Let the Storm Break (Sky Fall #2)(44)

“I like it,” I say, even though my head is spinning and my heart is racing and I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to stab someone with a wind spike.

Or multiple someones . . .

“Ready?” Gus asks, calling the only Easterlies to his side.

I send them away. “I think we should fly with Westerlies. The Stormers won’t be able to feel our trace on them.”

“Good point.” Gus steps closer and wraps his arms around my shoulders.

I’m suddenly wishing I’d left my shirt on.

Gus clears his throat. “Think this would be less awkward if I stood behind you?”

“Uh, I don’t see how it would.”

I grab his hands and move them to my elbows before I call every nearby Westerly and ask them to form a wind bubble around us.

The drafts seem nervous to obey—and I have to ask twice before they do. But they finally float us into the sky, whipping as fast as they can to hide our forms as we fly in the direction the traces are leading me.

“Are we crazy?” Gus asks as the clouds block out the sun.

“Probably. But what else are we supposed to do?”

“I could’ve followed my orders, instead of risking your life to save my father. He wouldn’t have wanted me to do this.”

“I had my own reasons for coming, Gus. And it’s going to be fine. I’ve faced worse.”

I really want to believe that’s true, but the ground below us has a wide rut running down the center that looks a lot like a fresh tornado path. And the closer we get to the valley, the more frantic the Westerlies in our bubble turn. It takes all my focus to keep them under control.

So when Gus shouts, “My father’s trace is gone!” it breaks my concentration and the winds unravel.

The good news is, I manage to convince one of the Westerlies to catch us.

The bad news is, it’s not strong enough to carry us both, and all it really does is slow our fall.

We hit the ground hard—though the landing was probably much softer for Gus since the dude landed on top of me. I groan as he rolls away, trying to be grateful that nothing feels broken. Gus jumps to his feet and moves to the edge of the cliff. “What’s going on?” I ask as I stumble to his side.

My jaw drops when I take in the scene.

The valley is filled with at least fifty Stormers—with some blond guy who has to be Raiden standing in the center. But terrifying as that is, it’s nothing compared to the gigantic tornado with a head and arms that’s looming over everything.

I watch in a daze as it picks up a giant boulder and hurls it at the mountain.

Half the rock face crumbles away.

Holy.

Freaking.

Crap.

“What are you doing?” Gus snaps as I grab my wind spike and line up my aim.

“I’m getting rid of that—whatever that is.” I test my swing, feeling dizzy when I realize I’m about to kill something.

But it’s not a person.

It’s . . . well . . . I don’t know what the hell it is, but it’s not human or sylph—that’s for sure.

It’s a force for death and evil and nothing else—and I’m not going to let Raiden use it.

“Wait,” Gus says, grabbing my elbow and stopping me midthrow.

“We don’t have time to wait, Gus. Think of what that thing could do if it gets out of this valley.”

“Yeah, but you can’t give away our location and use up one of our only weapons until we have my father and are ready to get out of here.”

I hate him for being right.

And I have to find Audra, too.

But we have to be quick because I have a feeling Raiden didn’t just bring his new toy for Show and Tell. We have to destroy it before it’s too late.

“You won’t be able to find him,” Gus tells me as I close my eyes and search the air. “Feng’s trace is completely gone.”

Audra’s is too.

All the winds have vanished—and our bond has faded too much for me to follow.

But there has to be a way to find her.

I force myself to focus, begging my instincts to guide me as I stretch out my hands and search with every ounce of concentration I have. My brain feels like it’s going to explode, but the pain is worth it when a warm itch prickles my palm, telling me there’s a Westerly somewhere on the other side of the basin.

I try to call it to me, but the stubborn wind won’t budge, almost like someone else is controlling it.

Could that be Audra?

Sweat drips down my face as I try to lock on to the draft’s location, but all I can tell is that the pull is coming from one of the narrow cracks in the badlands.

“Where are you going?” Gus asks as I make a break for the nearest clump of rocks.

“There’s someone down there in one of those crevices.” “Do you think it’s my dad?”

I hate myself for forgetting all about Feng. “I don’t know. I can’t even tell which crevice it’s coming from.”

“Well then, let’s check them all—but we better move quick.” We both glance back to the giant storm thing, which is flinging more rocks at the mountains.

Gus draws his wind spike and races toward the next outcropping. But halfway there I freeze.

I saw something move in one of the crevices, but it was too quick to tell what it was.