23
Iam frozen. I’m sure my heart has stopped beating. I barely hear her next words.
“It’s why the Elven Command has been so desperate to kill you.”
“But how… did they even know? You killed everyone who knew: the King, his wife, his advisors, thousands of elves…”
She presses her lips together, suddenly trembling. “After Grayson’s mother had her vision, the Elven Commanders sought every means possible to take over the deep springs. After a time, they turned their sights on me. They thought the storm power would get them through the gargoyle’s defenses. So one night, fifteen years ago, before you became the Storm Princess, Gideon Glory stole into my mind to find out what I really was and how to control me. He saw all the secrets of my past.”
A tear trickles down her cheek. “But it was not what he saw that truly devastated me. My secrets are awful but they are nothing compared to who he killed to give himself power to see my thoughts.”
Her hands shake around mine. Her emotions are making me afraid. Like the other Commanders, Gideon’s sorcery was always fed by death. He killed Mai to create the marriage curse. Now Elyria is trying to tell me about someone who died fifteen years ago… when I was… ten years old…
I force the single word to spill from my tongue. “Who?”
“Baelen Rath’s mother and unborn sister.”
My wail cuts across the clearing, sharp and painful. I double over, trying to breathe. Baelen’s mother… his sister… their deaths had such a profound impact on him and left his House without a future. Baelen’s father was a fierce but wise elf who would have recognized the Command’s sorcery much sooner than I did. Gideon Glory struck right at his heart, trying to break him, the same way Grayson tried to break Baelen: by taking away what he loves the most.
“After I made you Storm Princess and you showed signs of controlling the storm, the Elven Command took what they already knew about me and put the pieces together. They know you are the rightful heir.”
Elyria runs her hand through my hair, trying to comfort me. “I sank all of my rage into the storm to avenge my family. You avenged Baelen’s family when you killed Gideon Glory. But now your greatest battle is ahead of you. I’m sorry, Marbella. I’m sorry to tell you these things. But now you know everything.”
Tears drip down my cheeks. A drastic change of air pressure alerts me moments before Baelen drops to the earth beside the lake, his feet pounding in my direction. He felt my pain. “What happened?”
Elyria intercepts him, placing her hand over his heart. “She weeps for you, Baelen Rath.”
Elyria heads toward Jasper who is striding up the slope toward us, concern written all over his face. She takes his hand and speaks with him for a moment. He casts a worried glance in our direction before following her back to the cabin.
Baelen takes a knee in front of me. He reaches for my hand, quietly checking me over. “Marbella?”
This great, giant of an elf who can literally rip a shadow panther apart with his bare hands is so concerned about me, so careful with my hand, that I just want to cry harder. I swallow my tears and tell him everything.
I start with Elyria’s story, the Elven King’s treachery, and the consequences of me taking her soul. Then I tell him about Grayson’s mother, her vision of Earth’s surface, the Elven Command’s plans, the threat to the deep springs, the consequences if the springs are destroyed—and the fact that I’m the only one who can kill Grayson. Last of all, I tell him about his mother and sister.
Baelen cycles through every emotion—emotions he isn’t afraid to show in front of me: anger, shock, disbelief, rage, and finally… grief. He bends his head over my hand, dropping his forehead to it, and stays like that for a long time. Quiet.
Finally, he says, “We will end this.”
I nod. “One way or another.”
When we return to the cabin, Jasper is collecting his weapons and Elyria is packing a satchel of clothing.
I try to stop them. “You don’t have to come back with us.”
“If the Elven Command wins the war, this valley will be rubble within a week,” Jasper says, sliding his sword into its scabbard. He turns to Baelen. “I’m going to need new armor.”
Jasper’s last armor was beaten up before we even arrived in Erador. It was so damaged that Llion gave him the nickname Twisted Metal.
“I have the perfect armor for you,” Baelen replies as they descend down the steps together.
I reach for Elyria. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
She covers my hand with her own. “I’m ready to heal my wing. I’m ready to face the world again.” Her smile turns wonky as she rolls her eyes. “As a new gargoyle-slash-elf-slash-whatever-I-am.”
She hasn’t once judged me for taking away her power, but as I observe the way she seeks Jasper’s help climbing onto the Phoenix’s strong back, taking his hand without hesitation, I realize that she doesn’t want the storm power anymore. She’s happier without it. I pause a moment, wondering if she knows the way Jasper looks at her, wondering if they’ve told each other how they feel. Because it’s plain as day to me: Jasper loves Elyria and she loves him back. I hope they don’t leave it too late to tell each other.
* * *
