Storm Princess 2: The Princess Must Strike

by Everly Frost

  He swerves down the corridor, wobbling side to side, too inebriated to walk straight. I don’t stop watching until he’s gone. Even then I stare at the dark space he left behind, waiting for his footsteps to completely retreat.

  When I’m certain Howl’s gone, I round on Cassian, pushing away from him. “How can you serve him?”

  He glares me down. “Do you think I have a choice?”

  “Everyone has a choice! Who does he have imprisoned? Your wife? Sister? Children? Parents?”

  He flinches at each word. “Nobody! I have nobody.” He reins himself in. Takes a deep breath. Stares past my shoulder. He fixates on the other side of the hallway as he says. “Until a month ago, I had nobody, but—”

  I’m too angry to care that he had nobody to love. I’ve been mauled and abused all day and it spills out of me in an angry rush. “Oh, so a month ago you found somebody to care about. To maybe start thinking about whether Howl is any sort of leader you should be following?”

  “Yes.”

  I glare are him, expecting more but that’s all he says. His gaze returns to me, slides from my eyes to my arm. He frowns at the dark bruise circling it and I sense a growing anger in him, but he reins that in too.

  He says, “You should get inside. Rest while you can.”

  “You mean freeze while I can.”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  I close the door in his face. If I freeze like last night, then I’m going to need his help, but right now I’m too angry to accept it. Right now I’m furious at my own powerlessness to help my family and friends. To help Baelen or the Storm. To help the miners or the females stuck in Harem Hell. Right now…

  Right now…

  My eyes shoot wide.

  The room is lit with soft lamps and contains a large bed, a bathroom through another door, a massive mirror on one side and…

  Baelen!

  His cage rests against the far wall, taking up most of the space between the floor and the ceiling and right next to him…

  “Storm!”

  She’s a puddle of silver next to his cage, her head resting on her bent knees, her dress spilling around her, and her silver wings curved around her shoulders.

  I race to her, dropping to my knees. “Storm.”

  She doesn’t lift her head, doesn’t look at me, keeps rocking back and forth. My happiness at seeing her turns to fear. “Storm? Look at me.” When she doesn’t respond, I try her name instead. “Elyria?”

  She lifts her eyes, peering above her knees, unfocussed, glazed. She blinks at me. “Marbella?”

  “It’s me.”

  “Marbella,” she breathes my name, shaking her head, blinking, focusing. “Is it really you? There were other elves. I saw them and I stayed away from them. I stayed as far away as I could.”

  That would explain why she hadn’t come out with Baelen when Howl paraded him before the Elven Commanders earlier today.

  She says, “Every week there are elves. Here. They shouldn’t be here. Not here.” She grabs my hands, squeezing them tightly, tears leaking down her cheeks. “Where’s Jasper? I need him.”

  “He’s back at the mine. But he’s safe.”

  “At least he’s safe.” Her voice trails off. “Please, I can’t be here anymore. I know it’s not my home, not the home I grew up in, but it looks like my home and I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being here. I have to get out. Please, Marbella. Please.”

  “What happened here, Elyria? What happened to make you the Storm?”

  She shuts down, dropping her head to her knees again. “Jasper,” she murmurs. “I need Jasper.”

  She won’t talk to me. She won’t tell me. I sit with her for a long time, careful not to squeeze her broken wing too tight, stroking her hair as she continues to cry softly.

  “It will be okay,” I murmur. “You’ll be okay.”

  Baelen’s cage is exactly the same. He is exactly the same. My greatest fear is that he won’t remain suspended in time and his wounds will progress and I won’t be here to help him. I want to talk to him but I can’t risk drawing him out like before. Just seeing him has to be enough, even if it’s here in this… bedroom…

  I frown back and forth from the bed to Baelen. The sheer perversion of Howl’s mind sends a shudder down my spine. The only one who can move Baelen is Howl, which means he deliberately moved Baelen here in front of this bed where Howl intended to break me. I’ve never actually feared rape. In Erawind, nobody touched me because I could kill them instantly. But here… and if Cassian hadn’t got in the way… maybe I would have made it out the window but maybe I wouldn’t have…

  I hug the Storm tighter. “You were Supreme Incorruptible,” I whisper. “You were the heir to the throne.”

  She draws a shaky breath, head down, her voice muffled against her knees. “I was. But then I died.”

  Her voice trails off. Her breathing deepens. She told me she doesn’t sleep much, but I’m certain she’s fallen asleep by the time I uncurl myself and seek the bathroom nearby. Once I’ve washed off the sensation of Howl’s hands all over me, I debate whether to put the dress back on or wear the simple pajamas that have been provided. In the end, I opt for the pajamas.

  I emerge from the bathroom to the sound of voices out in the hall: Cassian’s and a female voice. I patter across to listen at the door but the sound is too muted to make out what they’re saying. The door opens and I jump back as a soft female voice floats inside. “Very well, if she’s asleep, I won’t wake her. But if she’s awake…”

  I recognize the old Priestess as she pokes her head around the door and pronounces, “She’s awake.”

  She shuts herself in with me, leaving Cassian in the corridor. She’s small and bony, but the air tingles around her. Howl may well be right when he says that deep magic recognizes itself. Just like the first time I saw her, the Priestess’s presence makes my skin warm like stepping into a shaft of sunlight.

  Her eyes are bright and assess me quickly. “Howl has passed out on his bed. Clutching his heartstones of course.” She gives me a quick grin and I’m surprised at the way her cheeks turn into dimples. “Paranoia is the illness of kings.”

  She tucks her long straight hair behind her ear. “General Cassian has brought me here because he believes that there’s something in this palace you need to see. It requires you to leave this room however, which in turn means danger for everyone involved. Are you willing to accept that danger?” She leans forward, peering into my eyes. “For everyone involved?”

  “You mean… including for Cassian?”

  “Yes.”

  “I… have no idea.”

  She cocks her head to the side. “That’s good enough for me. Put this on and come with me please.” She hands me a coat and as soon as I pull it over my arms, she darts from the room before I have a chance to blink. I glance back at Elyria but she’s fast asleep.

  I follow the old Priestess out, frowning as I pass Cassian. He says, “Don’t be long. If Howl comes back I’ll only be able to stall him for a short time.”

  The Priestess hurries down the hall. A minute later, she says, “It looks like General Cassian has found something to care about.”

  “Other than himself you mean.”

  Her voice is laced with warning. “Do not let your anger blind you to the truth, Marbella Mercy. Or you will lose more than you ever knew you had.”

  Okay, why am I following this old lady anyway?

  “How have you been sleeping, dear?” she asks before I can rethink my current course of action and head straight back to my room.

  “Well, but not well.”

  “How about tonight?”

  I’m not cold. It only now dawns on me that I’m perfectly warm. Which means it must be something to do with the underground mine. I only freeze at night when I’m there. But… why?

  The Priestess suddenly says, “Before you judge Cassian too harshly, you should know that he was barely sixteen years old when Howl killed King Roman. How
l killed Cassian’s family too but gave Cassian a choice. Cassian chose life. My point is… nothing in this place is straightforward.”

  Before I can respond, she places her finger to her lips. We’ve travelled from one secluded part of the palace to another, up a flight of stairs to a landing and another door.

  “Nobody is supposed to enter this room,” she says, leading me inside. “It’s not locked because Howl expects his word to be obeyed, but I’m in a rebellious mood.”

  I’m still reeling from what she told me about Cassian. I’m not sure how to process it. As the Priestess draws me into the room, I see that there are only two objects inside it. One I recognize and the other I don’t.

  “My armor,” I whisper, racing to where it hangs. I’d left it in a satchel on the Phoenix’s back when Howl surrounded us on Mount Erador. I hadn’t seen it since then.

  The other object rests on a simple wooden pedestal. “A book?”

  “A very special book. It’s the only object that Howl saved from the old palace before he destroyed it.” She positions herself beside the door. “I will keep watch. Go on, open it.”

  I peer at it. The inscription on the front says: Incorruptible.

  That was the gargoyle Queen’s name. The pages inside the book progress through a rainbow of different-colored sections: starting with white first, followed by shades of purple, blue, orange, green, and finally red.

  As I turn to the first page, it’s clear that it’s a journal: Queen Incorruptible’s journal written hundreds of years ago. I flip through the entries until I get to one that stops me.

  It wasn’t Hideaway’s fault. It was mine. I was the one who wanted to see the humans—the ones with the strange metal sticks that cause animals to fall down dead. I tried to tell the King that I put myself in danger, but he didn’t want to believe me. Hideaway is such a loyal friend that he took the blame.

  I guess now I know why Cassian’s family was born into servitude. As I read on, the entries become more and more despairing. The humans hunt the gargoyles like animals—the females especially are hunted for their beautiful wings and the males are hunted for their wing daggers. Some of the descriptions of what they face are so horrifying that I have to skim over them.

  The gargoyles flee across continents, trying to find a safe place to live, joining up with the elves to travel through a vast continent called Europe all the way to a place she calls the ‘new world.’ Along the way, the Queen begs her husband to allow her to fight back, to kill the humans, but they argue about the morality of a pre-emptive strike versus self-defense. She is close friends with Prime, Lightsworn, and Virtuous and they all want to fight back, but in the end, the King says he won’t become the monster that the humans think he is.

  Finally, I reach the passage where the gargoyles and elves reach an accord: a desperate plan to leave the Earth’s surface and descend together into the earth.

  I reach the very last passage before the white-colored section ends.

  I am Incorruptible and this is my last written vow.

  My husband, the gargoyle King, has already given his life to part the Earth. The elven King has given his life to create a new sky. Today I will ascend with the elven Queen. I will become the moon and she will become the sun. I give my life willingly, but it is with one regret.

  I am true and loyal to my husband, King Supreme. I am true and loyal to my people. I have never betrayed them. But my truest heart, my deepest love, belongs forever and always with Prime. When I ascend with the Phoenix today, my final thoughts will be of him.

  My heart lurches. I understand her pain. The Queen was in love with Prime but she never acted on it. She couldn’t be with him the same way I couldn’t be with Baelen. But I’m determined that our story will end differently. We will be together.

  I suddenly feel like I’m eavesdropping on someone else’s life. I mean, I guess I am. As I flip through the other sections, I realize that each one belongs to a different Queen: each successor who came after Incorruptible. I flip to the final section of the book, its pages crimson. The first entry is marked with a date four hundred years ago. The name written at the top of the page is:

  Bethesda.

  My mother gave me this book today. As the daughter of the Queen, I am heir to the throne. When I marry in a week, she will step down and I will be Queen. She told me that when I write my name, the pages will turn the color of my life. I’m not sure what it means that they have turned the color of blood.

  Two days later, she wrote:

  I met the Elven King today. He is here for my wedding. My mother told me not to trust him, that he is treacherous, but I don’t know why she would say that. He has been nothing but polite and attentive. I’m not afraid of him.

  The two entries after that contain only dates, but no writing, which is odd that the pages were dated but left blank. The third entry says only:

  Now I am Queen.

  I flip through the pages and the details of her life, her husband; sometimes she talks about her brother who seems fiercely protective of her. In fact, it reads as if that’s his job. He doesn’t seem to have a wife or children. I guess that if the throne passes from daughter to daughter and the brother never has children, that means there’s no fighting about the rightful heir.

  I reach the end of the book, the last passage.

  My children were born today. My son came first, which is not how it should have been. He should have been born second, to be his sister’s protector. He struggles to breathe and his wings are not strong. It’s my fault. I know it is.

  But… my daughter is perfect. There are no signs that she is not what she is supposed to be. She will be Queen one day. The fact that she was born second doesn’t change that. In fact, it is as if she is her brother’s protector and not the other way around. I have named her Elyria, because she will need to be unbreakable. If she ever learned the truth—

  “How did you get in here?”

  I jump, spin, and drop the book. It hits the floor with a slam.

  “Were you reading that?” Howl pounds into the room, wings spread, both heartstones shedding an angry glow, lighting up the rage oozing from every angle of his body.

  “No,” I squeak. Luckily the book landed closed. “Just looking at the cover.”

  Where is the Priestess? I can’t see her anywhere. I didn’t hear her leave, but I tuned out to everything so she could have left at any stage.

  Howl veers toward me and it’s abundantly clear that he’s no longer intoxicated, but sharp and angry. I backpedal fast, angling for the door, but I don’t quite make it out of there before he grabs me by my shoulders and presses me hard up against the wall. “Nobody reads that book!”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you understand?”

  “I understand.”

  He releases me and I jump away from him. Luckily I memorized the way here, because I’m going straight back to my room before he grabs me again. I race to the door and stumble down the stairs, glancing back to check whether he’s following me.

  He isn’t. He’s bending to the floor instead. I pause for a dangerous moment, watching as he picks up the book, but he doesn’t place it back on the pedestal. Instead, he curls both hands around the outside covers and pulls.

  It doesn’t open.

  He tries again, straining, the heartstones glowing brightly with the effort, but it remains closed.

  He slams it onto the pedestal. “Humph. Nobody reads that book.”

  I race away as fast as I can. Halfway back to my room, the old Priestess jumps out at me. I swallow a scream that turns to anger. “You left me there.”

  She takes my elbow and steers me down the corridor toward my room, whispering. “You needed to see that.”

  “See what?”

  “That the book can’t be opened.”

  “But I opened it.”

  “Yes.” She grins. “You did.”

  Cassian paces outside my room. He pulls up as soon as he sees us. “Did she?”
/>   “She did.”

  He blows out a breath, staring at me. He suddenly launches into action. “I’m not waiting for the morning. I’m taking her back to the mine right now. She’s not safe here. If Howl scents her, she’s dead.”

  “Agreed. Especially because Howl is on his way here.” The Priestess’s whisper is a quiet hiss as she hurries back down the corridor, darting away into the darkness.

  “Wait… what… but… I can’t just leave.” Baelen is here. The Storm is here. I have to talk to the Storm about what I just read. I’m certain that the last journal entry was written by her mother. She wrote about her daughter Elyria and something about learning the truth. I need to face the Storm once and for all and find out what happened.

  I don’t realize I’ve backed away from Cassian until he says, “I’m not going to hurt you. The mine is the safest place for you. You have friends there who will protect you. And the furthest you’re away from Howl, the better.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to go back—I actually really want to get out of here—but I don’t understand what all of that book stuff was about.”

  “I… can’t tell you.”

  Footsteps sound down the hall. Heavy ones. Howl ones.

  I won’t be able to say goodbye to the Storm. I try to gather my thoughts. Howl told me to find a heartstone. Once I’m free, I can find out everything I need to know about the Storm. There will be time for that. Right now, Cassian believes my life is in danger. I hate leaving Elyria, but I can’t help her until I help Baelen and I can’t do that until I find a heartstone… which I don’t want to do because that will only make Howl more powerful.

  I seriously want to scream right now.

  Cassian holds out his hand. “We have no time for a crate. I will carry you. Through the window.” His eyes meet mine. “Please.”