Mistress of the Wind (20 page)

“Would he have tried to kill the Wind Hag?”

The East Wind shook his head. “I cannot believe any one of us would have.” There was a thread of iron certainty in his voice.

Astrid grimaced. She had no time to uncover a possible plot against her. “This is something I will have to sort out later. I need to know if you can tell me where the place is that is east of the sun and west of the moon.”

The East Wind shook his head. “I have never heard of such a place. Why do you need to know?”

Astrid swallowed down her panic. “The troll who killed the Wind Hag has taken my lover there. I would defeat her and get him back.”

“Always this one troll, interfering with us.” The East Wind’s fists clenched. “And always the Wind Hag searches for a lover or a husband.”

And in this one thing, she and the old Wind Hag shared the same object of affection. Astrid tossed her head, her hair flying back in the East Wind’s angry blowing. She would not apologize for her love. And she would not give it up for her Winds.

“Would the West Wind know where this place is?” Her heart thundered in her chest. Desperate for any chance.

“West of the moon?” He nodded. “Perhaps.”

“Would you carry me to the West Wind?”

“You do not command me to take you?” The East Wind held her gaze and they stood for a long moment saying nothing.

Should she command him? She was not used to this indecision. She was out of her depth.

“Until I have your respect, I have no right to command you,” Astrid said at last.

“The West Wind and I have fought for dominance over each other for the last seventeen years. You ask me to carry you to my enemy.”

Astrid knew the simple clarity of fear. She needed his help at any cost or her quest to save Bjorn was doomed. “I promise I will do everything in my power to reconcile you with your brother. Consider this a favor to me and the first step to regaining the balance.”

“A favor? Beware, mistress, of putting yourself in my debt. Of being beholden to one of us, and not the others.” He turned from her and looked west.

Astrid realized the mistake she could have made and shivered. All she wanted was to get to Bjorn, but she would not find him unless she set her house in order first. Only if the winds were hers to command could she receive the aid she needed.

She drew herself up. “Take me to the West Wind.” She bent and took up her sack full of precious gifts, stepped to join the East Wind on the very edge of the ledge.

“You have decided to command me, after all?” He looked at her, a slanting, probing look. She held his gaze and nodded.

“Your wish, Mistress,” he said solemnly, turning to bow low on one knee. “Let us fly.”

He expanded, becoming three, four times larger than he had been. He reached out and scooped Astrid up in his hand, turned back to the ledge, and leapt off.

* * *

If she thought the wind steeds were fast, the East Wind was lightning. The air fought them as they whipped through it, ripping at Astrid’s clothes and forcing her to close her eyes, cover her head with her hands.

Like she was cowering.

When she realized what she was doing, when she remembered who she was, her cheeks burned. What kind of Wind Hag was she?

She fought the buffering, lifted her head and then, with eyes still closed, willed a shield of calm around her body. When she opened her eyes, all resistance had faded.

Now she could look ahead with the East Wind, his face determined and solemn, as he sped toward the brother who had become his enemy.

They flew high, far higher than the wind steeds, and the earth lay mapped out below her, a patchwork of valleys, mountains and twisting rivers gleaming in the late afternoon sun.

After many hours they came to a plateau, a long escarpment ending in a massive ridge of peaks. The East Wind gripped her a little tighter, and Astrid felt the familiar clutch of fear in her throat.

She saw a shimmer in the air far ahead, a moving mirage, and peered forward.

“What is it?”

“The fore-guard,” the East Wind said, and brought his other hand across, to hold Astrid more securely.

“They’re attacking us?” She leaned even further forward.

Attacked? By her own subject? She didn’t have
time
for this.

She saw them coming, fast as the East Wind, speeding toward a headlong collision.

“What will they try to do?”

“Force me back.”

At last Astrid could see the shields in the approaching air sprites’ hands. They were going to smack into the East Wind and drive him back.

“I could send out air sprites of my own?” The East Wind lifted an eyebrow, and Astrid shook her head.

“I will deal with this. We’re wasting time.” She imagined the air around her, completely under her control. The air sprites sped closer and closer, until they were only a field away.

With a firm nod of her head, a projection of will, she threw up a solid wall of air before them, and watched them slam against it.

“Fly over them,” she called to the East Wind, and dropped the wall.

He lifted up over the sprites as he sped past, then began to dive, almost in freefall through the pale blue sky.

Astrid looked back, and saw the sprites trailing them, their shields no longer raised.

“Brother,” the East Wind shouted over the shrieking gale as they came to the West Wind’s mountain top. “I bring the Wind Hag—”

Before he’d finished his sentence, something smashed into them, knocking Astrid out of the East Wind’s careful hands.

She fell downwards, tumbling, her scream echoing against the sheer cliffs of the mountains.

Sharp rocks and outcrops flew past, and below, growing larger and closer, a narrow river, edged with trees.

She needed to do something at once or she would die.

If she could create a vertical wall of air, she could create a horizontal one. Astrid focused on the air beneath her, created a cushion of it, and bounced to a stop just short of the tree tops. She lay, weak with relief, then dragged herself to standing, shaking with fear and rage.

“Up,” she commanded her platform. She rose fast, giving it a spin so she spiraled up, looking on all sides so nothing could take her by surprise again.

The two winds twisted and fought each other over the edge of a sheer-faced cliff, the West Wind’s smoky mirage clearly whiter against the East Wind’s gray. Clouds boiled above them and the West Wind drew back a hammer’s fist.

“You!” Fury burned in her, her dress and cloak billowing as the agitated air around her spun and twisted. She imagined the air as an extension of her own hand, grabbed the West Wind by his long hair and jerked him back. Smacked him into the ground.

He lay, stunned, for a moment. “Wind Hag?”

As he rose, his sharp etched face was comical in its surprise and disbelief, as if he’d had no idea it was his mistress he’d just thrown down the side of a mountain.

Of course, he could be lying. He could be the one the Wind Hag had been afraid would harm her. He’d certainly just had a good try.

Astrid willed her air platform over, and stepped onto the rocky ledge. Looked the West Wind straight in the eyes, feeling the sparks of anger flying from her own. “You do not attack each other again, or you deal with me.”

The West Wind bowed. “I have no need to fight him if you are back.”

Astrid gave him a cool look.

“I’m back.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

“I
have never heard of a place east of the sun and west of the moon.” The West Wind shrugged.

“I had hoped you would know it.” Fear closed up Astrid’s throat, and she could barely speak. But she couldn’t let the fear control her. Then she would never win. “We will have to ask one of the other winds. Between the four of you, there is surely no place on this earth you do not go.”

“I’ll take you,” the West Wind said.

She flicked her eyes to his face, distrustful of his eagerness. The East Wind was tired, slower than the West Wind would be, but trustworthy and safe.

“Try the South Wind first.” The East Wind looked north thoughtfully.

“You think the North Wind is the one?” Astrid turned north herself.

“What one?” West looked between them.

“The Wind Hag suspected her death was no accident.” Heat radiated off East again, and Astrid saw how deeply hurt and insulted he was, still. “She thought one of us . . . “ He could not even say it. “She set some air sprites to guard our new mistress and keep her hidden from us.”

She saw West half disappear in shock, then he drew himself up to double his size, his dry air sucking up East’s humidity. “That is . . . “ He seemed speechless.

Her reservations toward him evaporated like the moisture from East’s breath. She would accept his offer of a ride.

“To the South Wind then.” She bowed to East, and he blew a kiss to her cheek. The West Wind extended his hand for her to climb upon and as soon as she knelt in his palm, he flew straight up in the air.

When they were so high Astrid felt she could reach out and touch the stars appearing in the deep-dusk blue of the sky, he turned south. Racing against time.

* * *

“Who is stronger? You or the South Wind?” Astrid’s voice was thick with sleep. She’d closed her eyes shortly after the West Wind began the journey, and she was not sure how many hours had passed.

“The South.” West’s answer was short. “But you’ll see that soon enough.”

While she was sleeping he’d flown lower, and the full moon shone an eerie silver light over the red dunes of the desert below them.

“Waves of sand,” she said, wonder-struck.

“We are close to where the South Wind lives.” West dropped lower still, and like the East Wind had done, gripped her tighter. “Be ready.”

“What do you expect?”

“Dust devils, for a start. Are you afraid?”

“No, I’m not.”

Ahead, she saw a swirl of sand on the horizon, twisting in tiny whirlwinds that raced toward them.

“Dust devils?” she asked, and West nodded, his sharp face tense. He looked as if he were braced for impact, and Astrid focused ahead of her.

These air sprites were messier than West’s fore-guard. Less controlled as they spun in their blasting sand spirals.

“Throw me into the middle of them,” she said to West.

He jerked his head to look at her, his mouth open.

“I have a plan.” She kept her tone mild.

The old Wind Hag would perhaps have spoken sharply, angrily, but Astrid was too new to her power to blame him for doubting her.

“Get ready . . . now!”

“As you command.” His voice was skeptical, dry as the air he blew across the earth. But he threw her. Perfectly into the middle of the advancing dust devils.

As she hoped, they were confused. Expecting only the West Wind, they did not know what to make of the woman hurtling through the air at them. She saw their slim, narrow faces and bodies where the sand blew against them, creating shifting glimpses, making their movements seem jerky.

She formed her platform just before she touched the sand, then spun it up like she’d done on the mountain, this time sucking all the air with her as she went. Creating her own whirlwind. Creating chaos within chaos.

The strength of her tornado far outweighed the power of the sprites, and they shrieked in rage as they were sucked into the vortex. She rose up through the eye, passed the screaming sprites caught in their whirling prison and found the West Wind waiting for her at the top.

He met her gaze with respect. “Let us find the South Wind.”

She stepped from her platform back into his palm and they drifted slowly forward, toward a rocky outcrop standing alone in the vast desert, glimmering silver-gray and orange in the moonlight.

“I bring the Wind Hag,” West called out, his shout a high whistle against the rocks.

“You lie.” The answering cry engulfed them in hot, dry air that sucked the moisture from Astrid’s lungs. And then it seemed the desert sands rose up around them, and every tiny grain bombarded them.

Shocked, Astrid widened the layer of air she’d had around herself since she’d traveled with East, bringing West under its protection, and looked in astonishment at the sand storm assaulting them.

An attack?

Anger sparked within. She could lose Bjorn. This discord could cost her everything.

She sent the sand flying at them back with equal force.

She knew the South Wind started feeling the sting of his own attack when the bombardment slacked off. Then slowly came to a stop.

At last.
Relief coursed through her.

“Wind Hag?”

“Enough proof for you?” Astrid unclenched her fists. Saw the hazy red cloud of the South Wind shimmer into view. Like his sprites, he was lean and sinewy, with high cheeks and a thin, patrician nose. He bowed.