Storm Princess 2: The Princess Must Strike

by Everly Frost

  Jasper eyes Llion with a look of distrust before acknowledging the thanks with a quick nod of his own.

  Llion returns to the cradle as his daughter wakes, carefully drawing her into the crook of his other arm. Without a word, he passes her to Talia. She brightens, whispering to the baby, “Beautiful girl.”

  The little girl wraps her hand around Talia’s golden hair, tugging and gurgling.

  Talia asks, “How did you get your children out?”

  “After my wife was killed, Cassian was supposed to kill me too, but he said I should live with my pain… He threw me in prison instead.” Llion snarls, “He should have put more guards on my cell. I got out, rescued my children from the orphanage, and crawled through mud and tunnels with them strapped to my back. I stayed underground, crept through the trees, hid in rocky crevices. I stole goat’s milk to feed them.”

  “I’m sorry I called you a monster. Please, tell me your wife’s name so I can pray for her soul.”

  “Liliana.” He whispers his wife’s name like it’s remembered honey on his tongue. “Her name was Lightsworn Liliana.”

  Talia jolts. “The Lightsworn Clan is nobility. Second only to the Supreme Incorruptible. Yet you…”

  A smile ghosts across Llion’s face. “You don’t believe me. Don’t worry, it took me a long time to believe it myself. That she could love someone like me…”

  “You don’t wear the Lightsworn mark next to your own mark like it’s customary for married couples to do.”

  “We married in secret.” His smile fades. “It led to her end.”

  Talia remains very still. The only change is the deep crease that appears between her eyes. “What did she look like?”

  His face lights up. “She had chestnut hair and eyes the color of new leaves: pale, delicate. Her wings had golden spirals—”

  “Like the branches of a tree?”

  He casts a sharp glance at her. “You met my wife while she was alive?”

  “Yes. I met her. At Howl’s Palace.” Her eyes are wide pools. “She was there when I escaped.”

  Llion is as lifeless as the rock he resembles. “No… that’s… not possible…”

  “I promise you I’m not lying—”

  “Howl ran her through. He killed her because she defied him. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “You were deceived. She’s alive.” Talia tries to take his hand but he steps away from her. “I would never trick you, Llion. You have to believe me when I tell you I met her. Howl called her by her name: Lightsworn Liliana. She was there with him. He…” Her lips press together for a moment. “He…”

  Llion advances on her, staring into her eyes. Across the room, I hold my breath. Instinctively, I reach for Jasper, anchoring my gloved hand on his forearm. All I see in Llion’s face is the same desperation I felt when I found out Baelen wasn’t dead. The same shattering of my heart because hope feels the same as agony when you can’t believe it’s true, when you’re so afraid it will slip through your fingers.

  “He what, Priestess? What did he do?”

  “He will force her to marry him.”

  Llion’s expression doesn’t change.

  Talia rushes on, “She’s the highest ranking female. He was gloating because he’d captured me and he believed the High Priestess would be next. He said that once he was marked Supreme Incorruptible, he would take Liliana as his Queen.”

  Still, Llion hasn’t moved. “What will he do now that you’ve escaped and he doesn’t have his mark?”

  She doesn’t answer. The silence stretches on for so long that I stare wide-eyed between the two of them.

  Finally, Llion swings away from her. “Tell me one thing, Sunflight Talia, High Priestess: when did you learn how to hold a child properly?”

  Her voice is small. “The Priestesses have hidden themselves in orphanages across the country for many years, pretending to be matrons. I cared for the children at one of them.”

  “Then you know what I have to do.”

  Talia strokes the wisps of chestnut hair across the little girl’s head, smiling down into the baby’s eyes. “I do. And I thank you for allowing me to take refuge in your home. You never have to fear for your children’s safety. I will protect them.”

  As she speaks, she runs her hand over the little girl’s arms and back, creating a warm glow beneath her palm. The baby girl sighs and Talia says, “Nothing will harm them.”

  Llion kisses the top of his son’s head and hands him over to Talia who deftly juggles the boy onto her other hip.

  I exchange glances with Jasper, not knowing what to expect next as Llion strides over to us.

  “Lady Storm,” he says. “I’m coming with you.”

  I stare back at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Phoenix was flying due west. You were about to cross the border. I’m coming with you.”

  My jaw drops. I meet Jasper’s startled eyes. Even the Storm freezes in shock beside us.

  “You can use my help. And my weapons,” he says. “I have to collect some supplies, but I won’t hold you up.”

  Jasper recovers faster than I do. “We have to collect supplies too. We’ll meet you at the top of the next peak. But please don’t be long.”

  He stands, gives Llion a nod, and ushers me away from the cave. I’m too stunned to object. I stare at Jasper as we exit into bright sunlight. “What just happened?”

  Jasper scans the sky and I’m glad he’s looking for threats because right now, my head is buzzing from the fact that he agreed to take Llion along so quickly.

  “We saved a Priestess, stopped an evil fake King from getting the mark of superiority, and made a gargoyle ally who has weapons that can take down his own kin.”

  “And we haven’t even crossed the border.”

  Jasper cocks an eyebrow at me in a rare show of humor. “That pretty much sums it up.”

  5

  I call for the Phoenix immediately, anxious to see that Baelen is okay. The bird can’t land on this spot—the gargoyle deliberately chose a place that’s hard to access—so Jasper and I have to leap off a nearby rocky outcrop onto its back.

  Once we’re safely seated, I slide up to cradle Baelen’s head in my lap again, quietly checking him over to make sure he’s okay. I don’t dare rest my forehead against his after what happened earlier with our power joining, but I allow myself a moment to breathe normally.

  He’s unharmed, the Phoenix chimes.

  I speak aloud so Jasper can hear me. “Thank you, my friend. Can you carry us further through the mountains? Jasper knows a place we need to go.”

  Don’t worry, Princess, the Phoenix says. The sun is high in the sky now and I’ll keep it behind me until we land. If there are any gargoyles nearby, they won’t see us.

  As much as I trust the Phoenix to keep us safe, my heart remains in my throat until we touch down on a wide platform ten minutes later. A cliff forms a sheer drop at one side with a deep cave on the other. A path stretches along the side of the cave, hewn between rock surfaces.

  The platform is wide enough to accommodate the Phoenix even with its wings fully spread, making it the perfect landing spot. I give Jasper a nod of appreciation as he slides from the bird’s back.

  Jasper promised there are supplies here and I want nothing more than to wash my face and hands. But the problem of getting into gargoyle country plagues me—even with Llion on our side. There has to be a better way than trekking across a hundred miles of mountains…

  The Storm alights behind us, her delicate feet a caramel shade against the dark slate. The mountain range stretches in every direction. We’re so deep inside it now that Rath land is a distant memory.

  Be careful, Princess, the Phoenix warns. We may as well be in gargoyle territory already. I will alert you, but stay on your guard.

  I will. I rest Baelen’s head gently against the bird’s back and slip to the ground, stretching out my legs, not realizing until now how sore I am from everything that’s happe
ned. My muscles scream at me for rest as Jasper disappears briefly inside the cave.

  He reappears with a cloth in his hand. As he closes the gap between us, I eye him warily. It’s taking me time to get used the idea that someone can touch me and that I won’t hurt them when they do.

  He stops before he reaches me. “Princess, if I may? Your cheek is bleeding.”

  My hand shoots to the sting blooming across my cheek.

  Jasper gently brushes the damp cloth across the wound, taking care to touch me only with the material and not skin on skin, handing over the cloth so I can press it to my cheek myself.

  “Thank you, Jasper. And please, I don’t think you should call me ‘Princess’ once we cross the border.”

  He doesn’t miss a beat. He was one of the first elves to call me by my first name during the trials and it’s surprised me that he’s started calling me Princess again now.

  “Okay, Marbella.” My name rolls off his tongue without hesitation as he assesses my wound and finally gives a satisfied nod. “I’ll head into the cave first and get changed. That way I can prepare our packs while you’re washing up.”

  “Yes, thank you.” I sigh as he walks away. I spend a lot of my time thanking this male for his care of me.

  As he strides away, he pulls his armor off, dropping it at the cave’s entrance with soft clangs, one piece at a time. His armor is standard military issue and so is the shirt under it, made of sturdy twill. Not the most comfortable of garments but Jasper is never one to complain.

  Surprisingly uninhibited, he pulls the shirt off too and drops it in the growing pile. His back is broad, muscled but lean, as he stretches out his neck and back. Without the heavy armor, he moves again with stealth, prowling into the cave without realizing his near-nakedness has caused a bit of a stir out here on the platform…

  “He is not an ordinary elf.” The Storm sidles up to me. Her eyes are bright with curiosity as she peers after Jasper, her wings cast forward in his direction.

  I smile. “Jasper Grace is definitely one of a kind.”

  “He acts like your protective older brother even though he isn’t.”

  I shrug. “He’s loyal to Baelen, which means he’s loyal to me too I guess.”

  “It’s more than loyalty. He cares about you.” She frowns, her eyes narrowing, still peering at the space he left behind. “But he doesn’t lust after you.”

  I choke a little. It’s true that Jasper has had at least one opportunity to see me naked and hasn’t taken it. I swallow a laugh. “You know… It is possible to care for someone and not—ahem—lust after them.”

  Her expression is suddenly dark. Clouds fall over the space she occupies as she draws more and more of the dark substance to herself like a physical shield. “That is not what I know of elves.”

  She turns away before I can figure out how to interpret her comment, but I’m not about to let her get away. With Jasper out of earshot, there are things I need to know.

  Baelen rests on the Phoenix’s back. He looks peaceful, and the giant bird doesn’t seem anxious to have the burden of his body removed. In fact, it looks tranquil as it rests down on the ledge, keeping watch on the skies around us, the glacial white clouds floating through the crisp blue. It occurs to me that if Baelen has the Storm’s power too, then the Phoenix will have the same affinity with him as it does with me.

  Finding comfort in that thought, I chase after the Storm to the edge of the cliff. She floats just beyond the sharp drop with her back to me as if she’s trying to make herself unreachable. She’s physically connected to me so I know she can’t go far unless I let her, but the slump in her shoulders tells me she would rather be curled up in a dark place right now than face the midday sunlight pouring over the platform. I’m suddenly reminded that she’s a gargoyle. Her favorite place would be a quiet nest lit only by silvery threads of Elyria spider webs.

  “Storm, please come back. I need you to show me how to move Baelen and keep him safe.”

  She swings back to me. She looks like she’s about to shoot a retort at me but then she switches gears, swiveling to Baelen. Whenever she looks at him her eyes fill with sadness and it makes me wonder if she feels pain for him. She isn’t tied to him the same way she’s tied to me: if we were a chain, I would be the link in the middle. But he carries her power too and that must connect them on some level.

  She sighs. “Yes, of course. Come with me.”

  By the time she reaches Baelen and the Phoenix, the Storm has left her melancholy mood behind and taken on the role of a bossy teacher. “You think you need metal to harness the lightning, but you don’t—”

  “I don’t?”

  She drops the bossy persona for a moment. “You really don’t. You locked the power up inside yourself because you were afraid of it. Now you need to unlock it.” She clamps her hand over my forearm. It feels strange when she touches me; my brain tells me she’s there, that she’s holding my arm right now, but it feels like a breeze, soft, gentle, and somehow transparent.

  “Close your eyes,” she orders.

  I do as she asks, reluctant to let Baelen out of my sight even though I know he’s right in front of me and the Phoenix won’t let anything happen to him.

  She says, “You are connected to Baelen body and soul. Listen for his heartbeat. It will help you. Don’t follow it like you did before. Just listen.”

  His heartbeat. It’s the easiest thing for me to hear. So easy I’m scared I’m mistaking it for my own. The rhythm sweeps me up, melding with the warmth of the sun on my shoulders, the light breeze across my hair, and the pressure of the Storm’s fingers on my arm.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” she whispers. “But when you hear his heart thud… don’t just hear the sound… feel it like a burst of light inside you…”

  A spark lights the darkness behind my eyes. The rhythm of his heart takes on a visual aspect, echoing in my ears and igniting in front of me like water droplets splashing upward.

  “Each beat is a burst of light,” she says. “Now catch one of them and hold it… and imagine it stretching out thin. You want it to stretch beyond you… all the way over to Baelen where it can curl around him and lift him from the Phoenix’s back.”

  I keep my eyes closed and exhale slowly, feeling calmer than I thought I would practicing this new skill. A thin thread of blue lightning pulses out inside my mind. Baelen’s outline grows clear, a rainbow of colors forming his shape while the Phoenix’s silhouette glows beneath him.

  The lightning thread I’ve sent out splits into many delicate ropes of light that seep under Baelen’s body and curl up and over him, winding around his torso and legs. Then each thread splits again, as many times as it takes to form a webbed lattice supporting his head and back, arms and legs.

  In my mind, the webbing lifts him from the Phoenix’s back and supports him all the way to the ground. It’s wrapped securely enough around him to hold him upright. The image is so clear, so brilliant with light that he could be standing in front of me. He could be awake right now.

  My eyes burn and a tear escapes down my cheek. He and I had stood together on a cliff like this one, all wrapped up in each other seven years ago. I would give anything for him to be awake right now. I swallow my sadness, still keeping my eyes closed.

  I say, “I think I’m ready to try moving him now.”

  The Storm’s laughter is soft, but further away than I thought she would be. “Open your eyes, Marbella.”

  Her hand is no longer on my arm. My line of sight travels from where I expected her to be to where she actually is—several paces away—and then to what’s in front of me.

  Baelen hovers there, his feet an inch above the ground. He appears in the way he would want to be, the way I always picture him—tall, shoulders back, head up, but maybe just a little bit tilted toward me. He looks strong, but when I reach out to him, I worry about how vulnerable he is.

  “He needs a shield,” I say. “A defense. Anyone can attack him like this. An arr
ow, a sword… worse, gargoyle wing daggers could kill him while he can’t fight back. It’s lucky they didn’t already.”

  The Storm floats over to me, grinning. “You already gave him a shield.” She circles behind me, a crafty glow in her eyes. “Why don’t we see whether it works?”

  She points a finger at a loose pebble, causing it to rise off the ground on its own. Before I can stop her, she flicks her finger toward Baelen and the pebble shoots right at him.

  I swallow a shout as the pebble collides with the space in front of his shoulder. It pops, sizzles, and disintegrates without touching him. A fine shower of dust wafts away in the breeze.

  I round on her. “That was reckless!”

  “Not at all. I knew he’d be fine. You would have known too if you used your Storm eyes to see what’s right in front of you.”

  “My Storm eyes?”

  She shakes her head at me. “Close your eyes and remember what you saw. Then open them and remember what you see.”

  I scowl at her. “I hate riddles.”

  “I don’t know how else to describe it.” She shrugs before she wafts away to the other side of the platform and presents me with her back, clearly deciding that her work is done.

  I close my eyes and reach for Baelen’s heartbeat again. His silhouette bursts into flame so fast that it takes my breath away. He glows in front of me, a powerful presence consuming every thought inside my mind. Now I can see that my lattice of blue lightning covers every part of him.

  Well, what do you know? I did give him a shield.

  I allow myself a moment of relief before I open my eyes as slowly as I can, trying to hold on to the image.

  Remember what you see, Marbella.

  I focus on his closed eyes, his dark eyelashes, adjusting my focus away from the surface of his face to a little beyond it. I catch the barest glint of lightning before the sunlight obscures it.

  Determined not to be distracted, I shift slightly to the left, sighting along the surface of his high cheekbones and down to his lips, focusing on the curves at the top and bottom. The faintest glint of light glistens at the corner of his mouth, but it’s not blue like my lightning. It’s red like his.