Author: Shannon Messenger

“Why?”

“I can’t explain it all, Mom—but the person who killed my parents knows I’m here. He’s sent warriors to come get me, and they’ll be here tomorrow. So you have to get out of here, because I don’t know how big the storm will be and I won’t be able to live with myself if you or Dad gets hurt in the crosswinds.”

Her eyes get a glazed look as she processes that. Shock must be setting in.

“What about you?” she asks.

“Audra’s been training me to fight so we can protect the valley.”

“Training? The same training that dragged you home half dead?”

I squirm. “Yes. It’s been intense. But it’s going to be a hard fight. That’s why you have to get out of here.”

“Not without you.”

I almost want to smile. She’s sticking by me—even knowing what I really am.

But that’s not important right now.

“They know how to find me—which means it’s not safe to be around me.”

“Why?”

“It would take too long to explain,” Audra answers for me, and I feel my mom tense. “We’re running out of time as it is. Just trust me when I say if there were any other option, I would take it.”

“And why should I believe you?” my mom snaps. “Do you even know this girl, Vane? How do you know you can trust her? How do you know she’s not involved with these—these warriors or whatever?”

I want to tell my mom how paranoid she sounds. But my mind flashes to Audra on the pier, telling me she has a secret about my parents’ death—if that’s even what her secret was about.

Could she be a traitor?

I glance at the bracelet Audra gave me—the bracelet she hid and protected for years after salvaging it from the storm for me. “I trust Audra with my life, Mom.”

“But—”

“However you feel about me,” Audra cuts in, “I’ve sworn to protect your son at all costs. I’ll protect him with my life.”

Her stupid promise makes my heart sink with a thud.

The words have a different effect on my mom. She takes a step back from me, staring at her hands as she wrings them together. “I’m going to hold you to that promise, young lady.”

Audra nods.

I want to punch something.

“It’s time to go, Mom. Audra and I have a lot to do, and you need to put as much distance between you and this place as you can. Don’t think, don’t pack, just get somewhere safe.”

Tears well in my mom’s eyes and she wavers on her feet, like she’s not sure which way to go. “You’d better be here when I get back,” she tells me.

“I will.” I try to sound as confident as she needs me to be, but I hear the fear in my voice.

She wraps me in such a tight hug I wonder if my eyes are going to bulge out of my head. And feeling my mom’s tears soak through my shirt makes everything very, very real.

My eyes burn, but I nip that emotion in the bud before any tears form. “Go get Dad and head east. I’ll call you when the coast is clear.”

She walks to the house in a daze to grab her purse and keys. Just before she closes her car door, she turns to look at me. “I love you, Vane.”

“I love you, too. I’ll see you soon.”

“You’d better.” She glares at Audra as she says it.

Then she starts her car and backs down the driveway, never taking her eyes away from mine as she drives away.

It feels like a small part of me leaves with her.

I should call my friends—warn them to get out of town too. But what would I say?

I can’t tell them the truth.

I’ll just have to fight hard, make sure the storms don’t hit the valley floor.

Audra takes my hand.

It’s so unexpected, I can’t help turning toward her. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes are asking me to trust her.

I squeeze her hand tight. Because I do.

Then I let go and race inside to change into my only pair of jeans. I find it hard to believe it’s really going to get cold enough to need a sweatshirt, but I grab one anyway. I look around, wondering if there’s anything else I should bring. We have knives in the kitchen, but I doubt they’ll do much good. We don’t have a gun or a sword. What else do soldiers bring into battle? A first-aid kit?

I dig the kit out from under the bathroom sink and check what’s inside. I’m pretty sure any injuries we get won’t be patched up with an antiseptic wipe and a Band-Aid, so that’s pointless. And there are plenty of painkillers, but it’s not like we can take them. Not unless we want to make ourselves sick.

My heart stops.

If I need to put Audra out of commission so she can’t sacrifice herself, human medicine would do it. I’m not sure how I’ll get her to take the pills—but I shove a packet in my pocket so I’ll have them if I need them. Then I race back to find Audra.

She looks ready for battle as she paces the grove. Her jacket’s tightly buttoned, hair smoothed, windslicer strapped to her waist. I’m usually not a fan of soldier-mode Audra, but right now it’s kind of awesome. She looks fierce. Brutal. And freaking sexy.

“Ready?” she asks, offering her hand.

I’m not. But I take her hand anyway, holding tight as she wraps the drafts around us.

Standing under the blue sky, it’s hard to believe a storm is bearing down on us. But I feel a change in the winds. They whip with more urgency, their songs clipped and rushed.

They know.

The Stormers are coming.

CHAPTER 46

AUDRA

I’ve never felt so overwhelmed in my life. None of my training taught me how to survive this. But I do the best I can.

I find the ideal defensive point among the windmills, on the second-highest peak, near the shorter, two-bladed turbines. They don’t draw attention to themselves, and they all face east, making it easy for Vane to find Easterlies to use. His skills are the strongest in my native tongue. Probably because I triggered his breakthrough personally.

At first light I’ll launch a wind flare to lead the Stormers straight to the wind farm. Hopefully, that will keep their storms from spreading to the valley floor before we defeat them.

If we defeat them.

I shake the doubt away. I will defeat them. Either with my skill or by my sacrifice.

I’m prepared for either.

I’ve reviewed everything I taught Vane, made sure he’s comfortable with his commands. He can’t do much, but he can call the wind, form pipelines, stop himself from falling, and make wind spikes. There’s nothing left to do except watch the sunset and listen for some sign the Stormers are near.

I listen to the wind but hear no trace of their trail. If my mother hadn’t sent her warning, I’d have been caught completely off guard.

I have no idea what she felt to know they’re coming—or how she stalled them what little she did. But clearly she’s right. She’s far more important to the Gales than I am. No matter how hard I train, how much I push myself, I will never rival her natural talents.

This is how it should be.

Her gift matters.

Vane matters.

I don’t.

Twilight settles over the valley, painting the thin clouds with purple and blue. Some would probably call it beautiful, but to me it feels ominous. I close my eyes and concentrate on the Easterlies, listening for some solution or advice. My heritage came through for me once. Maybe it will again.

All I hear is their traditional song of change.

We’re on our own.

Vane yelps. I open my eyes to find him flailing as another dove swoops around his head.

I can’t help grinning as I rescue the poor creature.

A Windwalker afraid of birds. It has to be a first.

“What’s with that stupid thing?” Vane grumbles.

“My mother sent her.”

I stroke the dove’s neck, calming her so she’ll let me pull out her wings to check for the message. It’s strange to have the dove respond to my touch—stranger still for my mother to send a dove instead of her bitter crow.

I’d figured the first message was carried on whichever bird was closest, since it was so urgent. But this time she could’ve used any of her birds, and still she sent a dove. Her favorite of all the birds because of their almost worshipful loyalty.

There has to be a reason for the change. And I’m not sure I have the energy to cope with whatever it is.

“See the notches in the plumage?” I explain to Vane, pointing to the dove’s wings. “It’s a code my mother developed so she could send messages no one would be able to decipher. She uses the birds she’s connected with, ordering them not to rest until they deliver the message. Saves the Gales from having to send important secrets on the wind, where Raiden could hear them.”

Vane snorts. “You guys have seen the cell phone, right?”

“Yes, carrying a chemical-filled radiation machine around in my pocket all day. I can see why you’re so attached to that thing.”

He shakes his head.

I count the notches on the feathers, triple-checking each one to make sure I’m getting the message right.

“What now?” Vane asks.

“She wants to know if we’re ready.”

He rolls his eyes. “Tell her some backup would be nice.”

I ignore him as I renotch the feathers with my response, finally giving my mother an honest assessment of our predicament. She might as well know what to expect.

Vane hasn’t had the fourth breakthrough. When I make the sacrifice, you’ll need to come collect him.

Tears blur my eyes as I release the dove and watch her vanish into the dusk.

That’s the last time I’ll speak to my mother.

I didn’t say I loved her. I didn’t say goodbye.

I started to notch the words, but I couldn’t bring myself to say them. Not when I don’t know if they’re true anymore. Or if she’d even want to hear them.

I don’t know what makes me sadder—not knowing if I love my own mother, or knowing she won’t care if I don’t.

But it’s too late to change my mind. Too late to change anything.

I scrub my tears away and sink to the ground, curling my knees to my chest. Vane sits next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I should pull away—but I don’t have the energy. And there’s not much point. In a few hours it’ll all be over.

“We’re going to get through this,” he whispers.

I can’t look at him—I’m too close to breaking down to let him see my face. So I feel rather than see him turn his head and press his lips against my temple. Soft as a feather. Gentle as a breeze. Heat explodes under my skin, whipping through me like a flurry.

I hold my breath. Wondering if he’ll do more. Wondering what I’ll do if he tries.

But he sighs and turns his head away. He’s finally learned to respect my boundaries.

Too bad. I’m not sure they’re there anymore.

The Gales would banish me for such a treasonous thought—but it’s hard to care. I won’t be around long enough for them to question my loyalty.

Why not enjoy what little time I have left?

I breathe deeply, soaking up the scent of Vane’s skin. Clean and gentle, just like the Westerlies.

“How did it start?” he whispers. “The storm that killed my family. I only remember bits and pieces. I should have some idea what we’re in for,” he adds when he sees my confusion.

I pull away from him, needing space if I’m going to relive this memory. “It started with a calm. Like all the life and energy were sucked out of the world. I remember standing on our porch, staring at the sky, wondering where the winds went. Then my father grabbed my shoulders and told me to run—as far and fast as possible. Before I could, there was this . . . roar.”