Page 192 of Storm Caller

A hand covers my mouth as I’m lifted off my feet. I sink my teeth into flesh, and the Guard howls as he snatches his hand away and drops me. My feet hit the pavement, my ankles rolling, but I don’t waste a second before I bolt.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Sol shouts.

She grabs my arm and yanks, and then I’m going down. I hit the street, my hands and knees scraping against concrete. The wind is knocked out of me as I roll over, and then Sol is on top of me, seizing my wrists. I try to fight her off, but she’s stronger than me.

“Get off!” I shriek, kicking, fighting, flailing.

She makes a claw with her hands and tries to scratch my face.

“Stop! No!”

Her expression is wild, her skin flushed. “You are mine, Poet Gr—”

Suddenly, General Sol is hauled off me.

And there stands my father, gripping her by the back of her coat.

“I said you couldn’t have her,” he snarls before he spins her around, cranks his fist, and punches her in the face. Her head snaps back, and she staggers a few steps. Blood coats her mouth and nose, and she touches her lips before her fingers come away wet.

“You bastard!” she cries, flying at my father, her dark hair streaking behind her.

They clash as I lie on the ground, trying to catch my breath. I notice that Sol’s Guard is crumpled in a heap on the sidewalk. Did my father do that?

Now, Sol and my father are rolling across the pavement, trying to land punches as they claw and grab at each other. I’m kind of shocked he knows how to move like that.

For a moment, I let them continue, trying to decide what to do next.

I should run for help. Jump in.

They roll again, crashing into the body of the fallen Guard as my father valiantly fights her off.

But Sol is a general.

The leader of an army.

My father might have trained for the Patrol over a decade ago, but it’s obvious that she’s far more skilled.

Before I can intervene, she snatches the Guard’s dropped stunner and blasts my father in the stomach. He goes flying, hitting the wall of a building, his head cracking against it with a sickening crunch as he slowly slides down.

He slumps to the floor, and now Sol is staring at me.

The clouds rumble overhead, and we both look up as the sky explodes with jagged streaks of Spark.

Our gazes meet, and I think we both have the same idea at the same moment.

I call to the storm.

I think she must, too.

I don’t know what I’m doing. Can I pull it away from her? Can I take it from her?

I close my eyes, and I try to feel it. I think of the night I waited on the rocks for Rook, when the storm became a part of me. It’s almost like I can sense it pumping through my veins. Somewhere along the way, I grew around the storm, offering it space, giving it a home.

As my eyes open, I watch General Sol raise her arms.

It all seems to happen in slow motion as the air around us condenses.

More rough lines of Spark spread across the sky, blanketing us in the glow of amethyst light.