23
“You didn’t!” Baelen advances on Elwyn so fast the Elven Commander backpedals into the table. Teilo jumps out of the way, much faster than I expected for the older elf. Bae stops inches from Elwyn, staring him down, and it strikes me just how massive Baelen is, making the older male appear small and fragile.
Elwyn hisses, “Calm yourself, Commander. We didn’t trap any of them.”
Baelen takes a step back, but doesn’t give Elwyn or the others any space. He speaks slowly and deliberately. He doesn’t take his eyes off the other males, but it doesn’t take me long to realize that he’s speaking to me, not them.
“On the night of Jordan and Sebastian’s wedding, the Elven Command saw fit to send a battalion of soldiers to Scepter Peak without my knowledge. Their mission was to capture and kill the gargoyles nesting there. Luckily, your brother found out about it and we tracked down the battalion that night. I ordered the troops to return home before there was any bloodshed.” Baelen half turns to me. “I came to report this to you before Mai Reverie was murdered.”
Elwyn sucks in a breath sharp enough to echo in the deathly quiet room. He hasn’t reacted to any of Baelen’s accusations, until this. Baelen called itmurder… not death. Elwyn’s eyes narrow, his mouth pinches, and his cheeks flame. He definitely doesn’t like what Baelen just said.
Baelen doesn’t move from his imposing stance. “Now they say they want us to fight gargoyles.”
Teilo Splendor is the only one of the older males who looks troubled. He takes glances at the others, looking genuinely thrown and confused as he lets go of the table where he’d caught his balance. I consider him for a moment as he straightens his robes. He was also at the wedding for his grandson when the battalion was sent into the mountains. Is it possible that he didn’t know? It’s the first sign I’ve ever seen of a split in the Elven Command.
“The gargoyles won’t be real,” Teilo says. “They will be simulations.”
I focus on him while Baelen keeps Elwyn pinned. “Explain, please.”
“We will use the Heartstone Chest in the same way that we used it for the game of wit—to create a scenario unique to each of you. The only danger is… we will not see what you see. You will fight the gargoyle in your mind. To us, you will both simply be sitting in the chairs of truth, but to you it will be very real. It will be like… a dream from which you can’t escape until either you or the gargoyle is dead.”
I consider him again. “So once we start, we can’t stop.”
“Correct. For that reason, we will allow you to have as many Storm Commanders around you as you need to protect your body while your mind is elsewhere.” He turns to the rest of the Elven Command and for the first time, there’s a thread of anger in his voice. “Your body must remain sacred until you choose to share your power.”
Well, he’s certainly the first Elven Commander to think so.
“If you can’t see what we see, how will you know if we’ve won or lost?”
Teilo says, “If you lose, the Heartstone Chest will open and reject your heartstone.”
“I don’t like it.” Baelen takes a step back, this time toward me, placing himself protectively between me and the Elven Command. “Princess, you’ll be too exposed.”
He’s right. It’s bound to be a trick. If my mind is elsewhere, if I don’t know what’s going on around me, I’ll be vulnerable to attack. Not only that, but I won’t be able to see Baelen to know if he’s okay. A shudder racks my spine at what could happen while I’m in the simulation.
“You might not like it,” Elwyn spits, “But our decision is made. You will present yourselves to the arena tomorrow morning at the ninth hour. You are dismissed.”
I spin to Elise. She’s wide-eyed, waiting closer to the door. Her lips part but I shake my head. Whatever she wants to say will have to wait. Baelen is also tight-lipped as he leaves the War Room with me.
Halfway down the corridor, right before I reach the safety of my Storm Command, he murmurs, “Be careful. Don’t trust them.”
I spin to him, keeping my voice low, not much above a whisper. “Wait, Baelen, please.”
He stops in the middle of the corridor, but his expression is hooded, tense. I need him to hear what I have to say, but I’m not sure if he will. Maybe he’ll hear the words, but he won’t really hearme. There’s a thick invisible wall between us and it gets wider with every passing second. Maybe he thinks he’s making this easier for me by pushing me away, but he isn’t. As fast as he’s building a barrier between us, the more clarity I have about the choice I need to make.
The Elven Command might try to delay the inevitable, but neither one of us will lose against the gargoyle tomorrow. And when that happens we will fight each other. I have Sahara’s potions—my last source of hope. But if they don’t work, if I can’t pull it off in a way that convinces the Elven Command that I’ve won, then either Baelen or I will die. And the truth is… I made my decision a long time ago about which one of us I would protect.
I meet his guarded eyes, knowing that if I don’t speak now, I’ll regret it. He believes that I would rather kill him than yield and I need him to know that’s not true. I need him to know that will never be true.
My throat constricts and I can barely get sound out. “Seven years ago, I made a choice.”
He doesn’t react and I’m not sure if he heard me, but I have to keep going. “I wouldn’t let you die then. I won’t let you die now. When I have to choose between you or me, I’ll choose you.”
A frown mars his forehead and confusion swirls in his eyes, but it only takes a beat for him to process what I said. I know that he really heard me when he sucks in a sharp breath. He flinches and it’s like I punched him in the heart.
I can’t tell him about the curse, I can’t tell him why, but I just told him that it’s my life or his.
“Marbella… please tell me what’s going on. You have to let me help you.”
