Page 64 of Spirit Storm

We follow the three birds that threatened us at the cliff’s edge through a series of wide stone terraces carved into the peak. Each one drops slightly lower than the last, connected by channels worn smooth from centuries of claws and wind.

Other guardians watch us pass. Some are enormous, larger even than the ones leading us. Some are smaller, younger maybe, with feathers that haven't fully settled into their adult coloring.

All of them watch with the same absolute, unblinking assessment.

Asher walks slightly too close to my shoulder. "Okay," he says under his breath, barely moving his lips, "I'm a little bit in love with them, but also I'm very aware that at any moment we could be their prey."

"Stop talking," Mica says pleasantly, from his other side. “You’re going to jinx us.”

"I'm just observing."

"Observe in a way that doesn’t envision us as bird food."

The Guardian leads us to the lowest terrace, and we step out onto an open balcony. The stone nest is enormous, built into a natural depression in the rock, ringed by boulders that have been worn into smooth curves over what I'd guess is a very long time.

Inside it, tucked against something warm and feathered and immense, is Violet.

She's curled on her side, with her knees drawn up, and her arms wrapped around herself.

The guardian curved around her is unlike any of the others we've passed. The feathers are a deep charcoal streaked with silver, and the crown—a ridge of long feathers that arc back from the brow—is pure white.

Violet is crying. Small, exhausted, wrung-out, crying.

"Vi?”

Her head comes up, and for a second she looks at me as if she's wondering if I'm real.

Then she scrambles out of the nest, closes the distance, and hits me hard enough that I stumble back a step. With both of my arms locked around her, she buries her face against my shoulder.

“Shh, I’ve got you. I’m here now and I’m going to get you back to the healers.”

She sobs against me, and I keep my arms tight around her. “I was so scared.”

“Of course you were. But it’s over now. I’ve got you. Here, take these.” I pull out the two conduits and place one in the palm of each of her hands. “Close your eyes and breathe. Everything is all right now. I’ve got you.”

Above us, the storm softens. The pressure in the air shifts, the driving wind eases, the lightning retreats, and the rain gentles.

The great guardian in the nest rises. She unfolds slowly, regally, and her wingspan catches the wind as she stretches. Her crown feathers arc upward in full display for one breathtaking moment before they spread wide against the dark sky.

She steps down from the nest, resettles her majestic feathers, and walks toward us.

I'd bet money that's the matriarch.

Violet pulls back after a while, swiping at her face with her sleeve, and takes a long, unsteady breath.

"I'm sorry." She looks between me, Mica, and Asher, red-eyed and exhausted. "I'm so sorry. The power came so fast, and my conduit didn’t work, and I couldn't stop it, and I nearly hit three students, and I panicked.”

“Breathe, V.” Asher puts a hand on her shoulder. "We climbed a mountain for you. Activated ancient wind stairs. Stared down a guardian with a personal vendetta against your sister. It was all very dramatic, and we have zero complaints."

"And we'd do it again in a heartbeat," I tell her, and I mean it completely. "Yeah, your awakening got a little out of hand, but we’ll get you back to the healers and you’ll be fine."

"I made a thunderstorm."

"You made a great thunderstorm," Asher says. “Damn impressive for a first attempt. Very cinematic."

Violet laughs despite herself. "It was so powerful."

"Storm magic is," Mica says. “That's not a minor affinity. You’ll be a true force when you know what you're doing."