“All my instincts tell me that if we try to invade Brezengarde, we’ll never get out.”
I agree—though I’m not loving how casually she slipped the word “we” in there.
Then again, maybe she’s the “ally”?
Except I already know her “worth.”
“There has to be a way to lure him away from his fortress,” she says. “Something he can’t resist.”
“Like the language he’s been trying to steal for the last couple of decades?” I ask. “Or a chance to recapture the prisoners who embarrassed the crap out of him by escaping? We offered him both, and instead of showing up, he sent his whole freaking army—and then he offed them. It’s like the guy has finally snapped. And, uh, if he was scary when he was just an evil dude trying to take over the world, imagine what he’s going to be like now that he’s gone nuts? He’s probably turning Brezengarde into a maze of deathtraps, and he’ll just stay in there, blasting stuff with his Shredder before taking long bubble baths.”
“Bubble baths?” Audra asks.
“You should’ve seen his bathroom.”
Audra sits up. “That’s right! Do you still have the whistlepipe you stole from his bedroom?”
I only make it through half a nod before she’s on her feet, mumbling about finding her mother as she runs through the battlefield.
The Gales have the bodies mostly cleaned up, and now they seem to be preparing the wounded for transport.
“Where do you think they’re going to take them?” I ask Audra.
“There’s a base not that far from here. They set it up after your parents were killed, so they could keep an eye on you during your adoption process.”
Well, that’s . . . weird—but I guess all that matters is that they have supplies to treat the injured.
If everyone pulls through, we might have about twenty-five guardians left—still a ton of losses, but not as brutal of a ratio as the last battle. And hey, it’s more than Raiden has, which still feels so wrong. I wish I could figure out why he killed everyone.
We finally find Arella at the highest point in the field, perched in the center of the hill with her arms stretched toward the sky.
“What are you doing?” Audra asks her.
Arella jumps, and then rubs her injured shoulder. “I’m trying to find your father’s songs. I haven’t seen his Easterly since the day I left the Maelstrom, and I’m starting to fear Raiden has taken control of it.”
The words stop Audra cold.
“If he has, we’ll get the wind back,” I promise her. “I’m ending Raiden as soon as I can get close to him.”
She nods, blinking hard before taking a deep breath and focusing on her mother. “I think I know how to convince Raiden to leave Brezengarde,” she tells Arella. “But I’m going to need you to send him a message.”
Arella smiles. “I thought you didn’t trust me.”
“I don’t.” Audra’s jaw is so tight, it looks ready to snap. “But I need you to send a bird marked with the code you and Raiden used to use.”
“Why would you want to waste time with that?” Os asks, coming up behind us. “Sending the wind is much faster.”
“Yes, but sending the wind won’t shake him up,” Audra tells him. “I saw how tense he was around my mother’s ravens.”
“He still has them?” Arella whispers.
Audra dips her head. “He only has one now. He snapped the male’s neck after I wouldn’t give him what he wanted.”
Tears drip down Arella’s cheeks, and she murmurs something none of us catch. Then she slips her fingers between her lips and makes a high-pitched whistle.
I’m expecting her ugly crow to sweep in, but a huge brownish-gold eagle soars above us instead. It circles three times and dives to Arella’s wrist. Its talons look painful as they dig into her skin.
“What message am I marking?” she asks, pulling out the eagle’s wing.
“Tell Raiden we have his sister’s whistlepipe,” Audra says. “And that if he doesn’t meet us here by sunrise we’ll destroy it.”
It’s a solid plan—though it’s hard to believe Raiden would care more about a flute than the power of four.
“Tell him to come alone,” Audra adds. “And unarmed. And give him this as proof.”
She asks me for the whistlepipe and snaps off one of the feathery things dangling with it.
“I’m assuming these were his sister’s hair clips,” she says as Arella makes the eagle clasp the feathered piece with its talons. “But even if I’m wrong, he’ll recognize it from the chimes.”
“Do you really think he’ll come?” Os asks. “Raiden doesn’t respond to demands.”
“He will if we make it irresistible.” Audra glances at me as she adds, “Tell him he’ll be meeting only with Vane and myself. The last Westerly, and the Easterly who escaped him—and before anyone argues, remember, he has to believe he can defeat us.”