by Everly Frost
I whisper, “What do you know?”
His smile remains. “The gargoyle who became the storm, who gave her life to become the destructive force that killed your elven King… she was Supreme Incorruptible. The heir to the throne. She was royalty.”
The Storm was a Princess? But… how… what…? I can’t even identify which question screams at me first.
His arms tighten again, one hand rubbing my back between my shoulder blades, easing out the sudden tension in my torso. “Now sleep.”
True to my promise, I don’t ask any more questions, even though I burn with them. The Storm, my Storm, my Elyria with the broken wing, was royalty.
Despite the tornado of questions churning at the back of my mind, the soothing motion of his hand on my back is impossible to ignore. My eyes drift closed. My breathing slows. I fall asleep in the arms of this ferocious gargoyle.
21
I wake to Cassian pulling my shirt back over my arms. His wings still seal us in and I’m glad for that because otherwise I’d be putting on quite a show right now. He buttons up the front even though my fingers have thawed and I could do it myself.
When I’m fully clothed, he says, “The sun is up.”
The seal breaks and the morning air rushes in. He slips over the hammock’s edge, spreads his wings to stay afloat, and shakes them out, rolling his shoulders and turning his neck side to side. Then he drops out of sight.
I lean over the edge, watching him go. Just as he reaches the ground, another gargoyle swoops in from the Cavity’s entrance, someone I haven’t seen before. Cassian stiffens as the newcomer speaks. The conversation finishes when Cassian gives the stranger a curt nod, and then the other gargoyle flies away.
I look up to find my whole team waiting for me to speak. They look like they barely slept.
“I’m okay,” I say, guilt spreading through me as I wonder how long they stayed awake and on guard during the night. There was no way I could have given them a signal though. I was completely sealed in.
Llion looks relieved. “I’m very glad to see it, Lady Storm.”
“What’s going on down there?”
Far below, Cassian has called a number of guards into a group.
Llion shakes his head. “I guess we’ll find out. Are you ready?”
The flight down is too short for my liking. The other team leaders are already there, herded into a group by the guards. The closer I get to the ground, the more agitated Cassian seems to become.
As soon as we set down, Cassian speaks to everyone. “There will be no mining for three days.” He waits a moment for the news to sink in. “The King has declared a celebration in honor of finding the Lightsworn Heartstone. He will be sending extra food. You may all rest and eat.”
He spins to me, the stern lines back on his face. Any hint of the protective personality I saw the night before has disappeared. He is General Cassian again. “Except you, Princess.”
Instinctively, I recoil, bumping into Llion. My friend steadies me, his reassuring hands remaining on my arms. Jasper edges toward me through the group. I haven’t had a chance to speak with him in days.
Cassian’s delivery of the next news is flat and unemotional. “You have been called to the Palace.” He glares at Jasper as Jasper reaches my side. “Alone.”
“When?”
“Now.”
Instinctively, I catch Jasper’s hand. Howl is calling me back. No doubt to gloat about his new toy. If my face is as expressive as it looked the other day, then there’s no disguising the contempt I feel right now. Despite my lost storm power, I feel stronger than when I left Crimson Court.
I ask, “Will you be coming with me, General Cassian?”
“Yes.”
Of course. He goes where I go. I probably shouldn’t feel this way, but it’s a comfort that he’s coming with me. Especially if I wake up in the night and need help again. Hopefully that won’t happen since it took a heartstone to wake me from my icy sleep the first time. “When you’re ready then.”
A smile ghosts around his mouth, quickly hidden. He signals the waiting guards and they bring the large crate I arrived in. I squeeze Jasper’s hand before I clamber inside. “Use the time wisely,” I whisper to him and Llion.
“We will.”
My team’s concerned faces are my final view before a guard closes the hatch and the crate rises into the air.
I tumble out of the basket onto the grass right outside Harem Hall. The only advantage to being transported in the basket is that it was dark inside and allowed my eyes to adjust to the brighter sunlight. Steely-eyed guards watch my every move as I straighten my clothes. At least I’m not in a dress this time, although something tells me that’s not going to last.
Cassian looms over me, grabbing my arm, making me wince. His jaw clenches. If there was a hint of a smile before, it’s long gone. He growls, keeping it low, “Don’t forget where you are.”
It’s a warning. I paste a suitably terrified expression on my face, although my wince is real. But the fact is… I’m not afraid of Cassian anymore. He had plenty of chances to hurt me and didn’t. I’m not afraid and… I don’t think he wants me to be.
I stumble across the grass as he pushes me through the line of guards. He isn’t allowed beyond that line, so he shoves me toward the steps where two females I don’t recognize wait to take me inside. I follow them without speaking, passing through the opulent rooms at the front of the building.
Like last time, they direct me to the bathroom first. After I’ve washed and dressed in a clean robe, they lead me to the room at the back where the females dress.
I stop short. The room is empty. “Where are the others?”
One of the females directs me to a chair and the other starts brushing my hair. “Where are Carmen and Gilda?”
The one brushing my hair places a finger against her lips. Okay, so they can’t talk to me, but now I’m worried about the two females who brought me provisions. I sit surrounded by anxiety while they put my hair up into an intricate design that allows long strands to fall across one shoulder. So far they haven’t presented me with a dress. My gaze darts around the room. I don’t see one anywhere. But they’re clearly getting me ready for something.
I take a moment to check myself in the mirror and I’m startled by what I see. My skin is pale, translucent from top to bottom, even my hair is a lighter shade of auburn. My eyes are washed-out green, glinting with an edge they didn’t have before. My shoulders and upper arms are defined with visible muscles, but my lips are brighter red, flushing darker when I press them together. Could all of this be a consequence of being underground and working hard for the last month? Or more to do with the way I turn into ice when the moon is out?
The females finish their work and leave without a word. I remain in my seat, not sure what to expect or do. So much time passes that I eventually slouch forward, leaning on the mirrored bench in front of me.
A sixth sense warns me and I glance up into the mirror.
“I’ve missed you, little doll.”
I glide from the chair, ready to face Howl as he prowls into the room, making it seem small and cramped. He rolls his broad shoulders back, displaying his wings and the now multi-colored veins running through them, some green, some blue. A second heartstone—this one the color of an icy blue pond—rests next to the first. It’s their colors that intertwine through his wings.
I draw myself up to my full height. Not very tall or intimidating but, hey, I can try. He pulls up short, mid-stride inside the room. His harsh gaze moves from my head to my bare feet.
“How curious,” he says. “Cassian was right.”
“About what?”
“You’ve changed.”
I circle around him as he approaches so that he remains at the same distance. This seems to amuse him. “I heard you had a difficult night last night.”
Cassian must have told him everything. I’m guessing that was the deal: watch over me and report back. “It wasn�
��t the first.”
“I suspected the heartstone’s awakening might cause you some pain. You may not have your power anymore, but deep magic will always recognize itself.”
I frown. He seems to think my bad night was purely because of the heartstone. It had started that way, but the rest of it wasn’t. Maybe Cassian didn’t tell him everything after all. Maybe Cassian is smart enough not to tell him everything. Howl interprets my scowl as an unwillingness to admit weakness.
“Don’t fret, little doll. It hurt me too. Holding a heartstone for the first time is like… well… connecting with lightning. You would know what that feels like.”
Painful. Terrifying. I hope it hurt him a lot.
“Why am I here?” I haven’t been able to maintain the distance between us and before I know it, I’m pinned in the corner. I smother a sigh. At least I tried.
“Your old friends want to see you.” He runs his fingers through my hair, brushing my shoulders, making my skin crawl. “But first you need to get dressed.”
He retrieves a dress from across a chair next to the door. When he returns, he says, “This is for you.”
He holds up a garment that resembles the kind of dress that females in the Major elven Houses wear to big events. And I mean big events. Like Major House weddings or the appointment of a new Elven Commander. The last Elven Commander appointed was Pedr Bounty. His appointment happened soon after I became the Storm Princess and I still remember the stir I caused when I refused to wear the dress that the most senior Elven Commander, Elwyn Elder, presented to me—somehow I knew even then that I couldn’t accept their gifts or be seen to owe them anything.
In typical Howl style, the dress plunges low at the front but its structured shape tells me there’s a corset under the bodice. The material is fine silver, satin, long, with silver filigree and pale gemstones in a floral pattern to the waist where the material streams outward.
“This too.” Hanging around his wrist, dangling like a bracelet, is a tiara that sparkles with white diamonds.
I eye both the dress and tiara with increasing concern. He said I was meeting old friends. I thought he meant Baelen and the Phoenix. Now I’m not so sure.
He looks very pleased with himself when he says, “You can’t get into this dress on your own. You’ll need help.”
It doesn’t take a genius to see where he’s going with this. It seems this is make-Marbella-strip month. Howl has mauled me enough that I’m not surprised. What does surprise me is that I’m not afraid of him. It’s an unexpected realization. I’ve spent the last month deep underground surrounded by fierce gargoyles who have proven that they are loyal to each other and willing to help each other, despite what Howl has done to them. Despite the threats the guards pose on a daily basis, they’ve never used their bone lashes. Of course, the gargoyles haven’t given the guards any reason to take violent action, but even so I find myself holding a shred of hope and faith for the first time.
I take a moment to consider my options—fight Howl, which will inevitably lead to him using his new Heartstone and all sorts of other unpleasantness or swallow my pride and save my fight for later. Just when I decide that a fight is worth it, Howl clicks his fingers and the two females race back into the room.
I guess he didn’t fancy himself a handmaid after all. He hands the dress to them and draws up a chair at the other side of the room to watch.
The first female immediately instructs me to put my arms down at my sides. I’m not sure how that’s going to work—I still have a robe and underwear on. But I do it anyway. She and the other female hold the dress high above my head and slip it over me, robe and all. As I suspected, it contains a corset. But the pleasant surprise is that with the back fully unlaced, the dress itself turns into a screen around me.
The two females hold the dress in place as I wriggle around inside it removing my shirt and bra and then my long pants.
Huh. Take that Howl. No peep show for you. He seems amused, rather than disgruntled, stretching his legs out in front of him, lips curled into a half-grin as he watches me struggle not to reveal anything. Something has made him extra happy today. I should probably worry about what that is.
I decide to distract him with talk just in case his mood changes. “No chains this time?”
“No,” he says. “You already know what’s at stake.”
The two females stiffen slightly before returning to the task of tying me into the dress. Howl’s threat hangs in the air. The last time I was here, Howl threatened to kill Carmen and Gilda if I stepped out of line. I don’t know these new females very well, but they could be the wives of any of the gargoyles I met in the mine.
“I do,” I say, more for their sake than his.
They pin the tiara to the top of my head and last of all, hand me a pair of flats. Thank goodness, no heels this time. The corset makes up as a torture device, pushing my breasts up so they’re in danger of popping out.
When I’m fully dressed, Howl lurches upward and flicks his head to the door. I thank the females before following him out. As we walk, Howl drops beside me and then slightly behind, resting his hand on my lower back in a possessive gesture.
When we exit the building, Cassian paces at the guard line. His wings are angled forward and his boots stamp the turf. On the surface, he appears impatient, but as I pause on the balcony, I sense… fear?
For himself or me?
His eyes meet mine across the distance. Agonized. Desperate. Flicking to Howl and back to me.
Fear for me.
Surprise shoots through me as his gaze assesses me, checking my status, searching for signs of abuse. I hold myself high and aloof to disguise my shock at his concern. I glide down the stairs after Howl. The other guards are well trained and don’t spare me a second look as they walk in a line on each side of us, but Cassian takes up a close position behind me.
The sun is well up in the sky now but a breeze helps keep me cool. It looks like we’re headed to Crimson Court, but then Howl changes direction, leading me along a wide pathway that ascends through a thick forest of trees.
A palace looms in the distance, built partially into the side of the mountain, eerily camouflaged against the dark gray rock. As the pathway winds through the thinning trees, the palace catches the light in different ways making it look like it conforms into the mountain itself.
Rows of guards stand watch outside it, peering at us as we pass through the wide open door but none of them follow us inside. Even the guards who came with us file off before we reach the door. As Howl leads me through hallway after hallway, it’s difficult to gauge the sheer size of the structure. It must have taken all of Howl’s ten-year rule to build it.
Finally, we stop inside an ante-room facing a large wooden door elaborately decorated with the silhouette of a golden panther. Howl squeezes my waist and tells me to wait with Cassian before he disappears inside. Voices—mostly male—float out before the door closes again.
Cassian catches my arm, his question sharp and urgent. “Did he scent you?”
Scent me? That thing the gargoyles do when they inhale? Before I lost my power, Howl literally inhaled the storm into himself whenever he had the chance, but he has no reason to do that now. “I don’t think so.”
“Don’t let him.”
“Why?” I tilt my head back, trying to figure out why he’s so unsettled. The night before, he’d told me a secret about the Storm. Something only he knew. Now I wonder what new secret he’s keeping… “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Your storm power hid it before. But if Howl catches your true scent…” He releases my arm, resuming his former position at my elbow as footsteps sound on the other side of the door. “He’ll kill you.”
The wide doors swing apart and Howl fills the opening, spreading his wings in an elaborate gesture. I can’t see them yet, but I sense people in the room behind him—a large room—along with an expectant silence.
The half-grin that Howl has been wearing for the l
ast half an hour widens into pure delight. Shudders shoot down my spine at the sight. In the space of one breath, Cassian has told me Howl will kill me and Howl has appeared wearing a grin that drips with malice and anticipation.
“Little doll,” Howl says, “Come and see your old friends.”
He sweeps his wings aside, revealing two males standing at a distance behind him. They are regal in robes that meet the floor, their lips stretched into smiles while their cold eyes are daggers. The last time I saw them, they’d killed Baelen and were trying to take my storm power.
Howl leans into me. “I think you know Elwyn Elder and Pedr Bounty. They came to see whether you’re dead yet.”
22
I never ever thought I would see elves in Howl’s palace. Maybe in my worst nightmare, they would be here as prisoners. But that they’re here as guests to see firsthand Howl’s imprisonment of me is beyond my greatest horror.
The world spins, the contents of my stomach shift, and I suddenly lose the ability to breathe. The room is lined with equal numbers of Howl’s guards and elven soldiers, all dressed in armor. Each Elven Commander is joined by a small entourage of elves—advisors and personal staff—casually clustered behind them, sipping from glasses of wine.
Further inside the room, an enormous table filled with food takes center stage. Serving staff wearing the Slave Station uniform wait patiently at the other end of the room and near them are the females from Harem Hall, dressed more demurely than the last time I saw them. Now they wear long dresses, not transparent this time.
The two Elven Commanders move only to speak, while for me, everything is spinning.
“We thought she would be in chains,” Elwyn Elder says, clearly unhappy about my unbound state. I wonder if Howl has told them I lost my powers—if not, it would explain why they are uneasy about me being free.
“And not quite so well dressed.” Pedr Bounty’s eyes narrow. He was always the bulkiest of the Commanders—broad-shouldered and imposing.
