“Uh, Lady Storm, I’m filthy right now and…” His gaze darts to Baelen who is suddenly a simmering silhouette inside the Court. “I don’t think the Wrathful One will appreciate adding mud to what must already be concerning him about the state of your clothing.”
Once again, I forgot the blood. “I’m fine, Roar. Totally healed.”
“But it was a bad wound. Anyone can see that.”
I sigh. “I guess you’re not the only one who should get cleaned up right away.” I need to shower and change before questions are asked that have complicated answers. I wrinkle my nose at him. “At least I don’t stink.”
“Thanks, Lady Storm.” He pauses, grinning widely at me before turning away. “Nice tiara, by the way.”
I’ve never seen this lighter side of Roar. In the mines, he was always serious, always focused on the task at hand; a hard worker and a dedicated warrior. He still is: finding the flower would have been difficult to begin with but he must have flown as fast as the Phoenix to get back here from the wastelands in time. To see him grinning now, relaxed and happy to have done something that touched his wife’s heart, it makes me wonder how much the oppression of Howl’s rule changed his behavior and who the gargoyles would all be if they hadn’t been subjected to Howl’s cruelty.
I make my way past Baelen, grateful to see that none of the gargoyles are avoiding him now. One of the females passes him a glass of water, telling him to drink something. Two children tug on his arm and beg him to play with them. They aren’t afraid of him any longer and it’s a vast relief to me.
The sun will go down soon and the children will need to be brought to the Residence. I want to clean up before that happens. I veer toward him briefly. “I’m going to change. Let’s talk once you’re back at the Residence.”
He growls a response that makes the nearest children giggle. Looks like it’s growling-Baelen day. He’s not happy, and I hate that he’s worried, but I can’t give him any assurances that don’t lead to more questions right now. I hurry away from him to a chorus of little voices begging for another story.
Inside the Residence, I sneak to my room before I encounter the Priestess or anyone else who will want answers. But especially the Priestess. She’d told me that the stones were destructive and I guess her beliefs were formed out of fear. I’m still processing what Gretel taught me. I’m still coming to terms with the fact that the stones sit on my head now and that they feel like part of me.
Mystrength,myheart,mystrategy,myimmortality.
I remove the tiara in my bedroom, testing how far away from the crown I can move before I feel its pull. Seems like the bathroom is okay. From the doorway, I test whether I can call it to me, reaching out my hand. The crown zips straight into my open palm. Excellent. I could probably move even further but right now I need to clean up.
I’m halfway through washing myself—most of the blood is gone—when the bathroom door crashes open in a great gust of wind.
Baelen storms in behind it, a tornado picking me up so I don’t slip in surprise. The shower water suddenly transforms into a fine mist, swelling around me in a gentle cloud. He dwarfs the doorway. Every muscle in his body is tense, his chest heaves, and growls rip from his throat. Behind his eyes, the spark of fire threatens to be released.
I don’t fight the pull of the storm around me. “Baelen—?”
He strides toward me at the same time as the tornado whisks me forward and deposits me, naked and wet, into his arms. Carrying me from the room, his fiery body heat dries me off instantly.
He plants me on the side of the bed but doesn’t let me go, dropping to a kneeling position to examine my shoulder. His chest rumbles with thunder as he inspects my skin and muscles, his fingers at first light and then firm as he tests for any lasting damage.
He finally speaks, a threatening vibration. “You were supposed to be invincible. They said you were invincible. How did this happen? Who do I need to kill?”
“Nobody, Baelen. Really. I’m okay now.”
“But you weren’t!”
My voice is small, trapped in my throat. I try to squash the memory of the talon crow clawing through my shoulder. “No, I wasn’t.”
“What happened?”
The truth is not going to make him any happier, but there’s no way around it. I try to slow it down, keep it calm. “A talon crow attacked me. It was under the control of the Elven Command’s newest member: Grayson Glory. He’s a powerful sorcerer and… he’s forced a tether with our heartstones. It protects him from my power. It’s how he got through my defenses.”
“Which heartstones?”
“Rath and Mercy.”
If he was angry before, now he’s pale with fury.
I hurry on. “But I have much better control of my power now. I was afraid to use it before, but I’m not anymore. And the positive side is that he thinks I’m weaker than I am.”
Baelen’s big hands flex around my waist, his jaw clenching. “I should have been there.”
“Baelen—”
“It’s my job to protect you, Marbella Mercy. I can’t protect you if you won’t let me.”
