“Then what about full-time guards?” I ask.
“I tried that already,” Os says. “She slipped away within hours.”
“I came back,” Arella reminds him.
“No—we hunted you down.”
“I let you find me,” she corrects. “Believe me, if I wanted to disappear, I could. I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’m trying to be better. All I’m asking is for you to trust me.”
Audra snorts, and I tangle our fingers tighter as I lean in to ask her, “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers. “I don’t think I can choose.”
“Wonderful,” Os says. “So our four potential leaders can’t even render a single decision.”
“I’ll give you a decision,” Aston says. “Make Arella my responsibility. I know how to control her. And this is an arrangement she already agreed to.”
She did—I was there.
But now . . . I don’t know.
“Allowing you to torture her three times a day doesn’t sound much better than sending her back to the Maelstrom,” I have to admit.
“She wouldn’t be dead,” Aston argues, “so that’s a pretty big improvement. She’d also have my charming company. But for the record, I have no intention of feasting on her pain. I’ve actually decided to go on a bit of a diet as far as that’s concerned. Solana’s new methods seem to be slowing my cravings.”
“Are you okay with this?” I whisper to Audra. “It’s better than the Maelstrom, right?”
She has her face turned to the wind, blinking back tears as she listens to their songs.
Os sighs. “We don’t have time for this.”
“You don’t have time to consult the wind?” Solana asks.
“Is that what she’s doing?” Os snaps back. “Or is she stalling?”
“It started as stalling,” Audra admits. “But the wind does have an alternative suggestion.”
I concentrate on the winds’ song and notice its singing about a lost bird. It doesn’t mean anything to me, but it has a different effect on Audra.
She sounds equal parts weary and nervous as she whispers, “The wind wants her to be my responsibility.”
CHAPTER 48
AUDRA
I should’ve known the wind would side with my mother—though I suppose I should be grateful it didn’t tell me to forgive her.
Only to help.
And to attempt to understand her.
I hear the words of the Easterly’s song in my father’s voice—deep and rich and resonant. And I can imagine him standing in front of me, his eyes glinting with too much love and joy to ever match the wind’s melancholy tone:
A lost bird with tired wings
Never rests and never sings
Begs the sky for a place to land
Never finds a friendly hand
Passing time fades hope into a darker shade of gray
Wayward winds drag calm and reason much too far away
Hearts go cold
Paths get crossed
Strength fades to bitter doubt
Sometimes the end only begins when someone reaches out
My father was the first to offer my mother shelter—the first to steady her against the turbulence of her power.
But it wasn’t enough.
How am I supposed to be more than he was?
“What do you mean she’ll be your responsibility?” Os asks, giving me a chance to take the words back.
It’s one of those rare split paths, where I can choose the easy and safe. Put myself ahead. Take what I want.
Or not.
I know which path my mother would choose.
And I never want to be her.
So I choke down my bitter anger and tell Os, “I meant that I’ll be the one to monitor her. The place she’s been hiding these last ten years is sufficiently isolated and safe. I’ll make sure she stays there, finishing her days in peace and never harming another life again.”
“Wait—what?” Vane says, as Os asks me, “How?”
“I’m still piecing it all together,” I tell them both.
I can’t stay with her in that stuffy house—my sanity will unravel.
But how else can I keep a vigilant enough watch?
Vane takes my hands, his eyes searching my face. “I’ll support whatever you decide—and I’ll help any way I can,” he promises. “But do you really want to be your mother’s babysitter?”
“Want isn’t the right word,” I whisper. “But . . . she’s my mother.”
And there it is—the truth I’ve been running from for longer than I can remember.
Unstable and cruel as my mother can be, we share the same blood.
And . . . she’s had her moments, however rare and far between.
She flew to Raiden’s fortress to aid in my rescue. She also convinced Aston to remain after he’d chosen to flee.
Also—probably most tellingly—she didn’t fight back when I attacked her after Gus died.
She’s not the same crazed woman who attacked me after I learned her role in my father’s death. I thought I saw my real mother that day. But maybe I only saw another part.
A dangerous, deadly side that must be restrained and monitored.
But not her entire essence, either.
And with that admission, I feel the truth settle—like that lost, lonely bird, finally finding a place to rest.
Sometimes the end only begins when someone reaches out.
“So this is your vote, then?” Os asks.
I focus on my mother as I nod.
Her expression is unreadable—but I’d expect nothing less.
Vane tightens his hold on my hands as he says, “Then it’s mine, too.”
“The matter can always be revisited if the arrangement doesn’t work,” Solana adds. “So for now, that’s my vote as well.”
“Well, I suppose that means I should add my vote,” Aston says. “And hey, look at that! The four of us found a way to agree. Bet you thought we wouldn’t be able to do that, didn’t you, Ossy?”
Os shakes his head, more in frustration than disagreement before he launches into further reminders that our decision-making powers haven’t actually been granted.
Those still lie up in the air, like so many other things.
Too many other things.
The most important things.
“How am I supposed to leave you here?” I whisper to Vane as everyone shifts back into motion. “How can I fly away when any moment now, Raiden could arrive. And if . . .”
“Hey, maybe this will be good,” Vane says, pulling me closer. “We’ll prove we’re not one of those like . . . needy, codependent couples.”
He tries to smile, but I notice he hasn’t let go of my hands.
It should be me fighting with him—or me fighting for him.
But the wind is telling me to go.
I focus on the feathery soft clouds—clouds that promise calm and quiet ease—and beg the sky to lend Vane its full power and protection.
I’ll do anything the wind asks, if it rises up this one last time.
I’m still finishing my plea when I notice a tangle of movement on the northern horizon.
“What is that?” Vane asks, pointing to the same blurry spot.
The dark smudge is too small to be Raiden, and yet I still hear the scrape of drawn windslicers.
My mother covers her mouth. “No! The poor thing . . .”
Her words choke into a sob.
I don’t understand her grief until she calls the swirling winds to her side, and a tangle of long, golden-brown feathers flutters to our feet.
“Is that . . . ?” Vane asks.
“Yes,” Aston tells him. “It looks like our eagle messenger met a rather unpleasant end.”
My mother drops to her knees, tracing her long fingers over the plucked carnage.
Another innocent life stolen.
Another sacrifice without reason.
Let this be the
end.
“It’s a message,” my mother whispers, drying her eyes with the back of her hand. She counts the notches in the feathers, and I try to do the same, but Raiden used the code only she can translate.
“He says that if you and Solana are brave enough to face him, you need to leave all your weapons and let his wind carry you to where it began.”
“What does that mean?” Vane asks.
“It means he’s asking for a change of location,” Os tells him.
“Yeah, I got that,” Vane says. “But where?”
“He doesn’t specify,” my mother says, checking the feathers again. “But based on what I feel in his wind, I’d guess you’ll be traveling several hundred miles south.”
“Oklahoma,” Os whispers. “That’s where it has to be. He spent most of his childhood there.”
“And judging by his message,” Aston adds, “I’d wager it’s also where his sister died.”
The words settle in, each one a cold, jagged stone.
“So . . . we have to go, right?” Vane asks. “The wind is still giving me the same advice.”
“You do realize it sounds like Raiden doesn’t expect to survive this little meeting, don’t you?” Aston asks. “In which case, it’s unlikely he’s still hoping to collect your power.”
The same worries thunder through my mind, mixed with the sound of Raiden’s laughter.
“But isn’t that a good thing?” Vane asks. “It means even he knows he can’t win.”
“Never underestimate the desperation of a trapped animal,” Os reminds him.
“Sinking ship mentality,” Aston agrees. “If he has to go, he’ll take the precious ones with him.”
“Then wouldn’t he ask for Audra to come too?” Vane asks.
“He knows you’ll never bring her near him,” Os says. “The fact that you excluded her from the original plan made that clear.”
“Or he has other plans for her,” Aston warns.
“You can speculate all day,” my mother tells them. “And never be any closer to the answer. Raiden’s a Northern squall. You can’t predict him. You can only battle the storm.”
“But they’re not battling the storm,” Os argues. “They’re letting it lead them blindly to the slaughter.”
“I think I’ve lost track of the metaphor,” Vane mumbles.
His hand shakes as he pulls it away from mine and holds up the whistlepipe. “But we should be safe as long as I still have this. He clearly wants it back. So I’ll shield it with Westerlies so he can’t tell if I’m carrying it, and use that to stall him while we wait for the wind to tell us how to end him.”
I can see dozens of flaws with that plan.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
But I also see no other option.
“We should probably get going,” Solana says, sounding far more enthusiastic than I can ever imagine feeling. “Every second we delay gives him more time to prepare.”
“And what about your preparations?” Os asks. “You haven’t discussed a single strategy. You haven’t gathered any weapons. All you’ve done is end your betrothal and waste time on vulgar public displays of affection.”
“Best decision ever,” Vane says, grinning at me. “And come on, Os. We all know we’re not going to take Raiden out with a windslicer or a wind spike—in fact, if we tried that, we’d just get destroyed by his creepy backlash thing. So screw planning—that’s Raiden’s trick. And it’s all an illusion. Time and again we’ve proven that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t control the wind. All we have to do is keep trusting the sky.”
“Keep in mind that the wind doesn’t actually care whether you live or die,” Aston warns him. “It’s very clever. But that doesn’t mean it has compassion.”
I despise the words for being true.
And I despise the helplessness that pours over me as Solana gathers the fallen feathers and calls for Raiden’s wind.
Tears blur my eyes as Vane pulls me closer, turning us away from the crowd so it’s just him and me.
“This isn’t goodbye,” he tells me. “It’s ‘see you soon.’ Really soon. As fast as I can be there. And I need you to be careful in the meantime, okay?”
“I’m not the one we need to be worrying about,” I remind him.
“Hopefully not—but we both know I’m going to worry anyway. So promise me you’ll keep your guard up.”
“I always do.”
He grins and whispers, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I breathe. “So you have to come back to me.”
“Like you could ever keep me away.”
“I worry you’re not taking this as seriously as you should be,” I whisper. “Raiden just killed hundreds of people. He’s up to something—”
“I know,” Vane interrupts. “Believe me, I’m very aware of how freaking scary what I’m about to do is. But I’m going to win, Audra. You know why? Because I have too much to live for.”
He leans and kisses me then, his lips tender and soft and sweet. It fills me with warm flutters—but it’s not the desperate rush I crave.
I know what he’s trying to show me.
He’s saving the rest for later.
Still, I take a little more for myself now, dragging him closer, parting his lips, breathing in his breath as he gasps to keep up with me.
This isn’t goodbye.
But it’s a reminder of how much I need him.
Someone clears their throat, and I finally let Vane break away.
His eyes look as wild as his tousled hair, and it’s such a beautiful thing.
“Where can I find you when this is over?” he asks, brushing a hand across my cheek.
“Your house,” I decide, earning one of his glorious smiles.
“That will be the best homecoming ever.”
He steals one last kiss, leaving a sweet taste in my mouth before he steps away and joins Solana.
His eyes never leave mine as Solana tangles Raiden’s wind around them, sealing them inside the bubble without another word.
There’s nothing more to say.
One way or another, this ends tonight.
All I can do is hope and wait.
CHAPTER 49
VANE
So far I haven’t thrown up.
Or peed my pants.
Which is pretty awesome, considering this ruined wind is flying us way faster and bumpier than any wind should be allowed to move.
“You okay?” I ask Solana as we hit an especially hurl-worthy patch of turbulence.
She nods, and I realize she’s been awfully quiet since we left.
I guess we’ve both been quiet—though I’ve let out a bunch of yelps and squeals during some of the scarier dives. But I wonder if it’s still a little awkward for her, since, y’know, she did just have to watch me rebond with Audra. . . .
Actually, no, she’s probably trying to prepare for the upcoming battle, and I seriously need to get over myself.
I close my eyes and try to copy Solana’s focus, but it’s hard to concentrate around the steady tugging in my chest.
I’d forgotten how strong the pull of a healthy bond feels, like part of me is tethered to Audra, stretching thinner with each mile I put between us.
There’s a steady pain that comes with it, but it’s strangely comforting. It tells me she’s safe. And that she’s slowly drawing me back to her.
“By the way,” I say, hoping this is an okay thing to tell Solana. “Thank you for giving back your link.”
“Yeah, well . . . I figured you two might never get together otherwise. Honestly, for two stubborn, willful people, you both can be super insecure and wishy-washy.”
I have to laugh at that, glad things finally feel more normal between us.
She even adds, “You guys really are good together.”
I should probably stick with “thanks.” But for some reason I add, “You’ll find the same thing someday.”
God—why not just tell her S
omeday your prince will come?
I’m all set to apologize, but Solana laughs it off.
“Let’s worry about my love life after we survive tonight, okay?”
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.
The whole, flying into Raiden’s Trap of Inevitable Doom thing.
“Any idea what we’re in for?” I ask.
“I thought your new motto was ‘screw planning.’ ”
“Hey, just because I don’t want to try to out-control a control freak doesn’t mean I don’t think we should brace ourselves.”
“Well, in that case, I think it’s going to start slow. I think Raiden has something he wants to say to us before he does anything violent.”
“He is a bragger. . . .”
“Right, but I think it’ll be more than that. He went to a lot of effort to bring us somewhere personal to him. I’m assuming that means he’s going to tell us why we’re there. What I can’t figure out is, why us? And why now? If he’s really planning to kill us afterward, what’s the point?”
It’s a good question, actually.
Villains in movies tend to “monologue” a lot—but that’s usually just the screenwriter stalling things so the hero has enough time to make their dramatic escape.
Raiden’s way too smart for that.
Then again, it’d be awesome if he does it. Especially since our whole plan is: Stay alive long enough for the wind to tell us how to end him.
“Are you going to be okay?” Solana whispers, breaking my train of thought. “I mean . . . there’s no way this isn’t going to be violent. . . .”
“I’m ready to do whatever I have to do in order to finish this.”
I wish my mouth weren’t so dry as I say the words.
I try to focus on Gus—stay angry—remind myself of all the evil things Raiden has done. But really, it all comes down to one thing:
“I’m trusting the wind. I know we keep saying that, but it’s all I have. Either my heritage will save me—or . . . it’ll break me. Either way, it’ll be up to the sky.”
A long silence follows, until Solana asks, “It feels like we’re flying lower, doesn’t it?”
“I think so. But it’s hard to tell when I can’t see the ground.”
There’s a moon out there somewhere, but it must be blocked out by clouds. And I can hear thunder rolling in the distance.
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