Let the Storm Break (Sky Fall #2)

“Because it wasn’t.”


“But how do you know—and don’t give me some pointless answer like ‘I just do.’ You’ve never given teaching us a chance. How do you know it won’t feel differently if you try?”

“Because I didn’t feel like that with Audra!”

Gus cringes, and I realize he never told Os that important detail—which was probably the right call.

“What does he mean?” Os asks, reeling on Audra. “Did he teach you Westerly?”

Say no! I want to beg her. Lie to cover my mistake.

But Audra squares her shoulders, glancing quickly at me before she turns to face Os and says, “Yes.”





CHAPTER 34


AUDRA





I

could’ve lied.

I almost did.

But in the split second that I had to think, I realized there’s a bigger secret that I need to keep. And this is the best way to hide it. “Yes, he taught me,” I tell Os, silently begging Vane and Gus to

go along with this. “After we bonded. He wanted to make sure I had

extra protection, but I was only able to learn a couple of commands.” “That didn’t trigger a breakthrough?” Os asks.

“I’d hoped it would. But no.” I’m proud of how smooth the lie

sounds. “I’ve memorized the words, and I know what they mean

because he translated them for me. But the language is still a mystery.” Vane frowns, and I can tell both he and Gus are trying to figure

out what I’m doing. Thankfully, neither of them corrects me. If Os knew that Vane passed his heritage to me through our

bond, I’m sure he would expect the same phenomenon to happen

with Vane and Solana—and the possibility alone would sway the

Gales to vote to break our bond and try it.

Maybe it would work.

Maybe it wouldn’t.

But Vane is mine.

Solana has pretty dresses and a pretty gold bracelet and the

pretty future the Gales promised her. But I have a lifetime of knowing Vane, protecting Vane, sacrificing everything to keep him safe.

And he chose me.

I won’t let the Gales take him away.

I won’t let them know how powerful I am, either.

As much as I hate to be underestimated, it can also be an advantage. And if Os is harnessing the power of pain, I need all the advantage I can get.

“Did you know about this?” Os asks Gus.

Gus shrugs. “The battle was so chaotic it was hard to tell what

was going on.”

Os looks less than satisfied with that answer, but he turns back

to Vane. “And you won’t teach me the same commands you gave her?” “I told you, my instincts won’t let me.”

“What about Solana? Her family was chosen as our royals for

their kind, generous manner, and she’s been the only one able to calm

your nightmares—twice now.”

The reminder of my earlier failure cuts deeper than a windslicer.

So does the hope shining in Solana’s bright eyes.

But Vane’s words heal the pain. “I only trust Audra.” Os reels back toward me, his disgust so obvious it might as well

be a sign around his neck. “And what commands have you been privileged enough to learn?”

“Why do you care?” Vane demands before I can answer. “Because I’m trying to strategize! If you won’t teach the rest of

us, the least you can do is tell me her strengths so I can organize our

formation accordingly.”

I choose only things they would see me use during the fight. “He

taught me how to call a Westerly. And how to weave all four winds

into a spike.”

“The same spikes Gus used when he defeated the Living

Storm?” Os asks, stepping closer when I nod. “We need those for

this battle. If you won’t teach us to weave them, at least supply them

for the others.”

I’d thought of that earlier—and it seems like a fair compromise.

But the idea of handing over that kind of power turns my stomach.

Vane must feel just as torn, because when I look at him he shakes his

head—but it doesn’t seem like a “no.”

It looks more like he’s leaving the decision up to me. “Please,” Os whispers. “I don’t want to lose any more of my

guardians.”

For a moment he looks like the Os I remember—the valiant

captain staring at me with a mix of fear and respect.

I don’t understand or agree with his recent methods, but I know

he’s trying to protect our people.

That doesn’t mean I can trust him, though.

I try to think through everything I’ve learned about the Westerlies, hoping there’s some clue that will tell me what they’d want me to do. They’re brave and loyal. Steady and peaceful. And yet, the command that finally allowed our escape from Death Valley was an aggressive word—almost violent. I never would’ve thought to give that kind of command to a Westerly. But that was what my shield told me to use, like it knew there are times when we have to push beyond what feels comfortable and go with something more

extreme.

I take a deep breath, looking at Vane as I say, “I’m willing to

weave one spike for every guardian. Only one.”