Rage--A Stormheart Novel

by Cora Carmack

  The other two voices were unfamiliar, the accents foreign too. She tried to match them to some other voice that she had heard once upon a time, wondering if her mind had pulled it from a memory. That had to be the only explanation for why she would be hearing voices from the solid stone wall of her cell.

  It wasn’t as if she had never called out in the middle of the night, hoping that someone outside these four walls would call back. But this … this was too impossible, too good to ever be true.

  But every time she convinced herself to block it out, Aurora’s voice would ring out again, telling her to hold on. It may have been impossible, but … she didn’t think she had imagined the shaking of the walls. It had showered dust and dirt on her already charred and ruined bed. Again and again, there were frenzied conversations she could not quite understand, followed up by a firm rumble of the wall.

  Maybe it was an earthquake? Some other natural phenomenon, and her traumatized brain was simply weaving imaginary tales to keep her from falling apart. She had always been a girl divided. Her mind was too easily ensnared by worry and guilt and fear—so much so that it betrayed her too often for her to ever trust it. And since her magic had manifested when she was a girl, her body had become her enemy as well. Realistically, she had known those divisions would tear her down eventually. She supposed imprisonment was bound to speed that along.

  “Nova? Nova! Can you hear me?”

  She almost did not reply. It could not be real. It would hurt too much if she believed, and it wasn’t.

  “Oh goddess, what if she’s unconscious? Nova?”

  “I-I’m here,” she returned, already regretting it.

  “Thank the skies,” the Aurora voice said back. “Listen, we can’t get through the wall.”

  And there it was, Nova thought, the beginning of the delusion. This wasn’t a rescue, it was a siege. These voices would take up camp in her head, and she would lose what little control she still had left.

  “But we’re coming underneath it, so you need to move back.”

  Nova blinked, uncomprehending.

  “Did you hear me? Move back from the wall.”

  “I hear you,” Nova called back. She was already pressed against the far wall, since the bed had been burned beyond use during one of the prince’s questionings.

  She waited and waited. There were no more voices. No more shaking walls or showers of dust. But after a moment, she began to feel something strange—a tingling warmth in the atmosphere around her. Suddenly she no longer felt tired, and the flame that always churned beneath her skin was crackling hot and right at the surface.

  The dirt floor of her cell began to vibrate so gently it was almost a hum. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, a hole began to open up in the middle of her floor, revealing a staircase carved from earth, and the face of an unfamiliar woman. Her face was all brazen angles surrounding wide-set brown eyes. Her hair was shorn on one side, but long on the other, and she wore leather battle gear.

  She was … magnificent. All of it was, which only made Nova pinch her arm as if to clear a dream. But the vision didn’t disappear, it expanded. From behind the mystery warrior woman, a blond head appeared and Nova gasped, her eyes immediately filling with tears before she could even catch sight of Aurora’s face. But that hair. No one had that color hair but Aurora Pavan.

  “I hear you are long past due for a rescue.” The words came from the woman in front, and they only made Nova cry harder.

  “This is terribly rude, but I am going to have to ask you to save that crying for when I’m not holding up an entire wall with my magic. Think you can slide forward for me? Once you reach the steps, you can move past me to Aurora, and we’ll get you out of here as fast as possible.”

  Somehow, Nova listened. She stifled her tears, and scooted herself across the floor to the opening that had not been there a few moments ago. A part of her was waiting to find it all an illusion still, but as she drew nearer, her foot went into the hole and landed firmly on the top step.

  “Good. Keep coming.”

  Her legs shook like a newborn colt’s, but Nova pushed herself up enough to walk the rest instead of slide. That tingling warmth from earlier surrounded her as soon as she entered the tunnel, and when the flame inside her answered again, Nova remembered the woman’s last words.

  Holding a wall up with magic.

  No storm magic she had ever heard of could do that, which meant that this, that the warrior woman had … earth magic?

  The next thing Nova knew, she had been seized in a tight grip, pulled hard into a hug that was the closest contact she had had in months. She froze, scrunching up her face and preparing to lock down her magic with all her might, but … the need never rose. It was there, present and close to the surface, but it didn’t ache to be free the way it did when others touched her. After a few long moments to be certain, Nova lifted her arms and returned Aurora’s hug, relieved to finally know her best friend was alive.

  That was when all hell broke loose.

  Nova pulled back with a gasp as something between her and Aurora became sizzling hot, even by her standards.

  Aurora’s familiar face contorted with an emotion she didn’t know—terror, pain, or something worse. Her friend let out a low agonized groan, and at the same time the entire world seemed to shake, the passageway around them raining down dirt and rocks. The soft touch of Aurora’s hands on Nova’s arms became tighter and tighter, nails digging in until Nova could feel the skin break.

  It was like something out of a nightmare, worse because not even Nova’s traitorous mind could ever dream up something this cruel. She yelped and squirmed, trying to get free from her friend’s grasp, but the hold was too tight.

  Storm sirens blared outside, but Nova would have known a storm approached from the howl of the wind alone; it sounded like a monster. As if in reaction to the building storm, Aurora’s grip grew painfully fierce. In Nova’s panic, a burst of flame rose up inside, ready to rescue her, and Nova cried out louder in response, not sure how long she would be able to hold her instincts back.

  A girl she had not seen before with short curly hair and dark skin appeared out of nowhere, pressing one hand to each side of Aurora’s head and commanding, “Your shields, Aurora.”

  The princess squeezed her eyes shut, and breathed, “I’m trying.”

  The other girl continued, “Separate your soul. Now. You know what is you, and what is not. Separate. Make space. And enforce your shields.”

  Nova had no idea what was happening, but after a few moments, Aurora’s grip did ease enough that Nova could break away. The warrior woman was there to catch her as soon as she stumbled back.

  “Easy, there. Breathe.” Nova tried to do what she was saying, but her anxiety was in control now. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears, her skin clammy, and her vision blotted with dark spots. “You are safe. I promise. I promise.”

  Other words were said, but Novaya did not hear them. Her eyes were fixed on her best friend, watching the look of fury fade from her eyes and confusion and shame take its place. Goddess, she knew that look. She had worn it so many times herself.

  Aurora met her eyes and said, “I’m sorry.” But Nova could only read the words on her lips because the sound was lost to another rumbling crash as the entire palace shook again.

  Aurora stood, somehow still regal despite the dirt and dread that covered her. “It’s the Stormlord. He’s attacking the palace. We need to get out before it’s too late.”

  It was not until Nova felt a gentle push at her back, urging her forward, that she realized the warrior had been touching her this entire time, and not once had her magic risen in response.

  * * *

  Skies, they were lucky. Kiran and the rest of the infiltration crew hadn’t met resistance until they had been almost completely out of the palace, and even then they’d had the numbers. The fighting had been minimal, just long enough to gain the advantageous position, then Kiran lobbed another j
ar of fog magic, and they made a run for it.

  The palace gate was closed, but they were prepared for that. They no longer needed stealth, only speed. So they hurled a grappling hook over the wall and made quick work climbing over and lifting up their cargo.

  The fog they’d left to consume the palace entrance bought them time. Anyone who came that way to look for them would be ensnared for some time. But the sooner they disappeared, the better. Zephyr had been the first over, and her lieutenant, Raquim, was to be the last. When only he, Kiran, and Ransom remained, they were caught off guard by the sudden approach of a figure at full sprint.

  Raquim was quick to pull his weapon, but Ransom waved him off.

  “He is one of ours.”

  It was Bait who approached, winded and with his red hair plastered to his face by sweat or rain. He’d been assigned as lookout, and should have already been on the other side of the wall by now.

  “What is it?” Kiran asked.

  Bait winced, and looked at Ransom instead when he answered.

  “After you lot left, Sly noticed something.”

  “Noticed what?” Kiran asked.

  Again, Bait kept his eyes fixed on Ransom, avoiding Kiran. “Jinx and Roar did not return to headquarters after they completed their part. Instead, they entered the palace grounds.”

  “They did what?” Kiran growled.

  “Sly followed them,” Bait rushed to reply. “To make sure they did not run into any harm, but, uh, she still has not returned. None of them have.”

  Kiran’s vision tunneled until he could see little more than the worried and fearful expression on the novie’s face. His world was so narrowed, his mind so focused on the idea of Aurora and Jinx and Sly, and all the things that could have befallen them, that he did not notice when the air changed, when the pressure dropped, and the world went quiet.

  It wasn’t until everything burst wide open into color and light and pain that his hunter instincts kicked in and he realized what was happening.

  A hole had torn open in the sky and flame rained down in enormous torrents, changing everything in an instant. The first ember hit his forearm, burning through several layers of skin before he batted it away, earning another scorching wound on his hand. The next skated by his face, searing his cheek on its way down.

  He could not seem to think in the right order. He should do something about the storm, about the immediate threat, but his mind was caught up over the threat to Aurora. Ransom had to pull the firestorm powder from his utility belt for him and hold it directly in front of his face before Kiran even began to think rationally. He pulled the cork and emptied the powder on his tongue, trying not to think of how many of their resources they had depleted in this one mission alone. That was far from the most important thing right now. The next ember that hit him hurt, but didn’t burn, and that sharpened his focus.

  He looked to his left to see that Raquim was already gone, the rope too. No matter; there was no way Kiran was leaving without the rest of his crew.

  “Where did they go?”

  They followed Bait at a sprint to the vine that Jinx had grown up to the queen’s balcony, but it had already burned down to ash in the ensuing firestorm. Parts of the palace were burning too, and no one seemed to be doing anything to fight the storm.

  Kiran thought of the fog storms they’d left scattered around the palace. They might have grown by now to fill even more space, incapacitating even more people. What if they had unknowingly left the palace, and the entire city of Pavan, vulnerable to attack?

  That, he knew, was something for which Aurora would never forgive him. So even though it went against his every instinct, even though it physically hurt him not to go after her, he turned and faced the sky instead.

  “New plan,” he declared. “We deal with this, then we find our girls.”

  Kiran was the only one among them with a firestorm heart, so he pulled that from his belt. But the other two had their own ways of helping.

  “I’ll work on the flames,” Ransom said, pulling a jar of rainstorm magic from his belt. Kiran noticed that Ransom too was looking low on supplies.

  Bait pulled his lone Stormheart from his belt and said, “Distraction duty. I’m on it.”

  Ransom and Bait timed their actions perfectly so that the appearance of the thunderstorm from Ransom’s jar might be confused for the Stormheart Bait was infusing with his magic, tricking the storm into thinking another real tempest was in its midst. The first downpour met the flames with a loud sizzle, smoke filling the sky until it was hard to tell what was storm and what was smoke.

  Kiran chose that moment to attack, pushing his energy through the Stormheart he held and at the churning, rotating beast overhead. He managed to break up the formation, catching it by surprise, but then an awful howling sound came on the wind, and the rotation snapped right back, faster this time, pushing lower to the ground, closer to the palace.

  The wind changed again, this time at his back; he felt a sharp updraft, matched by the rising heat from the flames, and his ears filled with a loud, guttural rumble that shook the ground beneath his feet. He looked up and backward just in time to see a funnel cloud dipping lower and lower before tearing a chunk away from the side of the famed golden-domed roof of the palace.

  Bleeding skies. This was it. This wasn’t just a single storm. This was one of the onslaughts of multiple tempests that could not be natural. It was happening. The Stormlord was coming for Pavan, and too many people he cared about were still inside.

  * * *

  Four women from different worlds crawled out of the secret tunnel, and Aurora breathed out in relief to finally be on the ground floor. The tunnel had shook and shifted around them every step of the way, and though none of them had ever spoken a word, she knew they all had feared its eventual collapse.

  Now that they stood in the light, Aurora could not keep her eyes off Nova. Her friend had lost weight; her once-round cheeks had unnatural hollows in the middle, matched by sunken skin beneath her eyes. Her steps remained unsteady, even once they stood on flat ground.

  Captivity’s mark was clear on her, and Aurora wanted to reach out in comfort, in aid, but she couldn’t. Not after what she had let happen down in the tunnel. Not with the way another soul was trailing her own at the moment, as if waiting for a momentary lapse in her strength.

  It should not worry her that no barrier had been thrown up to guard against the storm yet. What did she care for Cassius Locke? She meant to bring him to justice in the end. But time and again over the last week, no matter how many times a storm broke through, it had never been long before she felt his icy barriers go up, before his fighting gave her a much-needed reprieve.

  But there was no barrier now. Nothing to stop whatever storm this violent soul controlled, and she feared what they would find if, no, when they made it outside the palace. They hastily crossed through the Hall of the Ancestors and the servant’s hall, but when they swung the next door open, Jinx slammed the door before the thick cloud on the other side could leech inside.

  “Fog,” Sly was the first to supply. They all knew it was part of the infiltration’s plan. But none of them had the supplies to walk through it unharmed, as they were all supposed to be out of harm’s way.

  Aurora did not have time for this. They still had to get back to her mother. This task had seemed so … well, not simple, but direct when they had begun. But the problems just kept unspooling further and further until she lost all sense of the thread.

  She had to stay focused. She said, “We either need to find a way to neutralize the fog, or we need an alternate route.” The fog outside the door was collected magic, and thus had no soul for her to influence. She turned to her fellow hunters. “Either of you happen to have any fog Stormheart on you?” They both shook their heads.

  Sly reached for something on her belt and slid it free. She held out her palm, revealing a gray cylindrical stone.

  “Wind?” Aurora asked.

  “If we can
’t negate it, we move it,” Sly said.

  “And do you have wind magic on hand?”

  “No, but you do.”

  Aurora’s eyes skipped to Nova, who looked too exhausted to have caught the hunter’s meaning. And even if she had, Aurora could hardly insist on holding back secrets from her friend, not after all she had been through. If there was a way her abilities could get them through this, she would do it.

  She held out a hand, and Sly slapped the Stormheart against her palm. As always, she did not feel the call other Stormlings felt. She could sense no connection to the defeated storm it came from, nor would it enable her to channel the natural magic that other Stormlings manifested as children. Those gifts had never come for her. But she knew now that did not mean she could not utilize it for magic of a different kind.

  She took a deep breath. Then another. She looked to Jinx and Sly and said, “I have to lower my shields. I’ll do my best to keep the tempest at bay, but if it should take me—”

  “I have a little powdered Rezna’s rest left if you go full assassin on us.” Jinx shrugged nonchalantly, as if having to incapacitate a friend was simply part of her normal day. “But try not to go full Rage Roar. We’ve already got one unconscious body to carry; two would make things very difficult.”

  “I will do my best.”

  Sly opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it and simply nodded.

  “What’s happening?” Nova asked.

  “The way out is blocked, but I’m going to try something. It … I might have a reaction like I did before, when I squeezed your arms. I’m sorry for that, by the way. I promise, I will explain everything later when there is time.”

  Aurora hated the fearful expression on her friend’s face, but Nova nodded all the same, loyal despite her misgivings.