a breath.
“What—does something hurt?”
“No, it’s just . . . that’s my father’s gift . . .”
“Is it? Well, I guess you must’ve shared it with me when we bonded.”
Audra shakes her head. “I’ve never heard of gifts passing during a bond. My parents’ didn’t. My mom had hers—my dad had his.”
“Mine too,” Gus mumbles.
Audra’s quiet for so long I have to finally ask, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just trying to figure out what it means. I’ve never heard of bonds sharing languages either, and yet . . .”
I pull her even closer, feeling an explosion of heat rush between us as I whisper, “I think it means we were meant to be together.”
“If you two start making out I will fling you out of the wind bubble,” Gus warns.
I can’t help laughing.
“Later,” I whisper to Audra, loving when I feel her shiver.
I still can’t believe she’s here. Back in my arms after all these weeks.
“Aren’t we supposed to be coming up with a strategy?” Gus asks, and I totally hate him for being right.
We need something better than his grab-and-stab plan, since that didn’t exactly go well in Death Valley. Not that Audra’s attack-the-Living-Storm-all-by-herself plan was much better.
“Why were you there?” I ask, realizing she never explained. “Did you know Raiden was going to be there today?”
“No. Aston told me I should go to Death Valley—but I doubt he knew Raiden was going to be there.”
“Aston?” I want to snuff out the sudden wave of jealousy—but that totally sounds like one of those preppy British guys that girls are always fawning all over.
It doesn’t make me feel any better when Gus asks, “Wait—Aston as in . . . Aston?”
Audra nods.
They both don’t say anything else for so long that my mind has time to turn Aston into the sylph James Bond. Then Audra tells me he’s a crazy ex-Gale who held her hostage in a cave up north, and by the end of her story I’m biting my inner cheek so hard I taste blood.
“Did he . . . ?” I can’t even say it.
She reaches out and strokes my face. “He didn’t hurt me. I think he was mainly just . . . lonely.”
I don’t like the way she says that word—like she almost feels sorry for the guy who tied her up and threatened to kill her. Ex-Gale or not, that’s an automatic qualification for the You Are Dead to Me list I’ve started making.
“You really don’t think he knew Raiden was going there?” Gus asks.
“No, I think that was a fluke. I do believe the Easterlies who coaxed me there knew that Raiden was on his way. But I think Aston sent me because he wanted me to see the Maelstrom.”
This time Gus shivers. “I’ve heard of those.”
Audra stares into the darkness. “It was much more evil than the rumors.”
Evil.
The word gives me a strange flutter in my stomach.
I still haven’t decided how I feel about Arella being trapped in a Maelstrom. But it doesn’t feel like a good sign that Audra sounds so freaked out.
I wonder how she’ll react when I tell her about her mom—not that I have any idea how to do that. I’ll have to find the right time to bring it up.
Not tonight. We have enough going on—and even if we’re safe, I can think of lots of better ways to spend our first night back together.
We whiz past the glowing hotel of a massive Indian casino, which means we’re finally getting close. Audra slows the winds when the weird Cabazon dinosaurs blur by. Then she changes course, steering us into the mountains and setting us down on one of the lower peaks.
I hold my breath as we all listen for signs of a storm.
The sky is clear. The winds calm.
“All the drafts coming from the northeast say nothing about an attack,” Audra says, closing her eyes. “And I feel no unrest in the valley.”
“Me either,” Gus agrees.
We all push our senses as far as they can go, but everything is quiet.
A little too quiet.
“Where are the Gales?” Audra whispers.
“They went to find my father.” Gus’s voice hitches on the word, and he has to clear his throat before he continues. “The Stormers made a false trail, and I guess the Gales haven’t figured it out yet. I’ll use the emergency call to get them back and bring them up to speed.”
“Do you want us to stay with—”
“No,” Gus cuts me off. “I really need some space.”
I nod.
Audra nods too. Then she wraps her arms around me, sending tingling waves of heat through my aching shoulders as I tangle us in Westerlies and fly us back to my house.
All the windows are dark as we touch down on the grass, so my family must still be on the move like I thought. I know I should call them and tell them to come home, but they’re probably safer out there. Plus, Audra and I could use some time alone. We have a lot to figure out.
“So . . . ,” I say after I’ve tested the air to double-check that we’re safe. “Now what?”
“I don’t know.”
She stares at her feet and tucks her hair behind her ear.
It’s bizarre to see her look so shy. Even more bizarre to think that she’s here, standing outside my house, holding my hand.
We’re not broken up.
In fact, I’m pretty sure we’ve never been more together.
All that’s left to figure out is “Your place or mine?”
Her nervous laugh rings through the night.
I pull her closer, wrapping her arms around my neck, and I suck in a breath as the heat of her body sparks against me. I sorta forgot I was shirtless—but I’m very aware of it now.
Very aware of how tiny her tank top is too.
I clear my throat. “Seems like a pretty simple decision to me. On the one hand, your place has scratchy palm leaves. And bugs. And dead things.”
“Dead things?”
“Gavin’s been busy. He’s pretty pissed at you, by the way. He may tear out some of your hair when he sees you.”
“I wouldn’t blame him.” She leans her head against my chest, triggering a new wave of sparks that makes it very hard to breathe.
“So then . . . my place?”
I whisper. “No psycho bird. Everything we need to get cleaned up. Then a nice soft bed . . .”
She leans back to look at me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Actually, I think it’s a very good idea. Pretty much the best idea I’ve ever had.”
She smiles and steps up to her tiptoes, pecking me on the lips before she pulls away.
I grab her hands to stop her from leaving. “I promise, I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
I drop my eyes to our hands, twisting our fingers together. “I just . . . I feel like if I let you out of my sight, you might disappear again.”
Sadness seeps into her features and she lifts my hand to her lips, kissing the center of my palm. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then stay with me.”
I can hardly believe it when she nods, and my legs get all weak and wobbly as I lead her toward the house.
I forgot to bring a key to the front door, so we head toward my bedroom, and I can’t help turning toward the date grove—where Feng will never wait for me again.
I swallow the lump in my throat as I try to open my window. It’s locked too.
Audra laughs and nudges me aside, sending a draft under the sill that clicks the lock and slides open the window in one go, like she’s done it a thousand times before. I smile when I realize she has.
But this time is different.
This time I’m not asleep, and she’s not sneaking around.
She climbs in first and I copy her steps, for once making it inside without scraping my skin on the thorns. And as soon as my feet hit the rug, I pull her against me, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her—
“I thought you were going to be the perfect gentleman,” she whispers against my lips.
“Well, maybe not perfect.”
I feel her mouth twist with a smile as she slides her hands up my neck and tangles her fingers in my hair. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
She kisses me then, and the sparks are so hot, so bright, I swear they almost blind me—but when I open my eyes, I really am blind and it has nothing to do with the kiss.
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