Let the Storm Break

CHAPTER 21 VANE

This can’t be happening.

I know the Gales have been preparing me for this moment—but as Gus drags Solana and me across the grove, I can’t remember a single thing Fang taught me. I can barely remember my own name.

All I can do is stare at the splotch of blood on Gus’s hand, trying not to think about where it came from or who it came from or how much more of it I’m going to see today.

“Stop!” my mom screams as she chases after us. “Where are you taking him? What’s going on?”

“We don’t have time for this right now,” Gus tells her.

“You have time to explain where you’re taking my son,” my mom insists, grabbing my arm and starting a Vane-tug-of-war.

“Okay, ow!” I jerk away from both of them, wrenching my wrist in the process. “Come on, Gus. You can’t drop the ‘we’re under attack’ bomb and not tell us what’s going on or what we’re supposed to do or where my family’s supposed to go or—”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Gus admits, staring at the cloudless sky—which seems way too clear and blue for an attack. “Feng sent me a piece of cactus covered in his blood. All the message said was ‘ambush.’ ”

His voice cracks and he looks away.

My mom reaches for my hand, squeezing so hard it cuts off my circulation.

“Has there been an echo?” Solana whispers.

Gus shakes his head.

She places her hand on his shoulder. “Then there’s still hope. And we both know there’s no better fighter.”

Gus stares at her hand, a few tears running down his cheeks as he nods.

I never realized he and Fang were so close.

Feng, I correct.

“Anyway, that’s all I know,” Gus adds after a second. “Os took a fleet of Gales up to Joshua Tree, where Feng had been patrolling. The rest of our force is divided between the Borderland Base and the Clear River Base, which also sent us alerts this morning. So Os told me to get you both underground in case Raiden’s next move is here.”

“That’s your big plan—hide him underground?” my mom asks, pulling me back to her side. “Let me take him. I’ll drive him anywhere you want. The car has a full tank of gas and—”

“It doesn’t work that way, Mom.” I cover her hand with mine, hating that I can feel her shaking. “I know you want to help, but if they’re really coming for me, I won’t be able to outrun them. Especially not in our beat-up old Honda.”

I can tell she wants to argue, but all she asks is “Where will you go?”

“Os said you knew a place,” Gus tells me. “Somewhere near the desert’s center?”

My skin itches just thinking about going back to the Maelstrom—and the last thing I want is to spend a few more hours with Arella. “But what about my parents? Someone needs to stay with them.”

“I told you—everyone is gone.”

Solana sucks in a breath and my stomach gets all churney. Suddenly, hiding in the Maelstrom seems like a pretty good idea. Except I have no idea if it’s safe to expose my parents to those creepy winds—and I’m definitely not exposing them to Arella. . . .

“I’m not leaving my family unprotected, Gus. If there’s no one else, then I’ll stay with them.”

“That’ll only put them in more danger, Vane. You’re the one Raiden wants.”

“But at least I can defend them.”

Gus snorts. “You really think you can take on the Stormers by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine,” my mom interrupts—though her voice sounds anything but. “Go with Gus. Don’t worry about me. I’ll just . . . I’ll grab your dad from work and we’ll head out of town again.”

“There may not be time to get far enough away,” I tell her.

“Well, then I’ll . . .” She doesn’t finish the sentence, because there’s nothing she can do. This one’s on me.

“I have to go with them,” I tell Gus, straightening up so he knows I mean it.

He sweeps back his loose hair, smearing a thin stripe of blood across his forehead. “I have my orders, Vane.”

“Yeah, well, this is my family, Gusty.”

His eyes flash when I full-name him. Guess he thinks it sounds as stupid as I do.

“And let’s not forget that I’m the only one who knows where you’re supposed to take me,” I remind him. “So . . . you’re kinda screwed.”

“How about this?” Solana asks, stepping between us as Gus lunges for me. “I’ll go with Vane’s parents to keep an eye on them, and you can take Vane underground.”

“You don’t have to do that,” my mom tells her, but it’s actually a pretty good idea.

Gus doesn’t seem to agree, though. “You’re not a Gale—”

“I know how to fight,” Solana insists.

She does have muscles to go with her curves. I could see her beating the crap out of a few people. Though it’s hard to imagine her doing it in that dress. Well . . . without something popping out.

Gus still doesn’t look convinced, though. Not until Solana adds, “I’ve been without a guardian for two years now. And the only reason I survived that attack—”

Gus holds up his hand and she falls silent.

I can’t tell if he looks like he wants to strangle something or curl up in a ball and cry. All he says is “My orders were to take both of you underground.”

“Screw your orders.”

“I think what Vane means,” Solana says, jumping in, “is that sometimes it’s better to protect the most people we can. Let me do this. And keep in mind that this is probably the only way you’re going to get Vane to cooperate.”

I can’t help grinning, and when I meet Solana’s eyes, I kind of want to hug her. But that would be ten thousand kinds of awkward so I just mouth thank you and leave it at that.

Gus throws up his hands. “Fine! If you want to go with them, go with them. But don’t come back until you hear the all clear, and keep an ear to the winds.”

“I will,” Solana promises.

“And call Dad and tell him to come home from work now,” I tell my mom.

She nods and smothers me with a hug. “And you be careful. Do you have your phone? Can you text me when you get there safe?”

“I’m pretty sure I won’t get cell service where I’m going,” I tell her, hugging her tighter.

I don’t even carry my phone with me anymore. I don’t have anyone who calls me. I’ve cut off my friends, and the Gales aren’t exactly big on technology.

“Are we done wasting time?” Gus asks.

I let my mom go. “For now.”

“Good. Then tell me where we’re going.”

“Why? Aren’t you the expert at following me?”

I coil a few Easterlies around me and launch into the sky before he can respond.

Gus catches up a few seconds later and we head east. But every few miles I notice Gus glancing north.

I don’t see any sign of the storm. The sky is clear and the clouds are feathery and the winds feel steady and normal. If Gus didn’t have Feng’s blood on his hand, I never would’ve thought there was any danger.

“So . . . how do you know Feng?” I ask, remembering Gus’s earlier tears.

He’s quiet for so long I wonder if he heard me. Then he says, “He’s my father.”

Whoa—how did I not know that?

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, hating how lame it sounds. “I didn’t realize.”

“That’s because I look like my mother. She was the pretty one.”

He forces a grin, flashing perfect dimples. I want to smile back, but I can’t help noticing that he used the word “was.”

“And your mom, she’s . . .”

“She was Solana’s guardian.”

Oh.

Oh.

Well . . . that explains why he reacted so strongly to her mentioning that attack.

“So that’s what you meant about your families having a history?”

“Yeah. My mom sorta left us when she took the role as Solana’s guardian. Feng had begged her not to. He knew Solana’s last guardian had been killed and that it was only a matter of time before the Stormers tracked Solana down again. But that’s what my mom wanted. She was angry and she wanted to do something big.” He sighs. “I guess it doesn’t make much sense unless I give you the whole tragic history. You ready for it?”

I nod—stunned at how little I know about Gus. He seems like such an easygoing guy—but I guess I should’ve figured he had some darker crap. Why else would he be a guardian so young?

“My mom was ambushed by a Stormer when she was eight months pregnant with my sister. He left her alive, but the baby . . .” He clears his throat. “The worst part was, my mom wasn’t even a guardian. Feng was, and he’d just won a big fight against Raiden—one of the only victories the Gales have ever had. And, apparently, if you make Raiden look weak, he comes after you personally.”

He’s quiet for a minute and I struggle to figure out something to say. I mean, I thought what happened to my family was tough but . . .

“Anyway,” he says, “not surprisingly, my mom never got over it. All she wanted was revenge. She joined the Gales, signed up for every risky assignment she could. She actually volunteered to protect you, but the Gales went with Audra. So a few weeks later, when Solana needed a new guardian, my mom jumped all over it. By then I’d already enlisted in the Gales, so she left me there with Feng, promising us she’d be careful. But she only lasted two years before the Stormers caught up with them.” He glances to the north again. “Feng never got over it.”

Listening to him talk makes me realize why I never guessed the connection—besides how different they look. “Your dad doesn’t mind that you call him Feng?”

“Actually, it was his idea. After what happened to my mom, he wanted to make it as hard as possible for Raiden to know who his family is.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

I watch him glance north for the dozenth time and realize what he must be thinking. “You should be with the Gales right now.”

“I should be following my orders.”

“That’s dumb. You did your job. You told me where to go and I’m going there—I don’t need a babysitter for the rest. Go help your dad.”

Gus looks tempted, but he shakes his head. “The Gales had a reason for not bringing me with them.”

“Yeah, and your dad had a reason for sending his message to you.”

Gus stares at the dried blood on his thumb. Then he wipes it away on his pants. “He sent it to me so I could protect you.”

“Ugh—I’m so sick of that.”

I don’t want to be the useless weakling everyone has to protect.

I’m the last freaking Westerly.

I should be out there leading the charge.

Isn’t that what they’ve been training me for?

I’m still not sure how I’m going to handle the whole violence-makes-me-vomit thing, but if I’m ever supposed to take down Raiden, I’m going to have to start standing up and fighting.

“What are you doing?” Gus asks as I dive and touch down in the middle of the desert. “Is this where we’re going?”

I don’t answer, calling one Easterly, one Northerly, and one Southerly to my side and coiling them around each other to make a wind spike. It’s different from the way Audra taught me, but over the last few weeks I’ve learned they’re stronger this way. One of each wind.

I reach out my hands and call the Westerly I’m missing.

“So you can control the fourth wind,” Gus says, staring at the draft as it swirls around my waist.

“You thought I couldn’t?”

“I’d been starting to wonder.”

I roll my eyes and weave the Westerly around the wind spike, ordering the drafts to converge.

The gusts spin to a blur, twisting out of my grasp and hovering above my head as a crack splits down the center. Gus covers his head like he expects the spike to explode. But the dull outer shell simply rolls away, leaving a gleaming deep-blue spike with sharp points at each end and a glinting sheen.

“Whoa,” Gus breathes as he reaches slowly toward it. “Can I?”

I nod and he hesitates a second before he curls his fingers around it. “Crap it’s like . . . solid.”

I can’t help laughing. “That’s the power of four.”

“I guess.” He slices it through the air a few times before he turns to me. “You realize I’m never giving this back, right?”

“Oh, really?”

I whisper, “Come,” in Westerly and the spike launches out of his hand and floats straight into mine.

“You were saying?”

Gus blinks. “Okay, wow. That’s freaking awesome.”

“I’m glad you think so, because I’m going with you to the Gales. I’m tired of being fussed over and shuttled around like I’m some delicate little flower they have to shelter.”

“No one thinks you’re a flower, Vane. We’ve all smelled you after training.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not going to hide in the sand anymore either—and you can try and talk me out of it, but we both know that’s a waste of time. So let’s just skip that part and go get your dad.”

He still doesn’t look convinced, so I offer the one thing I know will win him over. “I’ll make you your own special wind spike. You won’t be able to command it, but I’ll keep track of it for you.”

I hurtle the spike into a cactus and the thorny plant explodes, showering us with slimy cactus goo.

“It didn’t unravel,” Gus mumbles, pointing at the wind spike lying in a puddle of greenish slime.

I call the spike back to me and hand it to him.

He stares at it for a few seconds before he slips it through the strap of his windslicer scabbard. I weave another spike for myself, wishing I’d worn a belt with my shorts. I guess this is why the Gales keep wanting me to wear a guardian uniform.

“Okay,” I say, ripping a hole in my pocket and slipping the spike through. “Armed and ready. Now let’s go find Feng.”

Gus nods and tangles himself in a group of nearby Easterlies. “This time you follow me.”

He leads me into the mountains, over a forest of spiky, gnarled Joshua trees.

I keep searching for a change in the winds or a storm in the distance. But everything stays bright and clear and normal.

Until Gus spots a smear of red on the ground.

He takes us down to an area I remember hiking in with my family. A garden of weird green, tubey plants that look kinda like what would happen if palm trees and cacti hooked up and had a bunch of bristly babies. I’m careful to avoid the white thorns that almost seem to reach for me as we make our way to the red-stained cactus.

“It’s his blood,” Gus says quietly as he reaches up and touches a broken stem. “This must be where he grabbed the piece he sent me.”

“But I don’t hear his echo in the air,” I remind him as he turns away to wipe his eyes. “So he’s still alive.”

Gus nods, sucking in a breath. “We should find the Gales. Os chased the Stormers southeast.”

I can hear the nearby drafts whispering the same thing—and the wind isn’t supposed to lie. And yet . . .

There’s one draft singing a completely different song.

I call the Westerly to my side, letting it fill the air with its warning about a hostage heading north into a valley of death. And when I listen to the other winds again I realize there’s no melody to their song. They whisper the words with no life or energy.

“I think the Stormers did something to the winds,” I say, double-checking the Westerly to make sure I’m not going crazy. “This Westerly says Feng was taken to Death Valley.”

Gus turns his palms northward, concentrating so hard that a deep line forms between his brows. “I can’t find his trace that way. Can you?”

I search the nearby air for the feel of Feng. The hint of cool energy around the bloody cactus has to be him, so I hold on to that sensation and reach further, concentrating on the Westerlies coming from the north until I find a draft carrying the same chilly rush.

I gasp when I realize it’s not the only trace the wind carries.

“What’s wrong?” Gus asks as I call the draft to me, but my head is spinning too fast to answer.

The tingly warmth gets stronger as the wind gets closer. And the sparks feel more like a punch to the gut when the Westerly wraps around me, singing about a girl who found more than she was looking for in the valley of death.

“He’s definitely that way,” I whisper to Gus.

And so is Audra.