Let the Storm Break (Sky Fall #2)(52)

The dust is so thick it coats my tongue, but I force myself to concentrate, searching for a hint of warmth or some sign of contact in the other winds. I feel like I’ve swallowed half the desert before I finally feel the electric tingle I need.

I tighten my grip on Gus’s hand and we take off running, him slashing anything in our path and me following the heat in the air until I crash into a bare chest.

“Thank God you’re okay,” Vane says as I wrap my shield back around me and call one for him.

I wait for the Westerlies to blanket us like second skins. Then I fall into Vane’s arms and cling to him as tightly as I can.

Vane squeezes me back, but his arm bumps the gash in my side, and I hate myself for wincing.

He pulls away, staring at the blood on his hand. “I’ll kill Raiden.”

“No—he’s mine.” Gus insists.

“Actually—you’re both wrong,” Raiden calls, parting the dust enough to show where he’s been hiding. He’s coated in sickly gray winds and he looks pale and green from their effects. But they seem to let him breathe in the storm. “Once again, you’ve managed to impress me with your powers. But it’s time to stop these foolish games. Call off this ridiculous haboob and I promise I’ll let you all live.”

“Or we kill you now,” Gus says, holding up Raiden’s windslicer.

“Try it, see what happens.”

I put my hand on Gus’s shoulder to stop him. I’m sure Raiden isn’t bluffing.

The Westerlies crash again, but Raiden doesn’t even flinch.

We won’t be able to get away from him—not unless we do something new. And that’s when I realize that my Westerly has changed its song again.

Every verse now ends with the same word—like it’s begging me to listen to the clue. The command doesn’t make sense, but this draft hasn’t failed me so far.

I tighten my grip on Gus and Vane and shout, “Fuse!”

The Westerlies shift direction, collecting together, swelling thicker and stronger. I’d thought the storm was chaos before, but now it’s an impenetrable wall of choking dust that traps all the Stormers—even Raiden—in the heavy air that Gus, Vane, and I are allowed to move through with ease. Our Westerly shields must be telling the other winds to let us pass.

We run as fast as we can, not looking back as the ground gets steeper. And the higher we climb, the more the air clears until we’re finally able to gather the winds we need for a pipeline.

“Wait,” Vane shouts, adding a Westerly to the mix before I give the final command.

Then he takes my hand, grabbing Gus with his other as he shouts “Enhance!” and the vortex expands around us, blasting us out of the valley.





CHAPTER 27


VANE





I

can’t believe we’re alive.

Well . . . for now.

I don’t know how long that crazy wind-sludge stuff will trap Raiden in Death Valley, but I’m betting it’s asking too much for it to last few hundred years. Odds are, we have a couple of hours. Maybe less.

The vortex spits us out into the open air, and I do useful things like scream and flail while Audra unravels the pipeline and Gus gathers Southerlies and tangles them around us to slow our fall. At least I remember to release the Westerly shields. We owe our lives to those weary drafts. They deserve to be free.

The winds around Gus and me zip into the gray twilight sky. But Audra’s shield tightens its grip, and from the smile on her face I can tell she wants it to stay. Only Audra could make a Westerly her new pet.

“Where are we?” Gus asks when we touch down in the middle of yet another desert. I’m starting to wonder if that’s all there is in this freaking state when I realize we’re not actually in California anymore.

The skyline in the distance has a castle, an Eiffel Tower, and a blinking neon pyramid. Leave it to me to blast us all the way to Vegas.

“Looks like we’re at least three hours from home. Unless someone wants to hit the buffets first? Or maybe get married by Elvis?”

I realize the awkward mess I’ve stepped in the second the joke leaves my mouth.

“That’s not a proposal,” I tell Audra, wondering if her cheeks are as red as mine feel. It’s hard to tell in the dim moonlight. “I would never—well, I don’t mean never—I just mean . . . I would do it way better than that—not that I’m thinking about proposing—at least not now—I just . . .”

Please, somebody kill me now.

Then Gus clears his throat and I realize there’s a whole other level of awkward to this situation.

I sigh. “Listen. I know I can’t ask you to—”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone,”Gus interrupts.“This one’s your mess. I’m staying out of it.”

Well, that’s good—I guess. I don’t know, I’m kinda over the whole “hiding it” thing. But I’ll have to talk to Audra and see how she feels about going public.

“But just so I’m clear,” Gus adds, “she’s the one you were sneaking off to the mountains to check for all the time, right?”

“All the time?” Audra repeats.

“Every chance I could,” I admit. “Finding your trace was the only thing that kept me going.”