“Let me show you.” The Storm brushes her hands across the space above Baelen’s chest, delicate gestures, painting colors in the air, images forming until I recognize my younger self wrapped in Baelen’s arms on the stormy cliff. My ribbon is a curl of blue floating above us. It’s moments before the lightning hit us.

“That first lightning strike wasn’t me,” the Storm says. “It was a natural storm and a natural strike. Deadly, for sure, but not me. I’d escaped into the clouds and I saw it as it happened.”

The lightning streaks down at us inside the image, illuminating my upturned face. I look away before I see myself push Baelen, but the Storm says, “This is important, Marbella. You need to see what you did.”

I force myself to watch as the images play out, watching myself drive Baelen out of the way, shoving him as hard as I can to keep him safe. He slips, but there’s something else… something I never realized…

My eyes widen as I watch my feet slide backward across the wet stone, my hands still outstretched, my lavender cloak billowing and weightless, tugging me, sliding me right out… past the edge... and the fear in Baelen’s eyes…

“You were so determined to save him, you didn’t know how close you were to the edge of the cliff. You slid right off it. That first lightning strike would have killed Baelen if it wasn’t for you.” She meets my shocked eyes. “But you would have died if it wasn’t for me.”

Inside the image I can see now the brighter streak of lightning—the Storm’s power—speeding toward me, overlaying the first natural strike to reach me first. The Storm’s lightning catches me in its rays and even though it rips me apart, it slowly drags me back to the surface of the cliff.

“But… I…”

“Keep watching, Marbella,” the Storm urges me. “Because what you did next changed everything.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I know what happens next. I hurt Baelen. Badly.”

Her eyebrows lift. She turns her hands mid-air and the image turns with her. Baelen’s image is now closer to me. “Is that what you think? Look again.”

Inside the image, the cascade of lightning from my hands hits him. Unable to turn away now, I flinch and swallow a cry, squeezing my fingernails into my palms. But then… the wound on his face heals.

“Cauterized,” I whisper. “But I saw him bleed for hours.”

“That was the rain mixing with the blood he lost before this moment. You couldn’t see from where you were.”

At the same time, Baelen lights up. Crimson strands just like the color of his heartstone curl around him. They pulse through his body right into his bones, even into his spine. I’d thought it was flame, that I’d burned him, but it’s not.

It’s red lightning.

“When I struck you, I gave you my power,” the Storm explains. “When you struck him, you gave him yours.”

She reaches out and wraps her hand around my arm. It’s like connecting with a shadow, unreal, transparent, but it anchors me to the spot. She says, “You bonded with him in a way that no Storm Princess has ever done before. He shares the storm with you like no male ever has before. You are connected body and soul. I don’t know how you managed to stay away from each other these past seven years.”

“Then… Those times he came to the Storm Vault and I could suddenly fight back against you…” I’d seen what I thought was his heartstone light shining across his body, but was it actually… crimson lightning?

“He was harnessing his power without knowing it, combining his strength with yours.”

“And when we were at Mai’s, he stood beside me. The spell couldn’t move him.”

“Just like it couldn’t move you.”

“And… now?”

She says, “Their blades injured him to the point of death, but his storm power keeps him alive. Your storm power keeps him alive.” The image fades above his chest. “You know the truth now.”

For the first time in seven years, I’m not afraid to touch Baelen’s bare skin with mine. My hands shake and a sob rises to my throat, but I press my palm to his cheek.

A shudder runs through me at the contact. I’ve waited so long to be close to him again. His face is warm. A faint wash of bristles grazes my hand as I run my fingers across his jaw, aching for him to respond. “Wake up, Bae.”

He remains completely still. Tears slide down my cheeks. “If he’s alive, why won’t he wake up?”

Her eyes glisten with tears. “Marbella, I’m sorry. When I said the storm is keeping him alive I didn’t mean it healed him. Not this time. There’s too much damage. He’s alive, and he’s paused in this moment so the damage doesn’t progress, but… he won’t heal by ordinary medicine or spellcasting.”

She pauses. “It is probably a small consolation, but I want you to know that he isn’t cursed. The curse was destroyed when that sorcerer died.” Her delicate lip curls as she points at Gideon Glory in distaste.

The curse is over. It’s gone. Defeated. But I still face losing Baelen. Everything in my body aches. “Please tell me what to do. I won’t stop until he comes back to me. Tell me how to help him.”

She sucks in a breath. “You can’t help him. Only my people can.”

Her people? I take in her wings, her delicate skin, her rounded ears, and the fact that she is more beautiful than the males of her species—the gargoyles.

Her hand grips my arm. “If you want Baelen Rath to live, you must take him to the heart of Erador. You must take him to the gargoyles.”

I stare at her in disbelief. She wants me to take the male I love into the heart of our sworn enemies. “How can they help him when nobody else can?”

“The female gargoyles have a place, deep inside Mount Erador. There is a spring, which is the only water source that flows directly from Earth’s surface. They can harness the deep magic there. Only the deep magic can save him now.”

There are so many problems with what she just said. The gargoyles will kill me on sight for starters. Baelen too. I can’t just waltz into Erador and expect them to help me. I can’t leave Erawind either—I have to stay with the Vault to subdue the storm—although looking at the Storm right now, I’m not sure that’s a problem anymore.

Cautiously, I ask, “How are you here?”

She says, simply, “You freed me.”

“Then why aren’t you…” I wave my hands around. “Storming?”

“The Storm Vault never contained me. You did. I stayed there because that was where the first Storm Princess wanted me to stay. And the one after that. And you. Now, I’m here because you want me to be here. I’m calm because you want me to be calm.” She leans forward with a hint of a smile. “Don’t worry, if you die, I promise I will ‘storm.’”

I glance around at the Elven Command. Then I consider all the hurt and wounded warriors, as well as my closest friends: Elise, Jordan, Reisha, and Jasper too. Even Sebastian and Sahara. If I’m going to leave, I can’t leave them to the mercy of the Command. That’s if I’m going to leave, and I’m not even sure about that. “What if I don’t want you to be calm?”

A large smile breaks across her face, deliciously wicked in the way it lights up her eyes. “Then I will rage at your command.”

I close my eyes for a moment, exhaling my doubt and dread. Then I contemplate my frozen friends, deciding how I need this to play out. First of all, I need to know if what the Storm told me is true—that the only way to help Baelen is to take him to Erador. As a healer, Sahara can tell me whether that’s true or not.

I cross the distance to her first. She’s caught in a moment of despair, her line of sight trained on Baelen, running toward him. I brace in front of her, planting my feet and leaning forward to counter her momentum. Then I take hold of her wrist.

She comes alive, her legs moving, running straight into me, but I keep my hold and swing her around to slow her down.

She screams. “Princess!” Her eyes dart across the room where I was last placed. “But you…”

“Thunder,” I say.

She knows about me being able to use thunder to slow time so she catches up fast—especially given that everyone else is still frozen—but then her line of sight swivels back to me and she screams again as she catches sight of my hand on her arm. “Princess! Let go!”

“It’s okay,” I say. “Baelen has my power.”

She’s shaking. She doesn’t argue with me. “We have to help him.”

I’m relieved to know I was right about her: that she wouldn’t get distracted by the details. “Please, I need your help.”

I hurry with her to where Baelen lies. She immediately starts assessing his wounds, deftly peeling off parts of his armor, clicking her tongue unhappily.

I say, “I need to know if there’s anything you can do for him. I need to know if I have any alternatives.”

“Alternatives to what?” she asks, but she’s already distracted. “These wounds were caused by blades strengthened with sorcery. There’s no other way to pierce Rath armor. His wounds are deep, but it’s strange… He’s not bleeding. It’s almost like he’s…”

“Paused?” I ask, using the Storm’s description. “You’re right. He used the thunder on himself. What I need to know is whether you can heal him?”

She shakes her head, stricken pale. “A mortal wound caused by sorcery can only be countered by deep magic.”

Across the room, the Storm gives me a smug I-told-you-so shrug of her shoulders. I haven’t figured out yet whether Sahara can see her. I’m guessing not when the older female looks right through the Storm.

I return my attention to Sahara. “How do I find deep magic? Or create it? Or whatever it is that I do to get it?”

“The deep magic comes from life itself. You could give your life to save his, but somehow I don’t think he’d appreciate it.” She gives me a sad smile. “There’s only one other way, but it’s very dangerous.”

I sigh. “I have to go to Erador.”

She blinks at me. “How did you know?” She waves her own question away. “It’s only a whisper, but being the daughter of an Elven Commander has some advantages, such as overhearing things I’m not meant to hear. They say there’s a spring in the heart of Mount Erador—”

“Where the females can harness deep magic.” I sink beside her. “I was hoping there was another way.”

“Marbella… you’re not thinking of going there?”

“Of course I will. I love him.”

Her eyes fill with tears. She tries to blink them away, but they drip down her cheeks. “What can I do to help?”

“I need to unfreeze all these people. Then I need you to get everyone out of here before the Elven Command wakes up. Gideon Glory is dead. He was the main sorcerer, but the others are just as dangerous. You have to get everyone far away from here. Including your father.”

She chews her lip. “We can go to Rath land. It’s furthest from the city. Sebastian told me there are places to hide in the Rath mountains—Baelen showed him where.”

“The House of Mercy controls Rath land now. They will protect you,” I say. “My brother is already back at Rath land and he will make sure you’re safe. Thank you, Sahara.”

“Marbella.” She hesitates, but gently lays her hand over mine. It’s a gesture I never thought I’d experience again—a consoling touch. “Be safe.”

“I’ll come back. I promise. The Elven Command is corrupt. It can’t be allowed to continue. But I have to help Baelen first.”

She nods while I rise to my feet.

“Storm!” I call, hoping I don’t confuse Sahara too much by speaking to something that’s not there. “A hurricane is called for. Something that will whisk those males to a place where they can’t get out for a while. And keep them frozen for as long as possible.”

The Storm ponders my request for a moment. “The bottom of the river? A dungeon?” Her eyes light up. “No… I know… The Storm Vault.”

How perfect. “You’ll have to seal its doors.”

“Of course.” She grins. “With pleasure.”

A mini tornado builds as I watch, catching up the Elven Commanders in its pull and tug, spinning them round and round. It spins toward the doors, pushing them open with ease, and the Commanders disappear from sight.

The Storm gives me a distracted smile.

I say, “I wasn’t sure if you’d stay here with me.”

“Of course. I stay where you are. But let me concentrate so I get this right.”

I trust her to do what she says and I can’t waste any time by hovering over her. If I’d created the thunder, then I could release everyone at once, but since it was Baelen, I have to touch everyone to bring them out of it. That’s twenty Storm Commanders and fifteen of Baelen’s soldiers. After so long not touching anyone at all, I brace myself for my senses to go haywire with sensory overload.

I brush my hand lightly across Jasper’s arm and then Sebastian’s. They’re the least wounded and will be able to help the others. Also, I trust that Sahara will explain to them what’s happening. I’m not sure how many difficult conversations I can handle right now. I don’t try to stop them running forward like they were about to. Sahara’s right there to catch up with them, drawing them to a stop before they race toward Baelen.

I cross the floor to Jordan, Elise, and Reisha next, but I’m not prepared for how emotional I am. They’re all wounded because of me. I drop to my knees next to Jordan who lies between Elise and Reisha. I stroke Jordan’s hair to wake her up, reaching across to touch Elise’s arm at the same time. They both gasp, turning onto their backs, staring at the ceiling, trying to get their bearings.

“Princess?” Jordan tries to get up first, while Elise uses her elbow as leverage, wobbling and squinting at me.

“Sahara!” I call. “We need help over here.”

“It’s okay,” Jordan says, holding up her hand. “I’m okay. Elise?”

Elise rubs the back of her head. “Just dazed. I’ll be fine.” She suddenly jolts upward with a new urgency. “Where is Commander Rath? What happened?”

“He’s…” I swallow. There’s no easy way to tell them what happened or that I’m leaving. It all tumbles out at once. “He’s hurt but I’m going to do everything I can to help him. But I have to leave you and I need you to be safe.”

I help them to their feet, grateful that the pause in time must have given their bodies moments longer to heal.

“Princess, we’re coming with you,” Elise says. “Wherever you’re going.”

I shake my head. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I need you to follow Sahara’s instructions. The Elven Command is gone for now, but they won’t be contained for long. I need to know you’ll be safe. Promise me you won’t come after me.”

“Where are you going?” Jordan demands, always loyal. “You have to change your mind. Let us come with you.”

“No, my dear friends.” Before they can stop me, I hug them both at once, tears leaking down my cheeks even though they freeze, aghast.

Elise almost shrieks in my ear. “Princess! What are you doing touching us?”

“It’s okay. Baelen has my power.” It seems to be my new mantra, repeated everywhere I go.

“Oh. Okay then…” Jordan and Elise suddenly hug me back. A big, warm hug to make up for all the hugs I haven’t been able to have. I haven’t woken the rest of the Storm Command yet but I wish I could hug them all.

“Look after each other,” I whisper, pulling away before I don’t have the strength to leave my friends.

Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I drop to Reisha next, making sure that Sahara is ready to tend to her. Then I walk around the rest of the group, quickly assessing who is least and most wounded, leaving the most badly wounded until last, waiting as long as I can to make sure Elise and Sahara are ready to help them.

Finally, I wake Teilo Splendor. He holds his head in his hand, squinting up at me. “Princess, you’re alive.”

“Your daughter will tell you what needs to be done,” I say, turning away from him.

“Forgive me,” he calls. “I should have seen their betrayal, their sorcery.”

I don’t know what to say so I keep walking, returning to Baelen where the Storm is waiting again. My friends are all busy now, helping each other. I take a moment to close my eyes. I need to get to Erador as fast as possible, which means I need transport. I need a bird with fiery wings that isn’t afraid to carry the storm on its back.

Phoenix! I cry inside my mind. You said I could call you if I needed your help. Please help me.

There’s a brief moment of silence. Then…

I’m outside when you’re ready.

I sink to Baelen’s side as relief washes through me. But I have another problem. I whisper to the Storm, “I need to move Baelen, but I’m not sure how.”

“Oh, that’s easy. Wind will help us.” She lifts her hands and Baelen’s body rises off the ground. “Which way do you want to go?”

On any other day, I might have smiled at how easy she makes it look to float him upward with a mere lift of her hands. Now, I’m just grateful that it can be done. “Outside. A friend is waiting for us.”

I rise to my feet, but before I can take two steps, Jasper blocks my path. His armor is dinted. Like the others he bears welts across his face and lower arms. I wince as I picture my lightning cutting across his body like whips.

He says, “I’m coming with you.”

I shake my head, maneuvering around him, which is difficult now that more elves are awake. I already told Jordan and Elise that they couldn’t come with me. I’m not changing my mind for Jasper. “No.”

He swiftly steps into my path again. His eyes flick left to where the Storm hovers. For a second, I think he can see her, but then I realize he’s looking past her to Jordan and Sebastian. They’ve taken a moment to embrace each other, their heads together, the relief on their faces visible even from here.

Jasper says, “If I’m going to leave my family, it has to be for something more than hiding out and surviving in the mountains.”

“Jasper, I’m going into gargoyle country. I might never make it back.”

“The same way you walked out of a gargoyle’s nest?” His gaze is piercing. “You survived that. I think you have the chance to survive this.”

My jaw drops. He has to be talking about the nest I found on Scepter Peak. He’d come upon me as I exited the nest but I never suspected he knew it was there. “You knew it was a gargoyle nest?”

He shrugs. “It’s not the first one I’ve encountered. You can use my help, Marbella. So can Baelen. He made me promise, right from that first trial, that I wouldn’t let any harm come to you. I’m not going to break my promise to him. Let me come with you.”

He stares at me with earnest eyes. He kept me alive on Scepter Peak—we kept each other alive. I wasn’t expecting help, didn’t think I needed it, but where I’m headed I know I’m going to need it. Besides, he’s really not going to budge and he’s blocking the door. “I guess I can take one more. Follow me, please.”

Baelen floats along beside me as I reach the doors. I’m not sure what Jasper makes of that, but I’m hoping he thinks I’m using the storm’s power to move Baelen on my own. It’s close to the truth.

I pause there for a moment. Behind me, all the people I love—my family—are taking care of each other, preparing to leave, preparing to go into hiding. My heart tugs with the knowledge that I’m about to leave them, but I’m determined that I’ll see them again. I will come back and end the Elven Command’s reign over them.

I step out into the light with the Storm and Jasper on my heels.

The Phoenix waits for me, its wings tucked in at its sides, taking up all of the space across the wide cobbled path.

Princess, it greets me.

“Thank you for helping me, Phoenix.”

I gesture to Jasper to get on the Phoenix’s broad back and then turn to the Storm, keeping my voice low. “Please tell me you can tether Baelen to the Phoenix.”

“Of course,” she says. “I’ll do it this once, but I can teach you how to do it yourself. That way it will look less strange to your friend.”

“Thank you. And his name is Jasper.”

The Storm floats Baelen up onto the Phoenix’s back beside Jasper and a thin line of lightning appears around Baelen like a silver rope. The Phoenix spreads its wings to allow the lightning to stretch all around its body, keeping Baelen in place. It’s a good thing the bird is so enormous given that it’s about to carry three of us.

“He won’t fall,” the Storm promises. “The Phoenix has melded with the lightning so it’s practically part of its own body.” She lifts off the ground. “I will ride the wind. I’m ready when you are.”

I climb on behind Baelen, placing his head in my lap and my hand over his heart, listening for the calm, slow thump of his heartbeat.

I vow to you, Baelen Rath, I will bring you back to me.

I don’t know what Erador holds for me, but I will find the springs and heal Baelen. No matter what it takes.

The Phoenix contemplates me with fiery eyes, spreading its wings and preparing to take flight. Where do you wish to go, Princess?

“To Erador,” I say. “To the gargoyles.”