30
We bury our dead the next day. I declare a week of mourning so that all of the fallen gargoyles and elves can be properly buried and mourned. I lay my five fallen ladies to rest on the crest of the mountain beside Cassian. On that same spot, I also bury Badenoch. My wise and kind friend had flown from the safety of the cavern he was hidden inside and taken the death bolt that Osian Valor had intended for Elise. His children stand beside me, heads bowed, as we lower his body into the earth. Now they have lost both their parents.
I don’t have enough tears.
The day after we bury Badenoch, I make my way with the old Priestess Dorothea to the highest room in the Royal Residence where the Queen’s journal waits. It is mine to write in now. Dorothea hands me a quill and ink and leaves me to choose my words. The pages will turn the color of my life as soon as I write my name on them.
My hand moves across the page:Marbella Mercy.
A gentle lilac spreads across the page like ink through water—the color of my heartstone. Then a crimson red grows in the middle of the page, unfolding like a rose, spreading outward—the color of the Rath Heartstone. But they’re both quickly followed by pristine white that bleaches the page clean again, the same color as Incorruptible’s life. I guess I am a little of all of them.
I start at the beginning, from the day I became the Storm Princess, and I write about everything that happened since, writing long into the night about taming the Storm, about my Storm Command, the marriage trials, Baelen’s near death, my heartbreak, mining with the gargoyles and fighting with them, finding the heartstones, fighting Howl and losing Cassian, everything Grayson said and did, the war… until Baelen appears in the doorway, filling it with his massive body as I stifle a powerful yawn. He doesn’t tell me to come to bed, simply gathers me up in his arms and carries me there.
At the end of the first week, Baelen and I travel to Erawind to meet with all of the elven houses. We take a handful of gargoyles with us. Talia’s rosebud mouth opens in awe at the elaborate elven architecture—the sandstone buildings and sculpted gardens. At some stage within the last few days, she has quietly taken over from the old Priestess in the role of my gargoyle advisor—apparently that is the job of the High Priestess—while Elise remains as my elven advisor. I am honored to have these two strong females at my side.
Eli Elder meets us on the city’s outskirts to escort us to the arena where representatives from the elven houses wait to speak with me. As we enter the stadium, I’m glad to find there is no spellcasting at work here today: it is simply a meeting place. If the changes in my appearance stun them, Talia’s beauty makes them gasp. She has regained her strength in the last few days and now she glows; her emerald eyes are radiant, her hair is a river of gold, and her gossamer wings are sparkling silver. As soon as I can, I plan to order the destruction of all the monstrous gargoyle images that the Elven Command used as propaganda to spread fear.
There is a lot to be done to restore trust with the elves. I start the meeting by opening the Heartstone Chest and returning the heartstones to their Houses. The Elven Command had hoarded them but they belong in the hands of their people. The representatives gladly accept the stones, grateful to have them returned. Then I address the need for new leaders in the Houses of the dead Elven Commanders, giving the representatives of those Houses the choice between holding an election or allowing me to choose for them.
A representative from the House of Glory takes a knee, saying, “Our minds have been clouded by sorcery for many years. We do not trust our own judgment. We request that you choose for us. We will hold elections in the future once we trust our own minds again.”
Impressed by their insight, I name Eli Elder, Gwynn Bounty, and Sahara Splendor, knowing they will be fair, wise, and most importantly I can trust them. It is harder to choose for the Houses of Valor and Glory. Grayson has not reappeared so I can’t ask him what he wants to do. And as for Valor, I’ve never trusted any of them.
Luckily, Senturi agreed to come with me to this meeting. I hide a smile when the representatives from the Houses of Glory and Valor take a step back as he descends from the dais to study them. I don’t blame them. Senturi is in full ferocious form. A fur coat cast across his shoulders, he’s sporting his double chain of talons, making him appear wild and fierce. He stops in front of one of the Valor representatives. The older elf is the only one who doesn’t look away. This elf bears a scar above his eye and his features are hardened. He is not the one I would have chosen but Senturi gives me a nod, returning to my side to murmur to me, “He is a loyalist who believes in the Crown. He is ferocious and will bring his House into line.”
I ask, “And Glory?”
Senturi points at the male who asked me to choose for them. “That one’s daughter. She was instrumental in the protest after you were mistreated in this arena. Since your disappearance, she has worked tirelessly behind the scenes to free imprisoned dissenters.”
“Dissenters?”
“Elves who protested against the Elven Command. They have all been released now.”
“Thank you, Senturi.” I turn back to the representatives. “Now, let’s talk about the future.”
I’m exhausted by the time we’re done, but I’ve begun building bridges and that is the most critical thing right now.
That night, we stay in my old quarters. It is surreal being here now. So many memories are caught between these walls. So much heartache. As night falls and the moon shines full, I head to my old bedroom, taking Baelen with me. I lead him to my old bathing room and close the door. This time, he won’t leave this room without holding my hand and more.
The days blur over the next month with all the work that needs to be done in both countries. While I go about restoring peace, strange and random things begin to happen in Erador. First, the talon crows disappear. Then the shadow panther population decreases rapidly—almost as if someone is hunting them mercilessly. The Outlier Clan reports that sightings of crows and panthers have become very rare. They bow deeply to Baelen when they tell us that the predator population hasn’t been this low since his time in the wastelands. Then, the day after Iago and his builders finish the new home for the Priestesses and orphaned children, elegant wooden furniture and plush seats miraculously appear in the living and dining areas. It looks suspiciously like the furniture from Grayson’s cage. The children love it.
At the end of the first month, I awake in my bed in the Royal Residence with a start, sensing… a force I haven’t felt for a while. Baelen tugs on me when I slide out of bed, half-asleep, but I whisper for him to go back to sleep—I’m okay. I dress quickly and head out into the dark before dawn.
My living arrangements for now are quite nomadic. I plan to spend two months at a time in each of the Royal Residence in Erador and then my quarters in Erawind, visiting my family on the way through. Iago is already making noises with a gleam in his eye about building me a new palace right on the border between the two countries. I tell him, “All in good time.”
I follow the tingle in the air all the way past the new home for the children, past Crimson Court, and to the springs. I tread carefully inside, pausing at the spot where the walkway opens up into the cavern.
Grayson stands at the edge of the water with his back to me. He doesn’t move, but he knows I’m here. Without turning, he says, “I wonder what would happen if I went in.”
I cross the distance to stand by his side, considering the glistening pond. Sorcery and deep magic don’t combine, but I’m not sure to what extent those rules apply to Grayson—a natural sorcerer whose power doesn’t derive from death. I’ve already asked Elise to undertake as much research as she can about natural sorcery, but since Grayson is only the second ever born, we’re in unknown territory.
He finally turns to me as he asks, “Would the water kill me? Or would it give me back my wings?”
My lips part a little. He’s grown a beard. He wears a chain of talons and claws around his neck. It seems to be a thing.
He steps back from the water’s edge, seeming to decide against stepping in. “Sorcery and deep magic are like fire and kindling. A bad combination.”
“I think you’re forgetting...” I tap my headpiece, my finger landing on Incorruptible’s iciness. “I can put out flames before they start.”
