Let the Sky Fall (Sky Fall #1)(81)

Another Stormer?

“What have you done?” the Stormer screams, dropping to his knees.

Her features twist with fury. “Raiden has no idea who he’s messing with.”

She raises her arm again. But that’s when she notices me.

Her eyes lock with mine and in her moment of distraction the Stormer tangles her in gusts and launches her high into the full force of the funnel. The winds suck her into the darkness.

The Stormer shouts something at the winds wrapped around him and blasts toward where the other scream came from.

I run the opposite way.

The winds around me rage, making my skin ripple from the force. I claw my way toward the edge of the vortex right as another scream pierces through the storm. A higher-pitched scream.

Audra.

I try to dodge the flying trees and broken pieces of house and rocks as I run, but some of them catch me. Blood oozes down my legs and arms as she screams again and I follow the sound. I finally find her tied to the wall of the tornado, bound by the winds. Stuff flies at her head—branches and rocks and bits of who knows what. She needs help.

But she’s too far above me. She doesn’t even know I’m there. The winds erase my screams before they reach her. I don’t know how to help her.

I wish my parents had taught me something that would save her. A simple command. Anything.

The winds shift. I stumble to my knees as the draft holding Audra rips her higher, until she’s barely a speck in the dark sky. Her scream cuts through the roaring storm, making my stomach twist and clench.

The draft drops her like a stone.

“Fly,” I scream.

She falls faster.

Some instinct deep inside me takes control. My hands stretch out—but I don’t remember telling them to do that—and I hear my voice whisper this crazy-sounding hiss.

I have no idea what I said. But the wind understands.

A gust wraps around Audra and grabs on. It isn’t strong enough to catch her, but it slows her fall. She hits the ground hard enough to hurt. Not hard enough to kill.

A man bursts through the wall of wind, and I start to run. Then I realize it’s Audra’s father. He crouches over her, checking her before he lifts her over his shoulder.

I stumble to his side and he steadies me against the icy wind.

“Thank you,” he says. “You saved my daughter’s life.”

I jolt awake.

The sky is dark—but not nighttime dark.

Storm dark.

Clouds of my breath hang in the air and I stare at them, trying to remember the last time it was cold enough in the desert to see my breath. I reach for my sweatshirt, struggling to get it over my head with shaking hands. The valley is eerily silent. Every windmill still.

The calm before the storm.

“They could be here any minute,” Arella announces.

I jump as she steps out of the shadow of a windmill.

“Ugh—watching people sleep is beyond creepy,” I grumble.

A half smile curls her lips. “I came over to wake you, but you seemed to be having a nightmare.”

More like a memory. “Where’s Audra?”

“Why? What do you need?”

She flashes a smile that’s probably supposed to make me trust her—but I’m still too ready to punch her for last night. “I need to talk to Audra.”

She sighs and points to the opposite end of the hill, where I spot Audra pacing among the windmills. I set off toward her.

Arella follows me.

“I can find her on my own,” I tell her.

“I’m coming as chaperone.”

“Uh, I have more important things to do than try to make a move on your daughter.”

“That’s not what I hear.”

I don’t have time for this crap. I do my best to ignore her as she trails right behind me.

Audra’s hair’s back in the braid—figures—and it’s hard not to stare at her mouth, remembering how close it came to pressing against mine.

I shake the flashback away. “I need to talk to you.”

“There’s not much time. I launched a wind flare about an hour ago. They’ll be coming straight here.”

I breathe into my cupped hands, trying to stop shivering. “Fine. I just thought you’d want to know that I remembered something in my dream. I spoke Westerly.”

Arella gasps and I glare at her. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“What do you mean you ‘spoke Westerly’?” Audra asks.

“Yes, Vane—what do you mean?” Arella chimes in.

I move toward Audra, keeping my back to her mom. “It wasn’t your father who saved you in the storm—at least, not the first time. It was me. I called the wind that caught you.”

“But . . . I distinctly remember my father carrying me out of the storm,” Audra argues.

“He did. After I called a Westerly to slow your fall. Don’t you remember how fast you were falling before that?”

She frowns. “I thought my father sent that draft.”

“Nope, it was me.”

“But—”

“If your father had sent the draft, don’t you think it would’ve cushioned your fall more? You hit the ground hard, right? Because I didn’t have enough control.”

Arella grabs my shoulders and spins me to face her. “Does that mean you’ve had the breakthrough?”