11
Giant eagles carry us home. None of us is able to stay upright on their backs so they swoop down and carry us away in their talons. I try to count how many of us made it, but my vision blurs. Twelve? Maybe more? The bird delivered a water flask into my hands before it lifted me up. I grip the flask with the last of my strength, sipping fluids as slowly as I can. The flight back takes long enough that I fall asleep against the bird’s talons, waking to find myself in the courtyard outside the Storm Vault as the eagle sets me down in the circle of my Storm Command.
It takes flight, giant wings beating up a whirlwind, leaving me on the cobbled stone as Elise hovers over me. Her eyes brim with tears as she looks from my face to my hands to my patched back. “Princess, I’m so sorry…”
“I know.” It’s time. I have to subdue the storm. I try to stand but my legs buckle and I crash to my knees. I have to make it into the Vault and I have to do it on my own two legs. Elise can’t use a cloaking spell for me to lean on my ladies because other elves will see us. Even now there’s a crowd gathering, curious elves pointing and whispering.
“Close,” Jordan orders, concern brimming in every angle of her body as she casts glances back at me. The Storm Command responds by forming as close a barrier around me as they can, protecting me from prying eyes.
Jordan’s anger washes over me. “She’s hurt. She needs a healer. The others get to rest, but she doesn’t. It’s not right!”
I close my eyes and bite my lip as hard as I can. I force myself upright and take a step. Tears of pain drip down my cheeks. My legs are screaming and it’s all I can do not to scream out loud. I take another step. Somehow I make it to the corridor, across the marbled floor, and to the first door. I lean against it, my knees bending. Elise opens it gently so I can slide inside.
“Please Elise, now that nobody’s looking, can you…?”
“Cloak myself. Already done.”
As she slips her arm around my shoulders, it’s like being wrapped in wood but it’s better than walking on my own. I didn’t think I needed another elf’s touch, but after the gargoyle, my body aches for normality. A hug. Someone’s hand in mine. An arm around my shoulders that I can actually feel.
I stumble through the next two doors. She can’t follow me into the Vault itself so I fall into it, sliding to the floor. I curl into a ball at the edge and close my eyes, tears leaking onto the floor. I don’t try to stop them. Very soon the rain will wash them away. Or the wind will cast them back at me like a slap in the face.
I speak to the storm. “Do your worst.”
A breeze slides across me, caressing my skin, cooling the burning wound in my back. It lingers over my shoulder and waist where the bruises from the gargoyle remain. The wind swirls like ice, forming patterns above the surface of my skin, mirroring the shape of the gargoyle’s palms. The storm was a gargoyle once. The way it mimics the shape of the gargoyle’s palm is almost reverent. The shapes remain for a moment, great icy paws, before dispersing into the air.
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 awakeon 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.”
