“It was hanging above Raiden’s bed in Brezengarde. I took it mostly to piss him off, so he’d know I was in his room, messing with his stuff. But you’re saying it’s important?”
“Incredibly so. He never told me why, though. The most he ever said was, It helps him to remember. And like I told you, I wasn’t the type to ask questions.”
Vane’s lips twist into a cold smile. “I guess I know what to do with it now. I’ll crush it right in front of him.”
“I wonder if Os knows more about its significance,” I say, mostly to myself. “He and Raiden were close during their time in the Gales.”
“Well, you’ll be able to ask him”—my mother closes her eyes—“right about . . . now.”
The word has barely left her lips when dozens of Gales drop out of the sky, forming a circle around us, their windslicers raised for attack.
CHAPTER 41
VANE
My army doesn’t look happy to see me.
I guess I can’t totally blame them, given the fact that I kinda ran off and abandoned everybody.
Still, you’d think they’d give me at least some credit for getting Audra back and making it out of Raiden’s fortress alive.
At least there are more guardians than I was expecting. It looks like maybe fifty—and they’re all strong and healthy and loaded up with weapons.
It’d just be better if those weapons weren’t . . . y’know . . . pointed at my head.
“Thanks for coming,” I say, giving them my best no-need-to-stab-me smile.
Os ignores it and decides to kick off the convo with the worst possible question. “Where’s Gus?”
I clear my throat. “He . . . um . . .”
God—I can’t seem to say it.
These are Gus’s friends. They trained with him and fought with him and knew him way longer than I did.
Os guesses the meaning of my silence and raises his eyes to the sky.
When the rest of the Gales copy him, I figure they’re giving Gus a moment of silence. Then I realize they’re actually listening for his echo.
I do the same, surprised when it works. I’ve never heard one before—and it’s not how I’ve pictured it. I always thought it would be the last remnants of the person’s voice, saying their final goodbye. But it’s more like . . . their entire essence tangled up in a song.
“How did he die?” Os whispers, wiping his eyes.
I can barely choke out “Suicide draft.”
The term gets a mixed reaction, with only some of the Gales seeming familiar with the concept. Os explains it to the rest, and one of the Gales I don’t know steps forward.
“Does that mean you almost got him out?” he asks.
I notice he’s about my age, so he was probably friends with Gus.
“We did get him out,” I say. “And we’d almost broken free of the Stormers chasing us. And then . . .”
Poor guy looks like I just kicked him in the chest.
“What about you?” Os asks Audra. “You seem unharmed.”
I’d better be imagining his annoyed tone, because I will seriously blast him off the face of this planet.
“Only minor injuries,” Audra says, reaching back to rub her right shoulder. “Raiden mostly tried to use Gus to break me.”
“Did it work?” Os asks.
“Of course not,” she snaps. “Though Gus deserves most of the credit. He endured more than any of us will ever know.”
I notice she doesn’t mention that they had the Westerly breakthrough.
That’s probably better—especially when Os points to me and says, “And I’m assuming you two have already rebonded?”
Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaeah . . . what am I supposed to say to that?
We came close, but I was worried she wasn’t ready—and also that she had maybe developed some feelings for Gus—so I stopped it, and now she’s probably disgusted with me?
Even saying “not yet” feels too presumptuous.
So I kinda want to hug Aston when he calls from outside the circle of guardians. “Since when are the Gales so interested in teenage romance?”
The guardians spin around and create a gap in their ranks to let Aston saunter through.
“Is it really you?” Os whispers.
“In the flesh,” Aston agrees. “Well . . . mostly.” He lowers his hood and knocks everyone back a step. “If you think this is bad, you do not want me to take off this cloak.”
He waves his arms back and forth, making air whistle through the holes in his hands.
All the Gales squirm and wince.
“Now you see why I stayed away,” Aston tells them. “That, and . . .” His focus drops to his ruined fingers. “I let Raiden find my breaking point.”
“You did,” Os says after several seconds of silence. “Though I’m not sure any of us can claim the same wouldn’t happen to us. And yet here you are. Reappearing after so many years—so many battles where your knowledge and experience could’ve aided us—and you’ve chosen to stand with him.”
“You mean our king?” Aston asks when Os points at me. “Isn’t that the side we’re all on? Or did I miss something during my time in the dungeon? Don’t tell me that just because he turned out to have a mind of his own—and occasionally decides to use it—”