The Princess Must Die (Storm Princess Saga Book 1)

by Jaymin Eve

  The breeze becomes stronger, strong enough to push me upward, turning me onto my side, dragging at the material around my shoulders. Something rips from my back—then the patch floats over me. It’s soaked in blood. Blood I didn’t know I was losing.

  Lightning crackles, striking the material while the wind holds it, burning it mid-air, destroying it.

  I try to call the lightning to me, but I don’t have the strength. I sink back to the floor, my hand dropping, as a bright bolt of lightning streaks from high above me, thick and white and sharp at the end that’s pointed at me.

  Before I can move, it strikes the wound in my back.

  Pain explodes through my shoulders and down my legs, burning my back, leaving me screaming. Just as suddenly, icy rain pours down around me, putting out the flames, easing to a soft patter like a sun shower. The pain eases as the ice numbs my back.

  Confused by the storm’s behavior, I open my eyes, squinting upward, but the rain shushes me.

  Your wound is cauterized, it says. Sleep now.

  I awake on the floor of the Vault. The storm’s gone. It’s quiet. Except for that annoying thumping vibration slamming through my head…

  I open one eye. My head is pounding. I’m thirsty, but the storm told me the truth: the wound in my back is nothing more than a nasty scar now.

  The thumping vibration hasn’t stopped. If anything, it’s getting worse and more erratic. I spin, frowning at the transparent panels at the side of the Vault.

  I recognize Elise. She’s pounding her fists against the paneling. Her mouth is moving as if she’s shouting but the Vault is soundproof so I can’t hear her. Something’s definitely wrong. Adrenaline shoots through me and I jump to my feet, racing to the door and pulling it open.

  “Princess!” she cries, drawing breath. “The next trial! The next test is about to start.”

  My eyes widen. “How long was I asleep?”

  “Two days. I’ve been trying to wake you…”

  “Oh no.” I’m already running, flinging open the second door. “Which way?”

  Elise is on my heels, her silken robes flying out behind her. “It was supposed to be a game of wit, but they’ve mixed things up. It’s a mass battle in the arena.”

  I skid to a halt in front of the final door. “They want us to kill each other?”

  Her face is pale. “Maim, wound, defeat, and force to yield, but not kill. Those were their words.”

  My lips curl in disgust. “Then it’s a test for a torturer.” I slam my fist into the last door, frustration and anger burning through my nerve endings. “They’re doing this because of me. Aren’t they?”

  “The whispers are that the idea originated from the House of Valor.”

  Worry shoots through me. “Did Rhydian Valor make it through the first test?”

  “With only a moment to spare. But yes, he did.”

  “Then, it’s about revenge. He’ll go after Sebastian and Jasper first for humiliating him, and then he’ll come after me.”

  Now that we’ve stopped running, Elise shakes beside me, trembling so hard I can see her arms and legs wobbling. I’ve never seen her so scared. “Elise, what is it?”

  “The other champions won’t be cloaked. They’re allowed to touch you. They’re allowed to do anything they want to force you to yield.”

  I stare back at her. Wait… anything?

  She clutches the door. “You weren’t there when the Elven Command announced the trial. Rhydian Valor asked for clarification of the rules and the Elven Command gave permission for any methods to be used. I wasn’t allowed to speak. Commander Rath was silenced. He tried to speak for the other champions as well as you. This is bad for everyone.

  “Please, Princess, I knew you’d never forgive me if I didn’t wake you, but please… don’t go to this trial.” She reaches for me and her fear is like a solid force. “Please stay here where it’s safe.”

  “Safe for how long?” The storm’s whisper echoes around my head: Your husband will kill you. “Either they cut me to shreds in this trial. Or one of them tries to kill me in the end.”

  “Cutting you isn’t the worst they could do.”

  “I know!” I scream against the wooden door. “The Elven Command is trying to force me out. They want me to be so afraid that I won’t compete. Tell me one thing: while I was asleep, did the storm rage?”

  She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen it so calm.”

  “Then I might not have its power.” I need to curse. I need to shout and scream. But more than that… “I need my armor. How much time do I have?”

  For the first time, there’s a glimmer of hope on her face. She opens the door, revealing my Storm Command waiting in a protective semi-circle. Jordan holds my armor out to me. But her face is as pale and afraid as Elise’s.

  I say, “You hoped I wouldn’t open this door.”

  “I did.”

  “Cover me, please.” They close ranks as I strip off right there, sliding out of my damaged climbing suit and into the light-as-air armor. It covers me from my neck to my toes. I feel braver inside it. Let any male try to cut his way through this.

  Elise says, “You have three minutes before they close the doors.”

  I wish I could ask her to cloak my skin, but the spells that protect the trials won’t allow any spells to be cast over me.

  I don’t have to say anything. I start running and so does my Storm Command. Two of them sprint ahead to clear my path, giving me a clear run through the courtyard and out to the arena. Crowds of elves press around the outside of the building. The upper levels must already be full. No doubt word has travelled fast and nobody wants to miss the spectacle. The onlookers obstruct the doors. If I don’t make it inside in time, it will be because of the elves outside.

  My Storm Command screams ahead of me, the tips of their spears sporting blunted covers so they can use them to push elves aside. “Out of the way! Clear the doors!”

  Elves scramble backward, hurrying to obey, whispering and pointing. “The Princess.”

  From inside the arena, someone shouts an order. I recognize Elwyn Elder’s voice amplified by the spellcasters to be heard above the noise. “One minute to go. Close the doors.”

  I’m not going to make it in time. There are too many elves in the way. But the doors are large enough that there’s space above the elves’ heads…

  “Jordan, boost!”

  She sprints ahead of me with one of my other ladies. The circle around me opens up to allow passage through the front. Jordan drops to her knee in the gap and so does the other elf, facing each other with their hands laced over their knees. I race to them and use their hands as a spring board. At the same time, they stand up beneath me, propelling me into the air.

  I fly through the gap of the closing door, angling sideways to make it through. I roll on the other side and bounce up onto my feet.

  Elwyn Elder pauses on the dais as my arrival causes a stir. His hand hangs mid-air as if he was about to give the signal to begin. He’s definitely not happy to see me.

  An hourglass rests on a table beside him. It’s full of sand at the top which already drizzles to the bottom. I’m guessing that means our time has started. It’s too late for me to scream a veto at Rhydian Valor. Even if I could, eliminating him won’t do me much good—he has too many friends.

  The arena has been set up so that there’s a protective shield around the dais at one end—a grand viewing area for the Elven Command. The rest of the crowd sits high above me on the upper levels, also protected by a shield. I’m assuming that’s in case of wayward arrows.

  Down at floor level, the space has been spellcast to resemble a forest. The other champions stand at intervals around the arena. I count twelve, including Baelen, Jasper, and Sebastian. I take note of Rhydian Valor, especially the fact that he seems to have been placed in an advantageous spot behind a boulder where he can take cover.

  Well, I guess that makes me lucky thirteen.

  “Princes
s,” Elwyn says, his voice still amplified. “We thought you were too injured to continue.”

  I stride through the grassy, green forest, twisting between the spreading trees and sparkling moss. It would be all unicorns and rainbows in this place if it wasn’t for the blood about to be shed.

  I don’t have the advantage of a spellcaster to make my voice heard, but as I reach the dais, I give it my best shot. “You mean you hoped I was.”

  My comment draws gasps from the crowd, but I’m beyond caring. I ignore Elwyn’s spluttering and lift my arms in defiance at the other champions.

  “Well now, which of you boys is going to be brave enough to attack me first? Because we all know that’s why we’re here.”

  Despite my bravado, I have a big problem: I don’t have a weapon.

  That’s okay, Marbella, I tell myself. You’ll just have to steal one. And let it have metal in it.

  12

  Nobody moves.

  Rhydian licks his lips and disgust crawls all over me. Off to my left, Baelen watches him and at least five other males whose grins make me want to throw up.

  I can see Baelen calculating each move, every step to get to them before they get to me. He’s wearing fine armor and carrying multiple daggers, a sword, and a bow and arrows at his back. His hands twitch to the dagger at his hip every time he looks at Rhydian. Bae may have spoken up against this trial, but now that we’re here, maiming the other male won’t be enough.

  His gaze meets mine for a moment and the ferocity in his face scares me. He’s barely Bae right now. He’s a Rath to his bones and the other males don’t know what they’ve asked for. He’s just waiting for them to make a move and give him an excuse.

  “Come on!” I scream, my chest heaving and fists clenched. There’s lightning inside me. I can feel it under my skin. The same way there’s a gargoyle’s growl in my throat. I just need a way to let it out. I just need a weapon.

  I roar at the other males. “You can either get a piece of me now or when one of you wins. Let’s get on with it.”

  Sebastian’s in a defensive position—he and Baelen seem to have figured out some way of signaling each other—but Jasper…

  I do a double take. Jasper’s actually smiling. Nope, more like grinning like an elven cat.

  “Holy lurking shadow panthers!” he shouts, drawing attention away from me. He leaves his position beside a spreading oak and strides toward me with a gusty laugh.

  “Listen to the mouth on this female.” He bellows each word, laughing as he goes. “I, for one, would rather take her for life than have a small piece right now and let it be the last.”

  He’s got within ten feet of me without anyone stopping him, close enough I can see the dagger he’s lifting out of the scabbard at his waist. Holy lurking shadow panthers, he hasn’t forgotten what I did with the last dagger I held and he knows I need a weapon.

  His mouth might be laughing, but his eyes aren’t. That’s the Jasper I know. With a flick of his wrist, he pitches the weapon neatly into the ground at my feet.

  “Which is why…” The grin drops off his face as he turns to the others, drawing his sword. “Anyone who wants a piece of her goes through me first.”

  As I leap forward to pluck the dagger out of the ground, I break the stand-off. Rhydian’s five lackeys charge toward me but Baelen’s plan is as clear as the moss sparkling on the stones beside those beautiful trees. Jasper and I are the not-so-helpless bait. Baelen and Sebastian are the predators. The other males, well, they’re the mush in between.

  I pick up the dagger as the first male reaches me. It looks like Rhydian is cunning enough to let someone else take the first shot so he can figure out my weaknesses.

  I’m pleased to discover that my new weapon is made entirely of steel. Electricity shrieks through my arm, lighting up the dagger, my hand, and my torso. The high-pitched crackling sizzles a warning and Jasper’s smart enough to side-step and stay out of harm’s way. He allows the attacking male through but that’s fine with me. I greet my attacker with a snarl and an armored foot to his face. The shimmer husks lining my armor may as well be iron cracking across his cheekbone.

  He stumbles backward and I give him one last chance. Don’t get up.

  The fool jumps back to his feet, dagger drawn, aiming for my shoulder. My lightning illuminates his face as he flies toward me.

  He’s aiming high so I drop to my knees, driving my dagger into his left thigh. His scream is drowned by the shriek of electricity. I use my free fist to thump his other kneecap. I can’t hurt his knee through his armor, but I push both his legs out from under him, using his forward momentum and the strength of the storm to flip him bodily over me. He lands with a crash onto his back.

  By then, Jasper fights two other males and Baelen and Sebastian are battling another four. Rhydian is still keeping at a distance from all of them. He’s not the only one staying back: another male hasn’t moved from his position right at the end of the arena. None of the other males are bothering with the loner and I don’t have time to identify him.

  Before my attacker can recover, I slide across the floor, banging against the shield that protects the dais, and bounce off it. On the dais, the Elven Command jumps backward. Elwyn Elder moves so fast that he knocks over his chair. The hourglass wobbles and one of them grabs it before it smashes.

  I drop to the male’s side, holding the dagger in both hands, ready to plunge it into his heart. I recognize him now. “Garrett of the House of Glory. Do you yield? Or would you rather bleed to death?”

  He clutches his thigh, trying to stop the flow of blood. His efforts aren’t doing him much good. He’s lost his dagger and I draw his sword before he can reach for it too. Now there are two blazing weapons in my hands. I keep at the barest safe distance from him so that I don’t electrocute him.

  Despite the threat in front of him, all he can do is stare beyond me to the Elven Command where the powerful males watch from so close by, protected by their spellcast shield. Gideon Glory takes a step forward, his robes floating around him. The fury on his face is like a dagger itself.

  The penny drops. Each member of the Elven Command has a grandson in the arena. All of them are fighting against me right now except for Sebastian Splendor.

  I shout at Garrett, “What did your grandfather tell you? What did Gideon Glory order you to do?”

  The male looks at me and it’s like he’s seeing me for the first time. “You weren’t supposed to be here. They wanted to force you out.”

  “I got that already. What else?”

  He sucks in a breath, groaning and in pain. “They ordered us to take Commander Rath out by any means necessary. They don’t want him to win.”

  Behind me, a male crashes across the arena and Baelen thunders after him, loosing arrows at the same time.

  I swing back to Garrett. The Elven Command would always have a Plan B. “And what if I came to the fight? What then?”

  “May the ancients forgive me, my grandfather told me to take your power. The first male you touch will have your power. He told me… He ordered me…”

  I throw my head back and scream. “He told you a lie. My power will kill you.”

  I slam the dagger into the earth beside his neck. Lightning leaps from my hands and zaps his skin. It’s the lightest touch, but he flinches, scooting away from me to escape the deadly energy.

  Despite the threat, he shakes his head. “No, it’s true. He said you’re different. You’re not like the other Princesses. He said that one of us has to claim you and…” His eyes flick to the fighting males. “It can’t be Baelen Rath.”

  The Phoenix told me I was something else. Now I know why that sounded like a really bad thing. When I nominated myself for the trials, the Elven Command was unprepared. But while I was away on the mountain, they had the chance to think and plan. They had time to change the rules—because I changed them first. I opened that door and now they’re running through it. Baelen told me he was a target. Now we both are.
>
  “If you truly believe that you can take my power, then do it.” I hold out my bare hand to him. It’s bathed in energy that crackles at the edges, leaping beyond my palm in strikes and flashes. “Take my hand.”

  He reaches for me even though it means letting go of his wound. I can’t believe it. He actually believes what his grandfather told him. He’s going to try…

  At the last moment, lightning leaps out and bites his hand. He cries out and snaps his hand back, nursing it and trying to press his wound again. His face is seriously pale. He’s lost a lot of blood and won’t last much longer at this rate.

  I say, “That is what happens if you touch me. Now tell me that you yield.” I slam the dagger into the ground again, closer this time. “Tell me that you yield!”

  “I yield!” His voice cracks as his eyes meet those of his furious grandfather. “The House of Glory yields.”

  Inside the shield, Gideon Glory is like ice. He turns his back on his grandson. I jump to my feet and slam my fist against the shield. Lightning travels through it, bending and wobbling it so much that Gideon flinches back in alarm. If I struck it hard enough, I’m sure I could break through, and he knows it.

  I shout at him, disgusted that he turned away from his injured family member. “Come and get your grandson before he dies.”

  Then I take both weapons and spin to the battle raging behind me. Of the four elves who were fighting Baelen and Sebastian, only two remain standing. They’re both large males and they’re putting up a solid fight. The other two have dragged themselves to the side of the arena, badly wounded, seeking safety away from the battle.

  The two fighting Jasper haven’t given up so easily.

  I launch myself at one of them, shoving him aside. I’m careful not to touch him with my bare hand, connecting only with his armor, but I allow electricity to flow through me for a second before I release him. He shudders, shaking as he collapses to the ground. He’s alive, but he’s not in good shape. I’d love to zap the other male too, but I’m angry enough to kill him. Despite the chaos, the Elven Command ordered that nobody can be killed. If I break that rule, they’ll force me out of the trials. Which is exactly what they want.