Page 2 of Storm of Fury
Sirius examined his claws. “Prince Marduk is hardly a myth. He’s a sniveling little coward who tucked tail and ran from the court.”
“I’ve met his mother,” Haakon muttered. “I would have run from that evil bitch too.”
“The queen has been dead for over two months,” Sirius replied. “The four winds have spread word of it all over the globe. So where is the prince? What has he been up to? And why hasn’t he returned? Marduk knows how dangerous it is for a fractured court to recover after a coup. He knows everydrekiclan in the northern hemisphere will be eyeing our territories with a gleaming eye—and our inexperienced king with barely disguised temptation.”
Haakon resettled his pack. “Thatisthe question. Árdís assures me that Marduk will know of Queen Amadea’s death and the threats against King Rurik’s claim.”
“There has to be a reason he didn’t return,” Tormund pointed out, trudging toward the edge of the cliff—and the meandering trail that worked its way down it. “And so, to find our missing prince, we have to find the reason he didn’t return.”
* * *
The summons came lateone stormy night.
Making her way to the address listed on the note she’d received, Bryn Brightfeather found herself staring into the face of a scowling innkeeper.
“Upstairs,” he said before she’d even gotten a word out, which meant she was expected.
A swift scan of the common room showed the usual crowd of patrons one would expect to find, yet there was an enormous, cowled figure in the corner, puffing on a pipe deep within his hood. And another giant leaned against the back door, a nonchalant hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he gave the room a glance she knew took in everything.
Two guards.
And not the mortal kind, judging by the tingle along her skin.
“Fourth door along,” added the innkeeper as Bryn turned for the stairs.
Bryn made her way up them, considering her options. A mercenary like herself couldn’t afford to pick and choose her jobs, especially whendrekiwere involved, but she had a bad feeling about this job and she hadn’t even heard what it involved.
She paused before the fourth door.
Thedrekidownstairs wouldn’t stop her from leaving. They were paid to protect the warlord within, not to keep guests from escaping.
But if she walked out that door then she’d no longer be considered Friend of theSaduclan. And while that friendship came with a price, she couldn’t deny they’d been the ones who had welcomed her into their mountain halls when she’d fallen.
Drekidid not give their friendship lightly, and in this mortal world she had few enough friends as it was.
So she knocked.
“Come in,” came a sharp command.
The door opened to reveal a room lit by a single lantern. A figure sat at a scarred table, scratching out a missive in swift cursive.
Bryn took a knee before the bed.Drekiwere always prickly, and it never hurt to assuage their arrogant selves. “You sent for me, Your Highness?”
Princess Solveig put the quill down and pushed away from the desk. “I did.”
Nobody would ever have called Solveig a beauty, and yet there was an arresting look to her hawkish features. Intense was the word for it. Here stood a woman of power, who was both comfortable in her own skin and inclined to wield that strength.
And though Bryn stood two inches taller than the other woman, she didn’t feel like it when Solveig was in the room.
The princess wasted no words. “I have a task for you.”
Bryn caught the pouch of coin the princess tossed in her direction, slowly rising to her feet. Heavy. And if her guess was correct, heavy with gold kroner, not mere brass pieces. “A dangerous bounty by the feel of it.”
“Correct,” the princess replied, her dark eyes flashing with heat. “I want you to bring me someone. Preferably in chains.”
That was interesting. In her experience, Solveig was cool, calculating and ruthless. Yet the brief storm that crossed her face hinted at some deeper emotion.
Whoever it was, Bryn spared him a moment of pity.
