Let the Sky Fall (Sky Fall #1)(82)

Her eyes are bright. Too bright. Desperate.

I jerk away. “I can’t remember what I said to call the wind. I’m not sure if I even knew back then. It was more like my instincts took over somehow.”

Her hands clench into fists as she turns away. “So close.”

Tell me about it.

“Something must have triggered those instincts,” Audra says.

“Yeah. I didn’t want you to die.”

Her gaze softens at that, and I have to stop myself from taking her hands. But I step closer, lowering my voice so only she’ll hear. “I wanted to save you. I still do.”

Pink tinges her cheeks as she stares into my eyes.

She still cares.

Arella clears her throat, ruining the moment.

She’s begging to be tackled.

“I wasn’t try—”

“So if I threatened Audra’s life right now,” she asks, cutting me off, “would your instincts take over again?”

“Uh . . . probably not—because I’d like to believe you wouldn’t actually kill your daughter just to trigger my breakthrough.”

“Then you don’t understand how much your breakthrough means.”

Is this woman psycho? Or are all Windwalkers so caught up in this power struggle, nothing else matters?

I don’t know which is worse.

“We need to try,” Arella continues. “We need something that will trigger your protective instincts for Audra.”

“Don’t even think about it,” I warn when she moves toward Audra. I will pin her arms at her sides if I have to. I remember what she did to the Stormers in my dream.

“It’s too late,” Audra interrupts. She points to the sky, which now looks like a giant bruise. A thunderous roar echoes off the mountains, drowning out the rest of her words.

The Stormers have arrived.





CHAPTER 50


AUDRA


The last time I heard this sound, my father died.

The roar crawls through my ears, slips through my veins, and plants itself in my feet, rooting me to the ground.

For a second I can’t breathe, think, move. Then my training kicks in.

I grab Vane’s arm. “Come with me. Now.”

“Vane should stay with me,” my mother says, grabbing his other arm.

“He’s not leaving my sight.”

“Which of us is the stronger fighter?” she asks.

“Which one of us is his guardian?” I snap back.

“I’m staying with Audra,” Vane says, trying to pull away from my mother. Her grip tightens.

Several seconds pass as we stare each other down. Then she releases her hold. “If he’s taken, it’s on your head.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

She scrutinizes me as we move toward our position. Then the first winds shift away from us, a mass exodus of Northerlies. Answering the Stormers’ call.

My mother reluctantly jogs away, taking her place on the hill right below us. Vane runs with me to the cluster of two-bladed turbines. I point to the center windmill. “Crouch there.”

“What about you?”

“I can take care of myself. Please,” I add when he starts to argue. “You have to let me be in charge now. This is what I’ve trained for.”

His clenched fists tell me he doesn’t want to agree, but he squats in the shadows. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he orders.

I know what he’s referring to, but I can’t make that promise. “Keep your hands on the nearest drafts so you can grab them if you need them.”

He nods.

The winds whip the windmills into a blur of white, and I let myself believe that keeping Vane surrounded by giant, sharp blades will deter the Stormers from using a vortex attack. But I can feel the winds streaking to the edges of the hills. Forming a wall. Caging us inside.

What are they up to?

I race to the tallest windmill and wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. It would be faster to float to the top, but the Stormers don’t know exactly where we are. If I call a draft now, I might as well light a beacon. I have to climb by hand.

My legs burn and my fingers feel raw, but I reach the top and crouch behind the blades. I should be able to see the whole valley from my roost, but the winds blur everything beyond the foothills. I can still make out the two dark funnels plowing across the desert, though. Attacking from the north.

I hope my mother’s ready. They’ll hit her position before ours.

Sweat streaks down my spine as the funnels unravel on the outer edge of the wind farm, vanishing into clouds of sand and dust. The Stormers’ first command licks through the icy air, echoing off the whipping drafts. I’ve never heard a call so loud. It sounds like bits and pieces of the three languages. Nothing more than gibberish.

But the winds understand.

All around me they change direction, swooping and ducking and diving in unnatural patterns, searching us out.

Probes.

Unlike any probes I’ve seen. They dip and dart on a whim, almost like they’re seeking movement or heat.

Is that possible?

I duck as a probe beelines for me. It misses my head by inches. Another rushes for my legs and I jump to avoid it, barely recovering my balance when I land. I glance at Vane and see he’s faring no better. The winds whip and twist around him, making him dive and leap and dance to avoid them.