“Here goes nothing,” I tell her, ordering the winds to set us down in front of Raiden.
He chose his spot well—a ridge so narrow we can only keep a couple of feet between him and us. A guarantee that we’ll be within range of his backlash.
“So this is how it ends,” Raiden says. “The last stand of the last Westerly. Any final words?”
I’m about to tell him no when I notice my winds have added a new lyric.
They’re still singing about a shield being more dangerous than a sword, but there’s a new line that comes right before it.
Trust your enemy.
“You have two choices,” Raiden tells us. “Teach me a word of Westerly and I’ll kill you both quickly. Refuse, and you’ll get to watch your little friend experience a multitude of indescribable agonies.”
He grabs Solana by her hair, wrenching her neck as he drags her closer.
Trust your enemy, my Westerlies sing. Trust your enemy. Trust your enemy.
TRUST YOUR ENEMY.
“You want to know a word of Westerly?” I ask Raiden, hoping I’m guessing the wind’s meaning. “Fine. I’ll teach you a word. Just don’t hurt her.”
Solana’s eyes get almost as huge as Raiden’s.
“Just like that?” he asks. “After all of this”—he sweeps his arms toward the battle-scarred field—“you’re ready to betray your heritage before I place a single blow?”
“I saw what you did to Gus,” I mumble. “Solana doesn’t deserve that.”
Maybe I’m a better actor than I think. Or maybe Raiden’s just power hungry and doesn’t stop to ask the questions he should probably ask.
He doesn’t even argue when I demand he let Solana go. He releases his hold, and I pull her close enough to whisper, “Watch for my signal.”
“I’ll teach you their strongest command,” I tell him. “The one that’s saved me the most. If that doesn’t trigger your breakthrough, nothing will.”
Raiden’s in full power-junkie mode, his mouth practically salivating as I ask the Westerlies to whisk around him.
A shield is more dangerous than a sword.
“I’m going to teach you how to form a shield,” I say. “It only takes one word.”
Solana and I share a look, and I hope she’s ready, because she’s going to have to time it perfectly.
“Listen to the way I say it first,” I say, glad my instincts aren’t making me hurl yet. They’ve done that every other time I’ve tried to teach anyone, so this really must be what the winds want.
I whisper the word, highlighting each of the sighing, swishy sounds.
“Repeat it one more time,” Raiden tells me.
I notice Solana tightening her grip on her boomerang, and nod.
This is it.
Please let this be the end of him.
“Ready to try it?” I ask.
Raiden’s too focused on the pronunciation to notice Solana whispering her own command and turning her boomerang from yellow to red.
He nails each syllable of the Westerly command perfectly, and right as the final sound rolls off his tongue, Solana flings the weapon, nailing him dead in the chest.
We both drop to the ground as the force of the backlash ricochets, and I suck in a breath, wishing my last taste of air wasn’t so dusty.
I will always love you, Audra.
I repeat the words, hoping they brand themselves to my echo.
Let her find it. Let her know how sorry I am to leave her alone.
But as the explosion rings in my ears, I don’t feel any pain. And after another second I have to brave a look.
I don’t know how to describe the sound I make—it’s a mix of a thousand different emotions.
Solana makes a similar noise as she sits up beside me.
In the split second after her boomerang passed through Raiden’s backlash, the Westerly shield draped around his body, sealing in the explosion and leaving him to bear the full force of the blow—which triggers the backlash again. And again. And again.
Justice, the Westerlies tell me, the word easing my nausea at the gore.
Raiden’s the one who sealed his doom, forcing himself to face the pain of his own evil power.
It’s a slow death.
A painful one.
And then, he’s gone.
I leave him in his shell a few minutes longer, just to be certain the explosions are over.
And when I finally release the Westerly shield, his body crumbles to dust.
Rejected by the sky. Left to rot on the earth.
CHAPTER 52
AUDRA
It’s done.
I can feel it in the air.
A newfound peace I don’t know how to describe.
The winds aren’t calm—but I’ve never felt such joyous ease.
The air feels lighter, softer. Like Raiden’s existence had been a physical burden, dragging down the sky and burying it in gloom.
And Vane . . .
Our bond feels stronger than ever. Almost electric with the rush of his urgent journey.
He’s coming home.
He’s safe.
And he’s mine.
The Gales are frenzied with preparations—already a unanimous vote has passed, approving Vane’s plan for a ruling power of four.
Coronations and celebrations are being planned, even as the surviving guardians head to Brezengarde to wipe out any remaining Stormers.
There are stories that need to be told, life-changing decisions that must be made.
But I’ve asked them all to wait.
I want one day.
One day with Vane, when we’re not Easterlies or Westerlies or guardians or groundlings or kings and queens.
One day when I can give him a small sliver of the normal I know he craves.
His parents returned not long ago, thanks to a lucky fluke of timing. I’d been resting in his room when I was woken by the twittering sound of his phone ringing. It took me several tries to figure out how to answer—and I’m sure the conversation on my end was lacking—but I managed to convince them it was safe to come home.
They rushed here straightaway.
I’d expected our reunion to feel stilted.
Complicated.
Two worlds struggling to find a common place.
I’d had speeches prepared—most of them apologies.
But they weren’t needed.
The second they walked through the door, they wrapped me in their arms and thanked me. There were questions of course. But mostly laughter and tears.
They keep telling me I’m part of the family—which I guess I am.
Sort of.
Bonding is a complicated thing.
There’s still one more step to seal our commitment—but we’ll get to that when we’re ready.
In the meantime his mom flutters around me, trying to stay busy.
They’d stocked up on bandages and other supplies preparing for this moment, and she insists on helping me dress my wounds.
I can see the fury in her eyes when she finds the marks Raiden left. And she cries all over again when I tell her about Gus.
“Vane should be fine,” I add, because I know she must be worrying. “When I left him, he only had minor injuries. And if he’d suffered anything more serious, I think I’d be able to tell.”
Still, I know she’ll feel better when she can see him herself.
As will I.
Soon.
I can feel he’s closer, but still not quite close enough.
I ask if I can borrow one of Vane’s shirts, since my other clothes were ruined, and his mom blushes and tells me she bought me a dress.
“I don’t know if this is a weird gift—and it’s not as fancy as the other one I saw you wearing—but as soon as I saw it, I thought of you.”
The pale blue fabric is the softest, smoothest thing I’ve ever felt. And it’s printed with tiny soaring birds.
“It’s perfect.”
She leaves me to
change, and I stare at myself for far longer than I probably should, trying to recognize the girl staring back at me.
She carries more scars than my other self.
And yet, she carries fewer shadows.
She looks . . . happy.
His mother’s eyes get misty when I emerge from the bathroom, and even his father looks moved.
“You’re welcome to wait for him in his room,” he tells me, earning himself an elbow from Vane’s mother and starting a hushed debate about sleeping arrangements.
Yet another complicated thing we’ll have to figure out.
But right now, I have other plans.
“Actually, I was wondering if you could do me one more favor,” I tell his mom.
Of course she immediately agrees.
She smiles even wider when I tell her what I’m thinking.
“Leave it to me.”
CHAPTER 53
VANE
The sun is just starting to rise as I crest the San Gorgonio Mountains and fly the familiar path through the pass.
The windmills of the wind farm spin slow and steady, their signal lights winking at me as I follow the line of the freeway into my valley.
I’d been dreading seeing all the damage again, but honestly?
Things don’t look nearly as bad as I remember. Either the cleanup crews have been busy, or I’ve seen too much other destruction.
I hope it’s the first option.
It took me longer to get home than I planned, but I had to make sure Solana had somewhere to go. I’d offered to let her stay with me, but she chose to go back to Aston’s cave. She wanted to be around someone else who understood the power of pain. I’m hoping that doesn’t mean the battle took a big toll.
Her eyes weren’t glinting with any sort of craving, but I’m not sure if that’s because we’re both too exhausted.
Coming home felt like the longest journey ever.
We could’ve blasted here with pipelines—trusted our lives to the wind one final time. But we both chose the safe path, to fly and clear our heads.
I’m doing okay with all the violence.
Definitely no remorse over killing Raiden.
It’s just a lot to process.
We kinda changed our entire world—in a good way, of course.
But still.
Change.
And responsibility.
And all kinds of other things I’m so not ready for.
All I really want to do is collapse on the couch and binge watch TV—unless Audra’s around, then . . . all the making out!
The thought gives me a final burst of energy, and within minutes I’m back at my parents’ house.
I didn’t expect them to be home yet, but there’s their car, parked in the driveway. I’m equal parts excited and exhausted.
I’m wondering if it’d make me a jerk if I snuck in through my bedroom window and did the whole big dramatic reunion thing once I’d gotten a little sleep.
But then I think about everything I’ve put them through these last few weeks—all the times I made them run for cover, and the mysterious injuries I showed up with, not to mention the whole Guess what? You’re son isn’t human! weirdness.
They deserve to know I’m okay.
My parents seem strangely unsurprised when I walk through the door—though of course there’s still plenty of hugging and crying. They ask questions I don’t know how to answer yet. So I tell them the only thing that really matters.
“It’s over.”
They hug me a whole lot tighter and promise they’re here for whatever I need.
“So wait—how did you guys know to come back?” I ask.
My mom smiles. “Audra answered your phone.”
“So you’ve seen her?” I ask. “She’s okay?”
“She’s more than okay,” my dad says.
“She has a surprise planned for you,” my mom adds. “But, uh . . . I think you might want to shower first.”
“Yeah,” my dad chimes in. “You smell like crap—literally.”
He smiles at his corny joke, and I think about all the facefuls of manure I got during the battle and head toward the bathroom. “Good call.”
It takes me longer than I meant to shower, but it’s not easy with my injured elbow and all the other wounds I have to clean and bandage.
Plus I keep trying to guess what Audra’s surprise is, and it’s very . . . distracting.
My favorite Batman shirt feels tight across the shoulders. All this fighting really has made me stronger. Even without food—
Food.
God, I had no idea I was so starving.
I’m hoping my mom’s making me about ten of her famous torpedo burritos, but when I head out of the bathroom, she’s sitting with my dad on the couch, both of them giving me those horrifying our baby looks so grown up smiles.
“So . . . where’s Audra?”
“She’s waiting for you on the roof,” my mom says.
The roof ?
That kills almost all of my favorite theories.
It’s already starting to get warm, and the air is turning still. But I find a Westerly and coil it around me.
As I do, I notice the compass on my bracelet has stopped spinning.
In fact, it seems like it’s pointing straight to the rooftop.
The wind floats me off the ground, carrying me to where Audra’s waiting, perched on the red tiles, her face turned away from me, focused on the sky.
She’s wearing a dress.
Not a skimpy dress like I’ve enjoyed before.
But I like this one even better.
She looks so . . . normal.
So real.
And when she turns my way and smiles . . . wow.
I mean, seriously.
I don’t know what I did to deserve this beautiful, incredible girl. But I’m never letting her get away.
I try to think of something deep and poetic to say. But the best I can come up with is: “I’m so glad you’re safe.”
“I’m glad you’re safe too,” she tells me. “I was starting to think you were never going to get here.”
“I know. Sorry, I—”
She holds up her hand. “You don’t have to explain. In fact, I think we should make a deal not to talk about anything stressful—unless you need to. I told the Gales we’re taking today to relax.”
I laugh. “Are you sure you know how to do that?”
She pats the roof tile next to her, offering me a seat. “I figured you could teach me.”
I make my way over to her side—and by the way: Walking on roofs is way harder than it looks. I nearly trip twice—but I get there.
When I do, I notice a red-and-white bag peeking out of a thermal lunch case, resting near her hip.
“Okay, am I hallucinating, or do you have In-N-Out?”
“Not hallucinating,” she says, opening the bag and filling the air with the smell of cheeseburgers and French fries.
My stomach growls so loud, we both have to laugh.
“I had your mom get it for me. I remembered what you said about how we haven’t really had many dates. So I thought I’d give it a try. I know we’re just up on a roof—and the food is mostly cold because I didn’t realize you’d be back so late—”
“It’s perfect,” I tell her.
And it is.
I sit next to her and she hands me my cheeseburger and it’s seriously the best moment ever. I get a little choked up by it, actually.
I watch her dive into her own burger without any hesitation or worries about sacrifice—see that look of oh my God this is amazing cross her face—and I have to kiss her.
I lean in and—
Gavin lets out a huge screech.
I nearly flail right off the roof, and fling a few French fries at him. “Dude—do that again and we’re having roast hawk for dinner!”
He screeches and hops over to the fries, gobbling them up as he watches me. I guess I should be glad he’s still alive—and th
at he has good taste in snacks—but it’s easier to like him when his beady eyes aren’t glaring.
Audra whistles something, and he flaps his wings and takes off toward the date grove.
“I told him to leave us alone,” she tells me.
“Alone is good,” I whisper, reaching up to wipe a spot of ketchup off her face.
I’m trying to decide if I should kiss her, or let her finish her burger. She makes the decision for me, grabbing my face and pulling me to her.
As soon as our lips meet, it’s like breathing clear air. Or when the sun finally breaks through on a cold, stormy day.
The leftover darkness haunting me from the battle fades with each press of her lips, and I kiss her back, hoping I can erase anything her mother did.
When we finally pull away, the sun’s much higher in the sky, and the sweltering heat is starting to settle in.
“Do you want to go inside?” she asks, waving a fly out of her eyes.
“Maybe in a minute. Right now, I just want to enjoy this.”
She scoots closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder, and we both stare at the bright puffy clouds and listen to the wind.
It sings about new beginnings, and that’s exactly what this is.
The first day of our every day.
With nothing but clear skies ahead.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Every book takes its own unique journey from inspiration to publication, and this one was my greatest adventure by far. So I want to start by thanking my readers for their love and support—and especially their patience—as I fumbled through all the craziness to bring this story into the world.
An infinite amount of thanks goes to my fabulous agent, Laura Rennert, for her ability to play the roles of adviser, champion, and shoulder to panic on. The amazing people at Andrea Brown Literary also deserve an abundance of thank-yous, as does Taryn Fagerness and all my wonderful foreign publishers.
To my editor, Liesa Abrams Mignogna, thank you for believing in Vane and Audra and giving me the chance to write the ending their story deserved. My deepest gratitude also goes to Mara Anastas, Mary Marotta, Katherine Devendorf, Sarah McCabe, Carolyn Swerdloff, Jennifer Romanello, Faye Bi, Lucille Rettino, Jodie Hockensmith, Michelle Leo, Anthony Parisi, Betsy Bloom, Matt Pantoliano, Amy Bartram, Mike Rosamilia, Tom Daly, Sara Berko, Julie Doebler, and the entire sales team at Simon & Schuster for the time, care, and creativity they each pour into my books. And thank you, Regina Flath, for giving me three covers I absolutely adore, and Shane Rebenschied for creating the most gorgeous artwork ever.