“She’s asking for you. She won’t speak to anyone else. Only you.”
My eyes widen. “She’s refusing help?”
“She is. She won’t let anyone help her until she speaks with you.”
Beside me, Elise’s worried eyes meet mine and I wish I could read her thoughts. In ancient times, spellcasters had the ability to sneak into another elf’s mind and catch their thoughts, but that practice was exposed and outlawed when the last elven King died. It was his scheming that turned the gargoyles into our enemies. He was the first to die in the storm and because he had no children, the heads of the elven houses agreed to form a new Elven Command in which all the Houses had representation and a vote.
I race after Rebecca, trying not to connect with anyone as I move. The Storm Command quickly clears a path for me and I marvel at their efficiency. Three females dart forward, clearing the way ahead, while the others close ranks and keep perfect pace with me.
Mai’s quarters are on the other side of the square. She’s the only other former princess who’s still alive. The other two lived for hundreds of years each, hanging on until the Storm chose its next princess.
My own quarters are on the opposite side of the square—Mai vacated them when the storm chose me. There’s never any resentment on the part of the vacating Princess. We have no real political power—that rests with the Elven Command. And besides, who’d want to spend their days fighting with a storm?
I still remember the look of relief Mai gave me when I met her for the first time. Her relief was so huge, it terrified me about what I was taking on.
I race through the outer wall of her quarters, through her personal garden and its neatly sculpted stone and sand arrangements. I slow my pace as we run toward the inner rooms. I call the Storm Command to slow down, too. “Go carefully.”
The female elves become like wraiths, their footsteps light, barely perceptible. My own are heavier because of the weight of the storm I’ve absorbed and my boots squelch on the pristine marble floor.
Jordan gives my feet a glance and I shrug my shoulders. I’m noisy, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
Besides… the energy radiating from Mai’s greeting room tells me she’ll sense me coming no matter what. Her inner quarters are surrounded by indoor plants—vines full of red roses curling across the top of the door and internal windows. The House of Reverie is known for its ability to cultivate plants in any environment.
Jordan signals for the elves to halt and turns to me. “Her door is open.”
She describes it to me because they’re blocking my view. An open door, at least, is a good sign, because in elven society it’s a sign of good faith. Mai isn’t hiding anything.
“Open.” The Storm Command obeys me instantly, shuffling back into a crescent keeping my back safe so that I have a direct view of Mai’s quarters through the door. It fills me with faith to see how much they trust my commands.
Mai and her husband Darian sit on the rug in the middle of the room. Mai’s legs are in an awkward position, making me think she collapsed in that position, while Darian is supporting her. Beads of sweat rest on her brow and her dress is shiny as if she went swimming in it.
I step forward, but Elise is quicker. “No, Princess.”
I spin to her.
Her forehead is creased into a hard frown. “Princess, if there’s illness inside that room then you can’t be exposed to it.”
I shake my head. “I’m full of storm, Elise. I’m as strong as I’ll ever be. Mai needs my help. I can feel it. I’m not backing away from this.”
“I don’t expect you to, but please let me come with you.”
I’m surprised she thought I’d go in without her. She’s not only my advisor but my best friend. “Of course.”
Rebecca hovers beside me. “She said she’d speak only with you, Princess.”
“I understand, Rebecca, thank you for telling me, but the rules are the rules: a member of the Storm Command must be with me at all times.”
Rebecca bows her head and clears the way as Elise and I step into the room. The Storm Command forms an impenetrable barrier behind me and spreads out to guard the windows on either side.
I turn to Elise. “But that doesn’t mean everyone has to listen.”
“I understand.” Elise turns her hand to the side and passes it across the doorway as we step inside the room and I trust her to create a sound barrier between us and the watching elves.
Darian lifts his head while Mai reaches out a hand to me. Her skin is much paler than normal.
“Marbella,” she says. “I’m sorry to greet you in this state.”
I drop to my knees. “What happened, Mai?”
