Let the Storm Break (Sky Fall #2)(28)

But I’m feeling suddenly shy. The only people I’ve ever sung in front of are my parents. Mostly my father, who was the real talent in the family. We always sang duets.

I close my eyes, picturing my father standing next to me, humming along as I sing the words in the Westerly tongue: Whisking through the clouds as the birds pass by Ignoring all the storms that try to ruin the sky Chasing down the setting sun

Forever

And ever

Never let the day be done

No never

Never

Don’t sink into the violent sea No never

Never

Find the path that sets you free Forever

And ever

Diving through the stars toward the earth far below Rushing through the places no one else dares to go

The last note is still heavy in the air when I open my eyes and find Aston wiping away tears.

“I know you won’t translate it for me,”he says, clearing the thickness from his throat, “but can you tell me what the song’s about?”

It’s a difficult question.

The winds’ songs are vague and relative. Everyone interprets them their own way.

“It’s about finding peace. And not being afraid.”

“Thank you,” he whispers.

It takes him a few minutes to compose himself. Then he stands, dusting off his pants. “I guess I need to hold up my end of the deal then.”

He crouches in front of me, holding my gaze as he points to the greenish winds binding me. “You’re going to be a good girl, right?”

I nod.

But I make sure my hands are as close to my pockets as I can. I’m only going to have one chance for this.

He orders the draft away.

“Thank you,” I say, smiling to put him at ease as I start to stand—and in the same motion I grab a jagged rock from my pocket and knock him to the ground, pinning him with my legs as I press the sharp edge against his neck.

Do it! my head screams, knowing I have only a few seconds left. Sever his vocal cords and run.

But when I see the stream of blood trickling from where the rock digs in and imagine spilling more, stabbing and slicing and stealing his voice—and probably his life—my head spins and my body shakes and I want to throw up and pass out and scream and run and curl into a tiny ball and never get up again.

I start to sway and he shoves me backward, knocking away my only weapon. I should get up—keep fighting. But I’m too sick to move. I close my eyes, feeling sweat drip down my face as I wait for him to end me.

“I’m guessing that didn’t go according to plan, now, did it?” he says as he picks me up and carries me across the cave.

I’m shivering too hard to speak—not that I have anything to say.

Vane’s Westerly influence sinks far deeper than I realized. I hope that means it will give me the strength I’ll need to protect the language. But how can I fight as a guardian if I can’t do anything violent?

Aston hisses a word and the fire springs back to life near the entrance. I half expect him to burn me alive, but he sets me down next to it, draping his cloak over my shoulders before he goes to stand on the other side of the flames. Blocking the exit.

“I’ve got to admit—that was actually a fairly brilliant plan. It probably would have worked if you hadn’t forgotten that you’re bonded to a Westerly!” He holds up the jagged rock I used and I feel dizzy just seeing the bloody point. He shakes his head and flings it into the fire. “You almost killed me.”

I force myself to meet his eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you. But I can’t stay here. Vane needs me. The Gales—”

“The Gales are never going to win!”

“Then I’d rather die with them.”

He mutters something I can’t understand, and I tense, waiting for some ruined wind to attack. Instead, normal drafts rush in. He sends a swarm of Easterlies to me and they brush my skin, drying my sweat and sharing their energy.

“Go,” Aston says quietly.

I turn to look at him and he rolls his eyes.

“If you’re willing to slice my head off with a dull rock then it’s best I not keep you around. I’m rather attached to my head. So go. Fight the pointless fight. Die with the others. But do yourself a favor. Take a detour through Death Valley. It’s to the east of here, where Raiden has his—actually, I won’t ruin the surprise. Just look for the sailing stones and you’ll figure out what I mean. And maybe if you see what Raiden does to resisters, you’ll finally grab your little boyfriend and head for the middle of nowhere and hope the Stormers never find you.”

I can’t believe he’s letting me go. But I’m not going to give him a chance to change his mind. His cloak slips to the floor as I stand on shaky legs and stumble away.

“And if Raiden ever does catch you, look for the guide I carved into the wall. If you’re as smart as I think you are, it’ll tell you how to get out.”

I stop at the mouth of the cave. “You could come with me. The Gales would—”

“It’s too late to save me, darling,” he interrupts. “Besides, how could I leave such fine accommodations?”

“If you change your mind . . .”

“I won’t. And I wouldn’t go telling anyone where I am. Next time I find a stranger on my beach, you can bet I’ll kill first and ask questions later.”