Let the Storm Break (19 page)

“Hey, I’m going to fight right along with you,” Solana argues.
“No, you’ll be defending yourself and storing winds for the rest of us to use—which is a very useful tool,” Os tells her. “But it’s
not
the same as being the
hero
.”
Solana’s eyes narrow, and I can understand her fury. I know what it feels like to be underestimated.
But I also agree with Os.
Solana’s a trophy, meant to be paraded around and admired.
Not respected and loyally obeyed.
Not that I deserve respect or loyalty either.
“Raiden stirred the seeds of rebellion among our people,” Os adds quietly. “Even when he’s gone, there will be some who remain. So we need a ruler who is as feared as he is respected. Someone so powerful that no one would dare try to steal the throne again.” He turns back to Vane, sizing him up with his stare. “I’m still not convinced that you can be that warrior. But you’re the best chance we have. The throne
will
fall to you.”
“Well then, I guess I don’t need this,” Solana mumbles as she unclasps her gold cuff and sets it on the floor, backing away from it like it carries a disease.
“Not necessarily,” Os tells her, bending down and retrieving the link. “This matter is far from settled.”
“Uh—yeah it is,” Vane corrects.
“Trust me when I tell you it isn’t.” Os walks over to Solana and clamps the bracelet back on her wrist.
Her
left
wrist this time, like their commitment is already sealed
.
Solana frowns. “But . . . they’re
bonded
.”
“Yes,” Os says, looking straight at me. “And bonds can be broken.”

CHAPTER 31

VANE

I

know I’m new to this Windwalker stuff—but one of the few things I was pretty sure I had figured out was that bonds are
permanent
. I thought that was why Audra spent so much time ruining my

dates and turning me into a huge joke at school—and why it took so freaking long to convince her to finally kiss me.

And yet, Audra doesn’t seem
nearly
as surprised by this revelation as I am. If anything she looks . . . worried.
“Is that true?” I whisper, giving her the cue to tell me it’s a mistake.
The fact that she won’t look at me says it all.
I sink to the edge of my bed, my head spinning too much to stay standing. “You told me bonds couldn’t be broken!”
“I thought they couldn’t,” she admits. “But Aston said—” “Wait, you saw Aston?” Os interrupts. “He’s alive?”
She nods.
Os gazes into space for a second—then reels on Gus. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I guess I forgot. A
lot
happened yesterday.”
“Yes . . . I suppose it did.” Os sighs and turns back to Audra. “When did you see him?”
“About three days ago.”
Os steps closer, grabbing Audra’s wrist. “Can you take me there?”
She pulls her hand free and sits next to me on the bed. I can’t help noticing how high my shirt creeps up her thigh, but the mood is kind of killed when she whispers, “He’s
not
the Gale you remember, Os. Raiden tortured and twisted him into someone incredibly unstable—and incredibly powerful. He conquered me without ever having to step out of the shadows of his cave, and if he hadn’t chosen to let me go, I would still be his captive.”
“But he
did
let you go, didn’t he?” Os asks.
“He did,” she admits. “And I’m still not sure why.”
She stares at a faint blister on her wrist, and I don’t think I want to know how she got it. If he hurt her I’ll—
“We need to find him,” Os says.
Audra shakes her head. “He told me he would kill anyone who comes near his hideout—and believe me, he’s capable.”
“All the more reason why we need to get him back on our side.”
“Okay, can we back up a second?” I interrupt. “We can deal with psycho cave boy
after
you explain what the crap you mean about bonds being broken
.
”
“Actually, we should be planning for Raiden’s attack,” Os corrects.
He’s right—we should. But he can’t just drop that kind of bombshell and not explain. “We’ll plan in a minute.”
“I thought it was pretty self-explanatory,” Os says after glaring at me for a few seconds. “Bonds can be broken. Simple as that.”
“But . . . how?” Gus asks, and I’m glad to see that he and Solana look as confused as me.
Meanwhile, Audra’s staring sadly at the floor. . . .
“What do you know?” I whisper.
She steals a glance at Os before she turns to me.“Aston told me that
anything
can be broken if you’re willing to harness the power of pain.”
My mouth goes dry.
“Pain?”
“I’m sure the process is rather unpleasant, yes,” Os agrees.
“Well then, fun as that sounds, I’ll pass.”
A sad smile peeks from the corners of Os’s mouth. “I never said it would be your choice, Vane. We let you believe we were canceling your betrothal because we thought it would make you less resistant to Solana, and that once you got to know her you’d change your mind. But just because that didn’t work doesn’t mean we’re changing our plans. You may be king, but your opinion isn’t the only one that matters—not when it comes to what’s best for our people. And it’s better for everyone if you’re with Solana.”
“So . . . what? You’re going to chain me up and torture my bond out of me?” I feel dizzy just saying it—and he can bet I’ll go all power of four on him if he tries.
Os looks away. “If you leave us no other choice.”
“Whoa,” Gus breathes.
“Is there a problem, Guardian Gusty?” Os asks.
Gus swallows, looking like he wishes he hadn’t said that out loud. “That just sounds . . . kind of cruel, sir.”
“Cruel?”
“Yeah. Torturing two of our own because they fell in love sounds more like something Raiden would do.”
“The pain only lasts a few minutes.”
I snort. “Right—because
that
makes it better.”
Os ignores me. “Have you ever broken a bone, Gus?”
Gus nods. “My left ankle, when I was first learning to windwalk.”
“Ah, yes, I remember. That was quite a fall. And tell me this, did it hurt when they set the bone?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And yet, it made your ankle heal properly, didn’t it? Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to walk now, right?”
“Yes, but”—Gus shifts his weight—“that’s not the same as what you’re saying.”
“But it is, Gus. Sometimes pain is necessary to fix a problem that cannot otherwise be corrected. It’s unpleasant and unfortunate, but then it’s over and everything is set right.”
“Do you hear yourself?” I shout. “I bet that’s the kind of crap Raiden spews out to his Stormers to try and justify the evil things he does.”
Os stalks toward me. “Raiden cares only for his own selfish needs.
I
am thinking about the good of our people. Trying to bring together the shattered pieces of our world.”
“And who put
you
in charge?”
“Nobody.” He steps back, clutching his blue guardian pendant. “This matter will be brought to the full force of the Gales, and
they
will decide. I’ll simply be one vote. However, they’re a very reasonable group of soldiers. I have no doubt they’ll decide what will benefit everyone.”
“Everyone except me and Audra.’”
“With time you’ll see that isn’t the case. You two were not meant to be.”
“Can I say something?” Solana asks, her voice shaking as much as her legs as she steps forward. “I don’t want to bond with someone who’s being
forced
to do it. If Vane loved me”—she clears her throat—“or if there were a way to keep my family’s heritage without us having to be together, well . . . that would be different. But if Vane really needs to be the king and I’m not who he wants to be with, then . . . I guess that’s how it has to be.”
Her eyes dart to mine, so sad and broken that a part of me can’t help wishing I could love her.
But I just
can’t
feel that way
.
Not when I know what
real
love feels like.
“Another young person thinking they have a choice in all this,” Os says through a sigh. “Though I notice you’re being awfully quiet, Audra. Feeling guilty now that you’re seeing the consequences of your selfish actions?”
“Actually, I’m trying to figure out how you know about the power of pain. Aston gave me the impression it was one of
Raiden’s
tricks, and not something the Gales knew anything about.”
Os steps closer, pointing to the scar under his eye. “It’s no secret that I know Raiden better than others. Back when we were friends, he used to share some of his theories with me—it was partly how I knew to distance myself from him. And when he started attacking us with shattered winds, I knew it meant he’d proven at least one of his theories correct.”
“And now you want to use it—knowing it’s one of
his
tricks?” Audra asks, standing up to face him. “Don’t you realize how it will affect you?”
“Affect me?”
She steps closer. “Aston told me the power corrupts anyone who uses it. It becomes an addiction you can’t cure, can’t fight, can’t satisfy except to break and destroy more—and after seeing how he behaved, I believe him.”
“Sounds like someone with a guilty conscience trying to blame his wickedness on another.”
“Or perhaps you’re just tempted by a greater power than you understand.”
“Watch yourself,” Os says, his scar twisting with his scowl so it looks more like an X. “Given your recent crimes, you would do well to be as polite and obedient as possible.”
“Why?” I ask, stepping between them. “You already threatened to break our bond—what’s next? Lock us underground in your Maelstrom?”
The word makes Os freeze, and for a second his mouth just hangs there, begging for a fly to zip in.
I’m just as stunned when I realize the mess I’ve walked into.
I turn to Audra, feeling my heart sink when I see the horror in her eyes.
“Do you mean the Maelstrom in Death Valley?” she asks me.
“No,” I say slowly, trying to choose my answer carefully. “Os built one in Desert Center.”
I don’t mention who he’s keeping there, hoping she won’t guess. But her whole body starts shaking.
“You built a
Maelstrom
?” she asks Os, leaning on me to stay standing.
“I had no choice!”
“Wait, when you say Maelstrom . . .” Gus starts, but his voice trails off when I nod. “Whoa.”
“Yeah.” I pull Audra closer, silently begging everyone to drop this.
Now
is not the time to give Audra anything else to worry about.
But Audra isn’t letting it go.
“How could you?” she yells at Os. “How could you do that to the wind? To innocent people?”
“Who said anything about
innocent
?” he snaps. “The only person trapped in my Maelstrom is a violent murderer who used her gift to nearly escape—twice—from our regular prison.”
Audra sucks in a breath, and I tighten my arms around her, wanting to hold her steady as she puts the pieces together.
She pulls away from me, stumbling to my window and staring blankly outside.
I should’ve found a way to tell her before this.
She should’ve heard it from me.
But even now, I have no idea how to say it.
“What prisoner is he talking about?” Solana asks when no one says anything.
I open my mouth, trying to force out the words. But I can see in Audra’s eyes that she already knows.
She reaches out her hand, letting a small mockingbird land on her finger as she whispers, “My mother.”

CHAPTER 32

AUDRA
M

y mother is in a Maelstrom.
I . . . don’t know what to feel.
I stare at the tiny bird roosting on my finger—drawn

to me because of the gift my mother and I share—and try not to imagine her gray-blue, withered body dangling from the ceiling on a chain, her limbs twisted and tangled, her face contorted with agony.

I knew her punishment would be severe. But I never imagined . . .
“How long does she have left?” I whisper, wondering if I really want to know the answer.
The tiny bird tenses as Vane comes up behind me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “She was only guessing when I talked to her. But she thought maybe a few weeks.”

Weeks.

My hand shakes so hard the bird flies away, and I grasp the windowsill to steady my balance.
“Did she look . . .” I can’t even ask. I don’t want to picture it.
Vane spins me around and pulls me against him. “She looked weaker,” he whispers. “Kind of pale and greasy. But not like someone who’s . . .”
“Dying,” I finish for him.
My mother is dying.
A slow, painful, horrifying death.
But she’s a murderer,
I remind myself.
A cold, cruel monster who killed Vane’s parents and cost my father his life and let me blame myself for all of it.
And if I’d been weaker, she would’ve killed me.
But . . . does that mean she deserves to be eaten alive by the winds?
The winds.
“How could you do that?” I ask, turning to Os. “How could you ruin the wind?”
I can still hear the Easterly’s mindless wailing after Aston shattered it in front of me—still remember the restless spinning of the devouring winds in the Maelstrom.
“I thought my heart might break along with them,” Os whispers. “But my first priority is to protect
our people
, and your mother was uncontainable without the Maelstrom. I used the absolute bare minimum of winds that I could, stopping the second I had enough.”
“And how many was that?” I ask.
Os’s hand darts to his scar, his fingers tracing the thin red lines. “Twelve.”
Twelve.
Twelve times he called the wind to his side.
Twelve times he let them sweep around him like loyal friends, then watched them writhe and scream before their songs fell silent.
Tears blur my vision and I don’t want to smear them away. I don’t want to look at the man who could do something that horrible
twelve
times.
But the tears fall on their own when Os tells me, “Believe me, their cries will haunt me until my dying day. And I keep hoping that there’s a way to restore them. Perhaps with the power of four, or . . . just, somehow. I refuse to believe they’ll forever be this way.”
I can hear his grief in every crack in his voice.
He doesn’t seem like the power-crazed monster Aston described, but . . .
Hadn’t he been threatening to break our bond only a few minutes ago?
Aston sent me to Death Valley so I could see Raiden’s Maelstrom—see the depths of his horrors and the level the Gales would have to sink to in order to defeat him.
Is that what’s happening?
My knees can’t seem to hold me any longer, but Vane catches me and carries me to the bed. He lays me down and I want to pull the blankets over my head and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist. I settle for pulling him next to me and leaning against his side, soaking up as much of his heat as I can.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
I’m not sure how to answer.
I feel like I’ve just found out the sky is green, and can never see blue the same way again.
Os clears his throat. “We’re wasting precious time. None of this is going to help us face down Raiden.”
“You’re right,”Vane agrees after a second. “But we
will
be talking about all of this with the Gales when we’re done. No more secrets— for any of us.”
“As you wish, Your Highness,” Os says, his voice almost sounding sincere as he dips his head in a bow.
That’s when I realize why my world has turned sideways.
Not because of my mother. I lost the
real
her years ago in the same storm that stole my father.
Because of Os.
I don’t trust him.
I’ve dedicated my entire life to the service of the Gales—sacrificed food, water, even my childhood.
But I believe what Aston told me about ruining the winds coming at a cost.
No matter how careful Os was, he will still have to pay it.
“So . . . I guess we’re ready to go,” Vane’s mom says from the doorway, startling me back to the present.
She stands next to Vane’s dad, suitcases piled at their feet along with a thick stack of books.
Vane smiles sadly. “I don’t think you’ll need the family photo albums.”
“We thought it might be a good idea this time to bring the things we can’t replace,” she says quietly, and from the way she’s staring at Vane I can tell she wants to shove him in her bag and take him with her.
Instead she runs over and strangles Vane with a hug until he reminds her that he needs to breathe and she finally lets him go.
I’m completely caught off guard when she throws her arms around me.
“Take care of yourself, too,” she whispers.
Tears burn my eyes and I find myself hugging her tight before she pulls away. “We’ll see you soon.”
“You’d better,” Vane’s dad says before he wraps his arms around us both. “Try not to destroy the house.”
Vane forces a laugh. “Dang, there goes all my plans.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” his mom says, lifting a tattered shred of black fabric from the top of her suitcase. “I’m so sorry. I guess your clothes can’t go in the washing machine. . . .”
It takes me a second to realize the scrap she’s holding is what’s left of my uniform, and another after that to realize my mistake. I’d forgotten that groundlings use machines for their washing instead of water and air. Our porous fabric must not be able to hold up.
“It’s fine,” I tell her, even though I have no idea what I’ll wear now. My shelter had nowhere to hide possessions, so I only had the one uniform. “I’ll figure something out. Maybe the Gales have an extra—”
“We’ve been keeping all the supplies at the Dustlands Base,” Os interrupts. “It’s an hour away from here.”
“I still have your jacket,” Vane offers, pointing to a crushed pile of black on the floor next to his bed. “But that’s probably not going to help much.”
“I’m sure I can make your mother’s pants work if I have a belt.”
Solana lets out a slow, heavy sigh. “Or, I have a few extra dresses.”
She doesn’t
actually
offer them, but Vane still tells her, “That would be
awesome
!” and before I can argue, she nods like it’s settled.
Vane’s parents rush through a teary goodbye—making Vane promise he’ll remember to text them this time. Then the house is quiet and Vane watches from his window as they drive away.
The tense line of his shoulders makes me want to hug him. But Solana turns to me. “My stuff ’s in the living room.”
She looks about as thrilled with this arrangement as I am, which somehow makes it easier to follow her down the hall. Until she shows me my choices.
One is nothing more than a tube of shiny teal—and not nearly enough of that. Another is sheer peach and dips almost as low in the front as it does in the back. And the third is bright red.
I’m positive it would take the fabric from all three to actually cover me—especially considering I’m at least two inches taller than her. But clearly the point of these dresses is to be
seen.
And to catch the eye of a certain Westerly king.
The thought has me reaching for the red one, though I tell myself it’s mostly because it looks longer than the others.
I realize on my way to the bathroom that I’d forgotten about my black shifting dress, tucked away in the eave of my old shelter. I want to believe that I don’t switch to that because I don’t want to waste any time—and
not
because I want Vane to see me in something new. But if I’m being honest, the thought
did
cross my mind.
Apparently I
am
turning into one of “those girls.”
I’m even more disgusted with myself when I slip the silky red fabric over my head and glance in the mirror. The V of the neckline dips low enough to make me blush, and the thin straps tie around my neck, leaving my shoulders—and most of my back—bare. The sides at least come up high enough to cover my bandage, and the skirt is longer than the other dress options—but only in the back. In the front it cuts much higher, and the flowy design has me wondering what I’m supposed to do if I catch an updraft.
But the truly horrifying part is that I can’t help imagining Vane’s reaction when he sees me. I want to believe he’ll be pleased—but what if he isn’t?
What if he thinks I look as ridiculous as I feel?
I’m this close to raiding his mom’s closet—she’s only a few sizes bigger than me, surely there’s
something
I can make work—when I step under the vent in the ceiling. The air sinks effortlessly through the thin material, cooling my skin and giving me a boost of strength.
Sylph fabrics breathe better than groundling ones—and I’m going to need all the energy I can get. Embarrassing as it is, this dress is my best option.
I start to braid my hair, but that leaves
far
too much skin on display, so I smooth the strands as best as I can and force myself to walk away from the mirror.
Solana’s waiting for me outside the bathroom, and her frustrated sigh makes my lips curl into a smile.