I inhale. Exhale. I turn to face Baelen, wishing I could throw my thoughts across the distance.Be safe.
He gives me an acknowledging nod as he pulls his headpiece on. I do the same, tying the veil firmly to the neckline of my armor. The chair is a yawning gap in my vision, but it’s the Elven Command’s sorcery that worries me more.
I time my movements to Baelen’s, following him into the chair in unison, jolting as the deep magic takes hold. It’s like a magnet running through every bone in my body, compelling me to stay seated.
I thought I’d have to close my eyes, but my vision changes immediately. Baelen’s silhouette blurs and blends into an encroaching darkness. I try to hold on to his image within my sight, but I can’t fight the deep black like nighttime falling across everything. It surrounds me, consuming the arena, my ladies, the soldiers, the Elven Command, even the chair itself and, last of all, Baelen is completely gone and there’s nothing but dark.
I float inside it, regulating my breathing, mentally preparing myself. The darkness lifts and I’m ready for anything.
Except this.
My armor’s gone. The wind whips at my hair. I stand across from the edge of a cliff. Baelen sits at the edge with his back to me. From across his shoulder I see a pen and paper in his hands. But he’s not thenowBaelen, he’s thethenBaelen.
I glance at myself, at my hands and my dress—the old, patched one I used to wear. My faded lavender cloak drapes around my shoulders to ward against the cold. My hair is tied in a long braid and my blue ribbon—the only pretty thing I own—flutters against my side.
I’m eighteen.
This is the day I became the Storm Princess.
I don’t want to be here!The shriek inside my mind fades as I keep walking. My older self’s thoughts are consumed and destroyed as I merge completely with my younger self, until I forget why I’m here… I don’t know what I was afraid of just now… because Bae’s here and nothing can hurt me.
I pass the shallow cave on my left that’s deep enough to provide shelter. The cliff’s edge opposite the cave is a sheer drop down thousands of feet. I’m breathing heavily. I’ve just climbed up the side of the mountain along the secret path that Baelen showed me years before—a place to escape in the Rath mountains that nobody else knows how to get to.
In the beginning, we had an unspoken code to only come up here when the other wasn’t here. It was a place to be alone. He told me about it after he found me crying behind one of the outer buildings when we were eleven, my knees and hands bleeding after one of the visiting Valor boys knocked me over.
But now… It’s his place and mine.
I step across the stones, navigating the rocky ground, and slide down next to him, my legs dangling over the edge. The drop is dizzying but it’s funny how I don’t feel fear when I’m near him.
I don’t try to see what he’s drawing. He’s never offered to show me and I respect that it’s the one thing he keeps for himself. Most days he spends all day training and studying. Basically learning how to kill gargoyles in every way possible.
He turns as if he’s connected to me.“My father’s sending me to military training tomorrow. This is the last time I can draw anything other than maps and military routes.”
I take a moment to let my breathing even out. Then I nudge him, trying to coax out a smile. “Maybe they’ll let you do military portraits. You know, the ones where all the elves take majestic positions and pretend they’re in the middle of glorious battle.”
He shrugs.
I raise my eyebrows. Not even a small smile?
But he’s right. There’s no use trying to make light of it. He’s going away and at some point I’m going to have to admit how that makes me feel. I exhale my emptiness into the breeze, closing my eyes, shutting out the view of the vast Rath lands far beneath us. “I don’t want you to go, Bae.”
He closes the book but I’m surprised when he hands it to me. He says, “You may as well see it before my father burns it.”
“Really? I can look at this?” I let it rest in my lap for a moment, running my hands over the cover. It’s made of fine leather, black, a gift from his mother before she died. His father wouldn’t really burn it. At least, I don’t think so.
I turn it on its side and it falls open to a picture of an elven girl. She’s standing at the edge of this same cliff, her hair flowing and cloak billowing out, just like me a moment ago.
Baelen smiles for the first time, his eyes lighting up. “You thought I never saw you walk up the mountain.”
I wish I could leap into the picture and stay in that moment. That heartbeat when I reach the top of the path, knowing that he’s waiting for me. That moment right before he turns around—when he knows I’m here even before I speak.
I hand the book back to him. “It’s beautiful, Baelen. But only because you drew it.” I’m suddenly overtaken by an impulse I can’t explain. “Don’t give your father the chance to burn it. Set it free.”
I jump to my feet, breaking into a wild grin. I take a last look at the picture as I gesture to the wide expanse. “Rip my picture out and let me fly with the wind.”
In response, Baelen tucks the book under his arm. He rises to his full height, reminding me that he is a Rath. He towers over me and I’m suddenly very small but never afraid. His gaze runs over my face, from my forehead to my cheeks to my lips…
He’s never looked at me this way before. Or… maybe he has but I was too afraid to see it. I hover, the smile draining from my face, uncertainty flooding me. “Baelen?”
