I blush while Gus shakes his head. “Dude, you’re hopeless.”
“And we need to get back down there.” I point to the desert basin, where the Living Storms are starting to scatter, heading into all the most populated areas.
“Dammit!” Vane shouts. “Why aren’t the Gales stopping them?”
He struggles to his feet, but barely lasts a second before he collapses to his knees.
“I’m fine,” he promises. “Just dizzy.”
But when he tries to get up again, he tumbles forward immediately.
“You’re way too weak to fight, man,” Gus says as he catches Vane before he lands on his bad arm. “I think we’re going to have to leave you here to rest and come get you when this is over.”
“I’m not going to hide in a cave while you guys fight,” Vane argues, trying to balance on his own. I move behind him as he wobbles, letting him lean against me.
“Just give me five minutes,” he begs. “All I need is some air.”
“Five minutes,” Gus repeats. “We need to come up with a plan, anyway.”
We all turn toward the valley, and my chest tightens when I see the Storms spreading even wider. It’s impossible to tell if the Gales are still fighting them, but the massive trails of destruction don’t look promising.
Vane reaches for my hands, locking our fingers together.
“I don’t see any Stormers, do you?” Gus asks, shielding his eyes and squinting at the mountains.
I shake my head as I concentrate on the winds. “I don’t feel any trace of them either.” Though I’m relieved to feel some of the Gales’.
There’s still a chance, even if it’s a weak one.
“Would Raiden really not bring them?” Gus asks.
“Maybe he didn’t want to risk losing any of them,” I suggest.
“Or maybe this is only round one,” Vane says quietly. “I’m not picking up any trace of Raiden, either, but there’s no way he’s not here. He’s up to something, I can feel it. I just can’t tell what it is.”
Gus runs his hands through his hair, pulling it loose from his guardian braid. “So what are we going to do?”
“There’s really only one thing we can do,” Vane says, staring up at the bird slowly circling above us.
The vulture should’ve lost track of us when we launched through the pipeline. But my mother has a way of always getting what she wants.
I guess that’s why I’m not surprised when Vane squeezes my hand tighter and tells me, “We have to go get your mom, Audra. She’s the only chance we have left.”
You really think we can trust my mother?” Audra asks, pulling away from me so quickly I lose my balance and have to sink to my knees.
“She told us she could help us, right?”
“That doesn’t mean it’s true.”
Audra calls the creepy vulture and it swoops down and lands on a rock a few feet away, letting out an evil hiss that sounds like a possessed child. Even Gus backs away as it bows its gross red, bumpy head and holds out its massive black wing so Audra can count the notches in the feathers.
“How does she even know we’re in trouble?” she asks when she’s read the message again. “She’s trapped in a Maelstrom. The wind shouldn’t be able to reach her.”
“I don’t know—maybe the birds told her. Or maybe she can feel it. Her gift is pretty powerful, right? Seems like she might be able to pick up on something this huge. I mean, look at that.”
I point to the desert, where fires are starting to break out in the rubble. Smoke is mixing with the dust and thunderheads, making it harder to see what’s going on—which is probably better. My brain doesn’t know how to process that kind of destruction.
Everything I know has just changed.
And the Storms are still raging.
“You don’t find it convenient that she’s reaching out to us now, offering us vague promises when we’re at our weakest?” Audra asks me.
“Of course I do—and it reminds me way too much of the time she used Gavin to give away our location and nearly got us killed. But what other option do we have? Our wind spikes aren’t working and the Westerlies told me they can’t help us. The Gales look like they’re failing pretty epically down there—so what else are we supposed to do?”
I can hear the panic in my voice, but I can’t choke down the fear this time—not when people are dying because of me.
“I don’t know how to stop this,” I whisper. “Do you?”
She hesitates before she mumbles, “No.”
Gus looks just as defeated.
“I think we have to let her help us, then,” I tell them. “It’s the only play we’ve got left.”
Audra looks like she’s going to agree with me—but at the last second she turns away.
“I can’t trust her, Vane. I won’t . I made that mistake my entire life. I’m not going to do it again.”
Her voice is hard, and I can tell that’s her final decision.
But she’s wrong.
Unless I’m crazy—but I don’t think I am.
“Your mom was different when I saw her,” I tell Audra quietly. “Calm, and sometimes almost . . . nice. She didn’t tell the Gales about us bonding—and she backed up the lie I’d told to cover for you being gone. She even offered to help me sleep.”
Audra laughs, though it’s much more high-pitched and squeaky than her normal laugh. “Of course she did—because she wants you to set her free. That’s how she works.”
“That’s what I figured too. But she seemed like she really regretted what she’d done. And she told me she realized that her gift had driven her crazy—like, literally crazy . The pain clouded her mind, affected how she thought.”
“And that excuses her for murdering two people in cold blood and causing my father’s death?”
“Of course not—that’s why I left her there in the Maelstrom. But it might mean it’s safe to let her out for a little bit. Especially when innocent people are dying and she might be able to help us save them.”
Audra wraps her arms around herself, fighting off a shiver. “She’s going to escape if you let her out.”
“Probably,” I agree.
I turn to Gus when she doesn’t say anything. “What do you think?”
He runs his hands through his hair before he looks at Audra. “I hate to say it, but I agree with Vane.”
Audra nods like she was expecting that. But her jaw is set, and her voice has a definite edge when she tells me, “Then I guess it’s a good thing you’re the king. I will obey whatever you decide.”
“I’d feel better if you’d agree,” I tell her.
Her eyes meet mine and her angry mask cracks. Two small tears streak down her cheeks as she whispers, “I can’t.”
Silence sits between us like a wall.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, wishing there was some magical word I could say to fix this. The best I can come up with is “You don’t have to see her. Gus and I will go—”
“No!”
Audra’s voice is so loud that the creepy vulture flaps its wings—sending a couple of nasty feathers my way. “She sent her message to me. I should be the one to go get her.”
She starts to walk away, and I jump to my feet to chase her—instantly regretting it when I fall back down. Especially since I stupidly put out my arms to catch myself.
I’m pretty sure the sound I make is like a dying hyena, and I curl into a ball in the dirt, rocking back and forth. The copper taste of blood tells me I bit my tongue as I fell—but it’s good to have something else to concentrate on besides my freaking ruined arm.
“Hey,” Audra says, kneeling beside me. “You need to rest.”
“I can’t—”
“Flying into battle when you’re barely functioning is only going to get you killed.”
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