The next morning, there are no messages from the Elven Command about the final battle. I was expecting something already but Elise makes reassuring noises at me. “They’re bound to send word soon. In the meantime, we need to talk.”

She drops us into a sound bubble at the breakfast table. She hasn’t touched her food and neither have I. Anxiety builds inside me with every passing minute that we don’t hear from the Command.

I try not to look at the door for the thousandth time expecting a messenger to arrive. “What have you found out?”

Her forehead crinkles. “There have only been five deaths in the past month. It’s actually the least in terms of averages. Of those, four were elderly and their passing was expected. The fifth was a female who had been ill for some time; also expected.”

“None of the deaths were untimely?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Well…” I grasp at straws. “What about disappearances? Deaths that might have been covered up?”

“I looked into those as well. There was one disappearance but the female was found safe and well.”

“Then we’re no closer to figuring out the origins of the curse.” This is not the news that I need right now. I glance at the door again. I need to know about the final battle and I need to know who’s behind the curse. By the look of things, I’m not going to get either of those pieces of information any time soon.

Elise prods at her plate. She’s been slowly turning her eggs into mush as we talked. “The only thing I can think is... no… it’s not likely…”

“What Elise? I’ll take any information right now, even something unlikely.”

She drops her fork. It clatters against the side of her plate but she’s too distracted to notice. “What if the death hasn’t happened yet?”

“But… the final battle’s supposed to be tomorrow. That would mean someone has to die today.” I’m going to leap out of my skin now. If what she said is true then any minute now the curse could be completed and I have no way of knowing who is going to die so that I can stop it from happening. “The victim could be anyone.”

She chews her lip, momentarily silent, her gaze flashing around the room. My Storm Command is used to Elise and I having private conversations—and they’d expect us to have even more in the lead up to the fight—so they don’t pay us any attention. “Actually… I can’t be sure but… I think such a terrible curse would have to stem from a connection with the storm.”

“Then… someone in my Storm Command?” I stare at her, fear rising fast inside me. “Jordan? You?”

Her voice drops to a whisper. “I don’t know, but we need to remain vigilant. I’ll send word to Jordan to keep a look out for anything suspicious and to be on her guard. I think you need a Storm Commander sooner rather than later. Did you have anyone in mind?”

“Reisha Gild,” I say without hesitation.

“Okay then, I’ll make that happen. In the meantime, stay calm. This is all just maybes. We don’t know any of this for certain.” She’s back to her usual calm self and I’m incredibly grateful for the way she balances me out. My emotions are going haywire. The threat of losing Baelen is already tearing me apart. I can’t lose anyone else close to me. Even ‘maybe’ is too much possibility for me.

I spend the rest of the morning secretly watching over my Storm Command instead of them watching over me, keeping track of where each of them is at all times and whether any of them seems ill or different in any way. By the time we finish lunch, there’s still no word from the Elven Command and I’m way past edgy. The battle is supposed to be tomorrow. They didn’t take this long with any of the other trials.

When it’s time to subdue the storm, I take off at a run to the Storm Vault, my ladies shooting concerned glances at me, but keeping pace around me. Even Elise rushes beside me, not speaking. She knows I can’t make conversation right now.

Even without touching steel, I’m crackling at the edges. The lightning inside of me is being fed by my anxiety and it needs to find a way out or I’m going to explode.

When we get there, I race through the inner rooms, but I pause before entering the Vault itself. “Elise, I need you to go back out there. You need to watch over my Command and make sure nothing happens to them.”

“But, Princess… you need me here.”

“I’m fine. I’m not in danger, but they are. I need to know they’re safe and you’re the only one who knows there’s a threat. Go. Please.”

It’s clear she doesn’t want to leave me. Her entire life is built around protecting me, especially while I’m in the Storm Vault—she’s never left me while I’ve been subduing the storm. I say, “Please. I know you don’t want to leave me, but I need you to protect them.”

She bows her head. “Yes, Princess. I’ll make sure nothing happens.”

“Okay, I’ll be out as soon as I can.” I wait for her to leave and then I step into the Vault without another moment’s hesitation.

Lightning leaps straight to me, giant threads of it twisting around my torso and legs, hugging me close. There’s a hurricane brewing in the center of the room, the biggest I’ve ever seen. I step into it willingly and for the first time ever the wind can’t pick me up. The whirlwind blows from the right so I push back at it, both hands up at my side. It beats at me, whipping my hair across my face, but I don’t lose my footing, leaning into the wind. In fact, the pressure against my body soothes my frayed nerves as I push through, one step after the other, grateful for the release of energy inside me. Finally, I make it to the quiet center, but I pause before stepping out of the hurricane, not ready to face the silence yet.

Thunder booms overhead so loud it makes my bones rattle. I turn my back to the pounding wind and tilt my palms up, allowing lightning to trickle upward, wispy like smoke. The wind quickly rips it away. I listen carefully to the storm, hoping to hear it speak. It had tried so hard to say something to me yesterday.

Today, it remains silent.

I step into the quiet center, tilt my head back, and close my eyes, waiting for the rain. It doesn’t come. Too soon, the hurricane begins to die down, the wind faltering like the rain did yesterday.

“What’s wrong, Storm?”

I wait, listening, but it doesn’t answer. Maybe there’s nothing wrong. Maybe I’m just getting stronger and that means I’m subduing it faster. I’m about to turn away from the quiet center and head through the dying hurricane again, when light suddenly streaks from above me, striking through the hurricane’s core. At the same time, the hurricane springs back into life.

A scream fills the air around me. It’s the Storm’s voice, shrieking like a wailing banshee: He’s here! He’s here and I can speak!

I crouch into a defensive position, ready for anything. “Who’s here?”

A wind tunnel splits off from the hurricane, the hissing sound forming the storm’s voice. It’s not me! It’s not my fault!

That’s what it said yesterday, but I have no idea what it’s talking about. I shout back at it, “Stop speaking to me in riddles!”

The wind tunnel whips around me, spinning from one spot to another. Somehow it avoids colliding with me while it says: I couldn’t see it before. I can only escape the Storm Vault when there’s a natural storm outside and even then, only a very small part of me can escape. I finally saw it two night’s ago, but I couldn’t tell you. I tried so hard, but I can only speak when he’s here.

A fine mist of rain washes across my face and drips to the floor where I think my jaw is located right about now. That’s the most the Storm has ever spoken to me. Much of what it said doesn’t make sense, but the fact that it’s talking to me in sentences is, well, unexpected would be an understatement.

“There was a rain shower two night’s ago,” I say, latching onto the only thing the storm said that makes sense.

A tiny part of me escaped and I saw her. She’s dying! She’s being killed for the curse.

Fear shoots through me like electricity, a thousand bolts of it. “Who’s dying? Tell me!”

The reverent one. The one before you. But it’s not my fault. I didn’t do it! I wanted to warn you, but I couldn’t speak…

Mai Reverie is dying!

I’m already running, pulling as much of the storm’s power to me as I race to the side of the Vault and yank open the door. I’ll need as much of the storm to fight whatever’s hurting Mai.

I’m so afraid for her that I make it halfway through the ante-room before I see Baelen. I never expected to see him in this place again.

I skid to a halt, my boots squeaking. I’m braced and uncertain. He’s locked in a fighting stance, eyes closed, and there’s no mistaking the ribbons of heartstone light curling around his shoulders and neck. He shudders, shaking open his eyes, finally focusing on me.

Suddenly something the storm said becomes frighteningly clear: I can only speak when he’s here.

The first time the storm ever spoke to me to warn me about the curse was the very first time Baelen Rath stepped into the ante-room to offer me his heartstone. That was also the first time it spoke to Mai. The second time it spoke to me, he was waiting for me before the first trial. He wasn’t here yesterday when it couldn’t speak, but now he is.

He shakes his head again, releasing his body from its locked stance, clears his throat, and focuses on a point past my shoulder. “I’m only here as part of my duties as Commander of the Elven Army. I need to report—”

“There’s no time.” Whatever he was going to tell me, it’s nothing compared to the urgency of saving my friend. I can’t even allow myself a small moment of wishing he’d come to see me for any reason other than duty. “I have to go. I’m sorry, Bae.”

His focus zooms in on me for the split second it takes me to reach the next door.

“Wait, Marbella.”

The shock of hearing him say my name freezes me for long enough for him to stride to my side. Concern radiates from him in waves so strong that they hit me square in the heart. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

For a moment I pretend that the last few days never happened, that I’m not going to fight him tomorrow. This is Bae whom I trust with my life. “Mai Reverie’s in danger. I can’t explain. I have to go to her right away.”

He doesn’t ask any more questions, but instead shoves the door open for me, keeping it wide while I run through. Instead of remaining behind, he sticks to my heels. “I’m coming with you.”

There’s no time to argue. I shoot through the final door, shouting for my Storm Command to stand clear. The last thing I want is to hurt one of them while I’m full of storm.

“Reisha, take me to Mai Reverie’s quarters. She’s in danger!”

Reisha wastes no time with questions, trusting my commands, ordering two females ahead to clear the way while the others form a running wall around me. Baelen stays behind our group, but a quick glance tells me he’s close behind us.

“Where’s Elise?” I ask Reisha as we dash through the corridors out into the courtyard.

She hesitates long enough that I know I won’t like her answer. “The Elven Command called her to see them. It’s about the final battle.”

My heart can’t possibly plummet any further than it has already. “Did they say anything else?”

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Princess. I don’t know anything else.”

I grind out my words in between sucking in breaths to continue running. “I need her.” She’s a healer as well as a spellcaster and if Mai’s hurt then I’m going to need one. “Reisha, we need a healer. We need… Sahara Splendor!”

I don’t have to say anything else. Reisha calls out a command to the elf on her left and the female breaks off, sprinting away. I can only hope that Sahara hasn’t left the city yet to return to her home. That would be unlikely since Jordan and Sebastian are staying here for now.

We race across the square and through the outer wall of Mai’s quarters, finding her advisor Rebecca lying on her side beside a sculpted stone ornament in the garden. Reisha checks her. “Unconscious,” she says.

My Storm Command splits open to reveal that Mai’s door is closed and her windows shuttered. One side of my Command opens even further to allow Baelen to step through to me. It surprises me that he doesn’t have to say anything to them. They just let him through without question and I’m not sure how I feel about that. But I told them to protect him, so a very large part of me is grateful that they’re treating him with trust.

I return my focus to Mai’s closed door. An open door means no threat, but a closed one like this…

Reisha strides up to it, gasping when her hand connects with the wooden paneling. She snatches her hand back. “There’s something very dangerous inside this place.”

Baelen morphs into a Rath as Reisha speaks. He doesn’t draw the dagger he carries at his hip, but he doesn’t have to in order to appear fearsome. My lips almost lift at the memory of him standing outside the Storm Vault, standing way too close to me that first day, telling me that danger doesn’t bother him. I’ve never seen fear in his eyes except once and that wasn’t fear for himself.

I must be channeling his fearlessness, because I say, “Then we’re going in to find out what it is.” I signal to the rest of the Storm Command. “I’m going to open this door. Once I’m inside, follow me. Carefully.”

Reisha nods and copies the signal to those around her. The door is sealed with magic. It feels like the storm’s power but there’s something off about it, something not quite right.

I press my palms flat against the door, feeling the same electrical zap that Reisha must have felt. It bites my hand, unpleasant and unnatural, resembling lightning, but I can tell the difference. It’s not genuine lightning. The storm was right—this isn’t the storm’s doing.

I trickle real lightning through my fingers, allowing it to flow through the wood. Scorch marks spark on the door’s surface as the force flowing from me targets the lock and hinges keeping the door closed and upright.

The hinges warp, buckling under the force I’m exerting. With a blast of wind from my hands, the fastenings at either side of the door give way with a snap. My ladies don’t even flinch. They’re already focused on what’s inside the room, taking up fighting stances, weapons drawn and ready.

The door falls downward like a closing drawbridge, literally falling on its face toward the inside. But halfway down it stops, floating there. An outward force pushes back at us from inside the room. I harness the wind again and push against the door, harder, and it slams down like a welcome mat at my feet.

My now clear view into the room shows me that it’s been destroyed. The table has been thrown onto its side, books strewn across the floor, pages ripped out. Scrolls float in the air, suspended. The golden curtains are drawn and billow against the windows as if the room is full of wind. But like the force keeping the door closed, this isn’t from the Storm.

“The storm,” Reisha whispers while Baelen hangs back, allowing me to make my assessment.

“No. This is not the Storm.” Anyone else would think that the storm was at work here, that a hurricane has ripped through Mai’s quarters, but I can tell the difference. “This is spellcasting.”

There’s a groan from what looks like a pile of material in the center of the room. The material shifts, rising a little to reveal that it’s Mai herself bent forward over her knees.

She rests in a puddle of silk. Her slender arms flop at her sides, her shoulders slumped. Her hair is draped across her face. Like her Reverie kin, her hair is as red as blood, but there’s something very wrong with it. Something very wrong with her skin, too. Liquid drips from the top of her scalp all the way to the floor, pooling in the silken crevices of her dress. She’s raining from the inside. Except that it’s tainted with blood.

I race to her, sliding in the debris, skidding to a stop before I touch her or come into contact with the strange liquid pooling around her knees. I don’t care about the rules right now, but I’m worried that I could hurt her. Just because she was a Storm Princess once doesn’t mean she can handle the storm’s power, especially not now when something’s clearly hurting her.

“Mai, talk to me! Are you okay?”

I can’t see her face behind all her hair. Her voice is forced. “You need to leave.”

I frown, trying to detect her intentions from her body language. My instincts are screaming that she’s a threat to me, but I won’t leave her, not when she needs my help. “Mai, tell me what happened.

“Make them leave!”

I glance back to my Storm Command as they file into the room, forming a shield at my back. They’re staring at something to Mai’s left and I risk a quick glance in that direction. Partially hidden behind Mai, a body floats inches above the floor. It’s Mai’s husband, Darian. His hair hangs across his face and I can’t tell if he’s alive or dead.

I don’t want to tell my ladies to leave because I don’t want to be alone with Mai. Not because I’m afraid, but because the storm is an angry force inside me and it’s rising to meet the dark spell that’s been cast over Mai. Lightning crackles under the surface of my skin and I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or bad. A fight between these two forces can only lead to destruction.

I hesitate too long.

Mai screams. “Leave!”

A gust of unnatural wind shrieks through my ladies. It plucks them into the air, one by one, as they struggle and shout. They fight it, but each one of them is cast from the room, hands outstretched, some sliding through the door while others fly into the gardens beyond. At the same time, the wind tries to suck me upward too, plucking at my clothing and my legs, demanding that I leave.

I’ve fought worse than this. As I harness the lightning inside me, it reveals itself in snaking tendrils around my arms and legs. I won’t release it, but I need its power to keep me anchored against the dark force around me. I shake my head. “You can’t move me, Mai. I’m staying. I’m going to help you.”

A glow reaches me from the corner of my eye and Baelen steps up beside me. His heartstone light burns fierce against his skin, a deep burn around his torso and arms. The false wind swirls around him in the same way it rips at me, but he doesn’t budge. It can’t move him either. As he draws near to me, the light around him blends with mine, red and blue swirling into a brilliant purple glow between us.

I feel… stronger. Calmer. Like half of me was missing and it’s returned to me. I meet Bae’s eyes, not really sure what’s happening, just knowing that together we can beat the evil in this room.

As if admitting defeat, the wind lifts the door behind us, slamming it closed again.

We’re alone with Mai and it’s as if some of the spell lifts from her. She still doesn’t lift her head and blood-rain trickles from her fingers, drip-dripping onto her dress. But she slumps forward, and when she speaks her voice sounds more like her own. “The storm attacked us. Here in my home. It killed Darian. My husband… is dead.” She tries to twist in his direction, but unlike me, the wind is pushing her around, beating at her and forcing her forward. No wonder she was bent double when we got here.

My heart crumbles. Darian was Mai’s whole world. “Mai, please let me help you.”

“Darian tried to help me, but the storm killed him as soon as he touched me.”

I push against the wind, inch by inch, edging closer until I’m right in front of her. “The storm didn’t do this to you. This isn’t the storm. It’s some kind of spell.”

Up close, I search for her eyes beneath her hair. They’re wide, her pupils dilated. Tears track down her cheeks. She’s in pain but she’s hiding it. “A spell?” she whispers. “A spell killed my husband and now it’s killing me. Get out, Marbella. Please. While you still can.”

“I’m not leaving you, Mai.” I turn to Baelen. “I need you to pick her up. We have to get her out of here so Sahara can help her. Can you do that?”

He ploughs through the opposing force, striding against the wind so that it takes on the appearance of water streaming around his calves and thighs. It plasters his clothes against his body, clinging to his muscular chest. He slides one arm around Mai’s back, ready to scoop her up into his arms, but at the last moment, he flinches. “Marbella, she’s…” His agonized eyes meet mine. “Her body, it’s… frozen. She hasn’t moved because she can’t.”

He lifts her easily and she doesn’t fight him. As he pulls her up against his chest, her head tips back and her hair drips across his arms, but her arms are stiff and wooden and her legs are bent at the knees without moving, set at an awkward angle.

“Her limbs are already dead. The spell’s killing her from the toes up.”

“Bae…”

He meets my eyes across her head. “I’ll get her out.”

He pushes against the wind, leaning into it and I follow in the slipstream, conserving my energy for the task of getting the door open. When he reaches it, I slip around him, discovering that it’s much harder to pull open than it was to push from the outside. I grip the handle and pull as hard as I can but even without any hinges, the suction inside the room is too strong.

“Stand clear, I’m going to use the Storm.” I plant both palms against the paneling and let loose the thunder and lightning at the same time.

The door explodes outward, shards flying, but before they can fly into my waiting Storm Command, time slows. Splinters halt in the air. At the same time, the spell behind me makes a harsh sucking sound, trying to pull us back into the room like water rushing down a drain.

“Bae! Get down!” It’s the only warning I can give him before letting loose a blast of lightning into the center of the room. The explosion pushes us outward into the garden and at the same time the spell finally cracks, splintering, its force dissolving. Every floating object inside the room thuds to the floor. Darian falls too, and the smallest hope I had that he was still alive fades as his lifeless eyes stare back at me.

Bae is already hurrying down the path. Time speeds up as Sahara Splendor rushes toward us with Elise at her side, both of them hauling medical pouches.

“Hurry!” I shout. “Mai’s dying!”

Bae rests her down on a grassy patch at the side of the front path and retreats to allow Sahara full access. The elegant female wastes no time assessing Mai. “Paralysis. Fever… Necrosis!” She gasps. “Her body’s shutting down. Is this the Storm?”

“No!” Rage spirals through me. “Someone wanted it to look that way. It’s a spell. A cursed spell made to look like the storm.”

I pace back and forth as Sahara and Elise work over Mai. They examine Mai together, speaking quietly, conferring with each other. As they deliberate, Elise forms a bubble between her palms. Rainbow light swirls inside it. She tips her hands at an angle toward Sahara so that she can inspect the spell. As soon as Sahara nods, Elise rolls her hands gently across the bubble’s surface, pressing inwards, until the bubble shrinks to the size of a marble and then smaller. Finally, it forms a droplet that rolls off her finger across Mai’s lips. I hold my breath, hoping…

Sahara shakes her head, desperation flooding her posture. “That should have worked.”

Elise’s response is to conjure another spell, and then another, while Sahara injects medicines into Mai’s limbs. But the more they shake their heads and run their hands over their eyes—the more spells and medicines they try—the more I know they’re going to fail. My hands begin to shake and my heart thuds so hard in my chest it feels like it’s going to crash out of me.

“They can’t save her.” Sobs rise in waves, riding through my body, crippling me. Sahara is the most talented healer and Elise is the most talented spellcaster, but even they can’t stop the spell that is killing Mai limb by limb. I clutch my stomach, doubling over as the pain of losing my friend intensifies. “I’m going to lose her.”

Bae’s quiet voice anchors me, helping me rise without touching me. “Marbella, I’m here. Tell me what you need.”

What I need? Nobody ever asked me what I need. I need Mai to live. I need the trials to be over. I need to know that the Storm won’t be unleashed. I need to not fight Baelen tomorrow.

I need… Baelen.

The light I’d seen caressing his skin is gone now. He casts a shadow over me, blocking out the mid-afternoon sunlight, but it feels like shelter. A place to hide from the terrified glances my ladies give me, the anguish taking the form of tears streaming down Elise’s cheeks, the way Sahara slumps her head into her hands and begins stroking Mai’s hair, trying to make her comfortable.

Would it be so terrible if I told Baelen what I feel?

“I need… a gladiolus flower.”

He nods, flooding me with sunlight as he stoops to pick one for me, choosing one with delicate white flowers. I turn my palm up to receive it and he drops it into my waiting hand.

Elise interrupts our conversation, visibly shaking in front of us. She’s expended a lot of energy conjuring spells and Baelen steps up fast, allowing her to lean on him before she topples over.

Elise says, “Mai’s asking for you.”

My feet are lead as I cross the distance—five short steps that feel like a thousand. I drop to my knees beside Mai. Her breathing is short and sharp, her lungs constricted, her knees bent, and her hands folded across her chest.

She whispers, “I’m glad it wasn’t the Storm. She’s… angry and hurt. I don’t know why she became the Storm, but she’s not… truly evil.”

“I will find out who did this to you, Mai. I will find them and I will—”

“No… Don’t live for revenge.”

“Justice,” I say. “Not revenge.” I place the gladiolus flower against her cheek. My voice cracks, my throat tightening, and I have to swallow back my tears. “For honor. And strength. For everything you’ve done for me.”

She smiles as she inhales. “Thank you for bringing me… to my garden…” Her gaze flicks upward and I sense Baelen’s presence beside me. “You must… find… each other.”

The spell reaches her throat, stopping her breathing as it spreads across her face. She closes her eyes, peaceful, as her last breath exhales between her lips.

“Mai…” I drop my head to her chest, knowing that I can’t hurt her now. I wrap my arms around her and let my tears fall, dripping across her porcelain features as I place my cheek to hers. The place is suddenly swarming with spellcasters—the Elven Command’s lackeys—trying to see Mai, clicking their tongues at the destruction of her quarters, but Baelen stands watch over me while I mourn, refusing to let anyone near me, keeping them all at bay until I rise and stumble into the safe circle of my Storm Command.

I’ve lost Mai.

The curse is set.