Storm Princess Saga- the Complete Series

by Everly Frost

  The furious pit inside me opens up, but I push it away. “A life without her is a death sentence. I’ve spent the last seven years dying.”

  Macsen’s response is a rapid tensing of his jaw. He’s holding in all the curse words he wants to shout at me right now. He won’t speak them, but his furious gaze says it all.

  Before I can say anything else, a bell chimes. I tense before I recognize it. “One of the other Houses is here.”

  He gives a confirming nod. “I heard a rumor that Splendor was on its way.”

  Despite my position, I’m not told who will arrive and when. I just have to be prepared at all times. Glancing back at the mess I’m leaving behind, I feel bad about not cleaning it up. Being a leader isn’t about having others clean up the mess you make. My father used to tell me, “Actions have consequences. You can’t hide from them. You clean the blood off your own sword, son.”

  In this case, I’ll have to send someone in to sweep up the broken training post.

  I stride from the room, the book tucked under my arm. “I’m glad it’s Splendor. I need to speak with Sebastian.”

  Macsen dares to place a hand on my arm, a brief warning as we exit the room. “Be careful, Baelen. The Elven Command is concealing the situation with the gargoyles at the border. They don’t want the news to spread.”

  “You don’t trust Sebastian?”

  “I don’t trust his grandfather. Teilo Splendor is a member of the Elven Command.”

  I shake my head. “Sebastian won’t betray me.”

  “No, but you have to be careful around his House. Remember that his cousin Simon is likely to be chosen as a champion. If it comes to a fight to the death between you and Simon, Sebastian’s loyalty will be tested.”

  Damn these protocols.

  As we leave the building, I’m pleased to see a battalion already gathered in the courtyard at the center of the military compound, ready to ride out to greet the arriving House.

  Tonight, it’s Splendor. Soon, it’ll be others. Not all of them will be a welcome sight.

  7. Marbella Mercy

  My training begins at the break of dawn. I don’t have to go to the Storm Vault until early that afternoon so I have all morning to train. I hadn’t expected to be woken before the sparrows though.

  “Good morning, Princess. Rise and shine.” Jordan pushes the lever that covers the skylight above my bed, her tall form a silhouette against the dim light beyond.

  I crack open one eye. “The sun isn’t up.”

  “No, but the city’s awake. The first of the major Houses arrived last night and we’re expecting three more today.”

  During the week leading up to the Heartstone Ceremony, the major Houses have the right to arrive first, while the minor Houses have to wait—to the last day or even the last moment if the majors take their time. It’s all a game of strategy—get here first or wait to make an impression.

  I scrub at the grin threatening my face. Baelen Rath beat all of them. I’m not sure why that makes me happy but it does. Although… there’s one rule that he did follow and that is that the House of Rath has the right of first nomination as the highest House. But approaching me in the Storm Vault was definitely a first.

  “Which house arrived last night?” I ask.

  “The House of Splendor.”

  I sit up. “Splendor!” A larger grin breaks across my face. “Is Sebastian with them?”

  Jordan’s serious facade disappears for a moment as a smile replaces it. The glow in her eyes lights up her face. She tugs at the end of her long ponytail, her dark brown hair a smooth cascade over her shoulder. “He’s with them.”

  I bounce out of bed. “That’s the first good news we’ve had all week. It’s been too long since you saw him.” I frown at what she’s wearing. “You can’t see him dressed like that.”

  She stands tall in her gray body suit. It’s lightweight and flexible—standard issue. But boring as anybody’s business. Not that Jordan doesn’t look good in even the most unflattering clothing. Constant training has honed her body to a lithe grace. She glides everywhere she goes without even realizing it.

  She says, “Sebastian Splendor knows that I’m the Storm Commander. He respects my position.”

  “True. But you’re a female first and he needs to see you as one.”

  Her shoulders sink a little. “Until the Heartstone Ceremony, I’m not allowed to speak to any male elf. Just like you can’t.”

  I grin. “That doesn’t mean he can’t see you… My training starts now, right?”

  “Yes, and don’t think I haven’t guessed you’re stalling.”

  I throw my hands up as I stride to the bathroom. “Does Sebastian still like to start his day with a run?”

  She tilts her head. “As far as I know, yes.”

  “Then I think we should too.”

  “Princess?”

  “Trust me. Call the Storm Command. I’ll be out in two minutes.”

  I splash water over my face as soon as she leaves and pull my hair into a ponytail similar to the ones my Storm Command wear. Then I choose a simple suit of light material that matches Jordan’s: gray in color, strong but supple. I grab an apple from the fruit bowl beside the door and devour it in a few, big bites.

  Jordan gave up everything when her House, Splendor, nominated her to be a member of my Storm Command, including her budding relationship with Sebastian. I’ve set myself on a course to avoid marriage, but I’ll do what I can for her to have a normal relationship. Well, as normal as it can be.

  I emerge and call the elves to me, marveling at how fresh they look despite awakening before dawn. My own eyes are still half closed. We navigate the corridors until we reach the clearing leading out to the river.

  There’s a scenic path along the river that Sebastian ran along the last time the House of Splendor visited the city. For the most part, the major Houses occupy their own lands throughout Erawind and only visit the city on formal occasions. Members of the minor Houses don’t own their own land, but work on the land of major Houses. I hate the social division although I’m painfully aware that I never would have been friends with Baelen if my mother didn’t work in the House of Rath.

  Now, I pause with the river on my left until I sense movement a short distance behind us. Perfect timing.

  “Run.” My command is quiet in the stillness and my ladies move, fluid and graceful around me. “Three file, please. Jordan to my outer right.”

  My guards split into three lines, with me in the middle of the central one. It’s easy for them to reform the protective circle if they need to. Each pace-keeper at the front will move to the back of the line after five minutes, sharing the responsibility for keeping us in unison.

  I don’t look at her, but I sense Jordan’s eyes on me for a moment as she obeys me and moves to the line on my right, closest to the grass at the edge of the path. If the male elves want to pass us, they will have to move right by her.

  For a minute, I sink into the rhythm of movement, the river sparkling to our left, the grassy slopes glittering with dew.

  A moment later, the heavier footsteps of male elves reach us. While we run with quiet stealth, they sing as they run, making their presence known. I close my eyes for a moment because there’s nothing quite so gorgeous as the unguarded harmony of male elves singing. While the House of Reverie is known for its ability to cultivate plants, the House of Splendor is known for its voices.

  “Spin gold, shelter silver,” they sing. It’s a warrior’s song that can adapt to any context. Right now, spinning gold is about welcoming the rising sun, and sheltering silver is a tribute to the waning moon. In battle, the meaning is far more gruesome: spill blood and bury the enemy.

  They veer out from behind us onto the grass. Our identities are concealed in the dim light but our silhouettes make it clear we’re female.

  As they draw level with us, their harmony becomes respectful of our gender. “Welcome the light, and honor the life-giver.”


  The House of Splendor is also known for being more progressive than the other Houses, encouraging its females to take up positions traditionally reserved for males. It’s particularly prosperous as a result. I can’t help but smile as the males speed up to draw level with us and then slow to match our pace. The expanse beside the river is wide enough to accommodate multiple jogging groups.

  One of the males breaks off from his group, jogging closer to Jordan. It’s hard to see, but elves in the House of Splendor have very pale eyes, reflective like a cat’s, and I’m sure I recognize the unusual silver-green of Sebastian Splendor’s.

  I know it’s him when Jordan tilts her head and gives him a formal nod. He does the same and settles into stride with her. The male elves sing about gold and silver again, but Sebastian’s voice is louder than the others when he sings the next verse. “She is worth more than both.”

  They may not be able to speak to each other, but he found a way to tell her he still loves her. For the first time in days, my heart swells. There’s not a lot I can do to control my own destiny, but I’m determined that my friend will find happiness.

  We run together for the next thirty minutes until the sun breaks across the horizon. In this formation—and because my Storm Command rotates on and off duty—it’s easy for the males to assume that I’m not with them. Now that the sun is rising, that illusion will be hard to maintain.

  I don’t need to signal Jordan for her to know this. As soon as the sky brightens, she calls for the Storm Command to break away from the males, turning as a group and cutting across the slope to take the shortcut back to my quarters.

  As I turn away from the sun, a shadow passes across it. I squint back to identify it. I shake my head. Just a bird.

  Once we’re back on the main path, the elves form a protective circle around me again.

  “I’m not as fit as I thought I was,” I say, raising some eyebrows. “I think we should start the day with a run tomorrow too.”

  Jordan smiles. “Thank you, Princess.”

  I shake my head at her. “I wish you’d call me by my name.”

  She grins. “One day, Princess.”

  When we reach the War Room to begin my training, Elise is waiting for us. She’s the only thing I recognize in the room. The members of my Storm Command who stayed behind from the morning run have been busy transforming the space into a training center. My jaw drops at what they’ve achieved. Shelves full of wooden weapons rest against the walls. There are mats everywhere, climbing equipment, and archery targets.

  Elise steps forward.

  “Anything?” I ask her, hoping she’ll understand that I’m asking whether she’s found out anything about the curse.

  “Not yet. But I found an answer to the problem of touching you while you train. I’ve cast a shielding spell over each member of your Storm Command. It cloaks their skin and places an invisible barrier between you. They will be able to touch you without making any real contact.”

  “I didn’t know you could do that.”

  “It’s not easy to conjure and it wears off. You have three hours at most, but I suggest you keep it to two hours just to be safe.”

  I turn to Jordan. “Is that long enough?”

  “It’s probably for the best. You can’t be too tired to face the Storm this afternoon.”

  I’m not sure. I’ve got a lot of training to catch up on. The last time I fired an arrow was, well, far too long ago.

  When I argue, Elise steps in. “You can’t take any chances today.”

  Her words are pointed. I haven’t forgotten the storm’s power yesterday. It feels like a lifetime ago that the storm spoke to me. So much has happened since. But I can’t forget that the storm is getting stronger.

  Jordan’s posture changes. She transforms into relentless trainer mode right before my eyes. “Are you ready, Princess?”

  I say, “More than ready.”

  8. Marbella Mercy

  The barrier between our bodies works a little too well. Fighting my Storm Command feels the same as fighting pieces of wood. It’s not like touching living, breathing creatures. On the positive side, I stop seeing my ladies as elves. I stop worrying about hurting them the way I’ve been trained to fear hurting others ever since I became the Princess.

  By the end of the week, one day before the Heartstone Ceremony, Jordan has beaten any remaining fear or uncertainty out of me. I’ve also discovered my weapon of choice.

  As ten female elves surround me, I see only targets.

  The blows come lightning fast, but I feint left, right, duck and slide, retrieving my wooden staff from the ground several feet away. I return to my feet, swinging my weapon at foot level while I’m down.

  As the wooden staff sweeps the ground, two of my Storm Command are swept from their feet with it. I quickly follow up with whip-like blows to both their torsos, forcing them down as I leap upward. Three more are upon me but I shove the weapon at one, hearing the air leave her lungs, as I quickly withdraw it and swing it left at the other, connecting with a crack against her ribs. I kick out at the one approaching from my right, losing myself to the rhythm of the fight.

  I leap and spin to avoid the next dagger, the next sword, using the staff to disarm and attack at the same time. I love how much distance it gives me, keeping my attackers at bay and if they get too close, I use my legs to force them backward.

  One of them decides to fight fire with fire, coming at me with her own wooden staff. The two weapons thud and crack against each other, back and forth as we continue to avoid each other’s attacks. An arrow whistles in from the side and I deflect it, vaguely aware that there are only two other females still standing. I jab the staff left, but don’t give it everything. The female avoids my attack by feinting right but I’m too quick for her, casting my weapon in that direction before she can adjust. It connects with her shoulder with a savage thud and she stumbles backward.

  The final two females race at me at once, swords in hand, one ducking under the staff, the other flying upward. I rotate left, my weapon passing between them, but I’m already spinning it. It catches the leaping elf across her legs, knocking her off course and the second across her cheek, cracking against her head so loudly it jars me back to the present.

  I drop my weapon and race to her. “Are you okay?”

  Every one of my ten Storm Commanders lies on the ground. They alternate between wincing and grinning at me. Laughter and clapping follow from the ones who have found it as far up as their knees.

  The one I clobbered in the head rubs her scalp, but she’s smiling. “Nothing a bit of ice won’t fix, Princess. It’s an honor to have fought you.”

  I spin to Elise, still concerned, but she nods. “The cloaking spell protects them from wounds as well as touch. Don’t worry, she’ll be fine.”

  I exhale and help the female to her feet. “I think I’ve gotten a bit too strong.”

  Jordan jumps to her feet from where she stood on the sidelines. She wears a giant grin. “There’s no such thing as too strong. Well done, Princess. We’ll train again after the Heartstone Ceremony, but only when you’re not needed for the protocols.”

  I bite my tongue before I tell her that I won’t be able to train again at all. “Thank you for helping me regain my skills.”

  I help pack up the weapons. Then I have time to visit Mai at the healing center one last time before I have to head to the Storm Vault. The good news is that she’s doing much better. A golden sphere rests on her stomach: the spellcasters devised it as a way to capture the Storm’s remnant energy and draw it safely out of her. They promise me she will be better in a week, but she won’t be able to attend the ceremony tomorrow.

  On the way out of the healing center, Elise creates a sound barrier around her and me. She’s grown more and more subdued as the week progressed and I expect her to tell me that she has no new information—more than anything I want her to tell me that a curse isn’t even possible. All of me hopes that’s true.

  S
he gestures at the sky. “The magic that holds our home together is deep magic; the kind that existed at the beginning of time. The ecosystem around us isn’t created by spells made up of words and spellcasting, but by the ancient magic of creation. It’s only through the deepest magic that our world can exist between layers of the Earth.”

  She studies the sky for so long that I prompt her. “What is it Elise? I doubt you intend to give me a history lesson right now.”

  She wraps her hair behind her ear. “I made a mistake, Princess. When I was searching for a curse, I looked in the spell books—even in the Heartstone Protocols—and I found nothing. I convinced myself it wasn’t possible. I didn’t want to believe that the curse could be something far worse.”

  “Now you’re scaring me.”

  “A curse shouldn’t be possible because the Heartstone Protocols can’t be breached. As soon as a champion hands you his family’s heartstone, the protective spells wipe clean any previous spells cast over him and prevent any new ones being placed. It’s created that way so that a champion can’t win by casting spells over himself. But… the protocols don’t protect against deep magic. They can’t.”

  My heart sinks. “You’re telling me the curse is made from deep magic? But deep magic can’t be countered.”

  She nods. “It would be like trying to stop the sun from shining. The curse may as well be sunlight—”

  “More like death-light…”

  “—shining around the champions. When the final protocol is complete and your husband is chosen, the curse will activate in the same way that our sun rises.”

  “Then nothing can stop it.”

  “Only you can,” she says.

  I miss a step. “How?”

  “You have to kill him before he kills you.”

  If there was any lingering doubt in my mind about fighting for myself, it disappears with those words. Now more than ever, I’m determined that no male will claim me.

  9. Baelen Rath