“Hey!” I say.
“—that you’ve decided to undo a decade of planning,” Aston continues, ignoring me.
“That plan was a relic,” Os says. “From a time when we put far too much faith in the power of four.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so quick to write off the power of four,” Aston tells him. “It may work differently than how we were expecting—and at first I thought he was being lazy—”
“Again—hey!” I interrupt.
“—but I’ve realized that’s how the power functions,” Aston finishes. “It’s about trusting the wind, relinquishing your control and handing it over to the sky. That’s the Westerlies’ influence, I suspect. They like to make up their own mind, not be told what to do. So should we really be surprised their people are just as stubborn? You’re only mad because he won’t go along with your little betrothal plan. But surely you’ve realized by now they never would’ve worked out anyway.”
“Dude!” I say at the same time Solana says, “Hey!”—though I’m not sure why I’m arguing.
“Oh, you know it’s true,” Aston tells us. “You’ve been traveling together less than a week, and you’ve been at each other’s throats most of the time.”
Yeah, but half of our fights were because of the betrothal hanging over us.
Then again, why am I defending this?
“The matter of his marriage is only one of many points that we do not see eye-to-eye on,” Os reminds us.
“Yes. I can see that.” Aston steps closer, leaning in to stare into Os’s eyes. “That is quite a craving you’re bearing. It’s like looking at my own reflection—though with a bit less blue on the lips.”
“I have it under control,” Os says, backing away and blinking. “We have it under control.”
“That’s the lie we tell ourselves,” Aston says. He studies the nearest guardian and shakes his head. “You’ve all been training hard, I see.”
“We have,” Os agrees. “We’re trying to protect our people.”
“And who will protect them from you,” Aston asks, “when the need offers you anything you desire, so long as you surrender to the craving? What happens when you’re so empty and ruined that you’ll do anything for the rush of pain to pull you back together?”
“If that’s the price we have to pay to finish this, so be it!” Os snaps back. “Even you know we don’t stand a chance on our own—and they know it too, otherwise they wouldn’t have sent that.”
He points to the emergency signal in the center of the field—a thin, white funnel of speeding winds stretching to the highest point of the sky.
“I’d even wager that’s why they involved you in the first place,” Os adds, glaring at me. “Someone to do their dirty work.”
Aston shrugs. “That doesn’t mean it was wise to corrupt the entire force with a power you don’t understand. And every time you use it, you’re dragged further under.”
“Maybe not,” Solana mumbles, then shrinks slightly when all eyes focus on her. “I think . . . I found a safer way to channel the power.”
“Have you now?” Os asks. “Does that mean you’ve used the commands I taught you?”
“She did,” I answer for her. “And it really messed her up.”
“I’m fine,” Solana starts, then stops herself. “It’s been hard. And part of me wishes I’d never used it. But it’s a little better now that I figured out the trick. If I focus on the needs of others, instead of what I’m craving, the power doesn’t take over the same way. The hard part is letting go of the selfish thoughts and making sure I truly mean the sacrifice.”
“But you still have to ruin the wind, don’t you?” Arella asks.
“Not if I use winds that are already broken,” Solana tells her. “Raiden has shattered thousands of drafts—and I’m sure he’ll destroy hundreds more today. We can use those to fight against him. Give them back their meaning. Otherwise what will their fate be? To drift aimlessly with no value or purpose ever again? They may be damaged—but they’re not useless. So long as we make sure we’re working in harmony with their needs, I don’t see why it would be cruel to let them help us, whatever way they can.”
I hadn’t thought of it like that before.
I kept thinking of it like shielding ourselves behind dead bodies. Taking advantage of the violence of others in order to survive.
But the winds aren’t dead.
If she’s found a way to give them purpose—why not?
I feel even better when I see Audra nodding, like she agrees with Solana’s reasoning.
“So is this your plan, then?” Os asks me. “Put us on the front lines of your battle while tying our hands and limiting our power?”