“My patience is wearing thin,” Raiden tells me. “That’s why I’ve had you brought here. One final attempt to make you see reason.”
He steps closer to the cage, slipping his hand through the bars. The closest raven nips gently at his fingers.
“Your mother trained these birds. They were our messengers.”
I meet the ravens’ beady eyes, surprised to find my mother’s connection in their gaze.
No one is ever the same once they trust my mother.
“I . . . don’t understand.”
The whole reason she came up with her bird-messenger system was so Raiden couldn’t read the coded messages she sent to the Gales—unless that was another of her brilliant lies. . . .
A tempest swirls to life inside me as questions and theories crash together. I don’t want to hear the answer, but I have to ask, “How long has she been helping you?”
“Helping me,” Raiden repeats, his laugh as frosty as the wind. “Surely you know better than anyone that your mother is always the eye of her own storm.”
It’s a fitting description.
But it only adds to my confusion. “Why are you showing me this?”
“In the hopes that past mistakes might not be repeated. Your mother and I used these birds long ago—before you. Before your father. Years and years before our more recent interactions.”
“You mean the times you tried to kill her?”
Not that I care.
My mother was trading lives—she should’ve expected to pay the same price.
But it dawns on me then that my mother might already be dead.
The last time I saw her, Raiden had sped up the winds of her Maelstrom, leaving her trapped in their draining pull.
No one was around to help—the Gales were all busy with the battle.
I’m . . . not sure what to do with that thought.
“I’ve spared you this far,” Raiden says, snapping me back to attention, “because you’re intriguing. An Easterly who speaks Westerly—”
“I don’t speak Westerly,” I interrupt.
“So you keep saying. But we both know there’s more you’re not telling me. End this ridiculous charade, or I will be forced to change my tactics—and trust me when I say you can’t imagine the pain I will rain down upon you.”
I believe him.
“Why do you want it so badly?” I ask. “Everyone claims the power of pain is greater than the power of four.”
“What about the power of four pains?” Raiden counters. “Oh, don’t look so disgusted. I seek power to rule our people. Our race has always been weak—no less pathetic than these caged birds. I’m trying to set them free. Trying to make them strong.”
“No, you’re trying make yourself strong.”
“It’s the same thing. No group can ever be strong without a strong leader. Look at the groundlings. Those powerless, talentless wastes have taken over this earth through the strength of a few great men. And yet you fault me for trying to do the same?”
“You and I have very different definitions of the word ‘great.’?”
“Indeed we do. You bonded yourself with that pitiful boy—do you honestly believe he’ll become the leader the Gales desire?”
“No,” I admit after several seconds of silence.
But Vane has other greatness to offer.
He saved me from myself.
Showed me the value in living—the value in who I am.
Even without our connection, I can still feel the strength of that gift.
“He will give our people peace,” I whisper.
“Peace,” Raiden scoffs. “Peace is taken—not given. All I’m asking for is the power to ensure that it happens. Let me rebuild our world the way it was meant to be. Let me give our people true security—a ruler who conquers everything. Even the wind.”
“The wind will never be conquered. And our people don’t want your power. Strong winds have their place, but we all crave the calm.”
“That sounds like a final answer,” Raiden says, turning back to his ravens. “Are you sure that’s what you wish?”
I have to swallow, to make sure my voice is steady as I say, “Yes.”
Raiden sighs as he reaches through the bars to stroke the birds. “I’d hoped you’d turned out smarter than your mother.”
“I did.”
“Perhaps,” Raiden agrees. “I did make her a much better offer. She had a chance to blend her power with mine—and let mine blend with hers.”
His meaning kicks in—but my brain refuses to accept it.
Even when Raiden adds, “She had a chance to be my queen.”
CHAPTER 11
VANE
Solana knows the power of pain.
I guess that’s what I get for trusting my ex.
She was supposed to be the non-psychotic, non-creepy person helping me with this rescue.
“How long have you been using it?” I ask. “Was it before or after Os told us about his new lessons?”
She doesn’t answer, but her eyes tell me all I need to know.
“Unbelievable! So you stood there tied to a tree, pretending to resist the evil new power—and you were already using it?”
“It’s not as simple as that,” she says.