“Please, Vane,” she whispers, leaning so close I can feel her hair brush my cheeks. “You’re not up for a battle. You have to stay here, where it’s safe.”
“You sure it isn’t that you just don’t want me around?” It’s mostly a joke, but she was pretty pissed a few minutes ago.
She reaches up to brush a couple pieces of hair off my forehead, not looking at me as she says, “I don’t trust my mother, but I do trust you.”
“You do?”
She nods.
That makes one of us.
“So I need you to trust me on this,” she adds quietly. “Stay here while I go release her.”
“You’re not going there alone—”
“He’s right—I’m going with you,” Gus interrupts, moving next to Audra. “But she’s right too, Vane. You had one of the worst dislocations I’ve seen. You need some time to recover.”
“But what if the guard won’t release Arella?” I argue.
I doubt they’d listen to anyone but the king.
“I’m sure her guard is fighting along with the Gales,” Gus tells me, which would explain how Arella was able to call the vulture close enough to send a message.
I try one more time to move my elbow, and it feels like someone is sawing it off with a rusty butter knife.
“Fine,” I grumble. “But if I start feeling better, I’m heading straight to the Gales to meet up with you.”
Audra sighs. “I won’t be able to stop you, but please promise you’ll only do that if you’re really up to it.”
“Only if you promise to be extra careful. If something happens . . .”
I try to swallow the fear, but it chokes me.
She cradles my face with her hands. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know. But I’m still going to worry the entire time. Do you need me to tell you how to find the Maelstrom?”
Audra points to the stupid vulture, which I’m pretty sure is sitting there hoping one of us is about to die. “Her bird will guide me.”
“Make sure you walk the last part,” I warn them. “Otherwise the winds carrying you will get sucked in.”
“Not if we fly with Westerlies,” Audra corrects. “I flew right up to Raiden’s Maelstrom in Death Valley.”
She starts to stand, but I grab her wrist with my good arm. “Promise you’ll come back safe.”
“I’ll try.”
I tighten my grip. “Promise.”
She leans down to kiss me.
It’s a fast kiss—more of a tease than anything. But it makes the wall I’d felt between us seem to vanish as she pulls her hand free.
I try not to feel like a worthless Vane-blob as Gus carries me to a spot in the shade and props me against a boulder. But I can’t help sulking as Gus wraps his arms around Audra and she forms a Westerly wind bubble.
I glower at the sky as I watch them float away.
And when they disappear into the clouds, I realize that Audra never promised to come back.
CHAPTER 40
AUDRA
E
verything about this feels wrong.
Leaving Vane alone and unprotected in the middle of nowhere.
Setting my mother free.
Even flying with Gus—though at least he seems as uncomfortable as me. He’s adjusted his hold twice already, but thanks to this dress, there’s nowhere safe to grab.
“What do you think the odds are that Vane will really stay where he is?” Gus asks as he shifts his hands to my waist, holding my bandaged side extra carefully.
“Probably about as good as my mother being a changed woman.” “So I take it you’re still pissed about setting her free?” “I just . . . know my mother.”
I know Vane wants to believe she’s different now—and maybe she was when he talked to her. But I’ve learned the hard way that any kindness or concern my mother ever shows lasts only long enough for her to get what she wants.
And now we’re about to let her have her way again. We follow my mother’s vulture toward circles of dead palm trees, and as soon as we reach them, the Westerlies carrying us turn jittery. I urge the winds to fly on, but they grow increasingly unsteady, breaking into a panic when a frenzied Easterly swarms around me.
The draft’s tone reminds me of my father’s voice, but I know there’s no way it could be him. Its desperate song begs me to turn away and never come back, and my father would never try to stop me from setting my mother free. He loved her beyond life—beyond reason—beyond air.
He would carry me there faster if he could.
“Wow, the Maelstrom sure does spook the winds,” Gus mumbles as the Easterly flies with us, repeating its warning over and over.
I continue to ignore it, and when we reach a series of strange rock formations, the vulture dives and the Easterly finally sweeps away.
We’ve reached our destination.
The other Westerlies take off the second I unravel them, but my loyal shield doesn’t waver, tightening its grip around me like it can feel the evil in the air.
I can feel it too.
The unnatural stillness.
The strange push and pull, dragging me toward the dark opening in the sand up ahead, even though every instinct I have is screaming for me to run away.