Chapter 48
The Aether Storm appeared through a veil of rain as a whirling vortex of indigo, cerulean, and steely blue.
It stretched across the storm-darkened sky like a beast, its roars torn from claps of thunder and bolts of crystal lightning taking the appearance of claws.
The air hummed with energy that skittered across Will’s skin.
Will had seen the Aether Storm many times before, but it had been years since his last flight over the Tamarix Desert. Since then, the storm had clearly grown in both size and strength.
The wind howled relentlessly, and as they drew nearer, he couldn’t tell if the periodic crashes were actually thunder or the Marruvian Mountains colliding with one another inside the vortex.
“Get as close as you can, then hold steady,” Will told Nicholas, standing next to him at the helm within the pilothouse.
Nicholas was the new pilot after the Maelstrom lost Quintus, and though Will didn’t know him well, he came highly recommended by Carlos Rackham of the Moon Raider, another ship in their fleet.
So far, he was doing well, but Will doubted he’d expected to be flying into the Aether Storm his first week on the job.
Even so, he took it in stride.
“Aye, Captain,” Nicholas said.
While typically left down, they’d already equipped tempered glass windshields around the pilothouse for protection. It would reduce visibility, but Will hoped the Skystone compensated for that.
Rain pelted Will on all sides when he stepped out of the pilothouse. He slicked his hair back with his hand to keep rain from falling in his eyes and surveyed the deck.
The crew darted around the deck, everyone pulling their weight to stabilize the Maelstrom as they closed in on the storm.
Sebastian made rounds, moving from man to man in an effort to keep morale high.
Serena and Malcolm were down below, ready to act quickly if something happened to the engines.
Edmund was at the bow, where he’d bolted three massive glass canisters to the deck in anticipation of siphoning Aether from the storm.
Each canister had a pressure gauge and was connected to a suction hose with a wide opening controlled by a valve.
The hoses converged in the back and connected to a third canister, where the boneglass pendant resided.
Amaya was with Ed, Deadeye strapped across her back. Mouse and Grace were there, too, following instructions from Edmund as he put the finishing touches on his apparatus.
“Captain!” he said when he caught sight of Will. “Everything should be in order. Once we complete the siphon, it should take about an hour to infuse the collected Aether into the pendant.”
Will nodded, eyeing the three hoses. He’d be manning one of them, Sebastian a second, and Crowe a third. Will had never siphoned Aether from the atmosphere before, but Edmund expected powerful resistance from the storm, and his still-healing injuries meant he wasn’t up for the task.
“We’re here,” Sebastian said, coming up behind Will with Crowe on his heels. “Where do you want us?”
“Just a moment,” Edmund said, reading an Aether concentration gauge strapped to his forearm. “We’re not quite close enough.”
Will looked behind them and up to the pilothouse, where Nicholas fought to keep control of the ship. Ford stood at his side, ready to jump in if the winds became too strong.
Will caught Amaya’s eye. Her hair hung in wet, stringy curls, and her eyes looked like the storm itself. Crossing over to her, Will reached into his pocket and pulled out the conductor containing the Skystone. He tossed it to her, and she caught it in both hands.
“Ready for the light show?” he asked.
She cast an apprehensive glance at the monstrous storm. “I guess we’ll find out.”
Amaya looked paler than usual, and up close he could see her hands trembling.
“Hey.” Will cupped her hands with his and kissed them. Her pulse raced beneath his fingertips. “Pearce traversed the storm. If it didn’t hurt him, it won’t hurt us. It won’t hurt you.”
Her eyes flashed as if affronted he’d called her out on her fear.
“We don’t know if it hurt him, do we?”
“We know he survived.”
Will wanted to kick himself. What kind of comfort was that? We’ll survive? There were lots of ways to survive, and not all of them were better than dying—like her becoming Graven’s interdimensional slave if this didn’t work.
This had to work. It would.
“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Will promised. “I’ll throw myself off this ship first. Okay?”
“It’s not just me I’m—Will!” Amaya lurched back, yanking her hands away as her voice pitched an octave higher.
Will saw it when she did. The rain had already soaked through their hair and clothes, but when new droplets landed on Amaya, they glowed. Raindrops streaked through her hair and ran down her face as if she was weeping starlight.
“Amaya!” Grace cried. “Are you okay?”
Edmund grabbed her wrist and examined the raindrops with clinical fascination, skimming a finger along her arm.
“There’s Aether in the rain. It’s reacting to her.”
“Don’t touch me,” Amaya snapped, swatting away his hand.
The droplets lost their luster when they dripped off of her, but there were always more to take their place.
The rain’s scintillating glow against her skin created an eerie, almost ethereal image against the darkness behind them, equal parts mesmerizing and terrifying.
Will blinked once, then again, unable to believe what he was seeing . . . and not liking it one bit.
He asked the first question that came to mind.
“Does it hurt?”
Amaya shook her head, but she didn’t look okay. Her dark brows were pulled together, her lips pressed into a firm line. She clutched the orb to her chest.
“We can turn back.” The words left Will’s mouth before he knew he was saying them, reversing all the convictions he’d held just moments ago. “We can figure out what this is first.”
They’d create some distance between them and the storm and regroup. Edmund could test rain samples, and they’d go from there.
“We know what this is!” Amaya said, shaking her head. “Let’s just get what we came for.”
“She’s right,” Edmund said, watching his gauge. “We’re within range. Everyone in position!”
“Get her inside.” Will directed the order at Mouse and Grace. The teenagers obliged, flanking Amaya and attempting to shepherd her away.
When she didn’t move, Will shot her a pleading look. He needed to focus on the siphoning, and he couldn’t do that when he was worried about her and the damn rain.
“Bluebird, please. Go up to the pilothouse.”
“It’s not hurting me. I’m staying.”
“Actually, Amaya, if you wouldn’t mind,” Edmund jumped in. “We need as few variables as possible during the siphon, and, well, you’re quite a large one, judging by what’s happening here.” He gestured vaguely to all of her.
She frowned but offered no rebuttal to that. There wasn’t more time to argue, anyway; Nicholas couldn’t hold this position forever.
Will stepped into his place alongside Sebastian and Crowe, rolling up his sleeves.
But before he could pick up his siphoning hose, Amaya jumped in front of him and tugged on his shirt, dragging him down for a kiss.
It was hard, brief, and passionate, drawing out all of the fear he hadn’t realized he was holding onto and replacing it with the courage he needed.
“Be careful,” she said. Up close, the glowing blue raindrops were even more hypnotic. She was truly otherworldly.
And then she was gone, disappearing up to the pilothouse with Mouse and Grace, and Will was hoisting the siphoning hose over his shoulder. He planted his boots on the slick deck and tightened his core, determined to hold his ground.
“When I call you, open your valve!” Edmund shouted over the storm. “We need three very specific varieties for this to work, so don’t open until I tell you!”
He waited until a particularly bright thread of silvery Aether spun into view, then hollered at Sebastian.
Bas opened the valve on his siphoning hose and aimed it toward the silver-blue strand. The Aether swirled into a spiral and, with a massive whoosh, shot into the siphon.
The force of the impact nearly knocked Bas off his feet. He gripped the hose tighter, fighting to keep it under control as energy poured in. Will glanced behind them to find the glass canister filling with silver, swirling dust at an alarming rate.
“Okay! Turn it off!” Edmund shouted.
Sebastian tried to turn the valve to cut off the flow, but it didn’t turn.
“It’s stuck!”
“Shit.” Edmund ran over and tried to help, but it still didn’t budge. Will looked back; the canister was about to overflow. He didn’t want to know what would happen if it burst, and he had no intention of finding out.
He dropped his hose and bolted to Sebastian and Edmund in two strides, covering their hands with his and summoning all his strength to help them turn it.
Their combined efforts were just enough. The valve closed, cutting off the supply of Aether.
“That was close. Thanks, Captain,” Edmund said, panting. He looked back at the storm. “Crowe!”
Will returned to his position as another gust of Aether flew by—this one a vibrant cerulean.
Crowe opened his valve. While he held his ground a little better than Sebastian, the Aether still pushed him back.
Crowe, Edmund, and Sebastian were able to close the valve together when the canister was full of the glittering blue substance, and then it was Will’s turn.
Edmund waited several minutes until a huge tornado of navy spun by, larger than all the rest.
“That one’s yours, Captain!”