“It’s . . . hard to explain. It involves things your mind is not yet ready to understand. I’ll tell you when the time is right.”
I open my mouth to argue, but my brain is already twisting in a thousand different directions. I’m not sure I can handle a long, complicated explanation—especially about such a painful subject.
I sink to the ground, leaning against one of the windmill bases. The soft vibration seeps through my thin blue T-shirt, and I can’t help wishing I could rewind the last few hours and go back to being the regular guy with the weird dream stalker and the blank past.
How am I supposed to go home or see my friends, knowing what I know now? How am I ever supposed to be normal again?
I’ve crossed a line. I feel maxed out. But there’s one thing I have to know. “Why am I still alive?”
“What?”
“The day my family died. How did I survive?”
“My—” She stops, like she can’t push the words out. “My father saved you.”
“Your father? But . . .”
“What?”
“I always thought you saved me.”
Her eyes drop to the ground. “I was there. But I wasn’t strong enough.”
Her voice catches, and it occurs to me that this is a painful memory for her, too. I clear my throat, struggling to find a sensitive way of wording my next question. “And your father. He’s . . .”
“Dead,” she whispers. “He sacrificed himself to save you.”
I don’t know what to say as she turns her back to me and walks off. Only a tiny sliver of moon lights the sky, and she vanishes into the darkness. I fight off a wave of panic. She wouldn’t leave me here, would she?
No. I’ve never had any reason to believe she means me any harm. Except tonight.
“What did you mean earlier?” I ask quietly.
“Earlier?” Her voice is a faceless sound in the darkness. Like she really is a ghost.
“When you woke up in my room. You said I killed everyone.”
A long stretch of silence passes before she speaks. “Water weakens us. Same with food. It ties us to the ground, which limits our capabilities—”
“Whoa—you’re saying I can’t eat?” That definitely falls into the not cool category.
“Your body’s not ready for that kind of sacrifice yet. The starvation would actually make you weaker right now, since you’re so reliant on earthly foods. But soon you’ll have to start working your way toward it, if you want to reach your full potential. The closer to the wind we are, the more powerful we can be. I’ve been denying myself for years to be at my peak strength. Now the water’s weakened me.”
That makes about as much sense as the quadratic functions we studied last year. “It was half a bottle of water. It’ll be out of your system by tomorrow.”
“Our bodies don’t work that way. Anything physically of this earth is at odds with the wind. Even the tiniest bit of something as small as water will severely limit what I can do—for months. And it couldn’t have happened at a more crucial time.”
I hear a scraping sound, like she kicked the ground.
“Why is now so crucial?”
“Because Raiden knows we’re here. He’s the most powerful Windwalker alive, and he’s been trying to find you for years. I did everything I could to shield you, but now his Stormers—his warriors—are coming to capture you, and if we run, they’ll tear the whole valley apart looking for you. Thousands of people could die. And the Stormers will find our trail and hunt us down. Our only option is to fight, and if I’m not at my full strength, our chances . . . aren’t good.”
Somehow I’m on my feet, though I don’t remember deciding to stand. “All of that over me? Why—why am I so important? I’m no one.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Vane. You’re our only hope.”
I have to laugh. It sounds so Princess Leia. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi.
“I think you have the wrong guy.”
“Believe me, I don’t. You’re probably the most important person alive at the moment.”
And . . . my brain pretty much shuts down.
In one night I find out I’m not human, that my parents were murdered, and that the same evil punk who killed them is sending warriors to get me because I’m supposed to be some big important person—even though I’m no one. Oh, and we can’t run, can’t hide, and can’t win in a fight. It kinda makes me want to do something lame like pinch my arm and hope I wake up.
But I’m not dreaming. I can feel the breezes streaking across my face. And I’m definitely not imagining the songs floating on the wind. The melodies satisfy a craving I’ve always felt but never knew how to understand.