Page 198 of Storm Caller

“Where?” she asks.

“The Tiera Frais,” I say. “Remember what I said? There’s a whole world out there.”

“I can’t do that,” she says, vigorously shaking her head.

“Why not?”

“What would I possibly do out there? What would your father say?”

I inhale a deep, fortifying breath. “Mom . . . Dad is . . . gone.”

She stares at me, blinking her big, dark eyes for an uncomfortably long time. She’s clearly gone into shock. I quickly explain what happened, while she just keeps staring at me.

“Mom? Say something.”

She doesn’t answer. Definitely in shock. Maybe this is better.

“Mom, go into your room and change into something practical, okay? Pants, sweater, boots. Grab a jacket. I’m packing you a bag.”

“You are?” she asks, finally finding her voice.

“Yes.” Then I turn her by the shoulders and push her toward her closet, where I start choosing some suitable options. She doesn’t have much. Most of her wardrobe consists of impractical silk dresses meant for a life of leisure.

She’s going to die in the Tiera Frais.

Without her satin pillows and her luxurious face creams.

Her fancy perfumes and her designer shoes.

The image is so funny that I nearly burst into laughter.

But we have to get out of here.

I throw whatever I can find into two bags. Most of my clothing is back at school, but we’re about the same size, so we can share.

As I gather what I can from my closet, I notice the empty space on my dresser where Teddy always sat.

He’s too far away now, lying on my bed at Amery. I wish I could go and get him, but maybe our separation symbolizes an old life that I’m truly leaving behind.

I stare out my south-facing window, which reveals a city in chaos. Fire burns in every direction, and it occurs to me that the people really are fighting back. They’re demanding to be heard.

It’s what we hoped they would do.

A part of me wants to help, but I did what I could, and this is their fight now.

I enter the living room, heading for another window, this one facing north, as my heart sinks to my feet. Far in the distance, I can see the rock wall and the flat plain beyond.

The area is littered with people—hundreds, maybe even thousands—all crawling over one another like an army of shadows.

They’re all fighting. The Storm Guard. The Brigade. The Patrol.

And the Veil.

More fires burn against the flash of several stunner beams. The explosion of guns echoes in the distance. I wonder if Rook and his siblings have already found their way to the outskirts. We need to move. I have to get back to him.

I return to the bedroom to find my mother sitting on the bed, staring at nothing. But she’s mostly dressed. Good.

I grab her boots and kneel down in front of her, stuffing her feet inside. She’s like a rag doll, lifeless and limp, and I’m sort of grateful for it. I’m sure she’ll realize what’s happening soon enough, but hopefully I can get her out of here first. Once the news sinks in, I expect that she’ll need to mourn my father in a way I won’t really understand.