As soon as it makes contact, the darkness recoils with a piercing scream, gradually melting away until the brothers have shed that consuming gloom.
I shake the nearest sibling. “Boreas!”
He startles, fist snapping out. I narrowly avoid a broken nose. He glances around, wild-eyed, before his piercing blue gaze locks onto me. “What happened?”
“Prince Balior trapped you with his power,” I say. “Eurus is battling him now, but…” The East Wind dives to avoid being impaled by a shadow spear. He hits the ground, broken wings crushed beneath him.
The West Wind blinks blearily as he sits up. “Mother? You know I hate when it rains indoors.”
Eurus and Prince Balior lock blades, one a bend of tarnished silver, the other a sheet of deepest night. Hail pelts harder, a sting against my skin. I shield my face, watching with mounting horror as the prince draws Eurus toward the ledge.
“He’s going to throw Eurus over the cliff!” I cry.
Boreas attempts to stand. Notus groans and rolls onto his side, a hand to his temple. Zephyrus glances around in confusion.
I can’t wait for them. Neither can Eurus.
I sprint toward the East Wind with all the strength I possess. Another clap of thunder shakes my bones as shadow explodes outward from Prince Balior and shifts into the configuration of a massive bull. I push my legs harder, throat scraped raw from a scream dragged up from the very depths of my soul.
The bull lowers its head. Eurus attempts to take flight, but he is only able to lift himself a foot off the ground before the pain of his broken wings forces him down. Seconds before the bull bashes him over the ledge, the East Wind tosses out a noose, which slithers under the prince’s guard and wraps tight around his neck. The bull dissipates.
Eurus murmurs beneath his breath, one hand outstretched. Bits of shadow ooze from Prince Balior’s eyes and nose. Despite his thrashing, he is unable to tear free, unable to block Eurus’ wind-carved arrow from impaling his heart straight through.
Prince Balior gasps, body folding forward. With cold regard, the East Wind sends his winds through the now-gaping hole, stuffing air beneath the man’s skin. The prince’s shriek is so piercing it draws the hair straight up along my body. And as Eurus’ power funnels into his black-hearted foe, the ax begins to disintegrate in his hands.
The sight sobers me. If Eurus is to defeat Prince Balior, it will requireallof his power—power drawn from his ax; power siphoned from thestorm that protects his island; power unearthed from his blood, bones, and internal organs.
Legs braced, he shoves his palms against each other, his expression carved from alabaster as the entirety of the storm shifts direction, swelling like a great tumor atop the island of rock. In his eyes, I see the will. I see the acceptance, the resolve. And slowly, slowly the walls of the storm begin to sink inward.
The winds lash with greater intensity. They do not wish to be directed, confined. But Eurus is their master. He crushes their dispute with his remaining strength and, with a final roar, funnels those last remnants into Prince Balior.
The man tosses back his head, mouth open in a soundless scream. His skin begins to dissolve, sloughing off his bones like ash. With a final word of power, the air ignites, tossing me backward with concussive force. My head slams against the ground, and the world goes dark.
33
“MIN!” SOMEONE SHAKES MY ARM, hard.
My eyes peel open, and I groan. It feels as if a sharp, slender pick repeatedly gouges the back of my skull, carving straight through bone. When I attempt to shift my head, the pain spikes, and I’m forced to close my eyes until the queasiness passes.
The voice comes again, ringing like a bass chapel bell. “Zephyrus, get her some water.”
“Me? Why can’t Boreas go?”
Another voice, withered by cold, snarls, “Do what Notus says and make yourself useful for a change.”
“I don’t even know where the kitchen is!”
“Then you best start looking.”
The West Wind grumbles something about dictatorial siblings before his footsteps fade.
In the end, it is the sound of absence that drags me fully to consciousness. The sea, its thunderous roar, no longer overwhelmed by thundering skies. Just the feeding of its tides, those mighty fists hammering against eroded stone. The hum of drizzle, the ping of hail—that, too, is gone.
My eyes flutter open. Blue, its ample sweep, fragmented by wisps of white cloud. A feeble breeze nudges my cheek, and I gasp, clutching Notus’ arm as he leans over me in concern. “Where’s Eurus?”
The South Wind supports my back as I sit up, appearing worse for wear. “Near the cliff’s edge.”
Along the perimeter of the grass, a figure lies sprawled across the ground, the North Wind kneeling at his side. He doesn’t move.
