Let the Sky Fall (21 page)

Several seconds pass. Then he nods.

I release the breath I’d been holding. At least he’s willing to try—unlike his parents.

Bitterness rises in my throat, but I swallow it.

They were true Westerlies. They spoke the tongue. Rode the winds. Of course their instincts were stronger than Vane’s. He can’t even hear the Westerlies’ call. I never thought that would be a good thing—but maybe it is.

“You ready?” I ask him, squinting at the sky. The sun blazes through the cloudless blue, and soon the last of the morning winds will flee to the mountains.

He stands. His legs are shaky, but his eyes are determined. “Yes.”

I teach him how to meld wind spikes, and I make him practice his aim. He looks queasy with every toss, but I remind him that an accurate aim will be safer. Less chance of hitting an innocent bystander.

After that, his throws rarely miss their mark.

It gives me hope.

The world isn’t black and white, like his parents treated it. Violence sometimes has its place—its purpose. Maybe if they’d accepted that, they could have survived the Stormer’s attack. Lived to see their son grow up. Helped stop Raiden from destroying the world as we know it.

Instead, the responsibility rests on Vane. If I can get him to see the shades of gray, maybe he’ll be the first Westerly to stand up to Raiden. The first Westerly to survive.

His shirt turns a midnight blue from the sweat, and I make him rest in what little shade the walls of my shelter provide. The last
thing I need is him taking it off again—even if a small part of me wouldn’t mind another glimpse of his sculpted muscles.

I sit next to him. Our legs touch, but I don’t pull away. “How are you holding up?”

He gives a shaky shrug.

I place my hand on his arm. “Try to remember, if you don’t stop the Stormers, they’ll launch tornadoes into this valley. Hundreds—or thousands—of innocent people will die. People you know. People you love. You’re doing this to save those innocent lives.”

The silence seems to stretch.

“So you have no problem with . . . killing?” he asks.

“No. But I’m an Easterly.”

“The swift, tricky winds,” he recites. “What does that even mean?”

“Easterlies are survivors. They do whatever needs to be done.”

“So you would kill?”

His stare is intense—but not judging.

“If I have to.”

I focus on my fingers, surprised to realize they’re tracing slow circles on his skin. The contact is soothing and thrilling at the same time. It makes me feel daring. Maybe too daring, because I can’t stop myself from asking, “Do you think you could?”

“Kill?”

I lock eyes with him again. “If it saved a life? If it saved your life? If it saved . . .”

I stop myself. I can’t ask him to save me. I’m supposed to save
him
.

Vane turns away as he considers my question, staring at what remains of the tree he destroyed. “I don’t know.”

He takes my hand, cradling it gently between his palms. Warmth travels up my arms, heading straight to my heart and making it flutter as he looks at me again, knocking my breath away with the tenderness in his haunting blue eyes. “I hope so.”

Me too.

It’s a miracle I don’t say the thought aloud.

I have no right to hope. But if he’s offering it freely, I can’t help but take it.

So I don’t pull away, even though I should. And I let myself believe he might be strong enough to save us all.

To save me.

He’s the only one who can.

CHAPTER 31

VANE

I
t isn’t until Audra’s bird returns from his second hunt of the day that I notice how late it is. I trained through breakfast and lunch—but it’s probably better. If I’d had anything in my stomach when I realized Audra was training me to kill, I would have heaved it all over myself.

It reminds me of the way my body reacted when the doctors gave me pills. Sweat, hives, spasms, puke, like my system will do anything—everything—to purge the medicine from my bloodstream. The idea of killing feels just as toxic.

Great—I’m allergic to violence. I’m sure Audra’s
thrilled
with that news.

Maybe I can fight it. I mean, sure, I don’t like violent movies or video games—but they don’t make me wig out like that. Maybe the fight will be the same way.

But those are fake
, I tell myself.
And this is horrifyingly real.

My head spins and I suck in air to try to clear it.

I have to get over this. Lives are at stake.

The innocent people in this valley.

Me.

Audra.

I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her alive. If that means taking out a Stormer or two, well . . . I’ll have to deal with that. Even if just thinking about it makes me nauseous.

“How did my parents handle the training?” I ask, hoping they knew some trick to be able to fight without throwing up.

Audra bites her lip and looks away.

I guess that means they didn’t do very well. I decide not to ask for the gory details. Especially since I’ve thought of a better question. “What were they like?”

“Your parents?”

“Yeah.” She’s been stubbornly secretive about my past, but she could at least tell me
that
. Maybe it would help trigger more memories tonight.

She sighs. “I wasn’t around them much. When my parents weren’t trying to train them, they kept all three of you inside, away from Raiden’s searchwinds, which were always so close on our trail.”

I have no idea what that means, but I guess it doesn’t matter.

“Your mom was always sneaking outside with you, though,” she adds, turning toward me. Her lips twist into a sad smile. “I used to watch you guys play together in the fields. She seemed like a great mom.”

“I wish I remembered her.” I’m surprised at how thick my voice sounds.

“I know,” she whispers.

There really isn’t anything else to say.

“Actually . . . ,” Audra says, jumping to her feet and heading to the corner of the house where her crappy bed of palm leaves is.

“What are you doing?” I ask, joining her as she starts rummaging around.

“Looking for something.”

My phone beeps and I pull it out of my pocket to check it. A text from Isaac, begging me to go out with him, Shelby, and Hannah tonight.

“Everything okay?” Audra asks as I text him back.

“Yeah. My friend’s just trying to convince me to go on a double date with Hannah tonight. I’m telling him thanks, but no thanks.”

“Good,” Audra says quietly.

My head snaps up. “Good?”

I definitely want clarification on
that
.

“Of course,” she says. “You need to train tonight.”

“Is that really the
only
reason?” I press, stepping closer. My phone buzzes and I shove it in my pocket. I’m not letting anything interrupt this conversation.

“What do you mean?” She tries to back away, but she’s standing in the only corner in her broken house and I’m blocking her escape.

Good. It’s high time Audra and I come to an understanding about whatever’s going on between us.

“I mean, are you sure there isn’t another reason you don’t want me going out with Hannah?” I lean closer, leaving only a foot of space between our faces.

She stares at the ground. “Actually, there is.”

My heart does an extra jump.

I step toward her, gently grabbing her waist to pull her to me.

She pushes me back. “What are you doing?”

She might as well have slapped me.

She shoves past me and stalks to the opposite end of the room. Her hands pull at the ends of her braid as she paces. “There’s something I haven’t told you. I didn’t know how you would react—and I didn’t want anything to interfere with your training.”

“And that would be?” I ask when she doesn’t continue. My voice shakes with the anger I’m trying to hold back.

Her sigh feels like it lasts an eternity. “You’re . . . not
free
, Vane.”

That’s . . . not what I was expecting. “What does that mean?”

“It means I can’t let you go on a date tonight—or any night.”

“What, there’s some law in your world that says Vane Weston isn’t allowed to date?”

“Sort of. Remember, Vane, you’re the last Westerly. You’re not like everyone else.”

This is seriously giving me a headache. And I’m about to ask what the freaking law actually says when a horrible thought occurs to me.

“That’s why you ruined my last date with Hannah, isn’t it?”

“Yes. And if you’d just left the restaurant and gone home like I’d
tried to tell you, I wouldn’t have had to call the Northerly and brand it with our traces. We’d still be safe.”

“So, you’re telling me you
risked our lives
just to stop me from
dating
?”

She straightens, and her eyes blaze. “No. I called the flurry because I had to stop you from bonding to her—and I didn’t have time to think. I just reacted.”

There are so many things wrong with that, I don’t know where to start.

Actually, I do. “Bonding? What the hell does that mean?”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Kissing is different for our kind than it is for the groundlings. They do it for fun, like it means nothing. For us, a kiss sparks an actual, physical change. It creates a connection between the pair who kiss, bonding them together until death parts them. That’s why I’ve always stepped in to make sure you never got that far with any of the girls I found you with. I didn’t know what would happen if you bonded with a groundling, but I couldn’t risk letting any sort of attachment form.”

I put aside the whole
a single kiss sealing your fate for the rest of your life
thing for a second, because it’s way too weird and crazy to think about.

What does she mean she “stepped in” with the girls she found me with?

Oh. Crap.

“It was you. All my bad luck with girls. Drinks suddenly getting knocked over by the breeze and spilling on their clothes so they’d need to go home. Birds pooping on their heads.”

Every single one of those disasters was caused by birds or wind or something in the sky. All except the Great Farting Debacle. Unless . . .

“Oh my God—you made the farting sound that day I was at the Date Festival, didn’t you? You broke the wind somehow, made it sound like a fart, and framed me for it?”

She doesn’t deny it.

I laugh.

How can I
not
laugh at the insanity of it all? “Do you have any idea how much you’ve jacked up my life over the last few years?”

“I know it’s been hard, Vane. But I couldn’t explain what was going on until your mind was ready to understand your heritage, and you just had a breakthrough a few days ago. In the meantime, I was under strict orders from the Gale Force to make sure you didn’t bond to anyone.”

“Why does your army give a crap about my love life?”

“Trust me when I say you won’t mind once you meet Solana.”

Solana?

I have a feeling I don’t want to know the answer to this question, but I have to ask it anyway. “Who the hell is Solana?”

“Our former king’s heir—all that’s left of the royal line after Raiden destroyed it. She’ll be crowned queen when Raiden falls.”

“And what’s she got to do with me?”

I can tell she doesn’t want to answer just as much as I don’t want to hear it. But we’ve come too far now. So she closes her eyes and whispers. “You two are betrothed.”

The word hangs over us, practically casting a shadow.

I’m betrothed
.

To some spoiled princess I’ve never met.

Too. Many. Emotions bubble inside.

Anger. Annoyance. Confusion. Frustration. Fear. Rebellion. Rage.

But one feels stronger than the others, and it takes me a second to identify it.

Hurt.

Takes me another second to figure out why. “And . . . you’re okay with that?”

She looks away. Refuses to meet my eyes. But she nods.

I know I probably should leave it at that, but I can’t stop myself. “What about us?”

She doesn’t say anything, and that spurs my courage. I move toward her, trapping her against the wall. “There’s something between us, Audra.” I grab her hand, letting the familiar sparks shoot through my skin. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel that.”

I’m not sure if I’m fueled by fear or want or just sheer desperation. But it’s cards-on-the-table time. I’ve dreamed of her for too long—wanted her for too long—to let her shove me away because her stupid army thinks they can arrange my life.

I know she feels something for me.

I know it
.

“Stop thinking about what your army wants. They’re not here right now. It’s just you and me. And you want me,” I whisper. “I have to believe that. Because I want you, too.”

It’s hard to push the last words out. But it feels good to say them.

I reach up, trying to slide my fingers into her hair, but her braid’s too tightly woven. I settle for stroking her face.

She doesn’t pull away, but she shakes her head. “I swore an oath, Vane.”

“Screw the oath.” I lean in until I feel her breath against my face, then stop. I don’t want to rush her. “You’ve done enough for them. You’re protecting me. Who cares about the rest?”

“I do.” She closes her eyes, and her jaw quivers. “I swore to get you safely through this—and I will. And then you’ll return with the Gales and meet your betrothed.”

“They can take their betrothal and shove it. I want
you
.”

I lean in more, until there’s barely an inch separating us. I don’t know if she’s right about the bonding thing, but I actually wouldn’t mind bonding myself to her. In some ways, I feel like I already have.

She sucks in a shaky breath and I know. She
wants
this.

“No,” she shouts, shoving so hard I stumble halfway across the room. “My loyalty is to the Gales.”

She draws the windslicer, pointing it at my heart. “I mean it, Vane. I can’t do this. I
won’t
do this.”

“So, what, you’re going to stab me?”