Let the Sky Fall

Book : Sky Fall

by Shannon Messenger

Genres: YA Contemporary; YA Romance

Synopsis

A broken past and a divided future can’t stop the electric connection of two teens in this epic series opener from the author of the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling Keeper of the Lost Cities series. Seventeen-year-old Vane Weston has no idea how he survived the category five tornado that killed his parents. And he has no idea if the beautiful, dark-haired girl who’s swept through his dreams every night since the storm is real. But he hopes she is. Seventeen-year-old Audra is a sylph, an air elemental. She walks on the wind, can translate its alluring songs, and can even coax it into a weapon with a simple string of commands. She’s also a guardian—Vane’s guardian—and has sworn an oath to protect Vane at all costs. Even if it means sacrificing her own life. When a hasty mistake reveals their location to the enemy who murdered both of their families, Audra’s forced to help Vane remember who he is. He has a power to claim—the secret language of the West Wind, which only he can understand. But unlocking his heritage will also unlock the memory Audra needs him to forget. And as the storm bears down on them, she starts to realize the greatest danger might not be the warriors coming to destroy them—but the forbidden romance that’s grown between them.

Release date: March 5, 2013

Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

Print pages: 416

Sample

Let the Sky Fall

CHAPTER 1

VANE

I’m lucky to be alive.

At least, that’s what everybody keeps telling me.

The reporter from the local newspaper even had the nerve to call it a miracle. I was “Vane Weston: The Miracle Child.” Like the police finding me unconscious in a pile of rubble was part of some grand universal plan.

“Family Survives Tornado”—now, that would’ve been a miracle. But trust me, there’s nothing “miraculous” about being orphaned at seven years old.

It’s not that I’m not grateful to be alive. I am. I get that I shouldn’t have survived. But that’s the worst part about being “The Miracle Child.”

The question.

The same inescapable question, plaguing me for the last ten years of my life.

How?

How could I get sucked in by a category-five tornado—nature’s equivalent of a giant blender—get carried over four miles before the massive funnel spit me back out, and only have a few cuts and bruises to show for it? How was that possible, when my parents’ bodies were found almost unrecognizable?

The police don’t know.

Scientists don’t know.

So they all turn to me for the answer.

But I have no freaking idea.

I can’t remember it. That day. My past. Anything.

Well, I can’t remember anything useful.

I remember fear.

I remember wind.

And then . . . a giant, blank space. Like all my memories were knocked out of my head when I hit the ground.

Except one.

One isolated memory—and I’m not even sure if it is a memory, or if it’s some strange hallucination my traumatized brain cooked up.

A face, watching me through the chaos of the storm.

A girl. Dark hair. Darker eyes. A single tear streaks down her cheek. Then a chilly breeze whisks her away.

She’s haunted my dreams ever since.