Shannon Messenger - Let the Storm Break

“What are you laughing at, Legolas?” I ask when I make it to Gus. He doesn’t get that I’m teasing him about his blond, braided hair, and I’ve never explained the joke. Probably because he somehow makes the girlie hair work. That, and his biceps are bigger than my head.

“Just wondering when you’re going to figure out how to jump over the plants, not into them.”

“Hey, I’d like to see you do better—on zero sleep,” I add when Gus raises an eyebrow.

Gus is, like, Captain Fitness, and he has a special Windwalker gift that lets him channel the power of the wind into his muscles. If he weren’t such a nice guy, I’d probably hate him. A lot of the other guardians seem to, which is probably why he got stuck covering the late shift watching me. Rumor has it I’m not the most popular assignment. Apparently, I can be difficult.

“Maybe you should try wearing the Gale uniform,” Gus tells me, pulling at the long, stiff sleeves of his black guardian jacket. “It would save you a lot of scrapes.”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

I’m not wearing thick pants and a coat in the desert. Even in the middle of the night, this place feels like living inside a blow-dryer.

Plus, I’m not a Gale.

I’ll train with them and let them follow me around. But this isn’t my life. This is just something I have to deal with.

“Off for another mystery flight?” he asks as I stretch out my hands to feel for nearby winds.

Gus never asks me where I’m going, and he’s never tried to stop me.

“Make sure you stay north and west,” he warns. “They’re running heavy guard patrols in the south. Feng told me the Borderland Base had a disturbance yesterday.”

I freeze.

“Disturbance” is the Gales’ term for “attack.”

“Everyone okay?”

“Three of them survived.”

Which means two guardians didn’t—unless Borderland is one of the bigger bases, where they keep a crew of seven.

“Don’t worry—there’s no sign of Stormers in the area. They’re picking off all the fringes. Trying to leave us stranded out here.”

Yeah, because that doesn’t make me worry.

My voice shakes as I call three nearby Easterlies to my side, but I feel a little better when I hear their familiar songs. The east wind always sings of change and hope.

“Still don’t trust me enough to use Westerly?” Gus asks. “You know I won’t understand it.”

I do know that.

And I trust Gus way more than I trust anyone else.

But I’m still not risking it.

My parents—and every other Westerly—gave up their lives to protect our secret language. And not just because they were brave enough to stand in the way of Raiden’s quest for ultimate power.

Violence goes against our very being.

I’ll never forget the agony that hit me when I ended the Stormer who’d been trying to kill Audra. Even though it was self-defense, it felt like my whole body shattered, and if Audra hadn’t been there to help me through, I’m not sure I would’ve pulled myself back together. I can’t risk letting the power of my heritage end up under the control of anyone who doesn’t understand the evil of killing. Anyone who isn’t as determined as I am to avoid it at any cost. Anyone who isn’t willing to make the kind of sacrifice that might be necessary to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands.

Even the Gales—no matter how much they beg or threaten. And yeah, they’ve threatened. They’ve made it pretty dang clear that Audra’s “desertion” is considered an especially serious offense right now, when they need her help so much more. But if they had the power of four on their side . . .

I still haven’t figured out how to handle any of that—except to add it to my list of  Things I Will Worry About Later.

“I’ll be back before sunrise,” I tell Gus as I wrap the winds around me and order them to surge . The cool drafts tangle tighter, stirring up the dusty ground as they launch me into the sky.

It takes me a second to get my bearings, and another after that to really get control. Audra hadn’t been kidding when she told me windwalking’s one of the hardest skills to master, and I definitely prefer letting her carry me. But it wasn’t quite the same being carted around by Fang or Gus, and it’s hard to sneak around in my noisy car. So I forced myself to learn how to get around on my own.

The first dozen times I tried, the drafts dropped me flat on my face. Then one night I had some sort of breakthrough. It wasn’t like the times when Audra opened my mind to the languages of the wind—but I did hear something new . A voice beneath the voice of the wind, telling me what the gust is about to do so I can give a new command and keep control.

I asked Gus about it once and he looked at me like I was psycho, so I’m pretty sure it’s something only I hear. Maybe something I picked up from Audra when we bonded, since I hear it best with Easterlies. Whatever it is, I’m grateful for it because it lets me fly faster and farther than even the most experienced Gales.

The lights of the desert cities blur below and I follow the streetlights lining the I-10 freeway, heading up into the mountains. It’s a path I’ve flown dozens of times, but I still feel my insides get all bunched up as I soar over the San Gorgonio Pass Wind Farm. There are gaps in the rows of blinking red lights now. Places where windmills used to be—before Raiden’s Stormers destroyed them in the fight.

Every time I relive the attack, I can’t help thinking the same thing.

Soon we’ll be fighting his whole army.

The air gets cooler as I fly, and as it sinks into my skin it feels like downing a shot of caffeine. Still, it barely makes a dent in my exhaustion, and my sleep-deprived body stumbles through the landing on San Gorgonio Peak. I sorta half sit, half collapse near the edge of the cliff.

I close my eyes, so tempted to curl up and grab even a few minutes of sleep. But it’s not worth the risk. Besides, I came here for something much more important.

I reach out my hands, searching for Audra’s trace.

I can’t really describe the process. It’s like some part of me connects to the wind, following an invisible trail through the sky that somehow always leads me to her. And I know it’s her.

The rush of heat.

The electricity zinging under my skin.

No girl has ever made me feel like that.

It helps that she’s the only connection I have to my past and that I’ve dreamed about her most of my life—and that she’s ridiculously hot. But even if she weren’t, Audra’s the one.

Always has been.

Always will be.

I sink into the warmth, leaning back and letting the sparks shock me with tiny zings. It’s almost like she’s holding on to me across the sky, promising that she’s still out there. Still safe.

Still mine .

And maybe I’m crazy, but the feeling seems stronger tonight.

Much stronger.

So intense it makes my heart race and my head spin. And the dizzier I get, the more I can’t help but ask the one question I’ve been trying not to let myself ask since I found her dusty jacket and her hasty goodbye.

Is she finally on her way home?

I try not to get my hopes up in case I’m wrong. But it doesn’t feel like I’m wrong. It feels like she’s so close I could reach out and—

Vane.

The sound makes my heart freeze.

I hold my breath, starting to think I imagined it when she melts out of the shadows.

She stands over me, her dark hair blowing in the wind, her dark eyes boring into mine. I don’t dare blink for fear she’ll disappear.