Free Let the Storm Break by Shannon Messenger Page A

about it and the only thing I could think of was to say that I’d meant a third Stormer who’d been part of the attack.
“We never found any trace of a third Stormer,” Os says, looking at me the same way they all look at me when they point that out.
“Well, you wouldn’t have,” Arella jumps in, tossing her greasy hair. “I was the only one who could detect him.”
“You?” Os repeats.
She flashes her most dazzling smile and for a second she looks more like the old Arella I remember. “You know I have a gift. ”
Os nods, actually believing her.
“Can we go now?” I ask, needing to get of this place before I go crazy and start trusting Arella.
She did just help me, though.
Big-time .
We make the long walk back to the surface, and it’s twice as miserable the second time—and not just because I’m more exhausted than ever.
Everything I’ve just seen and learned feels like it’s dragging me down, and I can still hear Arella’s words in my mind, echoing with every step:
Os crossed a line that shouldn’t be crossed.
Is she right?
This place is beyond horrible. But . . . I can also remember how pained Os looked as he described the hungry winds to me.
And the scar carved into his face is a mark Raiden gave him to punish him for choosing the good side.
Plus, it’s not like he locked an innocent person in his Maelstrom. He locked Arella —and I have to believe she deserves to be there, no matter how different she might seem.
Still, it feels especially eerie when we reach the open air and I notice all the giant black birds lining the rocks all around us. I remember seeing them on my way in, and I remember Audra telling me that birds are drawn to her mother—one of the few things the two of them have in common.
But I can see now that these are vultures.
I don’t want to think about what they’re waiting around for.
We race even harder on the way home—like both of us can’t get away from the Maelstrom fast enough—and I draw what energy I can from the wind. But I wish I could feel Audra’s trace.
The pull of our bond is so weak it’s almost like it’s not there, and that’s not what I needed after all my crazy doubts.
“I have something special planned for you today,” Os tells me as the Coachella Valley comes into view—stretches of green and color that seem totally out of place surrounded by so much barren desert. “A new trainer.”
“Really? I’m done with Fang?”
I can’t say I’m sad. The guy blasts the crap out of me every session.
But Os shakes his head. “Feng and Gus are still your guardians, and you will continue to train with Feng for the Northerlies. But it’s time you start practicing with Southerlies.”
He smiles as he says it, and it reminds me of my dad when he’s about to make me do something I’m definitely going to hate but that he thinks will be “good for me.”
But when I ask Os about it, he just steers toward the Gales’ base—an empty field of sand with a row of scraggly pine trees shielding it from the freeway. Giant holes in the dunes are the only things that set it apart from the billion other desert fields around here, and it still bums me out that the headquarters for my sylph army looks more like the home of mutant gophers. But the Gales try to stay underground as much as possible, away from Raiden’s searchwinds. And it’s not like they need a lot of fancy equipment. All they need is wind.
“What’s with the crowd?” I ask as I spot at least a dozen Gales gathered in the wash that cuts down the center of the field. It’s more guardians than I’ve ever seen aboveground at once.
“You’ll see.”
My suspicions grow when we land in the wash and I see the way all the Gales are grinning. Even Fang looks ready to crack a smile, and Gus gives me a cocky nod.
“Vane,” Os says before I can ask Gus what the hell is going on. “I’d like you to meet your Southerly trainer.”
They all move aside, revealing a seriously gorgeous girl with blond wavy