by Everly Frost
“I like to dress her up,” Howl says, pushing me into the room. “You don’t need to fear anything from my little doll. She’s learned to be compliant.”
Howl’s condescending attitude slams my spinning world to a complete stop. The one thing this bastard is good at, is making me focus. I fight the urge to smash his nose in and show everyone just how compliant I am. Strategically it’s better if the elves believe him. The less they fear me, the more complacent they will become.
I recognize some of the elves in the entourage. One in particular, I don’t count as an enemy.
As the Elven Commanders move aside for Howl, Eli Elder steps directly into Howl’s path. Maybe he doesn’t realize he’s in Howl’s way. Or… maybe he does.
He bows his head to me. “Storm Princess,” he says, reverting to the customary way to greet me. “Are you well?”
“I am well, thank you Eli of the House of Elder.”
“I’m glad to see it.” His eyes are crystal blue, not quite as brilliant as Cassian’s but just as intelligent. He’s lean, tall, an elegant fighter. I saved his life once—and he saved mine. He steps aside before Howl has a chance to get really annoyed, bowing to the King, although he hides a quick glance in my direction. I have to find a way to speak with him. He could have information about what happened to my family, my advisor Elise, and the females in my Storm Command.
I definitely don’t think it was Howl’s intention to give me hope, but for the first time I can see a lifeline back to Erawind, even if it’s only in the form of information.
One other person waits at the far end of the table. The former High Priestess isn’t dressed anywhere near as elaborately as I am. A simple, but elegant robe covers her frame and she waits quietly for Howl’s order to sit.
He takes the seat at the head of the table with the High Priestess opposite me on his left. Elwyn Elder sits beside me and Pedr Bounty is next to the High Priestess. It forces them to lean across us to speak to Howl and I suspect he takes perverse delight in making them uncomfortable. The advisors are next, followed by their entourage. Eli ends up much further down the table and Cassian takes up position standing guard in the space behind Howl and me.
As lunch progresses, the steady stream of food and alcohol is nauseating. I don’t touch my drink and I pick through the food. After a month of eating gruel, most of it is too rich for my stomach and will only make me sick.
After what seems like the third dessert, Howl waves Cassian forward. “Take the Priestess and make sure our guests enjoy dancing in the next room. I have business to discuss with the Elven Commanders.”
I scoot my chair backward, ready to follow Cassian and the others, but Howl’s palm slams onto my arm. “Not you, little doll.”
He curls his fingers around my forearm and I flinch and try to hide the pain as he squeezes until I drag my chair awkwardly back into place.
“I apologize, King Howl. You gave me a party dress. I was confused.”
The door closes and I’m suddenly alone with Howl and the Elven Commanders.
“You see,” Howl says to Elwyn and Pedr. “She just needed to be tamed.”
Pedr leans back in his chair, appearing relaxed. “We thought we would be celebrating your wedding by now, Howl.”
A growl replaces Howl’s smirk. “It turned out that my chosen bride wasn’t a widow after all.”
He’s still gripping my arm and the topic of conversation hasn’t relaxed him. My skin burns and my eyes water.
“You’re hurting her,” Pedr says, but it’s a statement of fact. There’s nothing in his tone that suggests Howl should stop.
“The Princess has learned that I can hurt her whenever I want.” He continues gripping my arm as he angles toward a door on the opposite side of the room. It’s not the one the guests left by, but is smaller and narrower. The heartstones resting on Howl’s chest flicker for a moment as he uses his power to open the door without moving.
A large golden object floats out through it, at first appearing flat, but as the full object emerges, it becomes a golden cage, tipped on its side like a coffin.
It’s Baelen’s cage. As it comes to a stop where I have a full view of it, Baelen floats inside the cage, suspended and completely still.
But there’s something wrong about this picture: where is the Storm? The last time I saw her, she couldn’t move beyond a hundred paces of him. I search for her in the shadows of the door Baelen came from. It’s close enough that she could be hiding there. A puddle of silver is all I can see. It could be her or it might be a trick of the light.
The Elven Commanders jump to their feet, but not in fear. Eagerness to see Howl’s prisoner is written all over their greedy faces.
“Yes, yes,” Howl says. “But don’t get too close to him. The bars are there for your protection.”
When they’re done peering at Baelen, Howl calls them back. “We need to talk about our deal.”
More somber, Elwyn and Pedr settle back into their seats.
Howl finally lets go of my arm and feeling returns to my fingertips, the sudden rush of blood a different painful sensation. He’s left a conspicuous red mark all around my skin.
He rubs his chin. “Our deal,” he says. “As you well know, I killed Rordan Rath and you were supposed to kill the gargoyles that escaped my lands.”
I close my eyes as I digest this new knowledge. Baelen’s father died a year ago. I didn’t have a chance to speak to Baelen about it and the details of his father’s death were always kept from me. All I was told was that he’d died carrying out his duties.
Elwyn becomes defensive. “His son returned and got in our way.”
“Well, as you can see, his son is no longer a problem.”
Elwyn smiles. “Then you’ll be happy to know that we recommenced our eradication efforts.”
The gargoyles on the border? Dead?
“There aren’t any gargoyles left on our side of the border, so you have nothing to worry about.”
Howl’s fist hits the table. “There are! There is a female, little, with golden hair. She has a mark on her hip depicting the sun rising over the mountains. I want her back.”
He’s talking about the High Priestess Talia—the new High Priestess who is hidden in the mountains with Llion’s children.
“Our intelligence tells us—”
“I don’t care what your intelligence tells you. She’s there. I want her brought to me.” The heartstones begin to glow again. “Or we will have a problem.”
Elwyn isn’t as worried as I thought he would be. The air crackles around him, his form shimmering at the edges, a force bleeding into the air where he sits. It’s sorcery. It has to be.
The Elven Commander I killed, Gideon Glory, was infected by sorcery, the same evil magic that the last Elven King dabbled in. When I left Erawind, only Gideon Glory appeared to be infected but now both Elwyn and Pedr openly stink of it. It makes my skin crawl even more than Howl’s power. Howl’s power comes from heartstones, but sorcery derives its power from death.
Howl exhales, relaxes, bringing the tension in the room down a few notches. He says, “You will continue to look for her.”
“Of course.”
“Then let’s talk about the future. What do you want?”
Elwyn flicks his head at me. “Her. Dead.” Then at Baelen. “Him too.”
Howl taps his fingers together. “That’s a big ask. I’ve grown rather fond of her.” He tangles his fingers into my hair, gripping the back of my neck. “What if I offer you an alternative?”
“I guess we will consider it.”
“Baelen Rath buried deep in the heart of Mount Lightsworn. My miners have retrieved the heartstone from that mountain and there is now a deep tunnel that will be collapsed in a week. I can bury him under a mountain of rock.”
“Very well. What about her?”
“I will marry her.”
What?
The Elven Commanders scoff. “That doesn’t address our problem. What abo
ut her power?”
“It’s gone.”
Their raised eyebrows say they don’t believe him. “Prove it.”
“Show them, little doll. Show them what you can’t do.”
I’m still stuck on his announcement that he’s going to marry me. His demand only filters through when he repeats it. Show them I don’t have my power? How can I show them something I don’t have?
Howl launches upward but instead of grabbing me, he strides to the door. Music and voices wash into the room as the door opens and closes again. He drags one of the female slaves back with him. Five strides into the room, his hands close around her throat. She chokes, tries to scream.
“One twist and I’ll break her neck. Show them, little doll.”
I leap from my seat. “I can’t show them something I don’t have!”
Tears stream down the female’s face. Howl’s grip closes so tight the sound strangles in her throat and stops. She can’t even whimper.
“Show them!”
I run at him, grabbing his arms, beating at his torso, trying to free her. The elves don’t move, don’t care.
I scream. “Let her go! I don’t have any power!”
His heartstones flicker. A force slams me backward and I tumble across the floor, banging my knees. I slide to a stop, scrabble against the floor, and jump back to my feet, running back at him.
He roars, “Show them!”
The female’s eyes are closing. She has no time.
“Wait!” I cry, sudden clarity piercing my panic. “Give me a knife.” I run to the table, snatching up the leftover cutlery, whirling to the Elven Commanders. “I’ve been sitting here eating with knives and forks and spoons all afternoon and you didn’t notice!”
They actually focus on me for the first time since I entered the room. Until now, their eyes have glanced over me like I am a piece of furniture. For years they wouldn’t let me touch metal because it triggered my power. It took the touch of a dagger for me to discover that I could harness lightning as a powerful force, lighting it up at a single touch.
“No electricity,” Elwyn says, chin drawn back in surprise. “She’s telling the truth.”
“It’s gone.” I grip the spoon in my fist. “King Howl, they believe you. Please let her go.”
The female slides to the floor, choking and spluttering but alive. I run to help her, but Howl’s fist slams into my stomach as I pass by. I double over, gagging, and collapse to my knees, before he drags the female from the room. Sounds stop in the room beyond as he drops her in the doorway. “Get her out of here.”
My hands form fists on the floor. Where is that shred of hope that filled my heart this morning? My whole body swells with anger, drowning my hope, even my sanity. Howl doesn’t bother to wait for someone to help the female. He spins back to us, but as his back turns, I catch a glimpse of massive wings and Cassian’s blazing eyes. He scoops up the injured female, supporting her head, and disappears with her as the door closes.
My tears drop onto the floor.
“If she has no power, why marry her?” Elwyn leans forward on the table, licking his lips. “What’s in it for you?”
Howl scoops one arm under my stomach, carrying me back to my seat like a rag doll. He runs his fingers down my face and neck. “What isn’t?”
“Fine. What do you want in return?”
“I want the Rath and Mercy Heartstones.”
Elwyn and Pedr look at each other. “Why? They’re worthless.”
“Then you won’t mind giving them to me.”
They exchange another quizzical glance, clearly believing they are getting the better end of the deal. “We have an agreement.”
“Good. Now. Let’s go enjoy ourselves.”
He drags me out and deposits me next to the door, waiting for the elves to move along. But instead of going with them, he grabs me again, almost wrenching my arm out of its socket. He hisses into my ear. “If you want your freedom, you will find me Prime’s heart. He was the King’s best friend and with his heart I will have the three most powerful Heartstones. I won’t have to make deals with your weak Elven Commanders. Then you can go free.”
He shoves me against the wall so hard that the impact rattles through my spine. “Stay there until I come back for you.”
Lightsworn’s blue light mingles with Virtuous’s moss-colored glow as Howl strides away, the two heartstones a powerful reminder that Howl is invincible.
The crowd of dancing elves and gargoyles parts for him. Several of the females follow him to the dais at the other side of the room where plush couches await, along with drinks and food. I catch sight of Gilda and Carmen. I’m relieved that they’re okay, but every moment they spend near Howl is a dangerous one. Like the other females, they maintain blank faces. They are a commodity. I want to snatch all of them and fight our way free of this place. I would feel better if Cassian was nearby but I’m glad he’s helping the hurt female.
As instructed, I remain glued to the wall, unmoving. There are too many females in this room that Howl can hurt if I disobey him. But his time will come. His end will come.
“Princess?” Eli’s quiet question is almost smothered by the increasingly loud, alcohol-fuelled laughter around me.
“Princess?”
I finally turn to him. “Eli.”
“You’re hurt.” He doesn’t touch me. The old rule: never touch the Storm Princess. He always respected it.
I ignore the growing bruise on my forearm. My stomach hurts too. The corset bones dug hard into my ribs when Howl punched me.
“I’ll heal.” I chew my lip, knowing I may not get another chance like this to ask about the people I left behind in Erawind. “Eli, can you tell me… how is my family?”
“I have news, but it isn’t good.”
“I can handle it.”
“I believe you. But I want you to be prepared. Your Storm Command has been captured. So has Elise, your advisor. There are two new Elven Commanders. They are both powerful sorcerers, and one of them is… very dangerous. The five Elven Commanders are now completely consumed by sorcery’s evil power.”
My voice wobbles. Definitely not good news. “Jordan too? What about Sebastian and his mother?”
“They were the only ones who escaped. They’re somewhere in the mountains. They haven’t been found.” He keeps his expression blank, giving nothing away. An observer might think we’re discussing the weather. Nobody can know what we’re really talking about. “The Elven Command has sold it to the people as a hunt for you. They have proclaimed that anyone aiding and abetting you is a traitor to the elven race.”
“Because I killed Gideon Glory. They called it murder instead of self-defense.”
“Yes.” He gives me a short nod. “I’ve been doing my best to make sure the prisoners are treated fairly but they’re being kept in very poor conditions.”
“I have to get out of here,” I murmur. “I have to end Howl and I have to get back to Erawind.”
“No.” He breaks the rule. He touches my arm. It’s a reflexive gesture, a worried one. He immediately lets go, regret washing across his face. “I’m sorry, Princess, but you must regain your power first. Otherwise, you will never be able to fight their sorcery. They are powerful and they infect anyone they want.” He glances across the room. His grandfather Elwyn is looking around and it’s probably for him. “I have to go now. Please stay alive and come back strong.”
“I will,” I whisper to his retreating back even though right now, I have no idea how.
23
I’m collapsing against the wall by the time Howl orders dinner to be brought in. It’s impossible to stand up straight for hours on end. But my discomfort only increases when he sits me on his lap throughout the meal, feeding me things I really don’t want to eat—rich saucy meats and sweet syrupy desserts. Each mouthful makes me gag. Who knew I’d crave gruel?
I put up with it for the sake of the females in the room. Howl is like a fire stick that could light up at a
ny moment and I won’t jeopardize their safety. He loses all pretense of treating me civilly by the end of the evening. Ordering the staff to show the guests to their rooms, he grabs me by my hair and drags me down the opposite hallway, my eyes streaming tears of pain as he tugs on a combination of pins and curls. Whatever design my hair was in earlier today, it’s a fallen mess now.
We finally reach our destination, a secluded part of the palace far away from everyone else. Quiet. Scarily alone. The only positive is that there’s nobody here who he can threaten, but as we round the final corner and enter a short hall with a wide window on one side, Cassian straightens at the entrance to the room opposite.
“General,” Howl slurs, waving the door open with his power. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to make sure you don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“Why would I regret taking this sweet piece of—”
“My King? Think about it.”
Howl grumbles. His lip curls in disgust. “Little half-caste heirs running around.” He waves it away. “I don’t care. Fuck my own rules.”
Cassian doesn’t budge. His wings twitch outward, obstructing the door. I eye the window opposite. There’s no way I’m going into that room with Howl. If Cassian doesn’t succeed in blocking him, the window is going to start looking pretty good. My observation of the palace walls when we arrived told me there are ledges everywhere so I shouldn’t have far to jump.
“It’s not about rules,” Cassian continues smoothly. “It’s about your life. Any heir is dangerous. Especially if it’s born with the heartstone’s power running through its veins.”
So that’s what Howl’s really afraid of: passing the power onto an heir. That would explain why he only imprisons wives in his harem, females who have already had children, since gargoyle females have no more than two children in their life.
Howl sways on the spot, dragging me to and fro with him. I’m ready to punch his lights out and hang the consequences. If he swings me around one more time…
He shoves me at Cassian. “Get her back to the mines tomorrow. Stay here on this door tonight. Nobody enters this room. And you…” He topples forward to grab my shoulders one last time, almost shoving me over. “You will bring me Prime’s heart.”