“They know about the godstones,” Caelan replied, and that was all he needed to say. At least for now.
But he wasn’t going to put his friends in danger another second longer if he could help it. They’d created the distraction he needed to escape. They’d gotten the Caspagir forces hammering at the Empire’s navy. They’d gotten him free. Now it was his turn to strike back.
Digging around inside of him, he located the crackle of energy that he’d started to associate with the God of Storms. He pulled hard on it, waiting for Kaes to fight him or withhold the energy.
“Come on, kid. Let’s show these Empire snots what a real storm looks like.” Kaes cackled in his ear. He turned his head, half expecting to see the God of Storms standing beside him, but there was nothing there. Excellent. Kaes was driving him crazy.
“Okay, but I want my friends to be placed somewhere safe first,” Caelan murmured.
“What? What are you planning, Cael?” Drayce demanded.
Caelan blinked to find his three companions staring at him. Okay, so he hadn’t said that in his head like he’d thought.
“Kaes is going to help me, but I need to get you out of danger first.” Caelan straightened from where he had been crouched against the railing.
“Caelan, I don’t like this,” Rayne said in a stern voice.
“I know, but I won’t have you risking your lives more than you already have.”
“That’s our right and our duty. Don’t take that from us,” Eno shouted.
They could call him selfish later. He’d lost enough recently. If it was within his power, he was not going to lose them as well.
Calling on the gift from the God of Storms, Caelan allowed the wind to gust and swirl, lifting him off the deck and into the air. Drayce made a grab for him, but his fingertips slipped off the edge of his boot. They shouted, but he could barely hear them over the wind and explosions. Slowly, he moved his right arm through the air, directing the wind to sweep under and around them.
As carefully as a mother lifting her babe into her arms, the wind picked up his companions and whisked them over the crashing waves and between the ships bobbing in the harbor. Drayce’s eyes never wavered from him as the distance grew between them.
The second they were near the land, the wind placed them behind Caspagir’s defensive lines.
“Higher, boy. You need to get into the clouds. To feel where the storm is born,” Kaes directed.
Caelan tilted his head and stared up at the midnight-black sky. The stars were steadily disappearing behind a thick morass of clouds as they poured across the city and harbor. The wind that had carried his friends rushed back and carried him up, higher than he’d ever imagined being. He disappeared into the clouds, where bitter cold bit at his flesh and froze the droplets of water on his clothes. Wind and rain lashed his face and whipped his hair.
He closed his eyes, losing himself in the growing storm. He needed to attack the Empire ships. To direct the storm’s anger.
A deep, horrible laugh echoed through his brain. It sounded like Kaes, but a thousand times more. Gone was the kindly old man in the fishing cap. This creature was enormous, dwarfing the clouds and the sea beneath him. Kaes was everywhere, and yet Caelan was sure he was seeing only a pale shadow of the true god still locked in the crystal.
“There’s no controlling the storm,” the god boomed across his brain. “The storm is pure rage and power. You need to feed it and set it free.”
“No! I won’t hurt my friends and allies. This power needs to be controlled,” he argued. He tried to mentally wrap his hands around the epic power swirling and building. The force of the storm multiplied with each heartbeat, each pulse of rage he tried to hide away.
“No!” he screamed, but the wind carried it off as soon as the sound left his lips. “You lied to me. You gave me this power to use against the Empire, to protect Thia from this greater evil, but I can’t control it. I can’t use it if I can’t control it.”
Kaes laughed, and it was like a crash of thunder that nearly shattered his eardrums. “No one can control the storm. Not even the God of Storms. The storm is pure chaos and power.”
The shadowy presence of the god moved closer, almost feeling as if it were wrapping around him. “You have rage buried deep inside of you. They stole your throne, Caelan. They killed your people.” The voice dropped to a whisper right beside his ear. “They murdered your mother as she stood protecting her people and the goddess in her care.”
“Don’t—” he started to say, but the rest of the warning became choked behind an angry sob. His mother. They stole his mother from him in a cowardly attack. They destroyed his home.