It’s over.
He’ll find me and feel the Westerly wrapped around me and that will be the end. I’ll fight until my dying breath but I’ll still be the next withered body dangling from the ceiling.
“This one, over here,” Raiden says, his voice agonizingly close. “That one’s still alive.”
“You’re right,” the Stormer says, moving closer as well.
The load on top of me gets lighter, like someone is grabbing bodies and tossing them to the side. I wait for the burly arms to reach out and snatch me—but they drag a different body away.
“I’ll string her back up,” one of the Stormers offers.
“No need to bother,” Raiden tells him. “We’re almost done with this place. Just set her on the ground and I’ll take care of it.”
I hear a thud as the Stormer obeys, and then I hear a couple more footsteps.
Then a sickening crunch.
I bite down on my cheek, hoping it will distract me enough to stop me from throwing up.
Somewhere in the panic and pain I hear Raiden say something about a gathering and a long-awaited prisoner. Then I hear their footsteps walk away.
I should count to five hundred to make sure they’re truly gone, but I barely last another minute in the dust and decay. I claw my way out of the pile, smothering my coughs with my fists as I crawl across the floor, hating how close I am to Raiden’s newest victim.
Her hands are stretched out like she was reaching for freedom. But her skull’s been crushed in the center. Stomped in by one of Raiden’s boots.
My chest tightens and my eyes burn, but I manage to fight back my sobs as I pull myself to my feet.
I want to run, attack, tear Raiden apart piece by piece for every horrible crime he’s committed.
But now is not the time.
Soon, I promise myself as I start the long climb back to the surface.
The path gets brighter as I walk, and when the sunlight starts to blind me, I press myself against the wall and check for guards. I see no sign of any Stormers, but I still slide slowly toward the exit, keeping to the shadows as I slip into the empty crevice.
The air is hot and still, but I gulp it down, grateful to be free of the tainted Maelstrom. The screeching wail has quieted, replaced by the low hum of a crowd, and when I creep to the edge of the crevice, I can see Raiden standing in the center of the basin. His back is to me, and he’s balanced on one of the tallest stones, facing a group of Stormers. A quick head count tells me there are at least fifty, and from the white bands on their arms, I’d guess they’re his top soldiers. Maybe even his leaders.
It’s strange to see them gathered so openly. Standing in the middle of a groundling valley, with no concern for anyone spotting them.
I can’t see Raiden’s face, but I can see the faces of his Stormers. Their eyes are wide with awe—and maybe a little fear.
My Westerly shield tugs at me, begging me to flee to safety. I offer the draft release instead. I’m not going to force it to suffer along with me. But it stays by my side, tangling tighter.
“I know you’re growing restless in the heat,” Raiden says, his sharp voice echoing off the valley walls. “The winds tell me there’s been a delay. Apparently, he tried putting up a fight. When will they ever learn?”
The crowd’s muffled laughter makes me want to throw something, but one glance at Raiden’s pant leg freezes me in place.
The white fabric is splattered with red.
“I can assure you, this will be well worth the wait,” Raiden promises. “And in the meantime, let me ease your discomfort.”
He hisses a strange curl of words, part growl, part wheeze, and a fleet of grayish Northerlies fills the air, making the temperature drop at least twenty degrees. I duck back into the Maelstrom to avoid the winds as they dip and dive and race around the basin. If they touch me they’ll give away my location.
“Is that better?” Raiden shouts as the winds vanish as quickly as they appeared.
The Stormers murmur their agreement, and I slip back outside as Raiden tells them, “All our hard work—all our years of patience and perseverance—have led us to this day. Some of you may have doubted that it would ever happen. I myself at times wondered the same. But this is the turning point I’ve been working for—searching for. We’ve tried and failed before—but today we finally have what we need. In just a few short minutes, you’ll see. I now have the key that will give me the power not only to snuff out the last of this pitiful rebellion but to control the entire world !”
There’s scattered applause as the Stormers process this information, and I wonder if some of them are as terrified as I am. But when Raiden stamps his bloody foot and shouts, “Who’s with me?” they all raise their right arms straight in front of them and then sweep them back toward their foreheads in a waving gesture.
“Tell me this,” Raiden calls. “Who’s tired of living in the shadows of the groundlings—weak, pitiful creatures who cannot even stand in a storm? Who’s tired of letting them hold the prime lands while we hide out of sight?”
More murmurs of agreement before everyone repeats their strange salute.
“The winds have turned wild against the groundlings, storming their lands and tearing apart everything they own. The sky has chosen to get rid of them—but it needs our help. They’ve been too resilient, relying on their technologies and their evacuations and their sheer power in numbers. But not for much longer. This is the day we join the winds’ fight to reclaim the earth, and we won’t stop until every last one of these useless creatures has been returned to the ground where they belong! Are you with me?”
This time the crowd erupts immediately and the sound makes me shiver under the scorching desert sun. But something else in Raiden’s speech was far more chilling—something I want to pretend I didn’t hear because then I won’t have to decide if it’s true.
The way Raiden keeps talking about having “the key” and “the power” he’s been “searching for.”
It almost sounds like he . . .
But he can’t.
I don’t believe it.
I press my hand against my chest, trying to feel the burning pull of my bond—but my heart is pounding too fast.
I can’t tell.
I can’t think.
“Any minute now my long-awaited prisoner will arrive, and then I will show you how we will win this war,” Raiden shouts. “Today we will change the future!”
He throws up his hands and the crowd goes wild. Cheering and clapping and chanting, “Bring out the prisoner. Bring out the prisoner!” Feeding off one another’s energy.
Each repetition crushes me more.
There’s only one prisoner who could grant Raiden that kind of power.
The key he’s been searching for.
The one he’s tried and failed to catch before.
Raiden must’ve finally captured Vane.
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—”