But I hate it.
I hate knowing about it, and I hate that I’m wondering if I have the power to stop it, and I especially hate that I’m sort of responsible for it.
If I hadn’t turned her in and made sure the Gales knew what she’d done, she’d . . .
Still be crazy and killing people.
This is her fault—not mine.
She stays quiet after that, and I close my eyes, trying to make this awful night worth it. If I don’t get some sleep, Os might make me stay here again, and I’m pretty sure I will lose it if that happens.
But every passing minute makes the ground harder and the air thicker and my skin itchier. So I’m ready to cry with relief when the mesh curtain to my cell finally opens and Os walks in.
He frowns as he looks at me. “You don’t look rested.”
“This isn’t exactly the most relaxing place.”
“No. But I’d hoped you’d find a way.”
“I can think of one,” Arella offers.
Os glares at her until she backs away from the chains. “Are you up for the journey back?” he asks me.
I’m wiped, and the freeway part’s going to suck, but I am so ready to get out of here.
“Vane,” Arella calls as I make my way to the exit. “I know I have no right to ask this, but I’m hoping you’ll tell Audra to come see me. It’d be nice to say goodbye.”
The plea in her eyes is hard to ignore. It looks too much like a last request. “When she comes home, I’ll try.”
Arella straightens. “Audra’s gone?”
“Yes,” Os grumbles, and I want to kick myself for being so stupid. “She’s been gone for weeks. Searching for the mysterious third Stormer.”
Arella glances at me and I shake my head, begging her to drop it.
I’ve never been a very good liar, and when the Gales demanded to know where Audra was, the best story I could come up with was that she was out hunting down the Stormer I’d knocked out of the sky when I escaped. It seemed like a believable enough excuse. Until they found his body. Then Fang cornered me about it and the only thing I could think of was to say that I’d meant a third Stormer who’d been part of the attack.
“We never found any trace of a third Stormer,” Os says, looking at me the same way they all look at me when they point that out.
“Well, you wouldn’t have,” Arella jumps in, tossing her greasy hair. “I was the only one who could detect him.”
“You?” Os repeats.
She flashes her most dazzling smile and for a second she looks more like the old Arella I remember. “You know I have a gift.”
Os nods, actually believing her.
“Can we go now?” I ask, needing to get of this place before I go crazy and start trusting Arella.
She did just help me, though.
Big-time.
We make the long walk back to the surface, and it’s twice as miserable the second time—and not just because I’m more exhausted than ever.
Everything I’ve just seen and learned feels like it’s dragging me down, and I can still hear Arella’s words in my mind, echoing with every step:
Os crossed a line that shouldn’t be crossed.
Is she right?
This place is beyond horrible. But . . . I can also remember how pained Os looked as he described the hungry winds to me.
And the scar carved into his face is a mark Raiden gave him to punish him for choosing the good side.
Plus, it’s not like he locked an innocent person in his Maelstrom. He locked Arella—and I have to believe she deserves to be there, no matter how different she might seem.
Still, it feels especially eerie when we reach the open air and I notice all the giant black birds lining the rocks all around us. I remember seeing them on my way in, and I remember Audra telling me that birds are drawn to her mother—one of the few things the two of them have in common.
But I can see now that these are vultures.
I don’t want to think about what they’re waiting around for.
We race even harder on the way home—like both of us can’t get away from the Maelstrom fast enough—and I draw what energy I can from the wind. But I wish I could feel Audra’s trace.
The pull of our bond is so weak it’s almost like it’s not there, and that’s not what I needed after all my crazy doubts.
“I have something special planned for you today,” Os tells me as the Coachella Valley comes into view—stretches of green and color that seem totally out of place surrounded by so much barren desert. “A new trainer.”
“Really? I’m done with Fang?”
I can’t say I’m sad. The guy blasts the crap out of me every session.
But Os shakes his head. “Feng and Gus are still your guardians, and you will continue to train with Feng for the Northerlies. But it’s time you start practicing with Southerlies.”