Storm Princess 2: The Princess Must Strike

by Everly Frost

  I don’t know how any of that is possible, but I do know that Cassian told me she was royal and then he brought her to see me.

  My heart leaps. Elyria can use the royal heartstone. She can use the stone against Howl, strike him down, fight him, and he won’t be able to stop her—

  Except… she can’t.

  My hope fades, plummeting so hard, so fast, that tears fill my eyes. The Storm swore never to harm a gargoyle. She already tried to stop Howl once. She told me so herself. She may be able to pick up the heartstone, but she can’t use it to help us.

  Everyone is waiting for me to speak. Cassian hasn’t taken his eyes off me and I’m sure I’m a display of intense emotions right now: all the way from wonder to hope to… smashed and crushed.

  “It can’t be done.” My final emotion isn’t lost on the other gargoyles. I don’t mean it to have this result, but they respond to my grief with protective anger, knowing only that Cassian has caused it.

  Erit pushes forward, nearly barreling into Cassian. “Why are you here? You’re not one of us.” Erit’s wing daggers angle forward, an aggressive gesture, and I’m reminded that he’s from the Grievous Clan who settle their disputes with violence.

  I push between them before Erit does something dangerous. “Erit, listen to me, General Cassian is subject to Howl’s whims just like the rest of us.”

  Erit doesn’t back off, turning on me in confusion but not in anger. His expression softens as he digests my earnest speech. “Why are you defending him?”

  “Because he saved my life.” The space between them is so small that I press back against Cassian, my arms pushed against either side of him. “He saved my life when he didn’t have to.”

  Cassian’s voice rumbles in his chest, a quiet statement murmured at my ear. “You don’t have to protect me, Princess. He’s correct. I don’t have any right to be here.”

  “But…”

  He places me to the side, putting me away from him, and faces the others, his wings tucked tight, wing daggers held carefully back, palms out, non-threatening. It occurs to me that he hasn’t worn his bone lash for the last three days. He says, “When the sun comes up, everything changes. You have to decide whether you’re going to fight or give up. Either way…” His blazing eyes meet mine before he turns away. “The Princess must not die.”

  They part for him as he strides away, his steps turning into a run before he spreads his wings and soars away into the dark mine beyond.

  “What happens now?” Roar asks, always the leader, focusing everyone back on task.

  “First I need you to tell me what happened with Rhain. Howl can carry a heartstone around without any harm to himself, so why couldn’t Rhain? Howl used to be a gargoyle just like you, didn’t he?”

  Roar says, “He was, Lady Storm. But a violent one. He killed the King years before he got hold of a heartstone and he terrorized our people even without it.”

  “By brute force,” Llion adds. “And a Grievous army backing him.” He clears his throat. “I mean no offense to our clan, Erit. We are the proof that not all Grievous follow Howl.”

  It was easy to forget that both Erit and Llion were born into the Grievous Clan. They are both such dedicated, loyal, and surprisingly kind gargoyles.

  “No offence taken,” Erit replies. He folds his arms across his chest. “I can tell you what happened to Rhain, Lady Storm, because he was my friend.”

  He tucks his wings tight into his sides. I recognize the gesture as self-protective. The gargoyles might not know they’re doing it, but they pull their wings close when they’re facing something difficult.

  Erit says, “The short version is that he found the heartstone and was ordered to place it in a wooden box without touching it, which he obeyed. When he heard that Howl was coming to Mount Virtuous to get it, Rhain became very agitated. He knew that if Howl got the stone, he’d be unstoppable. So Rhain killed the guards and flew off with the box. But he also knew that Howl would kill Carmen in retaliation, so he went to free her, to escape together.”

  Erit exhales, sighing into the quiet around us. The way he clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides tells me he’s fighting to remain impassive, unemotional, as he recounts what happened to his friend. “Howl caught them and Rhain opened the box. As soon as he touched the stone, he collapsed. That was the end of it.” He clears his throat. “That’s the short version.”

  I know what the long version involves: the aftermath, the consequences, Rhain losing his wings, his wife forced to remain in Harem Hell. I wipe away my tears. “Thank you, Erit. You’ve helped a lot, because now I know why the heartstone didn’t hurt Howl.”

  “Lady Storm?”

  “Howl told me that a heartstone awakens at first touch. The first surge of deep magic is like lightning: powerful, angry, and ferocious. I know because I went through it when I became the Storm Princess.”

  I shake my head, trying to dislodge the memories that flood back into me: memories of light pouring around me and unimaginable pain, but nothing so bad as my heart being torn apart because I believed that Baelen was dying in front of me while I couldn’t help him.

  My voice catches as I continue. “Rhain awoke the Virtuous Heartstone. He took the brunt of its first force. If Howl had touched it first, he would have collapsed too.”

  I wait for this information to sink in before continuing. “When Howl awoke Lightsworn’s heart the other day, it hurt him, but didn’t knock him unconscious because he already had a heartstone to protect him.”

  Llion, Roar, Erit, Badenoch, all of the gargoyles catch on at the same time. “After the first touch, any gargoyle can use the heartstone.”

  Jasper finishes for them, “Including the heartstones that Howl already has.”

  “Yes,” I say, a small smile breaking across my previous sadness. “Now… I’d suggest that one of you takes the brunt of the awakening right now so we can use Prime’s heart against Howl immediately, but the problem is… Howl will feel it. The same way I felt Lightsworn’s heart awaken the other night. As soon as he feels it, he will descend on us with his entire army in tow. For now, he doesn’t know we’ve found a heartstone.” I pause again, hoping they will follow me. “Right now, we control the outcome.”

  “What is your plan?”

  I answer Roar’s question with a question. “Do you all trust Llion?”

  Llion himself shoots surprise my way. He won’t understand yet why I’m asking, but I intend to make it clear very soon.

  Roar looks around, checking every single gargoyle here. Jasper nods too and I know his support is not lost on Llion since they haven’t exactly been best buddies from the start. Llion still calls Jasper ‘Twisted Metal,’ but I sense that Jasper no longer minds.

  Roar says, “We trust Llion without question.”

  “Then here’s what we need to do.”

  Hours later, Llion flies me back up into the Cavity. Each team leader has quietly woken their team in turns, explained the plan, and got all of them on board. Meanwhile, Iago and a team of gargoyles have been hard at work fashioning the things we need from wood and metal, working deep inside the mine where the sound won’t carry to the sleeping guards in the Cavity. To Llion I gave the task of creating weapons for us—weapons that don’t look like weapons.

  “That is a difficult task,” he said to me.

  I raised my eyebrows in a mock challenge. “I was told you could make a weapon out of anything.”

  He grinned. “I can.”

  Now, despite the adrenaline still shooting through me, I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept all night and I won’t make it to the next one without collapsing if I don’t rest. All of the gargoyles need to use the last hours of the night to sleep as long as they can.

  Llion carries me in the direction of my hammock. Our group has crept back in stages so we don’t wake the guards. I tug on Llion’s arm before we pass the Cavity’s center, whispering, “I need to see Cassian.” I’m a little embarrassed to ask because I don’t
know the answer to my next question. “Where does he sleep?”

  Llion halts mid-wing sweep, coasting the air for a moment. “Are you sure, Lady Storm? Can you trust him?”

  “I’m sure, Llion.”

  In response, he changes direction, soaring across to a concealed nook in the far side of the Cavity closest to Cassian’s bathing room. Llion places me down and indicates the darkened cave beyond. “Over there. But please be careful.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  “Should I wait for you?”

  “No, thank you, Llion. I will ask Cassian to fly me up to my hammock.” The worry on his face makes me pause. “I trust him, Llion.”

  He says, “Okay” But he doesn’t look convinced, shooting a suspicious glare in the direction of the shadowed cave before he takes flight again.

  I pause at the entrance. Webs light the way inside, but only to a point. I can’t see much beyond the first few paces. I wait for my eyes to adjust, finally making out vague outlines: a chair, a small table, and a hammock against the wall at the back with a figure lying in it. I can’t fly up to it so I pick up the chair, careful not to make too much noise while I carry it across, hoping there are no unseen obstacles along the way that might trip me.

  I hop onto the chair and take hold of the side of the hammock, listening to figure out if Cassian is sleeping.

  He says, “You’re here because you need my help.”

  He sweeps his wings aside and out of the way, holding them tight to his sides so he can face me.

  “Yes,” I say, gripping the hammock and struggling up into it. It swings wildly back and forth before I manage to clamber over the edge and inside. I would ask him for help to get in, but two of us moving around will only make it worse. Hammocks are made for lying in, not sitting, so I stretch myself against the outer side of it while he remains on the inner.

  I say, “I need you to carry the box to Howl.”

  “Because he won’t suspect me.”

  “Yes, but also because it means none of the miners will be singled out as making a claim to it. This only works if we all go together.”

  He knows I’m not finished. “What else?”

  “I need you to send a message to Howl convincing him that this should be a grand event. Like that day at Crimson Court. I need all the old clan leaders there: Lightsworn, Prime, Virtuous, Sunflight, Denrock, all of them. I need the old High Priestess there too, but not Baelen Rath. I can’t take the chance that he’ll wake up if I’m in danger. Can you do that?”

  “Can I encourage Howl to show off his power?” Cassian scoffs. My eyes have adjusted enough now that I can see his expression, the wry glint in his eyes, and the solemn press of his lips together before he speaks. “That won’t be difficult.”

  “Then you’ll help us?”

  “Yes.”

  I didn’t realize I was so tense until relief floods me. I really wasn’t sure if Cassian would agree to help. It means he’ll put himself in as much danger as the rest of us. Possibly more since his actions will be a betrayal of Howl.

  The hammock isn’t made for remaining at one side. I’ve slowly slipped further toward the middle as we’ve been speaking and now my right side presses against his chest and legs. There’s still one more question I have for him. “Howl let you fly away with me tonight. I honestly didn’t think he would.”

  Cassian’s expression is dark. “He will beat and torture you, but he won’t risk your death.”

  “Why not?”

  “He believes that if you die, Baelen Rath will wake up. Even if that means Baelen will die soon after, Howl fears what he will do if he wakes to find you dead.”

  “Kill Howl?”

  “Possibly.” He shifts his wings, rustling them. “Baelen Rath’s fearsome reputation precedes him. Combine that with the Storm’s power and Howl has something to fear for the first time.”

  “Thank you for telling me.” Knowing that Howl is capable of fear is a source of hope. “Can you fly me back to my hammock?”

  “No.”

  His response is so abrupt that I search his face and body language for some explanation. The faint light from the distant webs reflects depths of emotion in his eyes. The web’s similar blue color highlights every shade of his irises, accentuating each shadow that falls across his cheekbones and lips. Is he refusing to fly me back or… is he refusing to let me go back?

  He returns my questioning look with a ferocious one. He moves so fast, I have no time to react. His upper wing shoots over us, an instant cocoon, and at the same time, he rolls with it, placing one hand on either side of my head, holding himself up off me, one knee between my legs and the other outside my right knee. His body balances directly above me.

  His demand is short and swift. “Why are you in my bed?”

  I struggle to catch my breath at the sudden change of tone. “I came to ask for help.”

  “You could have stayed on that chair and asked for my help.”

  He’s right. I could have, but it seemed wrong to ask him to put his life in danger without looking him in the eyes.

  He shakes his head at me. “I’ll forgive you for not knowing our customs, Princess, but before Howl took power, before he changed everything, there was one custom of true respect that applied in every clan.”

  Tension rushes through me as he catches his own breath, his lungs expanding, causing his chest to brush against mine. He says, “The female chooses her mate. Not the other way around. Do you know how she does that?”

  My heart has stopped beating. “How?”

  “She comes to his bed.”

  I was wrong: my heart hasn’t stopped beating, it’s hammering so hard in my chest that I can’t tell the beats apart anymore. My breathing is short, rapid. I don’t know their customs. I certainly never knew anything about choosing a mate. In elven culture, marriage is arranged, public, nothing so intimate as what he’s described. How was I to know? I have no idea how many times I’ve stomped on something culturally important to them. But this…?

  “But… I’m not a gargoyle.”

  “You are to me!” His earnest declaration cuts my heart. He doesn’t see me as an elf anymore. He doesn’t see me as an outsider. He sees me as one of them. A gargoyle. A female.

  “Now here you are… in my bed,” he says. “And yet I know that your heart belongs to Baelen Rath. What am I to make of this?”

  I whisper, “You said you’d forgive me.”

  A perplexed frown sweeps his forehead. “What?”

  “You said you’d forgive me for not knowing your customs.”

  His expression softens. “I did.” He sighs. “Which is why… I’ll take what you want to give.”

  He lowers himself against me but angles for the side, sweeping his arms under me and pulling me with him so I’m lying on my side, pressed against his chest. Hooking his upper leg over mine, he sweeps his hand into my hair, smoothing it down my back in a soothing gesture. He plants a kiss on my forehead, a brief and confusingly gentle touch.

  “You will sleep here,” he says. “After tonight, you will never come back to my bed again.”

  I nod against his chest, just once. I can’t speak. My heart is a whirlwind of emotions. Cassian is like another storm to me—unpredictable, protective, surprisingly loyal, compassionate in astonishing ways. The emotions I feel for him are equally unsettling. I feel for him the same care I feel for Jasper and Llion, two males I count as true friends. And I can’t deny that if Baelen wasn’t in my life, I might see Cassian in a different light. I might see a possibility that… can’t exist because Baelen is everything to me. My heart is already spoken for.

  Cassian said that he would only take what I want to give. Right now, I want to fall asleep feeling safe, because I know that when the sun rises, I won’t be. None of us will.

  26

  I wake to hushed voices inside the entrance to the cave. I stay very still, listening, making out Llion’s silhouette opposite Cassian’s.

  Cassian says,
“She’s sleeping. I don’t want to wake her before we need to.”

  Llion’s accusation is laced with threat. “You didn’t bring her back to her hammock.”

  “She climbed into my bed.”

  There’s a pause. “Oh.”

  Cassian sighs. “She didn’t know what she was doing. Don’t worry, I didn’t take advantage.”

  There’s another pause. When Llion finally speaks, it’s a growl. “She trusts you, Cassian. Don’t betray her.” He spins on his heel, but Cassian follows him out.

  “Llion… We used to be brothers.”

  “That was before you chose to side with Howl.”

  Cassian’s wings curve forward, another self-protective gesture that I’ve come to recognize, but this one is connected with remorse. “My actions are unforgiveable. I’m trying to make up for it now.”

  “I hope you can.”

  Llion strides away and Cassian leans against the cave’s entrance, staring at the other side, basically at nothing, for a long time. It gives me a chance to wake up properly and gather my thoughts. A shot of adrenaline forces me upright when I remember what today means. I try to wriggle out of the hammock on my own, but Cassian swoops over and helps me down.

  “I sent the message to Howl,” he says. “Now I’m waiting for a response. In the meantime, I’ve ordered the guards to stay away from the heartstone or I will kill them.” He’s wearing his bone lash again. He’s already dressed in armor. “You can use my bathing room this morning. I’ve put something in there that I think you should wear today.”

  So far, he’s done all the talking, which is good, because I don’t know what to say. There are no words for what we’ll face today. I’m not sure if I’ll be alive at the end of it. I enter the bathing room, curious to see what clothing he was talking about.

  My armor.

  I run to it, checking it over. It’s in perfect condition and it’s definitely the strongest, safest thing I could wear today. “How did you…?”

  “I brought it back from the palace. The old Priestess, uh, borrowed it. You were so engrossed in the book you didn’t notice her take it. I guess you didn’t notice the satchel on my back either.”