Let the Sky Fall (Sky Fall #1)(85)

“No, I don’t think I will.”

His bulging muscles and the way he hovers in the air so effortlessly prove he’s more powerful than I am. But I’m too angry to be afraid.

“I can’t wait to see what Audra does to you when she gets here.”

“Is that her name? Wispy thing? Acts all tough with a windslicer?” He leans close enough that his cold breath coats my face. “Not too worried about her. She’s bound in a drainer.”

Everything inside me drops like a stone. “A drainer?”

He grins. “Special funnel we make. The hostage can’t move. Can’t escape. And our hungry winds drain the life right out of them. Kind of like what your bonds are doing to you—but all over her body. She won’t last long that way.”

“You’re lying!”

“I’ll send her echo when it’s over. Let you feel the loss for yourself. And don’t go counting on the other one to rescue you either,” he adds as I suck in air to calm my rage. “She took off like a frightened bird the second we found where you guys were hiding. We’ll track her down later.”

He shoves me then, sending me tumbling through the sky like a useless piece of debris. I barely notice the nausea. My head’s already spinning way faster.

Audra’s been captured—in a drainer?

Arella abandoned us?

My body finally stops flipping and I breathe through my nose, refusing to let the vertigo overwhelm me. It’s all up to me now.

I squeeze the pills so hard they crumble.

Dammit!

Unless . . .

I pulverize what remains of the pills with one hand while my other hand searches the sky, feeling for an Easterly. I’ll only get one shot at this, so I have to get it right.

I fight exhaustion as I wait for the winds to surge and let the sound drown out my whispered call. The draft coils around my wrist, and I pray the Stormer won’t notice until it’s too late.

I don’t know the exact command for Shove this down his freaking throat, so I’ll have to improvise.

I study his breathing, searching for the pattern.

Three.

Two.

One.

I shout, “Rush,” and toss the crushed pills into the draft.

The white powder slams him in the face mid-inhale and he sucks it up. Not nearly as much as I’d hoped, but enough to make him gag.

He charges me, gripping my throat. His thick, meaty fingers dig into my skin, strangling me. Then his hands start to shake and I slip from his grasp.

“What did you do to me?” The anger in his voice fades to fear as he chokes. Hard.

Okay, choking is good. And he’s scratching at his skin, like he’s getting hives. But he’s definitely not passing out like I’d been counting on.

Time for Plan B.

I don’t know where the strength comes from, but I thrust my body in a half somersault, positioning my feet above my head. I call another Easterly and coil it around my legs.

“Rush!” I scream.

The draft launches me forward, and I strain my legs higher, lining up my aim.

The Stormer notices me a split second too early and tries to twist out of the way. But my legs are long enough to kick him in the head as hard as I can.

I try to ignore the crack-crunch sound of my shoe connecting with his skull, but the nausea still hits me.

Only shock saves me from hurling all over myself as the Stormer’s head lolls back, thin lines of red trailing down one side of his face. Then the drafts holding him whisk away, and he drops like dead weight.

Dead.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

Maybe he’ll wake up before he hits the ground and stop his fall. Or maybe he’ll land in a sand dune and it’ll cushion the impact. Or maybe . . .

I start gagging.

I’m thinking about it.

I suck in as much air as I can, focusing on the only thought holding me together.

I had no choice.

Okay, so my guard is gone—but who knows when his evil sidekick will get here, and I’m still tied up with these life-sucking bonds in the middle of a freaking storm. Things could be better.

Deep breaths. Think.

I need a Westerly. It’s the only thing I can think of that might break these stupid unbreakable bonds. I have to find a way to call one.

Come on, I know this. I’ve done it before.

I close my eyes and force myself to imagine Audra bound in a drainer. Feeling the same exhaustion I’m feeling, but a thousand times worse. Every second bringing her closer to death.

I shove past my pain and anger. Past my broken, scattered memories. Deep into my consciousness. My mind buzzes with warm energy and I reach for it, sinking deeper still. Beyond fear. Beyond everything.

Everything except the soft, gentle rush.

A sigh.

A single word.

Peace.

As soon as my mind touches the word, the warmth swells, shoving me up and out. Back to the light.

I open my eyes and inhale as a new voice fills my mind. A hushed, gentle whisper.

A Westerly.

Calling to me. Singing to me.

It’s not like the other breakthroughs, where the winds tempted and teased and tricked me away from myself. The west wind is me.

And I know how to control it.

“Come to my side. Share your peace. Surge and surround me. Secure my release.”