Let The Wind Rise (Sky Fall, #3)(9)

“That belonged to Audra’s father.” I don’t say it like a question, but Arella nods anyway.

“I found it in the rubble after the storm.” She traces her fingers along the cord. “I’d been holding out hope, refusing to believe Liam was really gone. But then I saw the black, and—”

She chokes back a sob as she clasps the necklace around her neck.

“A guardian exhales a bit of their life force into their pendant,” Solana explains. “As long they’re still breathing, the cord is vivid blue. But once they return to the sky . . .”

Tears stream down Arella’s cheeks, but I stop myself from feeling sorry for her.

It was her fault.

Everything is.

My fingers find their way to the copper compass bracelet Audra gave me, the only thing I have left from my parents after Arella slaughtered them. The needle usually points west, but for the moment it’s just spinning and spinning.

“We need to keep moving,” I say, and Arella nods.

Before she goes inside, she takes down the wind chimes, bringing them with us as we follow her up the weathered porch steps.

I don’t really know what I was expecting Arella’s house to look like—but I definitely would’ve been less surprised by cobwebs and creepy chandeliers than I am by the sparse emptiness. Each room has a couple of pieces of worn, dusty furniture—and that’s it. The rest is bare walls and creaky floors and still, stuffy air. It’s barely better than the burned-down shack Audra squatted in on my parents’ property.

Arella hangs the wind chimes over a plain wooden table in the kitchen and disappears down the hall, promising to be right back.

“Is this where Audra lived?” Solana asks.

I’m honestly not sure, but I nod anyway. I don’t feel like admitting how little I know about the-girl-I-was-bonded-to-and-am-planning-to-bond-to-again.

But Audra didn’t like to talk about . . . well . . . almost everything. Especially when it came to her past.

Mental note: Ask more questions next time.

I’m studying the depressing rooms, trying to memorize every detail when Arella returns, carrying a silver scabbard and two windslicers.

She’s changed into clean black pants and a tank that probably used to fit better—but thanks to her days in the Maelstrom the fabric hangs off her scrawny shoulders and bunches in weird places.

She hands Solana one of the windslicers and straps the other to her belt.

She gives me the scabbard.

My hand shakes as I slide out the knife and stare at the blade molded from thousands of needles. It’s feather shaped, like a mini-windslicer, designed to shred drafts and skin alike—and there’s a tiny speck of dried red near the hilt.

I hand it back to her as the room starts to spin. “I can’t.”

“You have to,” Arella tells me. “There’s no point getting anywhere close to Raiden’s fortress if you’re not ready to kill.”

There’s that word again.

Kill.

I know I can’t avoid it forever. But I’m not sure how I’m going to get through it without shattering to a million pieces.

She’s right though.

If a Stormer spots us during our mission, there’s only one option.

I try to slip the scabbard into my boot, but it doesn’t fit—clearly I shouldn’t take weapon ideas from movies.

Solana shows me how to strap it to my belt.

“I also found this,” Arella says, holding up a silver instrument the size of her palm with cuplike ends dangling off some sort of pinwheel. She nudges it with her finger, making it spin with a soft creak.

“Is that one of the Stormers’ anemometers?” Solana asks, leaning closer.

“I stole it off one of them a while back,” Arella agrees. “Thought it might come in handy someday.”

“What does it do?” I ask.

“I’m not sure. It never seems to respond to the wind. But if Raiden has his Stormers carry them, they must be important.” Arella slips the longer end through her belt, leaving it dangling next to her windslicer as she walks to the window, pulls it open, and traces her fingers across the filthy screen. “We need to figure out our flight path.”

She and Solana start discussing jet streams, but I’m not listening—partially because I don’t know crap about that stuff. But mostly because I keep staring at the fresh welts on my wrists from the ropes I just escaped.

If Os—with his limited experience in the power of pain—could capture all three of us in one fell swoop, it won’t matter how we fly, or what weapons or gadgets we bring with us.

If we have to face off against the Stormers—and let’s be honest, there’s a pretty good chance we will—we’ll need to fight like them if we want to win.

And since none of us want to sink to that level, we need to get someone else on our side who can.

I know a guy for the job—assuming I can find him.

And assuming I can convince him not to kill us.





CHAPTER 6


AUDRA


I try to count my steps and memorize the turns as Raiden leads me to his dungeon, but his fortress is a labyrinth of narrow paths and twisting stairways that take us up and down and every possible direction. By the time we reach the dim, windowless room lined with dark-barred cells, I’m so turned around, I can’t tell if I’m deep underground or high in a different tower.