I think this was what he wanted. He never got over losing my mom.
Now he doesn’t have to miss her anymore.”
The only thing I can say is what we’re always supposed to say at
a moment like this. But this time I force myself to believe it’s true.
“Now they’re together in the sky.”
Gus nods and looks away.
I leave him alone, heading toward the door.
“You don’t have to stay with me,” I tell him when he follows. “Vane will kill me if I let you out of my sight. And it’s probably
better if I stay out of Os’s way right now.”
I can feel all the guardians watching us as we make our way to
the date grove. It’s strange to see so many of them gathered together.
During my training they always worked in small groups. Bases of
five or ten at the most, to make sure we never opened ourselves up to
too many casualties. And once I was assigned to Vane, I was alone. If Raiden’s killed forty-one Gales—even if twenty-nine of those
were his recent capture—he must’ve taken down most of the nearby
bases. And if he wins today he’ll have wiped out the bulk of our
Pacific Fleet. I wish we had time to call the other fleets for aid, but
I’m sure that’s why Raiden is moving quickly. He doesn’t want us to
have a chance to regroup.
My legs feel heavy as we weave through the familiar overgrown
trees, but I stuff my exhaustion away. I’m no stranger to sleepless
nights.
Still, I wish I had time to steal away to the mountains for fresh
air to revive me. Instead I head straight to the sun-bleached walls of
my shelter.
Vane was right about the mess, and paired with the heat and
the bugs swarming everywhere, it’s hard to imagine that I actually
lived here. I never truly thought of this place as my home, but as I
cross into the small corner of shade under the few remaining eaves,
I realize that, for better or worse, these crumbling walls know the
story of my life.
I pull my windslicer from the slit I carved into the floor and
check the needles to make sure they’re not bent or tarnished. “This must’ve been a tough assignment,” Gus says, kicking away
a couple of date roaches. “I don’t know how you did it. I mean, living
in this piece of crap, having to stay hidden, putting up with Vane—
though clearly that last one wasn’t as challenging for you.” “Actually, having feelings for Vane was the hardest part. Despite
what you may think, I did try to fight them.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine, Gus. You don’t have to pretend that you don’t think I’m
a traitor for bonding to him.”
“Good, because I don’t.”
I nearly prick my finger on a needle. “You don’t?”
He crunches a few more roaches as he comes to stand beside me.
“No. It’s a mess—I’ll give you guys that. But if this is what you both
want, I don’t think the Gales should have the right to interfere. And
I will never support them if they try to break you apart.” I’m almost too stunned to speak. But I manage a weak “Thank you.” That’s one vote in our favor at least. I wonder how many others . . . “How does it even work?” he asks quietly. “Like, how do you
break a bond?”
“Aston didn’t say. He told me our instincts can guide us if we
decide to do it ourselves, and that it’s a bit like shifting forms.
But if someone does it to you, all he said is that it would be very
unpleasant.”
Gus shudders. “Sounds like an understatement.”
“Yes, it does.”
The holes in Aston’s skin flash through my mind.
Vane is so much a part of me now, I can’t imagine I’d be any
less scarred if someone ripped him away. But I shove my worries
to the same place I shoved my weariness. I have a lot of wind
spikes to make.
I build them the new way Vane used, with only one of each
wind united together. They turn sleek and deep blue and more
deadly than I even remember, and with each new spike, I whisper
a silent plea that I’m making the right choice by sharing them
with the Gales.
“Is that your bird?” Gus asks, pointing to the top of the tallest
palm. “Because that would explain a lot. Freaking thing screeches his
head off every morning at sunrise, and the only reason I didn’t blast
him across the country is because Vane wouldn’t let me.” I smile sadly. “Gavin was used to me coming home at that time.” It takes several deep breaths to work up the courage to finally
look where Gus is pointing.
I could’ve taken Gavin with me when I left, could’ve let him
fly beside me for my journey, the way he did every day since he
became mine. But after all the ways my mother lied and deceived
me through him, all the misplaced blame and guilt—even though it
wasn’t Gavin’s fault—I couldn’t have him with me.
Even now, as I stare into his angry red-orange eyes, part of me
wants to look away. But then I’d be as bad as her, turning my back on
someone who needs me, simply because it hurts.