Inclement

“Hey, kid.”

Kyrie had been waiting for Boon to speak up, but he still winced when it happened. They’d left Keishi on foot, and normally, Kyrie liked running with wolves. The speed. The freedom. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the whispered warnings of passing winds.

Running had become outrunning, and Kyrie was going to lose the race.

Boon stopped on the edge of a thicket, and Kyrie halted before him, head bowed.

“Maybe you should have a look,” the wolf said.

A rough gust blew Kyrie’s hair forward. Tucking straying locks behind his ear, he turned so the next burst of wind cleared his face. In the distance, Keishi was buried under an ominous cloud. And nearer to them, a smaller smudge of black scudded their way—slow but determined.

Boon said, “Funny weather. Unseasonable.”

“Yes.”

“Those are imps, aren’t they? We had a close brush with their sort in the tropics.”

“Yes.”

“And that pile-up of—how would you put it—inclement weather? It’s looking for you. And that littler one’s got a fix on you.”

“Yes.”

Boon grunted. “Gonna make me quiz you into a corner? Come clean, Kyrie. What are we facing?”

“Do you know stories of the Changing Winds?”

“Sure. Bethiel’s buddies.”

“They were trapped in bottles. I set them free.”

“No kidding?” Boon lifted his head, partially baring his fangs as he tasted scents. “They don’t seem particularly thankful.”

Kyrie watched unhappily as the smaller cloud spat a lightning bolt at a pole that carried power lines. “No. They do not.”

“For starters, let’s check back. You know how to get ahold of your bestie?”

“Yes.”

Boon passed him his phone. “Make sure they’re all right.”

Moments later, Kyrie was talking to Ever. “Is it raining there?”

“Pouring!”

“When did it begin?”

“Right after you left. Just … crash, bang! Thunder and lightning. And it doesn’t smell like a normal storm.”

“Are you all right? Boon wants to know if you need help.”

“Nope. We’ll be fine. Uncle Laud says it’s moving off.”

“Which way?” asked Kyrie, glancing at his companion.

“Not sure. Lemme check.”A few beats later, he was back. “Quen says north. Which is also weird. Not the usual path for a storm to take.”

“I thought so. Yes. I will lead it away.”

“What?”Ever sounded worried. “What’s going on?”

“That storm is looking for me. But do not worry. I will also be fine. Boon is here. We will work together.”

“But how do you lead a storm? Are you singing to it?”

“No. But that is a good idea. Thank you.”

When he passed the phone back to Boon, the wolf placed his own call. “Got a question, little bro. Can Michael’s barriers hold out weather? Okay, I get that. But can they? Because I’ve got your little bro here, and we’re pulling a pissed-off storm. Find out? Yeah, we’ll give you some time. Scenic route. Sure.”

And he offered the phone to Kyrie.

Ginkgo sounded the same as always. “Having fun, little bro?”

“I have not decided. This is certainly … interesting. But I do not want my curiosity to make trouble for everyone.”

“What’s caught your interest?”

“Captive wind imps. Only they are free now. And they are following me.”

“Isn’t that natural? They’d be interested in you, too.”

“I … hope so? I would like to befriend them, but their approach is ominous. I do not think they are entirely safe.”

“Gotcha. Well, you’ve got Boon right there, and Michael and I will support you from here. Keep us posted?”

Kyrie glanced at Boon, who bent close to promise, “Regular updates.”

Ginkgo asked, “Need us to send anyone?”

“Not likely,” said the wolf. “But if that changes, you’ll get word.”

The call ended, and Kyrie turned to look at the sky. That small, black cloud was rolling nearer. Kyrie frowned. “Is it getting smaller?”

“Yeah. Definitely losing strength.”

“Should I try talking to it?” Already making up his mind, Kyrie said, “I will try talking.”

“You did want to make a friend. Let’s see if that’s possible.”

They began walking toward the oncoming cloud, which seemed to be wisping away at the edges. Worried now, Kyrie picked up his pace. “Help me reach them in time?”

“You got it, kid.”

Boon scooped and set Kyrie astride broad shoulders, then leapt into the sky.

Ever had suggested singing, and that made a sort of sense. While Kyrie didn’t want a bride or anything, he did want to woo this wind to his side. To make friends. So he stretched out his hands and warbled a welcome.

“Good plan. Keep it up,” urged Boon.

They stopped near the smudge of darkness, and Kyrie listened, hoping for some whisper of response.

Boon warned, “That is one unhappy cloud.”

It also looked unhealthy. Kyrie did the only thing he could think of. He used sway. “Come to me. I will shelter you. I will lead you to a safe place. Please, believe me.”

The cloud swirled and sank, and Boon moved up, as if to catch it. Then there was a cool mist all around Kyrie’s head and shoulders, and a masculine voice filtered into his thoughts—weary as a sigh and decidedly out-of-sorts.“Drown you … rattle your bones … throw bolts until you’re … burning. Traitorous wretch. Where’s my … my friend …?”

Kyrie gasped in surprise, then choked on the thickened air.

“Serves you right … little terror.”And then with a shift in tone. “Little. You’re only little. A child …? Who sends a child against … an eldermost storm?”

Immediately, Kyrie could breathe again, so he whispered, “I tried to help. Let me help?”

“Where’s Haizea and Tzefira? What’ve you done to Dima?”And in a plaintive whine, “Bethiel?”

Kyrie tried again, coaxing, “Come to me, and I will shelter you. I will lead you to a safe place.”

“You? You!” And with traces of disdain, “I don’t want you.”

Even so, the cloud curled into a tight ball and sank into his outstretched arms. But trying to hold a storm proved impossible. It dissipated with a puff, and all was silent.

“You okay, kid?” asked Boon. “Seems like you got through.”

“I could hear his voice, but it was very weak.”

“Cloud’s gone, but the air’s thick with the scent of him. Like there’s a storm coming.” Boon quietly added, “He’s still here, yeah?”

“I cannot tell where he went, yet I do not think he has gone far.”

“Little terror,”muttered the voice.

“Oh.” Kyrie placed a hand over his heart. “He is with me. Somehow …?”

“Are they taking from you?” Boon sounded worried. “Would you know if you’re being depleted?”

“I would know. And I am not.” Kyrie gave the wolf’s hair a soothing pat, then immediately felt silly for doing so. “It is as if I have become his bottle. Should I try tending him?”

“You know how?”

“Not officially.”

“Let’s not rush into any bond-building without Argent’s say-so.” Boon circled there in midair to stare off toward the south. “And I’m not eager to find out if you can contain something bigger. Because if the stories are true, that’ll be Dima. And she’s got a whole lot more in the way of staying power.”

Kyrie had been playing with passing winds all his life, but this felt both different … and dangerous. “Can we lead her out to sea?”

“Better for everyone if we do.” Boon handed up his phone. “I’m gonna shift, so hold tight. Update Ginkgo. Tell him we’ll take a seaside approach to Stately House. And to expect a typhoon.”