“Hm. I believe you,” Aston says. “Though you realize that comes with challenges.”
“I don’t care—there has to be a way to do it.”
I know what they’re discussing.
I know it’s my cue to be strong and join them. That’s what Gus is counting on. He wants me to keep fighting.
But I can’t help whispering, “Raiden always wins.”
“Not always,” a new voice says, and my blood boils when I realize it’s my mother.
“How would you know?” I shout. “Do you think you beat him just because you refused to be his queen?”
“Wait—what?” Vane asks as my mother blanches.
By the time she answers, her voice is as smooth as ever, and I want to claw her eyes out. “I wondered if he’d tell you.”
“Is that why you’re here?” I ask. “To figure out how many of your secrets I uncovered?”
“No. I came to help my daughter.”
“Help me? YOU LET RAIDEN TAKE ME!”
I tear away from Vane, grabbing my mother by her shoulders. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? What he did to me?”
Vane’s strangled choke makes me regret the words, but it’s too late to take them back.
“Stay away from me,” I tell my mother. “I’ve had enough of your help.”
I only mean to shove her away.
But I’m not used to my new strength.
My mother flies backward, crashing into one of the trees with a crunch that sounds like breaking bone.
I don’t check to see how badly she’s hurt.
I don’t wonder about the red that splatters the snow.
I let Vane wrap his arms around me and lead me away, telling myself I’m finally free of her.
CHAPTER 37
VANE
I have no idea how badly Arella’s injured—but I can’t deal with it right now.
We have to get out of the wind—and Audra and I both need to get away from the blood.
So I leave Aston to clean up, and lead Audra over to the hotel.
Solana’s waiting for us outside the main doors.
I . . . sorta forgot about her.
I feel even crappier when I see her eyes are puffy from crying.
Gus’s death is a huge blow for her, too—he’s the whole reason she agreed to help me.
I offer her my free arm as an apology, and after a second, she takes it, leaning against my shoulder as the three of us make our way into the lobby.
The place is huge—arched ceilings and dangling chandeliers. Music plays softly in the background, and it smells like flowers and money. But what throws me is the mass of people. Hundreds of them, crowding around the scattered furniture.
And of course chaos erupts when they notice the three bleeding teenagers.
They all shout on top of one another and hustle us to one of the couches.
A guy in a stuffy blazer drops to his knees beside us and starts asking ten thousand questions. I thought he might be a doctor, but he sounds more like the hotel’s manager.
He seems to think we’re hikers who got caught in the storm.
I don’t bother correcting him. It’s not like I can tell him we escaped from a sylph fortress and have an army of wind warriors trying to kill us.
“I’d call for an ambulance,” he says, “but we’re snowed in. Have been for days.”
That explains why there’s such a huge crowd in the lobby. I bet everyone’s freaking out, wondering when they’ll get home.
“That’s fine,” I tell him, since it’s not like we can take human medicine anyway. “We just need a first aid kit.”
“And maybe some clean clothes, if you have them,” Solana adds.
His eyes narrow at my leg, and I notice it’s dripping blood on their fancy rug.
“Sorry,” I mumble, covering the puddle with my shoe. “It looks worse than it is.”
“I hope so.” He turns to a girl wearing a shiny vest and a bow tie, who looks like she couldn’t possibly hate her job any more. “Can you help them to the bathrooms? I’ll meet you there with the first aid kit, and anything else I can find.”
She nods, but stares at us like she’s just been asked to defuse a bomb. “Can you guys walk or . . . ?”
I nod, and help Solana and Audra to their feet. “Just show us which way.”
The crowd parts as she tells us to follow her, and our footsteps sound too loud on the marble floor.
I notice a bunch of kids hiding their faces as we pass, and they look even more terrified when I try to smile at them.
Vest Girl heads for the ladies’ room, and doesn’t stop me when I go in with them. I set Audra on the chair—since when do bathrooms have chairs?—and she stares blankly into space.
“The paper towels are over there,” Vest Girl says, pointing to the counter. “And soap is by the sinks. And, um . . . yeah.”
“You don’t have to stay,” I tell her, when she stands there shuffling her feet. “I’m sure this isn’t going to be pretty.”
I hike up my pant leg and show her the oozing cut from the Shredder. The one on my shoulder is worse. I can feel it dripping down my back.
“Ouch,” she whispers. “Did you get attacked by a moose?”
“A moose?”
“Moose can be mean,” she explains.
There’s a joke there somewhere. But I don’t have the energy to make it.
She leaves us then, and I hobble over to a sink, catching my first glimpse of myself in the mirror. Between the mud and the blood and the red-rimmed eyes, I definitely get why the kids were hiding from zombie-Vane.
Solana looks almost as bad as she limps up beside me. She’s covered in scratches and bruises, and her leg wound has started bleeding again.
“Here,” I say, soaking a paper towel and handing it to her.
She takes it and crouches down, using it to clean the cut on my leg.
Shame burns my cheeks. “I didn’t mean for you to take care of me.”
“It’s my turn. Sorry,” she adds when I hiss through my teeth.
“It’s fine. It just stings.”
“It does.”
Her eyes turn glassy.
I pull at my sleeves, realizing I’m still wearing a Stormer uniform. I want to tear it into mangled shreds. But I should probably make sure they can find me something else to wear first.
“Are you okay?” I mumble. “Do you need to talk about . . . anything?”
Yes, I know I sound lame.
“Maybe later,” she says. “You should be helping Audra.”
My eyes stray to the chair, where Audra hasn’t moved.
“Do you think she’s in shock?” I whisper.
“I don’t see how she couldn’t be. What happened with Arella? I heard screaming,”
“Honestly? I have no idea. Arella might be okay, but . . .”
Solana closes her eyes. “I don’t hear an echo.”
“Would you really be able to hear it? We’re inside—and the storm is super loud out there.”
“I can still hear whispers of Gus’s.”
She wraps her arms around herself, and I try to hear what she’s hearing, but my senses are too dull.
Or maybe I’m too numb.
“So you don’t think Arella’s dead?” I whisper.
“I feel like we’d know if she was. She has such a powerful presence. The sky will shift when she joins it.”
I can’t decide if that’s good news or bad news.
“How exactly did Audra hurt her?” Solana asks.
“She flung her like she weighed nothing more than paper. It was crazy.”
Solana covers her mouth. “I wonder if that means Gus gave her his gift. I thought I heard something transfer as he died, but it was hard to tell.”
I guess that makes sense, given what I know about Gus’s ability. And I know it shouldn’t bother me—at least not for the reason it bothers me. But my hands still curl up so tight, my nails cut into my palms.
> “Want me to find Aston and see if he has any news on Arella?” Solana asks. “He won’t be able to come inside without drawing too much attention.”
Yeah, I can’t even imagine what would happen if he walked in here with all his holes.
“It can wait,” I tell her. “We should stay out of the wind as long as we can.”
Our eyes both drift back to Audra.
“Go,” Solana tells me. “She needs you,”
She needs someone.
But I’m not sure if it’s me anymore.
“Seriously, Vane,” Solana says, “don’t overthink it.”
I try to breathe the words in, but they feel too raw and scratchy in my chest.
“How bad do you think her wounds are under that jacket?” I whisper.
Solana bites her lip. “I don’t know. After Gus . . .”
My stomach sloshes with a fresh wave of bile as Solana soaks a stack of paper towels and hands them to me. “If you need any help, just ask.”
I give myself three deep breaths. Then I make my way over to the chair.
“Hey,” I say, crouching in front of Audra.
She doesn’t blink.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. Shake her? Wait for smelling salts?
I settle for taking her hands, surprised at how much heat sparks at her touch.
“There you are,” I whisper when her eyes slowly clear.
She turns to scan the room.
“We’re in a hotel,” I tell her. “They’re letting us use their bathroom, and they’re hopefully getting us new clothes and bandages. Do you need water or something? I know you don’t like to drink or eat, but—”
Audra shakes her head. “My mother?”
It’s such a relief to hear her voice, I have to resist the urge to throw my arms around her.
I brush the hair out of her eyes, instead. “I don’t know. But Solana doesn’t feel an echo.”
She looks just as torn by the news as I feel.
I’m trying to think of something brilliant and healing to say. Best I can come up with is: “Can I check your wounds?”
“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” I add when she flinches.
“It’s not that. I . . . don’t want you to see.”
Oh.
My face burns as I remember what I’ve learned about sylphs and underwear. I’m guessing that applies to bras and stuff too . . .
“I can turn away while you take off your jacket,” I tell her. “And then you can use it to cover your, um . . . you know.”
“I didn’t mean that,” she says, and I’m pretty sure she’s blushing.
My smile dies really quick when she says, “I don’t want you to see what he did to me.”
Fury lumps up in my throat, and it’s not easy to choke it down. It’s even harder to find the words to explain what I’m feeling.
“I hate him for hurting you, Audra. And I hate seeing you in pain. But . . . that’s it, okay? It’s not going to change anything. I’ll still . . .”
I stop myself from saying I’ll still love her.
I can’t tell if it’ll make things worse or better.
She swallows several times, then nods and starts unbuttoning her jacket.
“I’m going to turn away until you tell me it’s safe.”
I look toward the sink and find Solana watching us. She’s spinning the link on her wrist, but when we make eye contact, she goes back to cleaning the wound on her leg.
Audra takes her deepest breath yet as she tells me she’s ready.
I still need a few more seconds.
“Is it that bad?” she asks when I suck in a breath.
“No, it’s nothing like . . .” Probably better not to mention Gus.
There are only five cuts, and they’re not as deep as I’d feared.
But . . . they’re very specific.
“I know the cuts are a mark,” Audra says. “You don’t have to be afraid to tell me. What did he carve?”
I sigh and dab the three cuts on her right shoulder. “Right here, he carved a W. I’m guessing he wanted to mark you as a Westerly.”
She nods. “I suppose that’s fitting.” Her fingers tease the breeze still sliding over her skin. “It was my shield that triggered my breakthrough, if you’re wondering,” she whispers. “I didn’t even know what was happening at first. I thought I needed you there. But apparently not.”
I’m guessing she doesn’t mean the words to feel like a windslicer jab to my gut, but . . . they have that effect anyway.
“What else?” she asks, and it takes me a second to realize she’s gone back to wondering about her cuts.
I move to her left shoulder and dab the long, curved gash. “He carved his storm cloud over here. I’m guessing that was to brand you as his.”
Her hands curl into fists.
Mine are doing the same thing, wringing the red-stained water out of the paper towel I’m holding.
“And the last one?” she asks.
My fingers move to her lower back. “This one’s just a jagged line. But it’s the deepest. I think he wanted to hurt you.”
“Probably,” she mumbles. “But I still got off easy.”
“This isn’t easy.” My hands are shaking so hard, I nearly drop the paper towels.
I don’t want to ask my next question, but it has to be done. “Did he . . . I mean . . . are there any other wounds I should check? Or . . . did he . . .”
Nope. I can’t say it.
“There’s nothing else,” she says, focusing on the floor.
I turn away, so she won’t see the tears I’m blinking back. And that’s when I notice we’re not alone.
The blazer guy stands in the doorway holding two plastic first aid kits and a stack of clothing in his shaky hands.
His eyes are focused on the cuts on Audra’s back. “What happened to you guys?” he whispers. “Is it something we need to be prepared for?”
I’m guessing he’s imagining, like, serial killers or something.
If only it were that easy.
I could tell him the whole complicated truth. But I don’t have the time or the energy to make him believe me.
Plus, his question made me realize something way more important.
There are hundreds of people trapped in this hotel—and we’re putting all of them in danger just by being here.
“We’ll leave as soon as we’re done cleaning up,” I tell him as Solana takes the supplies. “And once we’re gone, you need to bar the doors. Don’t let anyone go outside.”
“Why? What’s out there?”
“Just stay out of the wind. And when the storm clears in a few hours, get everyone out of here.”
“There’s no way it’ll clear up that soon,” he argues.
But he’s wrong.
It will.
I’m going to lure Raiden away from this mountain.
And then, I’m going to end this.
CHAPTER 38
AUDRA
The groundling’s clothes feel strange against my skin.
Everything feels strange.
Especially when I check my reflection.
I look . . . normal.
A bit banged up, and definitely exhausted.
But still me, even in the tight groundling clothes.
If only I could feel like me.
I try to braid my hair, but lifting my arms pulls at the wounds on my back.
“Need help?” Solana offers.
I shake my head.
It’s not important.
I’m not really a guardian anymore.
I’m not sure what I am.
“Is it okay if I come in?” Vane calls through the door, and I feel my lips curl with half a smile.
He left us alone to get dressed in privacy, without our even asking.
“Yep, we’re all covered,” Solana says, fussing with the sleeves of her pale green coat.
Between that and the pants, it’s the most clothing I’ve ever seen her we
ar. And it makes my eyes linger on her face, which has such soft, sweet features it’s hard not to—
My thought drops away when Vane shuffles into the room.
He’s changed into dark pants and a shirt that doesn’t really count as a shirt at the moment, since he’s only managed to pull on a portion of one sleeve. The rest of the blue fabric is tangled and bunched between his neck and the thick bandage on his elbow, leaving his chest and stomach exposed and . . .
Wow.
“Can I get a little help here?” he asks.
I’m wondering how many sit-ups he’s been doing when Solana says, “I think I’ll let Audra handle this one.”
She smiles as she says it, but I hear the tight edge to her voice.
It makes me glance at Vane, wondering if he’s wishing she’d volunteered. It’s a crazy doubt, I know—but I can’t help feeling it.
Redness colors Vane’s cheeks, and he shrugs his free arm. But it’s the intensity of his eyes that makes my heart leap into my throat.
He’s focused only on me—his stare like a rope, pulling me closer.
“Getting dressed with a bum elbow is harder than it should be,” he says as I try to ease the tight fabric over his bandage. “Plus, I’m not sure if this shirt is really my size.”
It’s probably not.
Were his shoulders always this broad?
I have to lean closer to untangle a twist in his sleeve, and end up brushing my hand against his stomach.
Again. Wow.
I’m positive I’m blushing. And the air has turned tingly, making my head fuzzy.
I give his shirt a final tug to cover him, and the fabric suctions against his muscles like a second skin.
“Thanks,” Vane whispers, leaning so close his breath skips across my cheek.
His hair is damp and his face scrubbed clean, bringing back a hint of the boyishness I remember. But his features still look more angled and shadowed than they were.
These last few days have aged him.
My eyes wander back to his tight shirt without my telling them to, and I notice a necklace that must’ve been hidden by the bunched up fabric.
“You have a guardian pendant now?” I ask, sliding my finger across the blue cord.
“Actually, it’s yours,” he whispers. “Do you want it back?”
I shake my head.
I like knowing he has it. Somehow it makes the space between us feel smaller.