She flutters to my shoulder, bending her slender neck to peck at my necklace.
I left behind the jacket from my uniform, but I never removed the guardian pendant the Gales gave me. The cord is vivid blue, flowing with the life I breathed into it when it became mine.
My hand clutches the silver feather pendant, and somehow touching the cool, smooth metal gives me the courage to accept the truth.
“It’s time to go home,” I whisper, hoping I haven’t destroyed everything that matters by leaving.
The pull of my bond feels sharper than ever, so I have to believe Vane’s still safe. And soon enough I’ll be back to do my job.
The dove flaps her wings and takes to the sky, circling above me as I stand and dust off my sandy clothes. I reach for my hair and smooth it back, hesitating only a second before I divide it into five equal sections and weave them into a tight, intricate braid.
The style of a guardian.
I am a guardian.
And I’ll never let myself forget it again.
CHAPTER 5
VANE
I
must’ve looked pretty bad when Gus brought me home because my mom flipped.
I barely had a chance to explain what happened—minus all the ultra-embarrassing stuff, of course—before she ordered me to my room and spent the next hour bandaging my Gus-bite and forcing me to choke down giant glasses of blended vegetables.
My mom’s been on a juice kick ever since she found out I’m a sylph, like she’s convinced she can turn me human again if she just gives me enough liquefied celery. It sorta makes me wish I had to give up eating and drinking, but the Gales think I’m too weak to handle that kind of sacrifice right now. Plus, now that we know Raiden can destroy the world with only a few words, shifting into our wind form is really not the best battle strategy. So brownishgreen sludge every morning it is!
Honestly, though, my mom’s been strangely cool about the whole my-adopted-son-is-an-air-elemental thing. She didn’t scream or run away when I told her—even when I showed her how the wind obeys all my weird, hissy words. And my dad just clapped me on the back and told me to remember that this kind of power comes with extra responsibility, like he expected me to put on spandex and start calling myself Windman!
I’m surprised he didn’t buy me a cape.
Fang was the one who freaked out about them knowing. But I don’t care if the Gales have a code of secrecy. They’re my family. I may not look like them—and I may not even be the same species. But they’re the only parents I’ve ever really known, and I wasn’t going to lie to them.
Besides, how was I supposed to explain why I was suddenly surrounded by a bunch of guys with long, braided hair and black soldier uniforms? And no way was I moving to the Gales’ new base a couple of miles away. Raiden knows where I live. My family needs just as much protection as I do. Maybe more, since they can’t exactly defend themselves against wind warriors.
A cool breeze slips through my window and I know it’s a Westerly before I even listen to its song. I swear they come to find me, and I always keep my window open for them—even if it lets out all the AC and makes my bedroom feel like an oven. I need to have the wind around. It makes my heritage feel real, and like maybe the tangled-up, scattered memories of my past will unravel someday and actually make sense.
Plus, I always want Audra to have a way to reach me. I close my eyes and let the soft whispers float around me, promising myself I will not fall asleep. But it’s hard. I’ve reached that point of exhaustion where everything actually aches. If I could just nap for ten minutes—even five—I would take it.
“You up for a visitor, Vane?” my mom asks.
I yank my eyes open as she leans through my doorway. “Uh, sure.”
I’m assuming it must be Fang, come to rip me a new one. But when my mom steps aside, a Gale I’ve never seen before strides into my room.
On the left side of his face, part of his long, dark hair is twisted into a braid that’s tucked behind his ear. The rest hangs loose—a style worn only by Gale Force leaders.
Ruh-roh.
He clears his throat and stares at my mom, waiting for her to leave. I watch her jaw lock, and I know she’s about to remind them that this is her house. But I give her my best please don’t embarrass me in front of my army look and she caves, promising to be back in a few minutes with my breakfast.
When her footsteps have retreated down the hall, the Gale leader steps forward. He has two red scars on his cheek that cross and look almost like a T, and they stretch as he gives me a thin smile. “It’s nice to finally meet the king.”
I fidget when he bows. “Um, you can just call me Vane.”
“As you wish.”
He stares at my wrinkled Batman T-shirt, looking less than impressed. But he can glare all he wants, I’m not wearing their stupid uniform.
“And you are . . . ?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
“Captain Osmund—though you can call me Os. I’m the captain of the Gales.”