Let the Sky Fall

Another side effect of the water.

The longer we go without eating, the more our stomachs shrink. It’s a painful process—and why most guardians end up giving in at least once a year to stop the hunger pains.

Not me. And after ten years, my stomach had all but shrunk away.

Now the water’s revived my appetite, and the craving burns so intense, even the gruesome carcass or the rotting dates on the floor tempt me.

A flame of anger sparks, but I snuff it out. I deserve every hardship, every discomfort, and then some. My life doesn’t matter. It might as well have ended that day in the storm.

But I did survive. And earned my father’s gift—though I’ll always feel like I stole it.

I can still feel my mother’s fingers digging into my skin as she rocked my shoulders. Screaming that I took the only part of him she had left. That he shouldn’t have chosen me over her.

I still don’t know why he did.

The whispered message he sent with it left me no clue. Just, I know you will use this well, my darling Audra.

He’d wanted me to have it. So I’d breathed in, letting the wisdom and energy flood my mind as the tears streamed down my face and the last wisps of my father drifted away with the squalls.

I vowed then and there that I’d finish what he started. Become a guardian. Prepare Vane. Make him stronger than anyone ever thought he could be, so he can end Raiden’s reign of terror.

And now I’ll protect the innocent people in these arid cities from the Stormers.

Which means calling for help is my duty.

But . . . I can’t seem to make myself do it.

I don’t have a safe way to contact the Gale Force on my own. They divide the information guardians are allowed to have—and since I know everything there is to know about Vane Weston, they tell me nothing further.

It’s a safety measure that saved us four years ago, when Raiden captured two of our best. None of us know the full horrors he put them through—but he broke them. And learned the Gale’s deepest secret. That Vane survived the attack that killed his parents all those years ago.

But he didn’t learn where we’d hidden him.

And so Raiden’s relentless search began.

That’s when I finally became a guardian. Before, I was merely “in training,” and had to report to my trainer daily with my progress. Even then, the Gales worried the pressure was too much for my age and tried to force me to take breaks from my duties. But I always snuck back to watch Vane. I couldn’t risk that something would happen in the time I was away. And once Raiden knew Vane was alive, the Gales could stall my appointment no longer. Vane needed constant protection, and I was the best Gale available. I’m the youngest guardian by far, but no one can match my skill and determination. The decision was almost unanimous. Only one vote against.

My mother’s.

Not because she worried for my safety. She didn’t think me capable.

Now I have to go to her and explain what a mess we’re in. Beg for help.

All I’ve endured and survived tonight will be nothing compared to that.

Which is why I sit frozen, stroking Gavin and searching for some reserve of strength to do what needs to be done. I finally find it in the stuffy black jacket now buttoned across my chest. In the slight pull from my braid.

I rewove my hair and changed back into my uniform the second I came home. I can’t let myself forget my role.

So I give myself to the count of five to wallow in fear and pity. Then I send Gavin to his perch on the windowsill, order him to carry away his mutilated carcass before I return, and push myself off the floor.

I call two of the Northerlies I sent from the mountains and wrap them around me with barely a breath. Their song of power and endurance fills my mind as they float me away.

I haven’t flown this path since the day I left four years ago, but the way is scarred into my brain. Over the hills, past the forest of spiky, twisted Joshua trees to the small, square house hidden in a stretch of desert so vast and empty I’m not sure the groundlings have any idea it exists. Which is why the Gales chose it.

The house is dark, but she’s home. I can feel her presence in the chill in the air. In the tightness in my chest.

I send the winds away, touching my feet to the soft sand quieter than a cat stalking its prey. Still, a slight movement near the window tells me she knows I’m here. Nothing can sneak up on her. It’s another of her gifts, and it only failed her once.

But that was my fault.

Birds of all shapes and sizes watch me from their rooftop perches as I cross the sparse yard, their glassy eyes glowing in the moonlight. They’re drawn to her, abandoning their instincts in order to stay within her reach. Years ago they would’ve greeted me like their kin. Filled the air with their ringing songs as they swooped and swirled, brushing my skin with their silky feathers.