When?
I don’t know the answer to that, either. But I know it’s not now. And that makes all the difference.
I’ve been caged and silenced for ten years.
It’s time for me to sing.
I reach up and unravel my braid, letting my hair fall loose. The wavy strands hurt as I smooth them against my scalp. But the pain only lasts a minute. Then I’m free.
I slip my jacket off my shoulders and run my hands over the thick fabric.
I’m not a guardian anymore. It’s time to be me—whoever that is.
So I call three Easterlies and give each draft a single word to hold as I coil them around my jacket. I wrap the package tight—then send it to the sky and let the wind carry it away.
Vane will understand.
I hope.
Tears well in my eyes, but I blink them back.
This is my choice. The first choice I’ve made for me—and only me—in as long as I can remember.
The second comes now.
I call the Easterly laced with my father’s song and coil it around me, ready to let it sweep me into the clouds. But it’s not what I need anymore.
I send it away and reach for a Westerly.
The smooth, gentle draft rushes across my skin and I open my mind to its unfamiliar song.
It sings of rest. Of hope.
I beg the draft to take me away, humming along to the melody, like when I used to sing with my father.
I don’t know where I’m going. But it’s time to find my peace.
CHAPTER 59
VANE
My little chat with the guardian ran longer than I planned.
He didn’t want to accept that his Gales don’t get to run my life anymore. But then I showed him a few of my newly discovered tricks and he realized he didn’t have the power to control me. Not to mention, the Gales need me—now more than ever. So I got to make a few demands, number one of which was an immediate termination of my betrothal.
I didn’t tell him why—and I don’t care if he guesses. All that matters is that he agreed.
I also get to stay with my parents.
That one he agreed with right away—said it was important to appear strong. No more running. No more hiding. The Gales will set up base in the dunes nearby to support me. But now that I’ve had the fourth breakthrough, it’s time to make a stand. They expect Raiden to lie low for now, anyway. He’ll wait to see what I can do, how powerful I am, before he attacks again.
So I’m safe.
Sorta.
Which is probably the best I’ll get, as far as Raiden is concerned. Until he’s gone. And the Gales still expect me to be the one to take him down. I don’t know what to do with that crazy piece of information, but I’ve decided it doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with it when the time comes. Not a second sooner.
The sun has set and the sky glows with oranges and reds when I’m dropped off in my front yard. The house is dark. I need to call my parents and tell them I’m safe—that they can come home. But not until I talk to Audra.
I check inside, half-hoping I’ll catch her in the middle of a shower. Or stretched out in my bed. But the rooms are silent. Empty.
I roll my eyes at Audra’s stubbornness and take off toward the trees. If she thinks I’m going to let her sleep in a roach-infested pile of dead leaves tonight, she’s lost her mind.
The grove is quiet as I run. Too quiet.
I call for her when the pale, broken walls of her house come into view.
She doesn’t answer.
I slow to a stop and focus on the winds, reaching for her trace. Our bond makes the connection so strong, I feel a physical tug in my gut, drawing me to her. But it’s pulling me two ways. A small, weak part of me is lured toward the burned-down house. The rest of me is drawn away. I can’t tell where or why. But it’s somewhere west. Far beyond my reach.
“Audra,” I call again.
Still no response.
Leaves—or maybe bugs—crunch under my feet as I enter the house, and it’s the only sound filling the empty, lifeless space. Until Gavin screeches.
My heart stutters and I curse the stupid bird as he flaps his wings from his perch on the windowsill. His beady orange eyes look almost red as they watch me, and I have no doubt he’s wondering the same thing I am.
Where’s Audra?
That’s when I notice the bubble of winds floating in the corner.
Her trace is laced through every draft, and something dark hovers in the center. My stomach knots.
I step closer, telling myself it isn’t what I think it is. But I can see the gold buttons glinting through the rushing air.
Maybe this is some elaborate Windwalker striptease, I try to convince myself as I reach through the winds to grab the jacket. But I can feel everything inside me sink as the winds uncoil and brush my face. They whisper the three words she left me as a message.
Be. Home. Soon.
I know her too well to miss her meaning. Especially since I can still feel her pull in the wind. Slipping farther west with every second.
I fling the jacket across the room.