Arella stares at the sky. “Raiden took her—but I didn’t have a choice! He told me to call Audra or he’d . . .”
“Or he’d what? Kill you?” I ask, wishing Solana would step aside so I could strangle Arella myself. For once I think I’d be able to. “Looks like he tried to do that anyway.”
“There are some things worse than death, Vane. And I knew Audra had the power of four. I thought she’d be strong enough to fight Raiden. I didn’t think he’d be able to take her.”
“Take her where?” I yell as she closes her eyes, shivering again.
“I’m not sure. It feels like he built a pipeline right there”—she points to a dent in the sand about a hundred yards away—“and launched her and Gus somewhere very far away. I’m guessing his fortress in the mountains. That’s where he always took the others.”
I want to cry, scream, punch something really hard. But I don’t have time for a meltdown. If Gus and Audra are in Raiden’s prison, I have to go—now. “Where is his fortress?”
“You can’t go after her, Vane.”
“Tell me where it is!” My scream echoes off the foothills, but Arella doesn’t even blink.
“I can take you,” Solana offers quietly. “I know the way to that city better than anyone. We can leave as soon as you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.”
She touches my wounded arm—her fingers barely brushing the skin—and a sharp pain ripples through my body. “You’re hurt, Vane. You need to get treated.”
“I need to get to Audra.”
“She might not be in as much danger as you think,” Arella interrupts, and I swear if I had the energy I would drag her back down to her cell.
“She’s with Raiden!”
“Yes, but . . . I don’t think she has what he wants anymore.” She closes her eyes, waving her hands through the air. “Don’t you feel it?”
“Feel what?”
It almost looks like she’s smiling as she tells me, “She broke your bond.”
I clutch my chest, trying not to believe her.
But I don’t feel any sort of pull.
And is that why her trace feels so weird in the air?
A tear streams down my cheek before I can blink it away, and I realize I’m leaning on Solana way more than I want to. “Why would she do that? Why would she . . .”
But I know the answer.
“To protect the Westerlies,” I whisper.
Audra would never let the fourth language fall into Raiden’s hands. So if she was afraid she couldn’t protect it, she would just get rid of it.
“Does it even work that way? Can she forget it completely?” I whisper, not sure what answer I’m hoping for.
“I don’t know,” Arella admits, closing her eyes. “I didn’t know bonds could share languages. But it feels like it.”
Everything is spinning too fast and I . . .
“So, we’re not bonded anymore?” I ask as Solana helps me sit on the sand.
“She isn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
God—for once could she just answer a question completely?
“It means that you’re no longer a part of her. But she’s still a part of you. Unless you decide to let go. . . .”
She rubs the skin on her wrist, where her bracelet used to be.
Her link.
I always thought it was sad the way Arella clung to her connection to her husband, despite the fact that he was gone.
Now it gives me hope.
I’ll be holding on to Audra with every ounce of strength I have left.
I close my eyes, taking slow breaths.
I will get Audra back. And I’m going to bring Gus back too.
But to do that we have to move fast.
Every second counts.
AUDRA
I t’s cold in the tower.
Chilled air seeping through the bars of my narrow window. Thick frost coating everything I touch.
Raiden offered me a blanket when he tossed me onto the rough stone floor and barred the heavy iron door. But the only thing I want is my freedom, and since he’s not willing to give that, I’ll find a way to take it.
I’ve combed the walls for the guide Aston mentioned, but he must’ve carved it into a different cell. Maybe the one Gus is locked in. Wherever it is, I’ll find it.
In the meantime I keep my back to the wall, never sleeping— barely breathing. Listening to the mournful wails of the broken Northerlies and promising myself that when Raiden comes for me, I’ll be ready.
He doesn’t believe the secret is lost.
It’s why he’s kept me alive.
Why he’s kept Gus alive.
Waiting for the right time to break me.
But it’s gone.
Everything is gone.
Everything except the gentle breeze I can still feel brushing my skin. Wrapping around me. Still determined to shield me. I don’t deserve its loyalty.
But in this dark, frozen place, far away from the warmth and peace and things that hurt too much to think about, it helps to have something to hold on to.
And even though I can’t understand the words it sings, I have a feeling I know the theme of its melody.
Hope.
VANE
T