I rub my shoulders, trying to keep up with my mother’s erratically shifting moods. I’ve never seen her so unstable. She seems almost . . . lost. Fragile.
Gavin’s vivid eyes glint at me through the darkness. “Why did you bring him here?”
She turns to face me but doesn’t meet my eyes. “When I got your message, I followed your trace, but it led me to your home. I didn’t realize you’d been living in such a . . .”
“Hovel?” I finish when she doesn’t.
She nods. She looks at me then, and there’s something in her expression I’ve never seen before. Takes me a second to realize it’s pity.
Or maybe regret.
“You couldn’t find anywhere better?” she asks after a second.
I shrug. Honestly, I didn’t look. I didn’t need comfort. I needed to do my job.
She wrings her hands. “Well, I saw Gavin there, and . . . I thought maybe it was time to make peace.”
I have to lock my jaw to keep it from dropping.
I know the meaning of each and every word she said, but strung together and coming from my mother’s lips they might as well be a foreign language.
“Were you really prepared to make the sacrifice?” she whispers.
“I made my oath. I intend to keep it.”
She’s silent long enough to make me fidget, and her fingers rub so hard at her cuff I’m surprised bits of black don’t flake away.
“What?” I finally ask.
“Nothing. Just . . . you really are your father’s daughter.”
The words feel warm.
That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.
“You two were always like the clouds and the sky—a perfect pair. Sometimes I didn’t know where I belonged in the mix.”
I can’t read her tone. The words are sad, but she sounds more . . . hurt.
I clear my throat. “The sky would be empty without the birds.”
She reaches toward me, like she’s trying to feel me out the same way she does with the winds. But she doesn’t step closer.
I close my eyes, concentrating on the winds surging across my skin, whipping through my loose hair. They sing of the tiny steps that bring about change. Ripples in a pond.
I’m not sure I’m ready to break the surface.
“We should send Gavin home,” I say. “He might get in the way.”
My mother drops her arm and nods. “I’ll take care of it.”
She calls Gavin, and as he flaps at her shoulder I’m surprised to realize that I trust her.
I turn to walk away—then turn back and clear my throat. “Thank you for coming to help.”
A few endless seconds pass. Then my mother whispers back, “You’re welcome.”
It’s a small, reluctant step. But maybe with time it will lead us somewhere better.
CHAPTER 49
VANE
We were So. Freaking. Close.
One more second and I would’ve finally known what it feels like to kiss the girl I love.
The red lights of the windmills wink at me through the darkness. Almost like they’re mocking me. I want to scream or throw things or . . . I don’t know, just something.
I kick the nearest windmill.
Pain shoots through my foot, and I force myself to sit down before I get really stupid and go confront Audra again.
I lean against the windmill and rub my throbbing foot. My eyes focus on my copper bracelet, remembering the careful way Audra clasped it around my wrist—after saving it for me for ten years.
She couldn’t have been pretending. Our connection goes too deep for that. And I can’t believe she would’ve come so close to kissing me if it was all an act.
But if it’s real, why can’t she screw her stupid rules and let me in? How can she choose the Gales over me?
Round and round my mind goes, trying to make some sense of the Audra roller coaster I’ve been riding. I’m not sure how much longer I can deal with the emotional whiplash.
The hours pass and I fight to stay awake through the dark silence. But after so many sleepless nights and endless days, I can’t stop myself from sinking into a dream.
I stumble through the storm. Icy flurries make me shiver. Twisting drafts push and pull, trying to knock me down or rip me away. Somehow I know where to step, how to move, how to keep my feet on the uneven ground.
“Mom?” I shout for the millionth time, my throat raw and dry. “Dad?”
The wind carries my pointless calls away. I lean into the gusts and press forward, ignoring the panic that rises in my throat and makes me want to throw up.
I’ll find them. Everything will be okay.
Two dim shapes blur through the storm and I race after them as fast as my legs will go. “Mom? Dad?”
I fight my way closer, but I still can’t really see them. A wall of wind separates us—a storm within the storm.
I don’t know if it’s safe to push through, but I have to get to my parents. I charge the winds and fall through an icy waterfall of air into the inner vortex, tumbling across the ground.
I rub the dirt and debris out of my eyes. My heart sinks.
It isn’t my parents.