Author: Shannon Messenger

“I never knew you were such a coward,” Vane says, whipping each word at me like a sharp stone.

The words sting—more than he can know. Mainly because they’re true. I’m not brave enough to fight the Gales to be with him.

I choke back my tears.

My mother lets out another epic sigh. “When I told you to make him love you, Audra, I didn’t mean you should fall for him.”

“What?” Vane shouts, and I can’t help looking at him. “Your mother put you up to this?”

“No. It wasn’t—I’m not . . .” I send Gavin to find a perch so I can shove my stupid hair out of my face. The wind keeps blowing it in my eyes. “I’m not up for this conversation.”

He snorts. “Right. Enough said. In fact, I’ll make this really easy for you.”

He stalks away, and when he’s vanished into the darkness, my mother approaches me. Her face is painted with sympathy, but I know underneath it she’s probably thinking, Look how Audra screwed things up again.

“He’ll lick his wounds and get over it. No permanent harm done,” she tells me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I shove her arm away. Even if she is sincere, she hasn’t earned the right to suddenly act like a loving mother.

And maybe she’s right—maybe it’s a good thing. But the thought of Vane moving on makes me physically ill. So does knowing he’s somewhere in the shadows, thinking I was only pretending to care.

“Been a rough few days?” my mother asks as I sink to the ground, resting my back against the cold base of a windmill.

“You could say that.”

“Well, unfortunately, it’s only going to get harder.” Her hand moves to her golden cuff, rubbing the intricate blackbird. “There’s another reason I’m here—I just didn’t want to say it in front of Vane. Didn’t want to worry him.”

Right. Only I get to worry.

I stare her down, refusing to ask a follow-up question. I’m tired of having her control the flow of our conversations.

She closes her eyes and reaches up, waving her hands through the air. “There’s something different about these Stormers. Something unnatural in the way they work. So much unrest in the winds.”

Pain seeps into her features and she doubles over, hugging her legs as her whole body shakes and a faint groan slips through her lips.

I’ve never seen the winds affect her so strongly, and by the time I realize I should probably try to steady her, shield her—like my father always did—she’s already straightened up. But her arms clutch her stomach like she might be sick.

“I don’t know what anything I’m feeling means,” she gasps through ragged breaths. “But I think it’s safe to say we’re in for quite a fight.”

“Then maybe I should use the emergency call.”

“No!” Her sharp tone echoes off the windmills, and her fingers resume rubbing the blackbird on her cuff, like she’s trying to calm herself before continuing. “The Gales can’t spare any guardians—how many times do I have to tell you? They’re spread too thin as it is. You have no idea.”

She starts to pace, moving in and out of shadows as she does. “I can’t believe Vane didn’t have the last breakthrough. You should have pushed him harder.”

“Any harder and he’d be dead. I forced three breakthroughs in twenty-four hours—and the winds almost drew him away. I brought him to the west and surrounded him with Westerlies. He even breathed part of one in—but it pulled him so deep into his consciousness he almost disappeared. I had to release his memories to bring him back.”

Gavin screeches as she runs over to me and grabs my shoulders. “You released his memories?”

I stare at her thin fingers cutting into my skin. Just like when I told her my father sent me his gift, all those years ago. “Why?”

Her lips part, then freeze. She lets go of me and turns away. “I just . . . always thought that was our last chance. That maybe his parents had taught him something that would help him find his heritage. But if you released his memories and he still didn’t have the breakthrough . . .”

Her voice fades away.

I rub my shoulders, trying to keep up with my mother’s erratically shifting moods. I’ve never seen her so unstable. She seems almost . . . lost. Fragile.

Gavin’s vivid eyes glint at me through the darkness. “Why did you bring him here?”

She turns to face me but doesn’t meet my eyes. “When I got your message, I followed your trace, but it led me to your home. I didn’t realize you’d been living in such a . . .”

“Hovel?” I finish when she doesn’t.

She nods. She looks at me then, and there’s something in her expression I’ve never seen before. Takes me a second to realize it’s pity.

Or maybe regret.

“You couldn’t find anywhere better?” she asks after a second.

I shrug. Honestly, I didn’t look. I didn’t need comfort. I needed to do my job.

She wrings her hands. “Well, I saw Gavin there, and . . . I thought maybe it was time to make peace.”

I have to lock my jaw to keep it from dropping.

I know the meaning of each and every word she said, but strung together and coming from my mother’s lips they might as well be a foreign language.

“Were you really prepared to make the sacrifice?” she whispers.

“I made my oath. I intend to keep it.”

She’s silent long enough to make me fidget, and her fingers rub so hard at her cuff I’m surprised bits of black don’t flake away.

“What?” I finally ask.

“Nothing. Just . . . you really are your father’s daughter.”

The words feel warm.

That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.

“You two were always like the clouds and the sky—a perfect pair. Sometimes I didn’t know where I belonged in the mix.”

I can’t read her tone. The words are sad, but she sounds more . . . hurt.

I clear my throat. “The sky would be empty without the birds.”

She reaches toward me, like she’s trying to feel me out the same way she does with the winds. But she doesn’t step closer.

I close my eyes, concentrating on the winds surging across my skin, whipping through my loose hair. They sing of the tiny steps that bring about change. Ripples in a pond.

I’m not sure I’m ready to break the surface.

“We should send Gavin home,” I say. “He might get in the way.”

My mother drops her arm and nods. “I’ll take care of it.”

She calls Gavin, and as he flaps at her shoulder I’m surprised to realize that I trust her.

I turn to walk away—then turn back and clear my throat. “Thank you for coming to help.”

A few endless seconds pass. Then my mother whispers back, “You’re welcome.”

It’s a small, reluctant step. But maybe with time it will lead us somewhere better.

CHAPTER 49

VANE

We were So. Freaking. Close.

One more second and I would’ve finally known what it feels like to kiss the girl I love.

The red lights of the windmills wink at me through the darkness. Almost like they’re mocking me. I want to scream or throw things or . . . I don’t know, just something.

I kick the nearest windmill.

Pain shoots through my foot, and I force myself to sit down before I get really stupid and go confront Audra again.

I lean against the windmill and rub my throbbing foot. My eyes focus on my copper bracelet, remembering the careful way Audra clasped it around my wrist—after saving it for me for ten years.

She couldn’t have been pretending. Our connection goes too deep for that. And I can’t believe she would’ve come so close to kissing me if it was all an act.

But if it’s real, why can’t she screw her stupid rules and let me in? How can she choose the Gales over me?

Round and round my mind goes, trying to make some sense of the Audra roller coaster I’ve been riding. I’m not sure how much longer I can deal with the emotional whiplash.

The hours pass and I fight to stay awake through the dark silence. But after so many sleepless nights and endless days, I can’t stop myself from sinking into a dream.

I stumble through the storm. Icy flurries make me shiver. Twisting drafts push and pull, trying to knock me down or rip me away. Somehow I know where to step, how to move, how to keep my feet on the uneven ground.

“Mom?” I shout for the millionth time, my throat raw and dry. “Dad?”

The wind carries my pointless calls away. I lean into the gusts and press forward, ignoring the panic that rises in my throat and makes me want to throw up.

I’ll find them. Everything will be okay.

Two dim shapes blur through the storm and I race after them as fast as my legs will go. “Mom? Dad?”

I fight my way closer, but I still can’t really see them. A wall of wind separates us—a storm within the storm.

I don’t know if it’s safe to push through, but I have to get to my parents. I charge the winds and fall through an icy waterfall of air into the inner vortex, tumbling across the ground.

I rub the dirt and debris out of my eyes. My heart sinks.

It isn’t my parents.

I recognize Audra’s mom. But the man is a stranger. I’m about to cry for help when I notice the dark cloud sewn to the sleeve of his gray uniform. A storm cloud.

I cover my mouth to block my scream at the same second he shouts something I don’t understand and dark strands of wind tangle around Audra’s mom, jerking her off the ground.

“You can’t kill me,” she yells as she contorts her body and slips one arm free. “Don’t you know who I am?”

He laughs. “You’re not as powerful as you think.”

She starts to shout something, but he wraps a thick draft across her mouth, gagging her with the wind.

“Let’s see how powerful you are now.” He tightens the drafts and lifts her higher off the ground.

I stumble forward, planning to shove him so he’ll get distracted and she can escape. Before I get there, she raises her free arm, bends her fingers into a clawlike grip, and flicks her wrist.

A rush of wind lifts the Stormer and slams him into the ground, breaking his hold on the winds and releasing Audra’s mom. She lands with a thud, unable to stop her fall in time.

They both lie still.

Then the Stormer scrambles to his feet, wiping blood off his chin. “That’s a neat trick. But I’ve got a better one.” He wraps the drafts around his body, forming a thick shell that covers everything but his face. “Now I’m as indestructible as my storm.”

She laughs, a dark, bitter sound that turns everything inside me cold as she pulls herself upright. “You’re vulnerable in other ways.”

She sweeps her arm and flicks her wrist again.

For a second nothing happens. Then somewhere else in the storm I hear a faint wail of pain.

Another Stormer?

“What have you done?” the Stormer screams, dropping to his knees.

Her features twist with fury. “Raiden has no idea who he’s messing with.”

She raises her arm again. But that’s when she notices me.

Her eyes lock with mine and in her moment of distraction the Stormer tangles her in gusts and launches her high into the full force of the funnel. The winds suck her into the darkness.

The Stormer shouts something at the winds wrapped around him and blasts toward where the other scream came from.

I run the opposite way.

The winds around me rage, making my skin ripple from the force. I claw my way toward the edge of the vortex right as another scream pierces through the storm. A higher-pitched scream.

Audra.

I try to dodge the flying trees and broken pieces of house and rocks as I run, but some of them catch me. Blood oozes down my legs and arms as she screams again and I follow the sound. I finally find her tied to the wall of the tornado, bound by the winds. Stuff flies at her head—branches and rocks and bits of who knows what. She needs help.