Let the Storm Break (Sky Fall #2)(25)

Well . . . if I could get my memories pieced back together. “How do you know all this? Are you and Solana friends?” Gus looks away. “No. I’ve only met her twice—though our families have some . . . history. But everyone knows the story of our last princess. Just like everyone knows the story of the last Westerly.”

“Seriously?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re kind of a big deal, Vane.”

I guess that shouldn’t surprise me, given the whole Your Highness thing. But I can’t seem to wrap my head around it.

I mean . . . I’m just me.

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Gus asks, staring at me like my algebra teacher did when I would give the wrong answer again. “You’re the guy every kid grows up wanting to be.The one everyone’s hoping will make our world safe, so we don’t have to wander and hide to avoid the Stormers—hey, relax,” Gus says as I get up to pace.

But I have to move. I feel like I can’t breathe.

I knew the Gales were counting on me and I knew there were a lot of people who needed my help. But I never really thought about an entire world looking to me as their hero.

That’s a lot of pressure.

“I can’t do this, Gus. I’m not . . .”

Not what?

Brave enough?

Strong enough?

“I’m not ready,” I finally mumble.

“You think the Gales don’t know that? Why do you think Feng pushes you so hard? And why do you think they picked Solana to train you—and don’t say to fix you up. Yeah, I’m sure that was part of it. But they also know it’s not going to be easy for you to adjust to your new role. And you know who understands the pressures and responsibilities better than anyone? Solana.”

I sulk at the ground.

“Just talk to her. You might be surprised at how much she can help you.”

“But . . .”

I realize I’m out of excuses.

All I have left is that I don’t want to—and I’m not even sure if that’s true anymore.

“Fine,” I mumble, refusing to look up and see Gus’s smug grin. “Tell the Gales I’ll try training with her. But not until tomorrow. Tonight, I need a break.”

“Sounds fair,” Gus agrees.

I have a feeling I’m going to regret this. But at least I’ll get a chance to apologize to Solana for the way I acted.

Gus waits for me to head back toward my house, but I can’t make my legs cooperate. My mom will be there, waiting to finish our fight—and I’m just not up for it today.

I lean against the crumbling wall, feeling the sharp stucco poke my skin. “I know it’s your job to protect me, Gus, and I really appreciate what you do. But I’m going insane here. Is there any way you could give me a few hours alone?”

“I don’t know, man, if you doze off and something happens—”

“I won’t. I’ll do jumping jacks the whole time if you need me to.” I start jumping and waving my arms and manage to do about twenty before I get winded. “Okay, maybe I’ll just pace or something.”

Gus laughs as I bend to catch my breath. “It’s always so inspiring to see our ultimate warrior in action.”

“Hey, I’d like to see you—actually, never mind.”

Gus could probably do jumping jacks all day—and then run thirty miles to cool down.

“My point was, I’ll find a way to stay awake,” I tell him. “Just, please. I need some space or I’m going to lose it.”

Gus closes his eyes and stretches out his hands. “The winds do feel pretty calm right now, so I guess I can leave you here and keep Feng away. But you owe me.”

I can’t help smiling. “Sounds fair.”

He waits for me to start pacing before he leaves, and every few steps he turns back to make sure I’m still moving. I keep it up until he’s gone. Then I call a draft and float myself to the top of the nearest palm tree.

I know I’m not high enough to feel Audra’s trace—but I have to try anyway. I have to find some way to reach her.

“Come on, Audra,” I whisper, struggling to concentrate and keep my balance on the wobbly palm branches. “Give me something—I’m dying here.”

I push my senses as far as they can go, and, almost like she hears me—or the universe decides to finally cut me a freaking break—I actually feel something. A hint of warmth carried on a breeze that’s barely within my reach.

A Westerly.

It’s not her trace. I don’t actually know what it is.

But it’s there.

My voice shakes as I call the draft to my side, ordering it to fly slow and steady so the Gales won’t notice the movement. The warm tingling increases as the draft draws near—and when it finally sweeps to my side, I can feel it’s a weary wind, singing of a long journey and the burden it carries.

A whispered message from Audra.

Tears prick my eyes.

She finally reached out to me.

Maybe she’ll tell me where she is.

Maybe she’s actually coming home.

I hold my breath as the breeze unravels, releasing the words Audra wove inside.

Only two of them—and not the ones I’d been hoping for.

Not ones I even know how to understand.