Page 7 of Storm of Desire
And whoever had given this jeweler the necklace knewher.
"I don't want them," she snapped, shoving the tray back across the counter, even as her lungs strained for air. "Good day, Master Hjálmarsson. I shall return when you have moregoods."
She barely heard his stammering apologies as she escaped the jewelers. The crisp air was a shock to her skin, but she needed it. Her brother was involved in this. She didn't know what to think. He was miles to the east; to enterZiniterritory meant provoking a war with her mother, the ruling queen of Iceland'sdrekiclan.
But what if he'd sent anemissary?
Could this be the hope her people needed? Could their prince be returning? She wanted so very badly to believeit.
Árdís wrapped her cloak tightly around her shoulders as she turned toward the edge of the city, the heavy jangle of the coin purse at her side mocking her. Wind whipped the cloak out of her fingers, and she lookedup.
The storm wasworsening.
Black skies had curled over the town while she was within the jewelers, the rolling edge of dark clouds looming like an enormous wave about to come crashing down. Jagged flashes of lightning slashed the sky in the distance. Once, twice, thrice. Her fingers curled around her arms. Threedrekion her heels, if she wasn't mistaken. Clearly her presence had beenmissed.
But who had her mother sent to fetch her back tocourt?
One of them would be Sirius, of a certainty. The very rage within that storm spoke of the Blackfrost and hispower.
Árdís draped the hood of her cloak over her head, and turned into the nearest alleyway. She wasn't of a mood to return. Not just yet. All she needed was five minutes to circle the Viking Inn. It wasn't as though she intended to enter, but... maybe she could watch from a distance, and see if this truly was an emissary from herbrother.
Surely that wouldn't be temptingfate?
Footsteps whispered behind her as she wended her way through the narrow streets toward the inn. Shutters slapped against the nearby windows of a house, carelesslyuntended.
A whisper of movement stirred behind her, and a large shadow drifted across hers. A big man following her none too stealthily—though he was clearlytrying.
Árdís glanced sideways beneath her lashes, the weight of the gold burning a hole in her pocket. Someone thought torobher? Well, they were in for the shock of their life. She bared her teeth, feeling her fingernails sharpen into claws. This was no helpless markhere.
"You might as well come out," she called. "I could smell you from three streetsover."
Silence.
Árdís smiled as she turned toward the mouth of the alley behind her. "I should warn you—the cost of interfering with me might be your life. You'll find no easy preyhere."
An enormous young man stepped out of the alley, holding a sack, of all things. His cheeks burned. "I thoughtdrekiwere bound by the old laws. You can't killme."
"Why, you're just a boy," she said in somesurprise.
And notalone.
Others melted out of the shadows. There was a net. A man crouched warily, as if prepared to pounce upon her. She laughed. Did they not realize what they dealt with? Surely, if the young man knew what she was, then they would know what she was capable of. The people of Iceland had long grown used to the lords of theskies.
"Begone, you fools. Whatever you're being paid, it isn't worth the cost of your lives. I cannot take a mortal life, not at a whim. But I can strike down any who dare assault me first." The wind whipped her skirts around her calves, and she bared her teeth in whatmighthave passed for a smile. "And then, of course, the treaty specifically states I may not take a life. It doesn't say I cannot make youwishIhad."
The three men glanced between each otherwarily.
"You do it," the large boy muttered to the one with the net, gesturing toward her, as though he needed someone else to make the firstmove.
The net-caster's knuckles tightened, his muscles bunching. So be it. She'd given them enough warning. Árdís moved before he could. She turned and kicked the youngest one in the stomach, earning a loudwhumphfrom his throat as he staggered back into the nearest wall. The net fanned into the air above her, but she was already moving like the wind. Lightning flashed in the clouds above as she raked through the glistening ropes with her claws, parting the net likesilk.
It fluttered to the ground on either side of her, little sparks of bright light rippling through the rope.Thatwas interesting, and enough to distract her for asecond.
Magic.
And not the elemental kinddrekiused.
Someone grabbed her from behind, and the edge of a smelly hessian sack went over her head. Árdís drove her elbow back into the newcomer's sternum, and the harsh exhale of his breath sounded. Then she was whirling, spitting out the stink of the hessian sack as she ripped it free, and slamming her palm up into the boyish young man's jaw as he tried to grab her. Clearly he hadn't received her first warning with goodgrace.
