“What if the people over there saw the battle?” I ask.
“They probably went underground to a storm shelter,” Audra says. “And if they didn’t, I’m sure they’ll come up with some sort of rational explanation. Groundlings are good at making excuses for the impossible. Even you did it when you thought you were one of them.”
“Not always,” I tell her. “I never let myself make excuses for believing in you.”
Her eyes turn soft at that, and half a smile curls her lips.
I scoot a little closer, deciding to press my luck. Our legs touch, and the rush of heat gives me a burst of courage. “I knew it was crazy to believe that the girl I dreamed about every night was really out there somewhere. I just wanted you to be real so bad that I didn’t care.”
That earns me the rest of the smile, and I reach for her hand, surprised to feel the soft rush of her Westerly shield draped around her skin.
“The draft didn’t want to leave,” she says as I brush the breeze with my thumb. “Is it weird that I hope it never does?”
“Hey, you and that wind have been through a lot. Maybe more than you and I have.”
“Not quite.” She traces my palm with her fingertips—such a simple gesture, but seriously: sparks and shivers. “You told me once that I was the one constant thing in your life,” she whispers. “But you’ve been the constant in mine, too. I know you probably don’t remember—and I’m so sorry about that—”
“It’s okay,” I tell her.
And actually, it is.
I still need to sort out my past—and I will.
But right now I care way more about our future.
I reach for her other hand, and her heat rockets up my arm so fast it settles into my heart.
Does she have any idea what she does to me?
Our eyes meet and my breath catches.
Maybe she does.
“So,” she says, licking her lips and leaning a little closer. Close enough that my brain screams, THIS IS IT!!!
I decide I’m not stopping it.
I don’t care that we’re only a few feet away from death and destruction.
Maybe battlefield kissing will be our “thing.”
I’m trying to remember the last time I brushed my teeth—and hoping I’m not blasting her with BO—when she takes a deep breath and asks, “What are we going to do about Raiden?”
That’s what she was thinking about?
Why doesn’t the universe just punch me in the nuts???
Especially since . . . I’d kinda forgotten about him.
His army’s gone—mostly. Doesn’t that mean it’s over?
I wish it could be that simple. But Audra’s right.
Raiden’s still out there, and as long as he is, he can start this mess all over again.
But what the hell are we supposed to do now? He’s locked away in his fortress, still protected by his backlash.
I lean back on the grass and stare up at the darkening sky, feeling like an insignificant ant.
It’d be awesome if we could just beg Audra’s shield to get its windy friends back together and blast over to Brezengarde to finish the job. But . . . I don’t think the wind works that way.
If it did, wouldn’t it have crushed Raiden a long time ago?
I think . . .
The wind definitely has a personality—but it’s also still a force.
If we really need it, maybe it’ll pull through for us.
Otherwise we’re on our own.
This feels like one of those times when it’s up to us to figure it out—and I know I can do it.
I can kill Raiden.
I owe it to Gus, and my parents, and all the Westerlies who died protecting my language.
This is my fight.
It’s time for me to end it.
It’s just the how part that’s especially tricky.
We’re down to him and me now, so . . . am I supposed to, like, smack him with a white glove and challenge him to a duel?
Better question: How do I beat him?
“Please,” I whisper, my words automatically switching to Westerly. “Help me figure out how to end this.”
Audra lies back beside me and together we listen to the melodies drifting through the air. At first it all sounds the same—just songs about the turbulent day fading into a calmer night. But slowly the lyrics shift, and one in particular catches my attention: Born of the sky
Resting on the earth
So much lost. Even more to gain
Seek your ally
Discover their worth
Triumph through peace and pain
Audra told me one time that sylphs are caught between two worlds, since we have ties to both the wind and the ground. So I’m guessing that first part is basically the wind agreeing that yep, this fight’s up to me.
But who is my “ally”?
And more importantly—why does the process have to involve pain?
Can’t I triumph through peace and something else? How about fluffy bunnies?
Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, “attack of the bunnies” sounds super terrifying. I’m imagining a pack of red-eyed, fanged, killer rabbits when Audra mumbles something.
“What did you say?” I ask, shaking my head to de-bunny my brain.