I’m not entirely sure what he wants me to say. But I’m guessing the secret he spoke of earlier is the one Cassian told me. “Her name is Elyria.” That alone draws frowns, but what I say next turns the space around me into uproar. “She was Supreme Incorruptible.”
“Liar!”
“Princess Elyria was murdered by your kind!”
“The Storm was a servant girl!”
“How do you know this?” Lance demands.
I could be offended, angry, lash out, but I don’t. I meant what I said: I’m exhausted. I’ve experienced everything today from excruciating fear to overwhelming happiness. There’s not much more I can feel.
I reach for Baelen’s hand. He wraps my fingers up in his, quietly waiting for me to choose my response. The shouting clan leaders fade into the background as I focus on his quiet strength, finding my own within his. I take a deep breath, calming myself. The heartstones settle around me, their agitated movement slowing.
Admiration floods Senturi’s features, but his expression changes as he glares the clan leaders down, snarling at them. “You are foolish to contradict her.” His voice rises to a shout. “Look at her! Look with your hearts, not your eyes! Look again and tell me what you see!”
“Do not tell us what to believe, Outlier.” The Denrock Clan leader is the one who called me a liar and he is the first to retaliate, striding toward me, his wings tipped forward in an aggressive gesture. I let him come, squeezing Baelen’s hand to ask him not to react.
At the last moment, I focus on the Queen’s heart and the power I feel inside it. The stone drops into the space between me and the approaching gargoyle. The diamond heart lights up the air, flickering over me, flashing brilliant spears through the room. I sense it reflecting off my skin, even more brilliant than the flames in the fireplace. The gargoyle skids to a stop three paces away, his eyes shooting wide, one big hand flying up to shield his eyes. His eyebrows draw down and his wings suddenly hunch as he peers at me.
I don’t know what he sees, but something has stopped him in his tracks. His eyes grow even wider. He shakes his head side to side. “How is this possible?”
The other leaders huddle up behind him, drawn forward like moths to firelight. I peer back at them, perplexed by the sudden change. It’s probably not a good idea to tell them that my intention in drawing on the stone’s power was to knock this insolent gargoyle off his feet.
Senturi withdraws a little to the side, but not before he shoots me a pleased grin. He turns to his granddaughter. “Adalie, would you please tell the Storm Lady the story about our beloved Storm.”
“The pretend story or the real one?” she asks, her innocent gaze stuck to me like her brethren’s.
“The pretend one, dear heart.”
Adalie parrots her words as if she’s learned them by rote. “Four hundred years ago, the last Elven King brutally slaughtered our beautiful Queen Bethesda and her two children, including the heir to the throne, Princess Elyria.”
The Elven King murdered Elyria’s family! No wonder she hated elves. My hand shoots to my heart, to the sudden pain inside it. I’d heard awful stories about our last King and his sorcery. In fact, I suspected he was just as bad as Howl, but to murder Elyria’s family... For her to watch them die…
Baelen said that she was caught in the nightmares of her past. Howl had built this palace as an exact replica of the original one. It would be just like the home Elyria grew up in. Being surrounded by the same walls, the place where her family died must have broken her into pieces.
Adalie is still speaking, telling me what supposedly happened next. “Queen Bethesda’s brother arrived on the murder scene just in time to see the Elven King escape. He asked an unnamed servant girl to give her life to become the Storm and kill the treacherous Elven King. And so the royal family was avenged.” She tugs on her grandfather’s coat, whispering loudly, “Can I tell them the real story now, Papa?”
The clan leaders lean forward. This is clearly a truth they haven’t ever heard given their earlier assertions that the Storm was a servant.
Senturi pats Adalie’s hand. “Yes, dear heart, go ahead.”
Her face lights up. “I saw it in the Storm Lady’s eyes just now. It’s so much better than the pretend story. Bethesda’s brother arrived just in time to see Elyria herself become the storm. He tried to stop her. She was injured, her wing was broken, but she was determined to kill the evil King. She was her brother’s protector, not the other way around. She was going to become his avenger.”
Adalie’s eyes shine as if the idea of a girl avenging her family means a lot to her. “She became thunder and lightning, a savage tornado. She raged after the elves, killed the King and his advisors, and wiped out half the elven race as retribution for killing her family.”
She stops to take a breath, opens her mouth to continue speaking, but Senturi gives her a quick shake of his head. “Well done, dear heart, now go and play by the fire, but mind the flames.”
Adalie glances at me. There’s more. I can’t read her mind like she can read mine but I know there’s more. She says, “Yes, Papa.”
While Adalie settles herself in front of the fire, Senturi addresses me.
“Many years later, you stood at a cliff’s edge and risked your life to save Baelen Rath. You were about to plunge to your death when Elyria gave you her storm power instead. But on that night, you did something that had never been done before. You poured part of your power into Baelen Rath. You know that much, but here’s what you don’t know.”
He rolls his shoulders, the sharp edges of his wing tips catching the firelight. The flames reflect against the side of his face as he focuses on me. Pinpoint focus.
“The act of pouring your power into Baelen Rath left a gap inside you that the deep magic demanded had to be filled. To fill that gap, Elyria passed on her very essence, the very nature of who she was, including her royal blood.”
I stumble backward. “She what?”
