Let the Sky Fall (28 page)

There are so many things I could—should—say.

But I don’t know what the right move is anymore.

Audra decides for me. She exits the car.

As she steps outside she turns her face to the wind, closing her eyes. It should’ve been a peaceful gesture, but her brow creases. Her lips tighten.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as she spins around, her wild eyes scanning the sky.

She doesn’t answer. Just walks toward the grove, touching the trunks of the palms. She glances at the treetops, searching for something.

“You realize how much trouble you’re in, don’t you?” my mom calls from the front door.

Crap.

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“If you’re sorry, you’ll tell me what the hell is going on.” She steps outside, shaking her head as she moves down the path toward me. She folds her arms across her chest. “Where were you?”

“Santa Monica,” I say, only half paying attention as I climb out of the car and head toward Audra.

Audra scoops up a small white dove and inspects the feathers of its wings. Her frown deepens with every feather she checks.

“Are you even listening to me?” my mom asks.

I turn back toward her.

My mom sighs. “I want to trust you, honey—but you’re making it very hard. Ever since she came along, you haven’t been the same. What’s she doing over there, anyway?”

Audra fiddles with the dove’s feathers, rearranging them somehow. Her hands shake.

“I don’t know.” But something is clearly wrong.

I run to her side, annoyed at my mom for following but knowing I can’t stop her.

“What happened?” I ask Audra.

Her face looks pale as she stares into space, ignoring me. She tosses the dove into the sky, its wings flapping in my face as it flies away.

Freaking birds
.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” I beg.

“We just ran out of time,” she says, finally meeting my eyes. “The Stormers will be here tomorrow.”

CHAPTER 44

AUDRA

I
can barely believe the words as I speak them. It wasn’t her usual crow, but the dove came from my mother. And I checked her message three times, counting and recounting each mark she made in the feathers to make sure I hadn’t missed one.

There’s no mistake.

But . . . it’s only been four days since I gave away our location.

Four.

How could we have lost so much time?

My mother said the Stormers are better trackers than she’s ever seen. They saw through her confounded trails much quicker than they should have, and now they’ve locked onto ours.

They must be more powerful than I feared.

But why wouldn’t they be? Raiden’s been searching for Vane for years. He sent his best.

My heavy lunch churns in my stomach as the fear settles in and I wonder if I’m about to vomit.

“What do you mean they’ll be here tomorrow?” Vane asks, his face ashen. “How do you even know that?”

“Wait—who’s coming? What’s going on?”

It takes my brain a second to put together that Vane’s mother is standing with us. But I don’t have time to worry about her.

“My mother sent me a message,” I tell Vane. “They found our trace and they’re bearing down on us.”

The words knock Vane back a step. I know exactly how he feels.

At least we have time to prepare—though we have precious little of it. Still, it’s better than nothing. I have time to strategize. Anticipate. Steer things our way.

We shouldn’t try to hide—the chance is too great they’ll catch us off guard. The smarter play would be move to a position where we have the advantage and call them to us.

The wind farm
.

The gusts are strong there, giving us plenty of ammunition. And we can hide, send our trace in every direction so they won’t know which angle to approach from. The pointed blades of the windmills make a wind fight more dangerous—but that will work to our advantage too. I’m sure the Stormers have been ordered to be cautious after what happened with Vane’s parents. Raiden needs Vane brought in alive.

“Get changed into something warm,” I order Vane. “They’re Northerlies, so it’ll be an icy storm. And hurry—we need to move fast.”

“Absolutely not,” his mother interrupts, blocking his path. “You’re not going anywhere, Vane. Not until you explain what the hell is going on—and even then. Do you really think I’m just going to ignore that you ran away in the middle of the night?”

Vane runs a hand through his hair. “Mom, you don’t understand.”

“So enlighten me.”

He sighs. “Even if I tried to explain it, you wouldn’t believe me. You have to trust me.”

“I do trust you. But I don’t trust her.” She spins toward me, her face much harder than the last time I saw her.

I take a step back.

“Ever since
she
showed up, you haven’t been yourself,” she tells Vane. “You’ve been lying, sneaking around, ignoring your friends. I know you like her, but she’s not good for you, honey. I don’t want you to see her anymore.”

The words sting more than they should, and I drop my eyes to the ground. I don’t want Vane’s mom to hate me. And I hate myself for being wounded by such a petty thing.

“You can’t stop me, Mom.” Vane’s voice is gentle but firm. “I’m going with her—I have to. And I need you to do me a favor.” He grabs her shoulders. “Go get Dad and get as far away from here as you can. And if any storm clouds follow you, keep going.”

“Storm clouds?” She leans in, staring into his eyes. “Are you on
drugs? You can tell me if you are. I just want to help you.”

Vane laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I wish this was all some big acid trip—that would be a lot better than the reality. But it isn’t. I can’t explain it, but you need to listen to me. Please. Have I ever lied to you—about anything important, at least?”

She stares at him for a long time. “You’re scaring me, Vane. Please, just tell me what’s going on.”

Vane looks at me, and I see the question filling his mind.

I shake my head, as hard as I can.

Do. Not. Tell. Her
.

I shove at the thought, wishing I could push it into his brain.

Vane’s jaw sets, and I know he knows what I’m thinking. The rigid line of his shoulders tells me he’s going to ignore it.

“Vane,” I warn as he opens his mouth. “Don’t.”

“She deserves to know.”

“She’ll never believe you.”

“Yes, I will,” his mom chimes in. “How dare you tell him what I will or won’t do! Tell me, Vane. Please.”

Time ticks by, and a soft Easterly streaks past us, singing of the shifting, unsteady world. Vane’s shoulders fall. “I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t tell you.”

I release the breath I’ve been holding.

“But I can show you,” he adds.

Before I can react, he reaches out his hands and whispers the Easterly call, wrapping the draft in front of him into a mini tornado swirling at his feet.

His mom gasps and jumps back, her eyes darting everywhere, like she doesn’t know where to look. “How?” she sputters.

“Don’t say it,” I order him.

Vane looks at me, not her as he answers. “I’m not human, Mom. I’m a Windwalker.”

CHAPTER 45

VANE

I
don’t know what I expected. Disbelief? Fear? Disgust?

All seem like logical reactions.

Instead, my mom says, “You control the wind.” Like it’s no big deal. Like I just showed her I can pat my head and rub my stomach at the same time.

“Kind of,” I say, my mind spinning as fast as the cyclone I’ve made.

Her not freaking out makes
me
freak out. I mean, doesn’t it seem at all strange to her that her son is a
different species
?

“So, what exactly is a Windwalker?” she asks, still mesmerized by the swirling winds.

Seriously—
how
is she taking this so well?

“Vane,” Audra warns.

“I’m a sylph,” I blurt out, because I’ve come too far to stop now. “I guess I’m an air elemental or whatever. I can speak to the wind, tell it what I want it to do.”

I whisper another command and the wind funnel tightens, stretching high over our heads, spraying us with bits of sand.

My mom gasps, her eyes wide with . . . wonder? Fright? I can’t tell.

“So that’s how you survived the tornado,” she whispers.

Who is this woman, and what has she done with my ever worrying mother?

“Uh . . . yeah. Sort of. But you believe me? Just like that?”

“Well, it’s not exactly easy,” she says, turning to face me, “but it’s hard to ignore the evidence.”

She points to the cyclone, which is picking up speed, growing wider every second. I whisper the command to unravel it and the winds streak away, showering us with pebbles and whipping our hair.

My mom wobbles. “Okay, I think I need to sit down.”

I grab her shoulders to support her. “Finally—a normal reaction.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Audra practically growls.

“I know. But this is important.” I turn back to my mom. “I’m sorry, I know this is a lot to take in. I would’ve told you sooner—but I figured you’d get kinda weirded out by the whole ‘not human’ thing. Sure freaked me out when Audra told me.”

“Audra,” my mom says, frowning as she looks at Audra. “So . . . she’s a sylph too?”

“Enough.” Audra’s voice is more weary than angry. “Do you have any idea how many rules you’ve just broken, Vane? She’s not allowed to know these things.”

“Why not? He’s my
son
.”

“Not biologically.”

My mom’s eyes flash. “He’s my son. How dare you make him keep secrets from me.”

Audra’s jaw locks.

Uh-oh.

I step between them. “Look, we’ll figure all this out later, okay?” I turn back to my mom, who still looks ready to throttle Audra. I take her shoulder, forcing her to look at me. “I need you to go get Dad from work, and the two of you need to get as far away from this valley as you can.”

“Why?”

“I can’t explain it all, Mom—but the person who killed my parents knows I’m here. He’s sent warriors to come get me, and they’ll be here tomorrow. So you have to get out of here, because I don’t know how big the storm will be and I won’t be able to live with myself if you or Dad gets hurt in the crosswinds.”

Her eyes get a glazed look as she processes that. Shock must be setting in.

“What about you?” she asks.

“Audra’s been training me to fight so we can protect the valley.”

“Training? The same training that dragged you home half dead?”

I squirm. “Yes. It’s been intense. But it’s going to be a hard fight. That’s why you have to get out of here.”

“Not without you.”

I almost want to smile. She’s sticking by me—even knowing what I really am.

But that’s not important right now.

“They know how to find me—which means it’s not safe to be around me.”

“Why?”

“It would take too long to explain,” Audra answers for me, and I feel my mom tense. “We’re running out of time as it is. Just trust me when I say if there were any other option, I would take it.”

“And why should I believe you?” my mom snaps. “Do you even know this girl, Vane? How do you know you can trust her? How do you know she’s not involved with these—these warriors or whatever?”

I want to tell my mom how paranoid she sounds. But my mind flashes to Audra on the pier, telling me she has a secret about my parents’ death—if that’s even what her secret was about.

Could she be a traitor?

I glance at the bracelet Audra gave me—the bracelet she hid and protected for
years
after salvaging it from the storm for me. “I trust Audra with my life, Mom.”

“But—”

“However you feel about me,” Audra cuts in, “I’ve sworn to protect your son at all costs. I’ll protect him with my life.”

Her stupid promise makes my heart sink with a thud.

The words have a different effect on my mom. She takes a step back from me, staring at her hands as she wrings them together. “I’m going to hold you to that promise, young lady.”

Audra nods.

I want to punch something.

“It’s time to go, Mom. Audra and I have a lot to do, and you need to put as much distance between you and this place as you can. Don’t think, don’t pack, just get somewhere safe.”

Tears well in my mom’s eyes and she wavers on her feet, like she’s not sure which way to go. “You’d better be here when I get back,” she tells me.

“I will.” I try to sound as confident as she needs me to be, but I hear the fear in my voice.

She wraps me in such a tight hug I wonder if my eyes are going to bulge out of my head. And feeling my mom’s tears soak through my shirt makes everything very, very real.

My eyes burn, but I nip that emotion in the bud before any tears form. “Go get Dad and head east. I’ll call you when the coast is clear.”

She walks to the house in a daze to grab her purse and keys. Just before she closes her car door, she turns to look at me. “I love you, Vane.”

“I love you, too. I’ll see you soon.”

“You’d better.” She glares at Audra as she says it.

Then she starts her car and backs down the driveway, never taking her eyes away from mine as she drives away.

It feels like a small part of me leaves with her.

I should call my friends—warn them to get out of town too. But what would I say?

I can’t tell them the truth.

I’ll just have to fight hard, make sure the storms don’t hit the valley floor.

Audra takes my hand.

It’s so unexpected, I can’t help turning toward her. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes are asking me to trust her.

I squeeze her hand tight. Because I do.

Then I let go and race inside to change into my only pair of jeans. I find it hard to believe it’s really going to get cold enough to need a sweatshirt, but I grab one anyway. I look around, wondering if there’s anything else I should bring. We have knives in the kitchen, but I doubt they’ll do much good. We don’t have a gun or a sword. What else do soldiers bring into battle? A first-aid kit?

I dig the kit out from under the bathroom sink and check what’s inside. I’m pretty sure any injuries we get won’t be patched up with an antiseptic wipe and a Band-Aid, so that’s pointless. And there are plenty of painkillers, but it’s not like we can take them. Not unless we
want
to make ourselves sick.