I turn away, trying not to imagine Gus—smiling, handsome Gus—bloody and alone in some dark dungeon.
“Let him go,” I beg, knowing it’s pointless but needing to try. “He has nothing to give you.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Your Westerly won’t let me hurt you. But I can hurt him. And I’ll make you watch, until you tell me what I need.”
CHAPTER 5
VANE
I’m starting to worry that Os is right.
Not for attacking us. Or taking our weapons. And definitely not for tying Solana, Arella, and me to the sturdiest palms in the grove and telling us we can sweat here until we’re “ready to cooperate.”
But the fact that he was able to do all of that—and create some sort of weird vortex around us that’s spooking all the winds away—makes it pretty hard to argue that the power of pain isn’t more effective.
Come on Westerlies—time to prove you’re the big, legendary things you’re supposed to be. . . .
I close my eyes, waiting for my instincts to whisper something that will get us out of this mess. But all I hear is the creaking palms and the chirping bugs and the wails of the ruined drafts whipping past, trapping us with the heat and the swirling sand.
The sun rose a little while ago, so we’ve lost at least seven or eight hours.
Looks like I’m failing pretty epically at this “hero” thing.
“You’re going to tear your elbow out of joint again,” Solana warns as I try to squirm free of my ropes.
“If that’s what it takes to get out of here, I’ll deal with it.”
But all I’m really accomplishing is scraping the hell out of my skin.
I curse my dad for having a stockpile of industrial strength, rampaging-elephants-couldn’t-break-this-stupid-rope in our garage—though I guess I should be grateful Os didn’t use draining winds to bind us instead.
“Save your energy,” Arella tells me. “This vortex isn’t all that different from a Maelstrom. It won’t kill us—but it is slowly sapping our strength. Os is making sure I have no means of escape.”
The bitter edge to her voice reminds me that this isn’t the first time Os has held her prisoner—just the first time she didn’t deserve it.
“Why did you refuse to train with them?” I have to ask.
She’s sacrificed everything in her quest for control.
Her daughter.
Her husband.
Even her own life.
And yet, here was a chance to learn this incredible new power, and instead she chose to be tied to a tree.
Arella stares at the sky for so long I assume she’s not going to answer. But then she whispers, “I could never destroy the wind.”
Her whole body quivers with the words and I’m . . .
. . . not sure how I feel about that.
She murdered both of my parents with a couple of flicks of her wrist. Does she really think the wind is more important than them?
Then again, if even she wouldn’t cross that line . . .
I honestly have no idea how I feel about Os teaching the Gales the power of pain. I know I could never do it. And part of me wants to drag him underground and never let him near another gust of wind again.
But another part of me—a part I’m not necessarily proud of—can’t help wondering if it’s the only way we stand a chance against Raiden.
How else do you win when someone doesn’t fight fair?
“So what’s our plan?” Solana asks when I finally admit that wriggling out of these ropes isn’t going to happen.
Arella shakes her head to shoo the gnats away from her eyes. “We wait for Os to come back and convince him to let us go.”
I snort. “You really think he’s going to do that?”
“I can be very persuasive.”
She definitely can.
She’s fooled me a pathetic number of times—but she’s never managed to convince Os. He was ready to let her die in the Maelstrom. The only reason she’s still breathing is because I dragged her out, needing her alive so she could tell me what happened to Audra.
What she did to Audra, I correct.
And now she’s just standing there, waiting for a chance to try to talk her way out of this—after we’ve already lost so much time.
“That’s not good enough!” I shout, wishing I had a way to fling something at her head. “Don’t you care that Audra’s a hostage right now? That Raiden might be . . .”
I can’t say it.
Can’t even think it.
“Of course I do,” Arella says. “But caring doesn’t change anything. All it does is waste energy.”
I know she’s right.
But I hate how calm she is.
I hate her.
“This is your fault!”
“I know.” Her voice hitches, and for a second she sounds like a mother who’s actually worried about her daughter. But her tone hardens again as she tells me, “Raiden left me no choice.”
She keeps using that as her excuse, but she still hasn’t explained what Raiden threatened her with. Not that it matters—nothing matters except getting to Gus and Audra.
“We will find them,” Arella promises. “We just have to bide our time. Without the wind I have nothing except—”