Storm Princess Saga- the Complete Series

by Everly Frost

  Confused, I say, You called me.

  She gasps. Sobs. The connection between us brightens, tugging at me, pulling at my chest, even though my legs can’t move. I grip the sword tighter, pulling with all my strength, needing to go to her.

  At the same time, a force I didn’t anticipate washes across me, a powerful gale spinning around me, pinning me to the spot, forcing me to remain where I am.

  I shudder as I realize she’s pushing me away.

  Her voice is broken and I don’t know why. Baelen, I love you.

  Marbella, let me help you.

  She is bleak. I won’t let you die.

  I don’t know what she’s facing, what has hurt her, and she won’t let me help. The wind—her power—grows stronger, dragging on my armor as it presses down on my shoulders, forcing my feet farther into the ground, forcing me to remain still.

  Despite the ferocious force pinning me to the spot, the connection between us is so bright, I have to close my eyes.

  How can I feel like she’s right beside me, wanting me, and at the same time she’s pushing me away with all her might?

  All rational thought leaves my mind. I fight her as hard as I can. Marbella! Let me help you!

  A golden light flashes.

  She screams through our connection, her pain crashing over me. It becomes my pain, ripping through my heart, shredding me into pieces.

  The wind drops. There’s a moment of silence and then—

  The field explodes into thunder and lightning that tears through the grass, scorching the earth around my feet, the full fury of the Storm wailing around me.

  I roar into the maelstrom. Marbella!

  But this time, she doesn’t answer.

  19. Marbella Mercy

  Baelen’s voice sounds inside my mind, the connection so strong he could be standing beside me. Marbella, baby, you’re in trouble. What’s wrong?

  I shout so loudly inside my mind that I slap my hands across my ears before I scream myself deaf. Baelen, stop! You aren’t healed. Don’t come out or you’ll die.

  There’s a pause, confusion in his voice. But I feel stronger…

  That’s because we’re connected. But that was a mistake. This is a mistake.

  Somehow I’d flashed back to the moment when Baelen died. The pain I felt was so strong, the memory of him was so strong, that I’d connected with him again without intending to.

  Don’t come back! Please, Baelen. Whatever you do. Don’t come back until I ask you to.

  But… you did ask me. You called me.

  Tears leak down my cheeks. I had called him. I’d shouted his name. I suddenly realize I’ve closed my eyes while Baelen and I were speaking and I have to open them, because I sense…

  Howl.

  Every laborious step he’s taken has brought him within two steps of me. His hands are outstretched and he’s reaching, reaching for me and my power.

  His lips move, the intense need in his eyes burning through me. “So. Much. Power.”

  I have to stop what’s happening. I can’t let Howl inhale our connected power like he did with mine earlier. I can’t let him touch me. And not only because the thought of him touching the connection between Baelen and me fills me with horror and disgust and… just no.

  There’s a flicker of movement over Howl’s shoulder. The Storm is shouting, but until this moment, I couldn’t hear her. The connection with Baelen is so strong it blocked everything out except what’s right in front of me. She’s pointing, finger jabbing in the same direction that the High Priestess is pointing.

  Howl takes another step.

  “Knife!” the Storm screams, pointing at his shoulder.

  Llion’s gold-plated knife is still embedded in the bone at the top of Howl’s wing. Just like the swords in his chest, he hasn’t taken the time to remove it.

  It’s a knife that can cut through anything.

  My heart bleeds. Baelen, I love you.

  Marbella, let me help you.

  I know he could. Together, we could end Howl. Howl already told me that our power combined would be formidable. But it would only lead to Baelen’s death. He wouldn’t survive long enough to be healed. When he froze himself, he was literally seconds away from death.

  I shake my head. I won’t let you die.

  Howl bends, crouching to my height, slowly, painstakingly pushing against the power that wants to pin him in place. I take two steps back for run up and then launch myself, feet first into his chest. The blessed heels pierce his skin before I knock him backward. He has no control over his fall—all of his energy has been used to push toward me. He lands with a thud. I leave the heels embedded in his chest with the swords, race the two steps it takes me to run across his chest to his wing, bend, and wrench the knife out of him.

  I keep running, plowing into Jasper to wake him up and knock him off course. He had been aiming for Howl’s back when Howl was leaning over Llion. I don’t want Jasper to end up plunging his sword into Llion instead.

  “Marbella!”

  “No time. I’m sorry.”

  I’m really sorry. I arc around, skirting around Howl who is regaining his feet, and head for a clear patch of floor where I can’t be interrupted for a few precious seconds.

  I stop, my heart pounding, banging in my chest so hard it’s going to burst out of me. The thread between Baelen and I glows bright. Carefully, I take hold of it in my left hand, pulling it taut. It’s attached to my heart and what I’m about to do is going to cut my heart out.

  Howl is already thudding up behind me, throwing the heels to the side and reaching back to wrench the swords out. He’s speeding up. I don’t have long.

  With a scream, I run the knife through the thread.

  The connection severs, pain screams through me, and droplets of acid rain splatter the floor. The knife shatters as it passes through the thread, spraying golden shells around me. A confetti of gold and ruby rains down around me, shattered pieces like my heart.

  Everything snaps into motion before the shards hit the floor. I slump forward and Howl slams into me, wrapping one arm around my waist, keeping another over the heartstone—his standard approach for making sure I don’t touch it. As he wrenches us both to a halt, his heartbeat drums so loudly that I can hear it from several inches away. He must have really been exerting himself to move toward me before.

  My knees buckle. I push against his wings as they threaten to envelop me, forcing them apart long enough to see that Baelen is completely stationary again. The Storm rushes to him, sweeps her hand through the bars of his cage, and places her palm against his chest. She gives me a single, grim nod. He’s going to be okay.

  I stop fighting Howl but to my relief he doesn’t close his wings around me like before.

  “You severed your own connection.” His condemning statement sounds far away and tinny. His voice becomes an angry growl at my ear. “You gave him all your power.”

  In the distance, the Storm suddenly lurches away from Baelen, causing my heart to go into panic mode. Was she mistaken? Is he dead? She spins in a tornado of movement and races toward me, panic-stricken, but halfway to me she jerks backward as if she has slammed into a wall. She rebounds toward Baelen like there’s a rope attached to her spine and somebody just gave it a savage tug.

  She cries, “Princess, I’m not bound to you anymore. I’m bound to Baelen! I’m… stuck here.”

  I stare at her, stricken silent. I hardly know how to process what I’ve done. I wanted to stop Baelen waking up, but somehow I’ve severed my connection with him and the Storm altogether. On top of that, if Howl is to be believed, I’ve given the last remnants of my power to Baelen. He holds it all now. And that means…

  I don’t even know what that means…

  Howl wrenches me around so that I’m facing him, both of his hands planted around my waist, squeezing. His nostrils flare and his mouth twists into a dangerous line. He shakes me so hard that my insides rattle. “You gave him all your power!”

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nbsp; There’s a dark cavity inside my heart where the storm used to be—where Baelen used to be. I think I must be numb or in shock. My body needs to sink, to connect with the floor. I wouldn’t even be standing if it wasn’t for Howl’s steely grip.

  I tip my head back, unable to connect with my limbs or my spine to keep myself straight. My hair has come loose and it cascades down my back, not quite as red as the Court, but bloody enough. I whisper, “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

  He raises his open palm, a slap moments away from landing, when a female voice shouts, “Leave her be.”

  Howl spins to Liliana who has got hold of a sword and clearly knows how to handle it, gripping it with two hands around the hilt, the tip pointed squarely between his sternum and his throat. “Your mistreatment of the elven Princess has gone far enough, King Howl.”

  He cocks an eyebrow at her. “A gargoyle trying to help an elf. How unexpected.” He rattles me again. “And you, Princess.” He spits my title like it’s something caught between his teeth. “You put yourself in harm’s way for a gargoyle. One from the Grievous Clan no less.”

  He spins me so that I face Llion who stands in a clear patch of floor with Jasper beside him, the guards giving them both a wide berth for the moment.

  “Grievous Llion, my cousin,” Howl says, “I should cut off your wings and make you a slave. But that would mean keeping you around. On the other hand, killing you will be much too easy.”

  Liliana follows Howl’s movements with her sword, but I sense her desperation when she looks at Llion. They haven’t had a chance to reunite or reconnect. She won’t know what happened to her children or where they are. She might not even know that Llion thought she was dead. She must be very practiced at keeping her emotions tucked away because, other than the first flicker of worry, she betrays nothing more than a determination to strike Howl if she has to.

  Not that it would do much good.

  “Let’s see how long your loyalty lasts in the mines,” Howl says, shoving me at Cassian. “Get them out of my sight!”

  I swing inside a woven crate, the afternoon sunlight slanting through the gaps to warm my toes. I’m still wearing the dress with the ridiculous slit up the back, my knees held to my chest, curled up inside the container. When I grip the woven bars, my hands come away coated in flour. Apparently, they use these crates to transport food to the mines.

  I’m a different kind of cargo.

  In fact, I’m not entirely sure what I am anymore.

  The Storm’s panicked wail returns to me, her cry echoing in my ears. Storm clouds had gathered over Crimson Court as the guards dragged us away, but somehow Jasper had calmed her down. “We’ll be okay,” he’d shouted back to her.

  “I’m scared, Jasper! You told me to tell you when I’m scared. Well, it’s now.”

  “You’ll be safe,” he’d called, not even trying to pretend he was talking to me, although that’s probably what the guards thought. “Watch over Baelen. That’s your job now.”

  “Watch Baelen,” she had whimpered, sinking to her knees beside his cage. “I’ll stay and watch Baelen. Please be safe Jasper…”

  Now, I peer through the gaps, trying to see the crate carrying Jasper and the one carrying Llion. Cassian’s clawed feet are all I can see above me—he’s the one transporting my crate—while flickers of color between sunlight tell me that there’s a crate to my right and one further behind.

  The trip takes less than an hour. Cassian said something about taking us to the western mine. The crate bumps to a stop and the lock at the side clicks open. I’m pretty sure they don’t usually chain up their vegetables.

  “Out.” Cassian’s brilliant sapphire eyes appear as the hatch opens and I scramble out on my hands and knees, preferring to go head first than to shimmy out in this dress. “Watch your step,” he says as he saunters away to the other crates.

  Jasper and Llion both squeeze out of the baskets to my right.

  A gust of wind hits me, whipping my hair around my face. We’ve landed on the uppermost peak of a mountain made primarily of rust-colored rock, bringing to mind an angry volcano.

  A group of over twenty miners perches opposite. They are all bare to the waist, their chests smudged with dust. I recognize the one with the blue streaks in his wings as well as the smaller, wiry one who had stood beside him back at the Court. If I thought they looked imposing from a distance, I have good reason to keep my distance now that they’re up close. They’re massive like Llion. Some of them give Llion a quick nod, acknowledging his presence, but none of them look happy to see Jasper or me.

  The guards seem content to let us move around. They all carry long whips with black tips, curled up and attached to their belts. I eye this new weapon cautiously, but the guards don’t try to stop Jasper or Llion when they position themselves on either side of me. I’m glad for their solidarity. As a bare-foot elf in a pretty dress and without any powers, I know I’m in for a tough time.

  “You okay, Marbella?” Jasper asks, to which I give him a quick nod.

  “Thank you for saving my life, Lady Storm,” Llion murmurs at my side. But when I raise my eyes to his, I catch a sudden confusion in the tilt of his head. As he leans down to me, I sense his short inhalation of breath and the deep thought in his eyes. Funny I always thought his eyes were gray with gold flecks, but as he assesses me I see that they’re actually mostly golden.

  “I know,” I whisper when his confusion deepens. “I am not clouds and ice anymore.”

  “No… you are not.” He leans in a little more, one hand reaching for my cheek. “You sacrificed much for my life.”

  His large hand is warm and surprisingly soft cupping my cheek. It’s such a simple gesture, but it brings a burn of tears to the back of my eyes.

  I say, “I’m sorry I broke your knife.”

  “That was for the best. I truly hoped it would be strong enough to shatter the heartstone, but it could only be used for evil if Howl got his hands on it.”

  He draws his palm across my cheek, his curious frown never leaving his forehead.

  I ask, “What is it?”

  He gives a small shake of his head. “Now that the storm is gone from you… I sense something else…”

  Cassian’s approach from across the clearing interrupts us. He and the guards have finished rounding up the miners into lines.

  “Welcome to Mount Prime,” he says, before turning his attention back to the miners. “Listen up, you no-clan filth!”

  He paces across the space between us and them. “The rules have changed. From now on, you will dig in teams. Of which there will be five. That means…” He pauses and it seems to be for effect, although I’m not sure why. “There will be one team for each tunnel.”

  For some reason, that causes a big stir. The miners erupt, not quite into shouts, but definitely unhappy disagreement with what Cassian just said. I eye them warily, trying to figure out why having one team for each tunnel would be a problem.

  Cassian’s sharp eye has them settling quickly. “Each week, you will fight to determine which team mines which tunnel. The winner will choose the tunnel they mine that week. But of course, as our generous King has decreed, any miner who finds a heartstone will get back what he… or she… wants.”

  He shouts five names, and five gargoyles step forward. They size each other up for a moment. One of them is the gargoyle with the blue wings.

  Cassian addresses him first. “No-clan Roar, pick your first team member.”

  The gargoyle called Roar immediately claps his hand on the shoulder of the wiry gargoyle standing a step behind him. “I choose Iago.”

  Cassian moves on to the next team leader and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how this will go. Nobody will want me on their team. They will probably tolerate Jasper—even without wings, he’s visibly strong, muscled, whereas I’m a tiny female without wings. The fifth team leader glares at me with distaste. As the last to pick each time, he’s going to be burdened with me.

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sp; The first picks are over and it’s back to Roar for his second pick. He says, “I choose Llion.”

  There’s a stir among the others, but Roar growls at them. “What? Have you forgotten who this gargoyle is? I’m happy none of you picked him already.”

  A shadow of a smile passes across Llion’s face as the others shuffle and murmur. Llion acknowledges Roar with a short nod, but his next statement causes an even bigger commotion. “With respect, Sunflight Roar, if you choose me, you must choose the Lady Storm next. Otherwise, I will be no help to you.”

  Roar is taken back, glancing harshly between Llion and me. “You mean you wouldn’t dig?”

  “That is correct,” Llion says. “No matter what punishment comes my way.”

  Cassian has stopped pacing and seems dangerously amused, rather than annoyed, at Llion’s statement.

  Roar asks, “Not even for the chance to free Lightsworn Liliana?”

  “My fate is bound to the Storm Princess,” Llion says, any hint of softness disappearing from his features. “My wife understands the debt I owe.”

  I consider his statement, remembering the way Liliana had attempted to defend me after I severed my connection with Baelen. It drives home to me the fact that the gargoyles have a whole culture that I know nothing about. Elven culture doesn’t include the concept of a life debt, but maybe gargoyle society does.

  Even if it does, I’m not sure that Llion owes me such a debt. I stopped Howl from killing him but it was as much about self-preservation as helping Llion. On top of that, Llion helped us at the border. Not to mention, he spared my life on Scepter Peak during the trials. On balance, I might owe him a debt and not the other way around.

  Roar grits his teeth, the muscles in his jaw ticking. He sizes me up, looking me up and down. He’s trying to decide if I’m worth the risk. I’ve been underestimated enough times by enough males that I glare right back at him. If Baelen were here, he’d shake his head at the lot of them. I catch Jasper’s eye and have a very strong sense he’s trying not to roll his eyes at the other males right now. There’s a reason I made it to the final fight in my marriage trials and it has nothing to do with how tall I am.