Let The Wind Rise (Sky Fall, #3)

Aston sounds almost dreamy as he whispers, “Yes there is. It’s the sweet bliss of power mixed with the thrill of doing something so wrong it can’t help but feel right. And it must be even better for you, getting to keep the wind swirling under your skin.”


Solana tries to blink it away, but I can see what Aston means. She looks like a junkie who just took a hit of the really good stuff, and can’t wait to get another.

“I have it totally under control,” she promises me.

“Not possible.” Aston tangles two more grayish drafts around her, and she soaks them up with a slight shiver.

“Like a true addict,” he whispers.

“That’s not fair! I can’t send them off without using the power of pain. So either way I’m affected.”

“Oh, there’s another way,” Aston says. “But the need blinds you. Believe me, darling. I know better than anyone. It’ll be more gradual for you, because you aren’t using it all the time—yet. But eventually you won’t even think of the other languages. Pain will be the only words you speak—the only words you want.”

“Which is why you need to go,” I tell her. “There’s already too many crazies on this mission. I don’t have room for any more.”

“But you need me,” she says, still fiddling with her stupid link. “I’m the only one who can get us into Brezengarde—you heard Aston. He said it’s impossible.”

“It is impossible,” Aston corrects. “But I’m sure I’ll cook up something—”

“It won’t be better than my way,” Solana argues. “I know how to find the Royal Passage. It’s the path my father escaped through—only those in my family know it exists.”

“But how do you know about it?” I have to ask.

I’m not all that up on my Windwalker history, but I’m pretty sure I remember Gus telling me her parents died when she was still a baby.

“My parents sent me their memories as they were killed—kind of like passing on a gift. I didn’t get everything. And some of them I still don’t understand. But the details of my father’s escape are incredibly clear. The fortress is mostly underground, in a web of tunnels. It’s a defense mechanism—if anyone invades, they’d have to navigate the labyrinth. But the builder also had to ensure the royal family wouldn’t get caught in the same trap. So he built the Royal Passage, a secret path in and out of Brezengarde. It’s not on any of the maps or blueprints. The only people who can find it are those in the royal line who know the trick.”

“Convenient how this is coming up now,” Aston says.

“You think I wanted to share my family’s oldest secret with her?” She points to Arella, then focuses back on Aston. “Or you? I figured I’d make sure you at least stayed loyal long enough to reach the base of Raiden’s fortress. But Vane needs proof now, so . . .”

She finishes with a shrug.

Aston circles around her. “I can’t tell if she’s bluffing. I don’t think she’s that good. But I’ve been through every inch of that fortress and I never saw anything like what you’re describing.”

“That’s the point,” Solana says.

She turns to me, the craving for her new power gone from her eyes and replaced with something that feels a whole lot more innocent. “I can get us inside the fortress. We can save them, Vane. You just have to trust me.”

“That’s the problem,” I mumble. “I don’t.”

“I do,” Arella says from behind us.

She stands on shaky legs and stumbles to our side, looking pale and sweaty and haggard. “Can’t you hear it?”

I’m pretty sure she’s proving my point about too many psychos on this mission. But I strain to listen and . . .

Yep. Nothing.

“The Southerlies’ songs have shifted,” she says, drawing the winds closer.

The drafts drift around us, and even Aston closes his eyes to listen.

“Southerlies usually mourn change,” Arella says. “And sing of things lost or slipping away. But now . . .”

The whispers are so soft I barely hear them. But all the drafts sing together, united in a single verse.

Rise beyond doubt and storm forward.

Solana blinks back tears. “They know I won’t use the power of pain against them.”

I’m pretty sure that’s not the kind of promise she can actually keep. But if the wind is going to trust her, I guess that means I have to do the same.

“Fine,” I say. “Let’s go find that secret tunnel.”





CHAPTER 12


AUDRA


Raiden proposed to my mother.

The words flit around my mind, refusing to settle.

I know my mother’s beauty and power earned her attention from many men. And I know Raiden began his career as a high-ranking Gale.

But still.

The thought of them together makes me want to laugh—and throw up in my mouth.

“It was more about mutual advantage than desire,” Raiden says, though I notice he’s still stroking one of her ravens. “But when I see her fire in you, I can’t help mourning what we could’ve created.”

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