Let The Wind Rise (Sky Fall, #3)(98)

“So this is how it ends,” Raiden says. “The last stand of the last Westerly. Any final words?”

I’m about to tell him no when I notice my winds have added a new lyric.

They’re still singing about a shield being more dangerous than a sword, but there’s a new line that comes right before it.

Trust your enemy.

“You have two choices,” Raiden tells us. “Teach me a word of Westerly and I’ll kill you both quickly. Refuse, and you’ll get to watch your little friend experience a multitude of indescribable agonies.”

He grabs Solana by her hair, wrenching her neck as he drags her closer.

Trust your enemy, my Westerlies sing. Trust your enemy. Trust your enemy.

TRUST YOUR ENEMY.

“You want to know a word of Westerly?” I ask Raiden, hoping I’m guessing the wind’s meaning. “Fine. I’ll teach you a word. Just don’t hurt her.”

Solana’s eyes get almost as huge as Raiden’s.

“Just like that?” he asks. “After all of this”—he sweeps his arms toward the battle-scarred field—“you’re ready to betray your heritage before I place a single blow?”

“I saw what you did to Gus,” I mumble. “Solana doesn’t deserve that.”

Maybe I’m a better actor than I think. Or maybe Raiden’s just power hungry and doesn’t stop to ask the questions he should probably ask.

He doesn’t even argue when I demand he let Solana go. He releases his hold, and I pull her close enough to whisper, “Watch for my signal.”

“I’ll teach you their strongest command,” I tell him. “The one that’s saved me the most. If that doesn’t trigger your breakthrough, nothing will.”

Raiden’s in full power-junkie mode, his mouth practically salivating as I ask the Westerlies to whisk around him.

A shield is more dangerous than a sword.

“I’m going to teach you how to form a shield,” I say. “It only takes one word.”

Solana and I share a look, and I hope she’s ready, because she’s going to have to time it perfectly.

“Listen to the way I say it first,” I say, glad my instincts aren’t making me hurl yet. They’ve done that every other time I’ve tried to teach anyone, so this really must be what the winds want.

I whisper the word, highlighting each of the sighing, swishy sounds.

“Repeat it one more time,” Raiden tells me.

I notice Solana tightening her grip on her boomerang, and nod.

This is it.

Please let this be the end of him.

“Ready to try it?” I ask.

Raiden’s too focused on the pronunciation to notice Solana whispering her own command and turning her boomerang from yellow to red.

He nails each syllable of the Westerly command perfectly, and right as the final sound rolls off his tongue, Solana flings the weapon, nailing him dead in the chest.

We both drop to the ground as the force of the backlash ricochets, and I suck in a breath, wishing my last taste of air wasn’t so dusty.

I will always love you, Audra.

I repeat the words, hoping they brand themselves to my echo.

Let her find it. Let her know how sorry I am to leave her alone.

But as the explosion rings in my ears, I don’t feel any pain. And after another second I have to brave a look.

I don’t know how to describe the sound I make—it’s a mix of a thousand different emotions.

Solana makes a similar noise as she sits up beside me.

In the split second after her boomerang passed through Raiden’s backlash, the Westerly shield draped around his body, sealing in the explosion and leaving him to bear the full force of the blow—which triggers the backlash again. And again. And again.

Justice, the Westerlies tell me, the word easing my nausea at the gore.

Raiden’s the one who sealed his doom, forcing himself to face the pain of his own evil power.

It’s a slow death.

A painful one.

And then, he’s gone.

I leave him in his shell a few minutes longer, just to be certain the explosions are over.

And when I finally release the Westerly shield, his body crumbles to dust.

Rejected by the sky. Left to rot on the earth.





CHAPTER 52


AUDRA


It’s done.

I can feel it in the air.

A newfound peace I don’t know how to describe.

The winds aren’t calm—but I’ve never felt such joyous ease.

The air feels lighter, softer. Like Raiden’s existence had been a physical burden, dragging down the sky and burying it in gloom.

And Vane . . .

Our bond feels stronger than ever. Almost electric with the rush of his urgent journey.

He’s coming home.

He’s safe.

And he’s mine.

The Gales are frenzied with preparations—already a unanimous vote has passed, approving Vane’s plan for a ruling power of four.

Coronations and celebrations are being planned, even as the surviving guardians head to Brezengarde to wipe out any remaining Stormers.

There are stories that need to be told, life-changing decisions that must be made.

But I’ve asked them all to wait.