by Everly Frost
“I was busy focusing on a safe getaway from Howl.” I chew my lip, trying to find a way to tell him that this armor could mean the difference between life and death for me today. That it is a priceless gift. What I end up saying is far from what I feel. “Thank you. I will wear this today.”
He accepts that, but before he leaves, I ask, “Did you let Llion go?”
He blinks at me. “What?”
“Llion told me that after he thought his wife died, you were supposed to kill him.”
Cassian shifts, uncomfortable, as I continue. “But you threw him into prison instead and I’m guessing… it wasn’t the most well-guarded prison. So I want to know: did you let him go?”
His expression is answer enough. He stares at the floor for a moment before he turns and leaves me in privacy. I suddenly realize that that might be the last private conversation I have with him. Everything is in place and ready. He’s agreed to his part in it. I lurch after him, not sure what else I want to say, but he’s already disappeared.
The next two hours are the longest of my life. Finally, at lunchtime, a messenger arrives and Cassian resumes his authoritative persona as he strides into the food hall, the messenger in tow. “Listen up! Howl expects to receive the Prime Heartstone at Crimson Court this afternoon. I expect you all ready to fly in an hour.”
He glares around the room, tapping his bone lash. “If any of you attempt to touch the heartstone before we leave, you will lose your head.”
A deathly silence follows him out. I lean across to Llion, “Get ready.” My voice wobbles. I want to say more but words fail me.
“Don’t worry, Lady Storm.” He places his hand over mine, strong and comforting. My team nods around me: Roar, Iago, and Welsian. Across the way, Jasper and Badenoch are waiting for my signal. “We know what to do.”
“It’s time,” I say, meaning so much more than that it’s time to get ready. It’s time for Howl to end.
As a swarm, the gargoyles stand up, quiet and resolute, and scatter in the directions they need to go. Jasper catches my arm before I leave, waiting for the food hall to empty around us.
“You’re very quiet,” he says. It’s been a long time since we spoke alone. I haven’t told him about Elyria yet—there hasn’t been a chance but I know I have to take the opportunity now.
“I saw Elyria at the palace.”
His expression softens. He’s the only other person who can see Elyria and speak with her and he’s the first person she opened up to before we were separated. “How is she?”
“Not good, Jasper. Howl is violent and cruel. I can only imagine the things she’s seen.”
“She can’t fight back.” He grips my hands, sudden and determined. “We’ll do the fighting for her.”
I try to swallow past the lump in my throat. “I came here to save Baelen. Now I need to save an entire race of gargoyles.” I hang my head, the weight of responsibility heavy across my back and shoulders. “What if I fail?”
He pulls me into a hug. A month ago, I would have frozen up in complete shock at the contact. Now I melt into it, needing the assurance that I’m on the right path and that he’s willing to walk it with me.
“Marbella,” he murmurs. “You’ve already won.” He pulls back with a steely glint in his eyes. “Now get ready.”
I head straight for the bathing room and pull on my armor, brushing my hair back and braiding it tightly to keep it out of my face. Once my boots and gloves are on, I stride from the room feeling different, feeling like I still have the storm inside me.
Outside, I find the gargoyles all lined up and ready.
They have no armor, but they do have sturdy boots and they’re all wearing shirts for the first time, some tucked in to their long pants with belts made of rope. If they’re surprised to see me in armor, they hide it well.
“Princess,” Cassian orders. “You will come with me to retrieve the heartstone.”
The messenger seems surprised when I slide down the ladder at the side of the mineshaft. I’m pretty quick about it now, the thick gloves protecting my hands and the slides on the inner sides of my boots making fast work of the downward descent.
Reaching the fifth tunnel, Cassian wastes no time taking the messenger into the cave we discovered. A single wooden box rests on one of the crests.
Last night we removed the Queen’s heart with a very long pair of pliers wrapped in leather—just in case the touch of metal set off the heartstone—and placed it in a second wooden box, locking and burying it under rubble at the back of the cave. Even if Howl wins today, every miner has vowed that if they survive, they will return to this cave to collapse it, bury the Queen’s heart forever, and never tell anyone what we found.
Cassian slides the wooden box containing Prime’s heart into a leather satchel that he carries attached to the straps crisscrossing his armor. He slides it onto his back and we return to the Cavity where the miners and guards are all waiting.
“Fly out!” Cassian orders.
As a single, coordinated unit, the miners take to the air and the guards follow, leaving me to scramble into yet another crate. Cassian locks the hatch. Within moments we’re airborne and all I can see are the light changes—soft blue changing to bright yellow as we fly into the sun.
When we reach our destination, all my emotions are tucked away, honed into a pinpoint focus: Howl.
I roll out of the basket as soon as Cassian opens the hatch, move smoothly to my feet, and lift my head high. The gargoyles are lined up in five rows of five on the cliff’s edge. Llion, Roar, and Jasper are in the first row, while Welsian, Iago, and Badenoch join the last row. I need them in those positions to guide the others if things go bad.
I stride to the head of the group, giving them a single nod before turning in the direction of Crimson Court and the beating drums. Shadow panther flags flap in the wind, the breeze cooling us as the sun begins its descent. Sunset is still two hours away so we have plenty of light.
Cassian removes the wooden box from his satchel and places it on the wide, wooden tray that he asked one of the guards to bring. He balances it in his arms like an offering, walking ahead of us. In the distance, brilliant flashes of sapphire and emerald light from Howl’s heartstones tell me that he has chosen to wait inside the Court. He wants us to bring Prime’s heart to him.
I judge the number of guards lining the Court at about one hundred. There are more guards outside Harem Hall, another legion outside the palace itself, and even more within each mine. The number of guards I see here are just the beginning of what we’ll have to fight.
Another forty or so free gargoyles stand in rough rows on the right hand side inside the Court—each of the former clan elders plus some advisors. I recognize many of the faces from the last time we were here, including Lightsworn Liliana who waits next to the old High Priestess. Liliana is dressed in simple black pants and a shirt, but it’s overlaid with leather armor. I’m guessing that Howl’s announcement about marrying me has had a positive impact on her life. At the very least, it looks like he no longer controls what she wears.
She doesn’t take her eyes off Llion as he approaches and it’s easy to see why she chose him. Like Llion, she’s focused, intent. She doesn’t carry any visible weapons—none of us do—but I sense her quiet rage.
The other gargoyles are equally unyielding, silent, but their clan cultures are visible in their dress and manners. While the Lightsworn and Virtuous clans are regal, the leaders of the Denrock and Sunflight clans are dressed in functional, earthy colored clothing.
Sitting on the throne on the dais, Howl wears a grin that fades only slightly when he narrows his eyes at my armor. He won’t call me out on it because that would mean admitting that someone succeeded in stealing it from him, but the tick at the side of his jaw tells me he’s not happy. The two heartstones glow against his bare chest, but he wears a new molded metal harness with a third, empty circle ready to place the new stone into. He’s alone on the dais this time—no trophi
es in the form of Baelen or the Phoenix—but I guess the Prime Heartstone will be trophy enough.
“My King,” Cassian says, stopping at the foot of the dais as the drums stop beating. “I bring you Prime’s heart.”
Howl doesn’t make a move to take it yet. “Which gargoyle found it?”
“They all did, my King.”
Howl scoffs, his thick fingers thrumming against his armrests. “All of them?”
“Yes. The Princess found a way through the flames in the fifth tunnel. That gargoyle there—Iago—determined where to puncture the rock wall behind it. Those two—Roar and Llion—weakened the wall, and that one—Welsian—finally broke the wall apart. Then this one here—Badenoch—identified the heart as Prime’s. That one over there devised a way to pick up the heart without triggering it and—”
Howl cuts him off. “I get your point, General Cassian.” His narrowed eyes slide over to me. “We’ll deal with who can claim the prize soon enough. Bring me the stone.”
Cassian turns to Roar and orders him to take the tray, removing the wooden box from it and ascending the steps.
I thrum with tension as he places the box on a waiting pedestal. He draws himself off to the side, wings partially spread, tips forward. It’s a defensive pose, but Howl is too pleased about his new prize to notice. He lifts himself from his throne and gleams at the box, running his hands over the top of it in a caress. “Finally. The trio of heartstones.”
Howl lifts the lid with a wide grin. I hold my breath. My heart begins to pound but I accept it, the slam of adrenaline, the need to fight.
Howl blinks down at the box. Anger follows confusion and it’s all the reaction I need.
“Positions!” I scream.
The front line of gargoyles, including Roar and Llion drops to their knees. Roar uses the same movement to slam the tray into the floor. It splits into twenty straight pieces that had been held together with the same gum that Roar plastered over my eye after my fight with Arlo. At the same time, the other lines of gargoyles drop to their boots, retrieve the pickaxe heads hidden in them in one hand and deftly catch the handles that Roar and the front line throw back with their other. Suddenly they’re all armed with the weapon of their trade. In the next breath, they form a semi circle around Llion and me, pushing outward as the guards push in, reacting to my scream.
Roar takes the lead and shouts at the clan leaders to get to the back of the Court. They don’t waste time, hurrying out of the way of the guards. The old Priestess runs with them, but Liliana jumps into line with the miners, taking position beside Welsian. We’re left with two rings: guards on the outside, miners on the inside, Llion and me in the center.
Howl is still fixated on the empty box. His angry fist closes around it so tightly that the wooden structure cracks and splinters, strewing shards across the dais.
He roars at Cassian, “Where is the heartstone?”
Cassian points. “There.”
Llion spreads his wings. He rips off his shirt to reveal his own molded metal straps crossing his chest. The Prime Heartstone rests inside them.
Howl screams, “That’s not possible!”
“Believe it,” Llion says as he takes flight, his strong wings lifting him up into the space over our heads. “You want it? Come and get it.”
Howl’s corded muscles bulge. Powerful green light pulses through the veins in his wings as he speeds into the air, flying faster than normal with the power of the heartstones behind him.
The two gargoyles collide mid-air. The collision is all it takes to send the guards into action, but we’re ready for them.
“Lady Storm!” Roar throws me a pickaxe as several guards target me. It doesn’t take me long to get the hang of using it as a weapon. After all, I’ve used one of these every day for the last month. When I don’t use it for its sharp end, I use its handle in the way my Storm Command taught me to fight with a wooden rod. I duck under the sword swing of the nearest guard and drive the blunt end of the pickaxe once into his chest and again under his chin, knocking him backward.
Nearby Welsian disarms a guard and Liliana snaps up his sword. When Welsian loses his own weapon in the chest of another guard, his fists become his weapons until he pulls out the rope belt he’s wearing, which happens to have a small chisel attached to the end of it. It’s not quite a bone lash, but it does enough damage when swung around and let loose on his opponent.
The fight continues around me and so far we haven’t lost any miners. But up above us, Llion appears to be tiring—and getting sloppy because of it.
“You can’t control Prime’s heart,” Howl jeers at him. “You don’t know how.”
Slamming both of Llion’s arms outward, he exposes Llion’s chest and snatches at the heartstone. “Now it’s mine.”
Watching from the ground, I grin. Iago designed the harness well.
Llion says, “I was waiting for you to do that.”
As Howl’s bare hand closes over the front of the heartstone, his muscles bulge, his eyes widen. There’s a pause as he realizes his mistake. “You didn’t wake it yet…”
The blast slams Howl backward, all the way across the Court into the side of the mountain against which it’s built. Every creature in the room that ever controlled deep magic, including the Priestess, flies backward in the blast. It hits me too, but I’m ready for it this time. I allow the wave to carry me up and over the stunned guards, preparing to drop and roll on the way back down. The awakening hurts—I can’t deny that it hurts—but I welcome it, because now Llion can use the stone. He can fight Howl for real. Now the fight will be fair.
“Princess!” Cassian flies through the air and catches me before I fall, carrying me safely back to the ground.
Howl tumbles to the dais, stunned. His concussion won’t last long, but Llion uses the seconds wisely, taking hold of the heartstone for real this time, ripping off the protective covering at the back of the harness that stopped the stone from making contact with his skin. It was the same method I used in Erawind so I could handle metal without causing a lightning storm.
The change is instant. Golden light streams through his veins, visible in his wings, lighting up his eyes even more golden than they were before. Nearby, Liliana has frozen in shock. As a guard cuts the air beside her with his sword, Llion reacts in her defense, his palm shooting outward, the guard flung backward in the force. She barely notices, racing to her husband. “Llion!”
He scoops her up, kisses her fiercely, and then puts her down again. “Be safe, my love.”
He flies up again and swoops toward Howl. The King rises from the ground, clawing at the side of the mountain to regain his feet before leaping toward the front of the dais, his wings spread.
Beside me, Cassian suddenly stiffens. “Princess! Watch out!”
It takes me a split second to realize that Howl isn’t coming for Llion. He’s coming for us, or more particularly, his pinpoint focus is Cassian.
“Traitor!” Howl feints around Llion’s right wing, barely evading his wing dagger, and in the time it takes for Llion to spin, reach out, snatch hold of Howl’s wing, wrench him backward…
“Death.” Howl’s palm shoots out. A bolt of green light the size of my arm spears at Cassian. I sense its power the moment it leaves Howl’s hand. The memory of deep magic inside me screams at me in warning. He’s injected his cruelest thoughts into the heartstone and forced it to give life to savage pain and slow death. Nothing will be able to stop it once it reaches its target.
I don’t think. I react.
Both my arms shoot out, palms flat. I take one step forward for the strength I’ll need for my smaller body to have the impact I want. I shove Cassian hard in the side, pushing him out of the way, registering the shock sparking from every angle of his falling body, his eyes shooting to mine.
The step I took positions me directly in the bolt’s path and even with my quickest reflex, it’s too late to move out of it. The bolt’s explosive light fills my view and I brace f
or the pain that will come first and the death that will follow.
Beyond it, obscured, barely visible, Howl’s expression morphs from rage to fear, the deepest fear he’s ever shown. It stretches his skin and drains his face pale.
If there’s such a thing as a moment within a moment, I use it for my last thought.
Baelen will kill you when I’m dead.
27
A gray curtain shoots up in front of me, thick webbing lighting up green as the bolt strikes it from the other side. Another protective curtain shoots up behind me. Wings… wings…
Cassian let them unfold as he fell, using the strength of my push to trigger his reflex to extend his wings at the exact moment that I pushed him away.
No! Cassian!
The death bolt strikes Cassian’s wing and shrieks through his wing bones, lighting them up green, sizzling through them to his shoulders, chest, arms, legs, and up into his head. He hits the floor with a crack, his back arched over his satchel, the smash of breaking wood filling my ears.
The light vanishes. The bolt met its mark.
“Cassian!” Damn his massive wings. No other gargoyle could have done what he did, using his wings to shield me and take the bolt himself.
I drop to his side, grasping at his torso, sliding my hands behind his back, trying to pull him up. He’s heavy, all bulky muscle. He shudders against me. He’s hurting. Badly. His eyes are shut, but he’s still breathing. Gasping for breath.
“Cassian… no….” I have to get him out of here. Tears of fright replace my shock. I don’t know what I can do to stop the death that’s coming, but I have to try. “Somebody help me!”
Jasper is closest to me, but as soon as he tries to get to me, three big guards step into his path, jeering at him and me. They heard my cry. They know what they’re doing, blocking Jasper from helping me. I memorize their faces, because I’ll be coming for them soon.
For now, I’m on my own. With a scream of effort, I pull Cassian’s bulky torso into my arms, his wings flopping to the ground behind him, a dead weight pulling him backward. It takes me too long to snatch and grab them forward, using their weight to keep him leaning against me and in the meantime, he’s trying to speak.
