Storm Princess Saga- the Complete Series

by Everly Frost

  I clear my throat, peering at the structure that blends seamlessly into the cliff. There is a small platform on one side of it that I choose to descend to, finding my feet on what is actual rock. “They’re watching us right now, aren’t they?”

  Baelen makes a smooth landing right behind me. “Yep.”

  I straighten, attempting to appear as regal as I can. I am their Queen after all. Even if the way Baelen creeps up behind me and nuzzles my ear before stepping back again makes it look like he’s the one in charge. Hmm. If he keeps dropping kisses on my neck like that…

  The rock-like structure shifts. A male strides from an opening that quickly closes after two other gargoyles appear close behind him. He’s beaming at me.

  “Badenoch!” I hug him before he can take a knee. “Don’t worry about all the Supreme Incorruptible stuff. I’m honored to see you safe and sound.”

  He grins at me. He’s an older male who holds his wings in such a way that they always move fluidly with him.

  He says, “I’d like to introduce my son and daughter. They will fight with us.”

  Badenoch’s wife died soon after she was forced into Howl’s harem. Badenoch told me his children were living in an orphanage. He’d gone to find them after the fight with Howl in Crimson Court. Two teenagers step up on either side of him. His son is a younger version of him but without the pale scars crossing his chest. His daughter is gorgeous and no doubt takes after her mother with mahogany hair and brown eyes shot through with silver flecks.

  I’m surprised. “Somehow, I pictured your children younger.”

  They smile back at me good-naturedly and bow their heads. “Supreme Incorruptible, we honor you.”

  “I am honored to meet both of you.”

  They show me inside what they call a ‘cavern’ and introduce me to the thirty other gargoyles inside.

  “It’s sort of like a mini Cavity,” Badenoch explains, showing me how the building is painted to look like the rocks around it and covered in strong, protective material that Talia has used her deep magic to conform and meld into the surroundings. I’m really happy this means that Talia is testing out her powers. I haven’t seen her since Grayson caught her on the cliff top.

  Badenoch shows me the openings in the base and top of the structure and the gazillion arrows stockpiled at one end. “If the enemy travels by foot through the ravine below us, we will use these openings to fire on them from above. If they fly over us, we will use the upper openings to shoot them out of the sky.” He reveals one basket of five arrows that are all gold-tipped with shimmer beetle husks. “These are only for a dire emergency.”

  These arrows can slice through any armor, even cut through a gargoyle’s wings. They will bring down the most heavily protected foe but the danger is that the weapon will fall into the enemy’s hands and be used against the gargoyles.

  “Only if absolutely necessary,” I say, thanking Badenoch again.

  Taking to the air with the Phoenix once more, two hours pass before we soar toward the north-western corner of Erador, the firebird’s steady wings propelling us around Mount Denrock and toward a lush, green mountain beyond it. Baelen rides behind me, arms wrapped around me, his head resting against my shoulder. He’s very quiet, relaxed. Somewhere along the way, I discover that he has fallen asleep and I don’t want to wake him.

  The Phoenix has been mostly quiet until now, but it sings into my mind: It’s lucky that you came back when you did. Baelen Rath was a burning candle with no wax left.

  You were checking up on him?

  He called me to help find you. I flew over Erawind many times looking for you but you were hidden from everyone. So were Elise and your Storm Command. Baelen did not sleep. Not even a Storm Prince can survive without sleep for a week.

  I pull Baelen’s arms closer around me, enjoying his trusting weight against my back. I’m determined that he will sleep in a proper bed tonight.

  I ask the Phoenix, What else did you see when you flew over Erawind?

  An army, Princess. Not only of elves, but of winged stallions, griffins, and giant eagles.

  During the trials for my hand, the Elven Command had called on magical creatures to fly the champions to Scepter Peak for the first trial. Now they will use those creatures against us.

  I say, The gargoyles won’t dominate the air like I hoped.

  I also saw cages filled with talon crows and pens of shadow panthers, the firebird replies. It will be a fierce battle in the air as well as on the ground.

  I say, We need to protect the deep springs at all costs. I won’t let our world collapse.

  The Phoenix’s voice is a gentle admonishment as it asks, Have you told Baelen what the Elven Commanders intend to do?

  Guilt rushes through me. I haven’t told him about the Commander’s plans to ascend and destroy the springs. I consider waking him up since our current location is probably one of the most private places we could be, but his deep breathing stops me. He needs to sleep.

  I will tell him as soon as I can.

  Very well. We are nearly there. The Phoenix circles over a valley nestled between two hills. From up here, I can just make out a cabin at the base of the valley next to a lake, but it’s the waterfall at the far end that catches my eye. From the air, the rushing water sparkles like diamonds. I imagine this is like the place Erit built for Indira—the beautiful valley she didn’t want to leave.

  The Phoenix lands beside the lake, several hundred paces from the cabin. I’m very reluctant to wake Baelen, but the firebird rustles its wings and it’s enough to cause him to raise his head. I swing to face him, careful not to kick him in the process. “We’re here.”

  He scrubs at his forehead. “I passed out.”

  I take his face in both my hands. “You need rest. When we get home, you’re sleeping in my bed.”

  His green eyes light up. “Your little bed? My feet will stick out the bottom of it.”

  I kiss his laughing mouth. “Then you’ll just have to curl up.”

  His chest rumbles. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  We slide off the Phoenix and it settles down onto the grass to wait for us. I make my way carefully toward the cabin, listening for its inhabitants. The rushing sound from the distant waterfall grows louder as we approach. Twenty paces from the door, Jasper emerges, striding down the steps. His straight brown hair is longer than it was last time I saw him, hanging loose to his shoulders. He’s wearing simple clothing, no armor or weaponry. His broad shoulders are relaxed and his gold-flecked chocolate eyes gleam.

  I stop dead in my tracks.

  He’s… smiling.

  He greets me first, pulling me into a hug. “Marbella, it’s good to see you.”

  “Jasper… you…”

  He pulls back, a full half-smile gracing his lips. I always suspected that when this male smiled he’d blow the socks off any female around him, but whoa, where did this guy come from?

  His forehead crinkles. “What?”

  “You’re… uh…” I swallow. “You look happy.”

  “I am.” He turns to Baelen. “Brother. It’s good to see you.”

  “You too, Jasper.”

  They bear hug and once again I’m struck at how loyal Jasper is to Baelen and me. He meets my eyes. “You’re here to see Elyria.”

  For a moment, I forgot that he is Senturi’s grandson, but the way he looks at me, seeing more than he should, reminds me that there’s a conversation I need to have with him about his heritage. “Can you please take me to her?”

  “She’s waiting for you by the waterfall. She knew you’d come.” His smile dims, becoming serious. “Ever since you broke her chains, she’s had visions of the future.”

  I give a start. “She’s become a Visionary?”

  “It’s best if you talk to her yourself.”

  “Thank you, Jasper.”

  I leave him and Baelen outside the cabin and follow the river upstream several hundred paces to the place where the waterfall crashes. Elyria sits
on a wooden bench at the side, far enough away from the spray, but close enough that the roar is deafening. Her long lashes blink gently across her deep brown eyes, her hair washes down one side to her hips, and one of her long legs is tucked neatly beneath her bottom. She looks completely relaxed. Even her broken wing flutters in the breeze without tension.

  She says, “This is the only place I can hear myself think.”

  Despite the roar, I can hear her clearly. I suspect there is some sort of spell cast over this spot, but I can’t be sure whether Elyria herself cast it.

  She turns to me as I sit on the chair beside her. She says, “Everywhere else—even the cabin—is full of noisy possibilities. But here, I can make sense of things.”

  “Jasper said you’re having visions.”

  She gives a short nod. “I know it must seem impossible. Visionaries are elves, not gargoyles. But Jasper helped me see that I am a bit of both now.” She smiles, a gentle lifting of her lips. “Like you.”

  “Jasper is taking good care of you?”

  Her eyes light up as she talks about him. “He helps me understand what is real and what is not. At first I was sure I was having waking nightmares—that the things I saw were really happening. Now I can tell when I’m having a vision.” She reaches for my hand. “I’m glad you came to see me, Marbella. You have a difficult path ahead of you.”

  I gasp at the warmth in her hand. Whenever she touched me before, she felt transparent—there but not there. Now, her touch is as normal, as solid and real, as any other gargoyle’s.

  I nod. “There’s a war coming.”

  Her hand squeezes mine, but her brown eyes demand my attention, suddenly so deeply sad that I nearly drown in them. She says, “You don’t want to kill him, but you must.”

  I blink at her, keeping my question careful. “Who?”

  “Grayson Glory.”

  The day suddenly seems very cold, the waterfall much too loud. She’s talking about killing Grayson, but I won’t do that unless I’m forced to. I speak very carefully. “I will defeat Grayson Glory. I will make him surrender.”

  “You have to kill him.”

  My question is sharper than I intended. “Why?”

  She doesn’t blink. “Because I see only two futures: one in which he succeeds and we all die. The other in which he falls and we all live.”

  “But killing him? He is not my real enemy. The Elven Command is my enemy. They are the ones who have plotted and killed for their own ends.”

  She inclines her head. “Yes, but Grayson is the true threat.”

  I can’t deny that what she says is correct. The Elven Command will draw as much power as they can from sorcery for the fight, but it is Grayson who could turn the battle in their favor.

  She persists, “You are conflicted because he has been misled. The forces in his life have taken him down a bad path—a path he might not have walked if not for them. You see the possibility of redemption for him. That he will learn the truth and change his mind.”

  I remove my hand from hers. “Grayson has been lied to his whole life. If I was him and I believed that the elf who raised me was a good person and someone murdered them, I’d want revenge too…”

  She glances upward at my forehead and I can only guess she’s assessing my glowing Virtuous heartstone. “You feel pity for him.”

  “I relate to him. I lived a life caged from everyone too, not being able to touch anyone for fear of killing them. But I was lucky enough to have my Storm Command, my friends, to keep me grounded. He has nothing but those twisted old bastards telling him lies all his life.”

  She studies her hands, remaining calm. “You aren’t wrong to feel the way you feel. In fact… you wouldn’t be who you are if you didn’t.” She bites her lip, studies the stunning blue sky and the sparkling waterfall. “Did you ever wonder why I chose you?”

  I laugh but it’s wry. “All the time.”

  “When you stood on that cliff top… No… Let me go back… When I raged through Erawind after first becoming the storm, I completely lost myself in grief. My brother and mother were murdered before my eyes and I wanted to kill every elf… But when that first Storm Princess, that tiny, fragile little girl ran into the Storm Vault and stood in front of her mother—stood between me and the one she loved—she reminded me of me. She was willing to give up everything to protect her mother just like I gave up everything to avenge mine. I let her take my power into her body, absorb it, and calm me.”

  I hesitate to ask, “And me?”

  “You stood between a lightning bolt and Baelen Rath. You gave your life willingly for his. You were worthy of my power. Which is why I know how hard this is to hear right now. I know you don’t want to kill Grayson.”

  I clench my hands into fists. Grayson isn’t Howl. Death isn’t the only answer. He hasn’t gone so far down his path that there’s no chance left for him. I’m determined to find a way to turn him around. “You keep saying I have to kill him. I know I have to face him in battle but Baelen—”

  “Can’t kill him,” she says firmly. “Baelen can’t. Talia can’t. Elise can’t. I can’t. Not even your heartstones can. There is only one way to defeat a natural-born sorcerer and that power rests solely in your hands.” Her eyes meet mine. “I gave it you.”

  “You mean the storm power.” It’s my turn to persist. “But Baelen shares the storm with me.”

  “He has a derivative of it. And, yes, he was a custodian of the original power for a time, but it was never his. Only you have my original power. I gave you my heart and soul. Only you can stop Grayson…”

  I demand, “How do you know Grayson can’t be stopped another way?”

  “I know because I did it.”

  I frown, not understanding her.

  She explains, “The Elven King who murdered my family… He was the first natural-born sorcerer in our history. I stopped him when nobody else could.”

  I sink back against the chair, my eyes wide. “The Elven King was a sorcerer from birth? I knew he practiced sorcery but…”

  She sighs. “A natural born sorcerer is not like a spellcaster. Sorcery by its nature is dark and malicious. Deep magic, on the other hand, is inherently good. But me… I became the first destructive source of deep magic. It was the only power strong enough to destroy the Elven King’s sorcery.”

  I clench and unclench my hands, hating the choices that are left to me. “So now it’s up to me whether Grayson lives or dies.”

  “It is your choice. But before you make any more choices, you need to know the truth about everything. Starting with the Elven King.”

  “There’s more?” I don’t think I can take any more. I wait for her to continue as fear and uncertainty rise up inside me.

  She says simply, “He was my father.”

  I gape at her, trying to digest this new information. Underneath the simplicity of her statement is sadness. The Elven King tried to kill her. Which means that her father tried to kill her… killed her mother and brother… and then Elyria gave her life to destroy him…

  “Elyria… I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin…”

  She uncoils her foot from beneath her, sliding to her feet. “You read my mother’s diary so you know that everyone warned her about him, but she didn’t listen. He visited for her wedding, brought expensive gifts, but he took more than he gave. After that, he didn’t come back for eighteen years.”

  She reaches down to the water, running her hand through the wash. “My mother kept it a secret, but he realized the truth as soon as he saw me. He said I had his eyes.”

  “Is that why he tried to kill you?”

  “He had no children. There was no elven heir. He could not allow me or my brother—filthy gargoyles—to make a claim for the elven throne. He grabbed my wing… broke it… I screamed and my mother ran in…”

  She covers her face with her hands. Stands very still for a long time. Tears seep from beneath her hands, but she wipes them away.

  “Elyria,” I w
hisper. “You didn’t deserve that to happen to you.”

  She takes a deep breath, swallowing, focusing on the waterfall for a moment before she finds her equilibrium again. “What’s important now are the consequences.”

  She surprises me by dropping to her knees in front of me, taking my hands. Her palms are still wet with her tears. She asks me, “Whose soul made you the Gargoyle Queen?”

  I whisper, “Yours.”

  “I was the heir to both kingdoms.”

  I gasp. “You’re not seriously telling me…”

  “You are the heir to the elven throne. You are Queen of both worlds.”

  31. Marbella Mercy

  I am frozen. I’m sure my heart has stopped beating. I barely hear her next words.

  “It’s why the Elven Command has been so desperate to kill you.”

  “But how… did they even know? You killed everyone who knew: the King, his wife, his advisors, thousands of elves…”

  She presses her lips together, suddenly trembling. “After Grayson’s mother had her vision, the Elven Commanders sought every means possible to take over the deep springs. After a time, they turned their sights on me. They thought the storm power would get them through the gargoyle’s defenses. So one night, fifteen years ago, before you became the Storm Princess, Gideon Glory stole into my mind to find out what I really was and how to control me. He saw all the secrets of my past.”

  A tear trickles down her cheek. “But it was not what he saw that truly devastated me. My secrets are awful but they are nothing compared to who he killed to give himself power to see my thoughts.”

  Her hands shake around mine. Her emotions are making me afraid. Like the other Commanders, Gideon’s sorcery was always fed by death. He killed Mai to create the marriage curse. Now Elyria is trying to tell me about someone who died fifteen years ago… when I was… ten years old…

  I force the single word to spill from my tongue. “Who?”