“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Solana promises.
He looks pissed at her answer, and the last thing we need is a big scene, so I tell him, “It’s going to happen far away from here. Just don’t forget what I said about getting everyone out when the storm clears. And keep them away from the windows for the next bit too.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Let’s just say there’s a chance the storm will get a lot stronger once we head out there.”
I can tell he thinks I’m a million miles beyond crazy, and in some ways he’s kind of right.
“Thanks for the help,” I tell him.
“And the clothes,” Solana adds.
“You can thank the other guests for those. Everyone searched their suitcases for spare things. Keep that in mind when you do . . . whatever it is you’re going to do out there. You owe these people.”
“We do,” I say, and he must believe me, because he leaves us there and calls for everyone to get back when we open the door.
The cold crashes into us like a tidal wave, the winds trying to knock us over as we sink into the thigh-deep snow. We have to hold hands and trudge together to make any progress, and Audra makes a point of clinging to Solana instead of me.
Aston emerges from the trees after we’ve distanced ourselves from the building. “Judging by the tension radiating from the three of you,” he calls over the storm, “I’m guessing there’s a rather interesting story to tell.”
“How is my mother?” Audra asks.
“Ah, so you are concerned about her. Then perhaps it’s happy news that she’s very much alive and resting just over there.” He points to a clump of trees on the far side of the hotel. “She’s a bit unhappy about the branch I had to remove from her shoulder, but I keep telling her holes are the new rage. She’s also in a delicious amount of pain. I think I absorbed two fixes already.”
“Fixes?” Audra asks.
“That’s how she’s repaying me for helping. Didn’t Loverboy tell you? What have you two been talking about?”
“Gus,” I jump in, glad when Aston’s cocky smile fades. “We’ve also been coming up with a plan to take down Raiden.”
“Having any luck with that one?” Aston asks.
“It’s still a work in progress,” I admit. “But we know we’re taking a pipeline to Nebraska and luring him there so he can’t hurt any more humans.”
“And I presume you know how to aim your pipeline to make sure you don’t blast us to the other side of the planet?” Aston asks as I gather enough winds to weave one with the power of four.
“Not really,” I admit. “But I’m going to trust the wind. I’ll tell it where we need to go, and hopefully it’ll take me there. And wait—did you say ‘us’?”
I thought this was the part where Aston tells me it’s a horrible, stupid plan and he’ll be zipping back to his cave.
Instead he says, “I’ll go check on Arella. Let me know when we’re ready to leave.”
“We?” Solana asks, clearly as surprised as I am.
“Of course. I can’t trust you three not to screw this up—and if you do, Raiden will be far too powerful for my liking. And Arella needs some time for a heart-to-heart with her daughter.”
“Uh-uh,” I say. “You can come, but she stays away. I don’t trust her, and Audra—”
“No, it’s fine,” Audra interrupts. “We’re going to need her.”
“Her gift isn’t worth it,” I argue.
“Maybe not, but she’ll be valuable in other ways.”
“Like what?” I ask. “Betraying us? Making sure we’re captured?”
“Well now, entertaining as this lovers’ spat is, I’d better go gather your mother,” Aston tells us. “I wonder how her injury will fare through the pipeline. Here’s hoping it’s excruciating.”
He trudges off to get Arella, and I start building the pipeline, whispering a plea to the Westerly for it to get us to Nebraska in one piece.
The wind’s song doesn’t change, so I have no idea if it’s going to help. Still, I give the final command and spin the drafts into the sky-high funnel we need.
“Oh good, our transport looks even more unstable than I imagined,” Aston says, hobbling over, carrying Arella like a baby.
Her shoulder is tied in a shred of his cloak, and her skin has about as much color as the flurries of snow. But her eyes are open and her breaths look steady, so it’s better than I was expecting.
Until Arella draws her windslicer.
“Oh, relax,” she says as I grab the nearest winds and weave them into a wind spike. “I only wanted to give this to my daughter. I thought she might be glad to have a weapon. And she’s rendered my sword arm quite useless.”
Audra hesitates a moment before she takes the windslicer.
She slashes it a few times, and doesn’t put it away.
I decide to keep my wind spike as well. It can’t hurt to have a solid weapon handy.
Arella points to the pipeline. “I’m sure Raiden can see that—if he hasn’t picked up your traces already.”