Page 56 of Storm Caller

“Or die trying?” I ask, lifting a brow.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a half smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

18

Once Rook and I have agreed to the general’s plan, she departs from the Veil with her Guards, leaving instructions to await her return. She tells us she needs to prepare the way and ensure the charges against me are dropped before we come back. I try to find confidence in her assurances, but it doesn’t stop the constant wail of alarms blaring in the back of my head.

One night, Rook picks up his violin and tells me that we’re heading into the forest. He wants to play for me like I asked. We dress in warm clothing, then quietly make our way down the tree-lined paths.

The stars are out, and the night hums with the sounds of nature. We’ve spent a lot of time out here, exploring the wilderness while he shows me everything the Veil has to offer.

I ask him a thousand questions. I’m fascinated by the Neo-Cities and learn there are eleven fully functioning metropolises spread across the continent. Some of which the Veil considers allies, and some of which are foes. The Neo-Cities don’t sound that different from New Manhattan, where some of the former buildings have been preserved, but more often they’ve been rebuilt.

Rook’s hand is warm around mine as he leads me to a clearing overlooking the valley. My breath fogs in condensed puffs as we approach a rock sitting a few feet from the cliff’s edge. Amethyst clouds roll overhead, casting us in their neon glow as my fingers tingle, anticipating a hit of Spark.

Rook settles onto the stone, propping the instrument under his chin.

“I’ve always loved playing out here,” he says. “Especially when a storm is brewing.”

His reverent look as he takes in his surroundings is a reminder of how much this place means to him. This green grass and these open skies are a part of him. He doesn’t just live in the Veil; its existence is intrinsic to everything that Rook is.

Then, he offers me a bright smile and touches his bow to the strings. The first notes swell, drifting across the night like glowing embers.

I knew he’d be good. Really, I knew he’d be amazing—because what isn’t he amazing at? But nothing quite prepares me for the way his eyes close and his hands move as he loses himself in the music. The sway of his body. The way his fingers elegantly dance across the instrument’s neck.

The storm draws closer, purple flashes contouring his features. I watch him, swaying as he sways, my chest growing tight and tears burning the backs of my eyes. I wish I had a camera to capture this moment, but then I decide it’s too special for that.

When he’s finished, he lowers the instrument and asks, “What do you think?”

I shake my head and whisper, “Nothing has ever made me so sad yet so happy at the same time.”

He gives me a prolonged look, then reaches out a hand. “It’s been a while since we touched a storm together.”

It has, and I’ve been craving it, so I let him wrap his fingers around mine. Then we stand side by side as the storm builds. When a bolt of Spark explodes above us, I feel him tense as we brace for it.

As it strikes us, I gasp, squeezing Rook’s hand tighter, feeling the power of Spark roll through me in languid, tumbling waves. It crests and surges, filling my limbs, making me feel weightless, like I’m orbiting above the earth.

After it’s over, I watch Rook in the dark with his eyes focused on mine.

This moment is a reminder that we are intrinsically connected to each other, too.

And at some point, I’ll have to reckon with that.

It feels like too much time and not enough passes before we receive word that General Sol is on her way to collect us. It’s late evening when she arrives, and from that moment, everything moves at light speed.

I’m still torn about this decision. I’ve had a lot of time to think. I want to go home. I want to see my family and my friends. But it also feels strange to wish for it, because there’s a very good chance I’ll die as soon as I set foot in the city.

The Veil is so peaceful, like an embrace. The only thing waiting for me in New Manhattan is chaos.

But I can’t stay here forever. I know that. I don’t belong here, and I’ve always known my fate might lead me into Extinguisher hands.

Rook finds me in my room once I’ve packed my few meager possessions. “Ready?” he asks.

I hoist my pack onto my shoulders. “Not really?”

He offers me a serious look. “You can still change your mind.”

“No, I can’t.”