Part 11 (1/2)

My bonds clamp even tighter, and I'm barely able to bite back my cry of pain. But I still don't believe him.

He's spared my life. Treated my wound.

There has to be a way to get through to him.

So I don't struggle, suffering in silence as he wanders around the cave, gathering the tiny green crabs skittering across the rocks. He bundles them up in his cloak and carries them toward the entrance, where he barks a sharp word and a small pile of dried seaweed erupts into flames.

He tosses a handful of crabs into the fire and they thrash and flail for a few seconds before lying down to die.

”I'm sorry for losing my temper,” he says, reaching straight into the fire to s.n.a.t.c.h out the seared bodies. ”Let's not let it spoil our lovely dinner, shall we?”

He hisses a command that relaxes the winds binding me.

I try to move to a more comfortable position, but all I really manage is to s.h.i.+ft my weight onto the rocks in my pocket, making them cut into my leg.

He approaches with a handful of roasted crabs, dangling one under my nose. ”They taste better than they look.”

Somehow I doubt that.The tiny, scorched body looks like one of the spiders I used to find hiding in my bed of palm leaves.

But even if they taste like the cheeseburger Vane bought me on that crazy, indulgent day, I'd find a way to resist. I can't have more ties to the earth. Not when any second Aston could call for my essence and crumble me to dust.

”I don't eat,” I tell him.

”Ah yes, the guardian's life of deprivation. How I do not miss those days.” He shoves the crab in his mouth, crunching on the spindly, blackened legs. ”Another advantage to Raiden's methods. No sacrifice required.”

”Unless you count destroying the wind and taking the lives of innocent people and losing your sanity.”

”Perhaps,” he agrees, crunching on another crab. He sits down across from me. ”But I wonder if you'd be able to hold to your principles when they cost you something you love. Not your own life-I've seen enough to know that you care nothing for that. But what about loverboy? If Raiden gave you a choice: Ruin the wind or the king dies, which would you choose?”

”There's always another option.”

”Believe me, Raiden is a master at controlling all the variables.” He points to the twenty-nine holes on his shoulder. ”Pick!”

”But it's not a logical comparison. Of course I'd save Vane-he's the last Westerly. Keeping him alive saves everyone.”

”Interesting.”

He hisses something that snuffs out the fire, leaving us in the dark. My eyes slowly adjust to the dim light and I can see him watching me as he finishes his dinner. But he says nothing else.

Eventually I give in and ask, ”Why is it interesting?”

”Many reasons. But mainly because you seem blindly ignorant to the fact that you know Westerly. So you're just as capable of saving everyone as he is.”

”I . . .”

I can't believe he's right.

And I want to argue that Vane is still more powerful because Westerly is his biological heritage. But . . . he's also known about his heritage for only a few weeks. Meanwhile I have a lifetime of knowledge-plus a decade of training in the other winds.

”I can tell I just blew your mind,”Aston says, laughing as he swallows the last crab whole. ”Though what I find even more intriguing is that here you are-one of the only two people in the entire world who's capable of harnessing the power of four. And you're tied to a rock, completely at my mercy.”

Shame makes my face burn.

”It's not your fault,” he adds quietly. ”No one could've beaten me. That's what I keep trying to tell you. The Gales can't win-even with the power of four. You're all forgetting that for six years Raiden believed Vane was dead and that the fourth language was lost. Do you think he just sat back on his laurels, pouting because he'd missed his chance? Or do you think he found a better way?”

He holds out his hand, letting the moonlight s.h.i.+ne through his skin.

The power of pain.

”But . . . then why does Raiden want Vane so badly?”

He searched for him tirelessly for four years-sent two of his best Stormers to come get him.

”Because he always wants more, Audra. And if breaking down the three winds makes him this powerful, why not break down the fourth and have ultimate control? It's about greed, not fear.”

I sigh.

Maybe he's right.

Maybe the fight is already lost.

But . . .

I stare outside the cave, at the stars slowly peeking out of the velvety black.

I'm not sure why I always turn to them. All they give are tiny p.r.i.c.ks of twinkling light-barely enough to make a dent in the darkness.

But they're always there.

Holding their own.

Guiding everyone until sunrise.

And the sun always rises.

”You're better off here,” Aston insists, like he knows what I'm thinking. ”Better off not wasting your life for a hopeless cause. In a few months-years, however long it takes-the world will crumble to Raiden. And you'll be glad you're safe over here. Carrying on in the shadows.”

”If that's true, then I would rather die with the rest of the good than live on in the emptiness without it.”

I turn to study him. His face is a portrait of frustration and pity. But I swear there's a hint of respect, too.

It lasts only a second. Then he smirks and says, ”Well, then I guess it's a good thing I'm not giving you a choice.”

I don't bother replying.

He's never going to let me go.

Not when he's so convinced that he's right and I'm wrong and the whole rebellion is a wasted endeavor.

The only way I'll get my freedom is to fight for it-steal it back. And I might have a way-though it would be a huge risk. But if I- ”So how about another song?” Aston asks. ”You know, to fill the awkward silence? I so enjoyed your fragile voice earlier.” ”And what will I get in return?”