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There was no struggle to gather together the power gifted by Kaes. It rushed through him like a brutal wind sweeping hard and cold across the plains. It stole his breath away and sent a jolt of electricity through every nerve ending. Wind poured over the rooftop and swirled around him, sending his black hair dancing about his head and tugging at his clothes.
He was vaguely aware of the wind lifting him higher and higher into the air. The Empire ships came clearly into view. The wind snapped and whipped up the waves, gilding them with white caps against the dark ships. Overhead, clouds churned and spread across the sky, blotting out the sparkling white stars and sliver of moon. Blotting out the heavens. They didn’t need to see what he was going to do.
Anger boiled in his veins. Here, he could finally have a taste of vengeance. These people had betrayed and killed his mother. They’d stolen a good queen from her people years too early. They’d robbed too many people of Erya of their lives. And now he was running and hiding, unable to go home.
That was fine. He didn’t want to go home until they were all dead anyway.
Caelan lifted both of his arms and thrust them forward, commanding a great gust of wind. Waves grew and battered the ships. He clenched his teeth, snarling low in his throat. Caspagir ships were getting rocked, too. He didn’t want to hurt the Caspagir soldiers, but they were getting in his damn way.
Thick bolts of lightning snaked across the sky in tattered threads followed by booms of thunder. The clouds fractured and let loose sheets of ice-cold rain. But Caelan barely felt it. He needed more. Needed to finish off the Empire ships as they rocked and tumbled in the water.
Power poured through him in thick, molten waves. He could barely breathe, barely think. He was drowning and couldn’t catch a lungful of air. It was too much. The storm was slipping from his grasp. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t crush the Empire without endangering the Caspagir forces, and possibly even himself.
“You’re not ready yet, kid,” Kaes murmured in his ear.
“No!” he tried to scream, but the word came out choked and broken.
“You’re trying to tackle the power of a god, and you haven’t figured out how to be a king yet, Prince Caelan.”
Caelan clenched his eyes shut against Kaes’s words. But it was true. He was still clinging to the title of prince, because if he was still a prince, his mother wasn’t dead and he wasn’t left to try to lead a country all alone.
But he could do this. He could get vengeance. Justice for his mother. He could do this.
“Don’t forget that a god’s power is good for more than brute force, and you still need some answers.”
And just like that, the wind left him. The world spun and he became lightheaded, barely clinging to consciousness. He was falling and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Kaes had left him or cut off his access to the power, or maybe he’d just broken something in his brain. Muscles clenched, trying to prepare for the potentially bone-shattering impact when he saw a green sparkle before his eyes.
Tula.
On a gasp, Caelan reached for the power that had woven itself through his very DNA almost since birth. It sparked and lit him up the same way it always did when he cast the protection dome. His descent to the hard concrete roof slowed and he landed with a splash in a thin puddle of dirty water.
He groaned softly. Definitely not as hard a landing as it could have been, but not like flopping on a featherbed either. The hard slap of shoes across the wet roof echoed above the pounding rain and Caelan tried to push himself upright to meet the threat but released another moan of relief instead when he found it was only Drayce running toward him.
“Cael!” he shouted, his voice high and worried.
“I’m okay,” he grunted, though he was beginning to wonder if he was exaggerating. Muscles ached and his head throbbed. This wasn’t from the fall. He must have pulled something when using the God of Storms’s powers.
Drayce slid to a stop beside him and kneeled, one arm wrapping around Caelan’s shoulders to pull him close. “I saw you fall. The storm—”
“I can’t. I can’t control it,” he choked out, hating to admit his failure.
“It’s okay. The storm is enough cover for us to slip out of town while Caspagir keeps the Empire busy. But we need to get moving now. Rayne and Eno are holding them back.”
Caelan shook his head. Kaes was right. Killing them all wouldn’t get him any closer to the answers they desperately needed. Nor would Drayce’s suggestion. “If we run, what will that have gotten us?”
