Let the Storm Break (Sky Fall #2)(83)

“But you have to protect yourself, Vane.The Westerly language—”

“Doesn’t seem to be as valuable as everyone thought it would be. Or at least I’m not as valuable as everyone thought I would be.”

Audra pulls me tighter, whispering in my ear—and seriously messing with my concentration—“You’re incredibly valuable, Vane, and not just to me.”

I sigh. “I have to do this, Audra. But you don’t. You should go back—”

“I’m not going to let you risk your life without me.”

“And I’m not letting either of you risk your lives without me,” Gus says, swooping up beside us. “Come on, you didn’t really think I wouldn’t follow you, did you?”

He grins when I glare at him.

“Anyone else back there I should know about?” I ask.

“Nah. Os thinks I’m here to drag you two back to the base. He’s moving everyone else into position.”

“I’m not turning around, Gus,” I warn him.

“Oh, believe me, I know. And I’m in for whatever. What are you thinking?”

“That we have to fly faster.”

The Storms have slammed onto the desert floor, tearing into the neighborhoods that sit against the mountain. I try to tell myself that Palm Springs is a snowbird area and that most of the houses are probably empty. But I still feel sick when I hear the crunching chaos of the destruction.

“We should try to get beside them,” Gus shouts as he veers right, expecting me to follow.

I order my drafts to race forward instead.

“What are you doing?” Audra yells as Gus loops around to join us.

“The Storms are heading toward highway 111, which will take them right through the heart of the desert, into all the superpopulated areas. We need to get them to follow us to the other side of the freeway, where nothing’s been built yet. And it’s better to do that up here.”

This part of the desert is all country clubs and mansions, and none of the rich people bother suffering through the summer heat. I’m sure it’s not empty—but at this point it’s too late to save everyone. All I can do is save as many as possible.

“We need to move faster,” Audra tells me, calling for more Westerlies. Only one responds, so she shouts for any nearby Easterlies and two sweep in to help us.

Gus does the same with Northerlies and manages to hail three.

“Does it seem strange to you that there are still healthy winds around?” Audra asks.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” I admit. “But maybe the valley is too big to clear completely?”

Audra doesn’t look convinced.

“Let’s worry about it later,” I tell her as the wild, dusty air slams against us, trying to rip us apart.

I let Audra take over flying and she guides us close enough that I can see the Living Storms’ shadowy faces. They look like the monsters I remember—but they’re way bigger this time, and I try not to feel like a tiny bug taking on a giant.

“Now what?” Gus shouts.

“We need to make it notice us.”

“I think it already does!” Audra screams, right before the air fills with an earsplitting shriek.

“Dive!” I yell as Gus shouts, “What is that thing?” and a loud crack explodes in the air above us.

The force of the blast knocks me off balance, and Audra barely pulls us out of a free fall.

Another explosion sends a shock wave rippling behind us.

Gus races to our side. “Oh, good, Raiden gave them weapons.”

“Wind whips,” I grumble. Because evil, mutated Storms weren’t bad enough.

“Look out!” Gus shouts as the whip cracks again—and then again—each hit coming so close that we almost miss the more important development.

The Storms have started to chase us.

“Faster!” Audra tells Gus, calling more winds to fuel our weary drafts as we race toward the empty desert in the distance.

“Wait—is that Gavin?” I ask, pointing to a dark shape weaving through the sky.

Audra leans forward, squinting at the horizon. “No. The bird is too big—and its feathers are black.”

“But it’s coming straight for us.”

“Can you take over windwalking for a minute?” she asks, already changing positions.

“Uh, not if you’re calling over a giant bird.”

“Really? You’re still afraid of them?”

“You and Gavin scarred me for life.”

“Well, it’s time to conquer your fears.”

The bird swoops closer, circling above us before it dives.

I can hear Gus laugh as I yelp, but I’d like to see him hold steady while some huge bird lands on his shoulder midflight. And bonus: It’s a vulture, so not only is it huge and heavy with razor sharptalons; it smells like dead stuff.

Audra wraps her legs tighter around me and reaches up to check the feathers on its stinky black wings.

And then checks them again.

And again.

“It’s a message from your mother, isn’t it?” I ask, feeling a bit of déjà vu from the last time something like this happened—though that had at least been a small white dove.

Audra nods, her body shaking so hard I feel like I’m going to lose my grip on her.