Page 34 of Storm of Fury
They finally reached the skirts of the volcano, slipping under the shelter of an overhang, before they could breathe easily.
Tormund was just about to brush the dirt off his hands when a trumpet of pure fury echoed through the mountains.
He froze.
The fog was starting to thin now, and the sudden harsh flap of wings sounded as though they were close enough to touch. Anotherdrekibugled, somewhere to the north. And then another. And another.
“That sounds like the localdrekijust realized there’s a big black lizard flying around out there,” he whispered.
Haakon gave a curt nod. “We need to move. And fast. Before they realize we’re here. That fog won’t last forever.”
* * *
Marduk kneltin Zorja’s private throne room, his hands clasped behind his head. There were no windows here. And only one door.
And by the look of the two enormousdrekiwarriors who had followed the queen inside, getting out of here would be close to impossible.
The queen sank onto her throne, crossing one leg over the other. “What are you doing here? How did you find her?”
“Who is she?”
“Answer the question,” she growled.
He considered his options.
This was not merely the woman who’d once been his aunt. Nor was she merely Sirius’s mother.
Zorja ruled adrekiclan by her own right, and she’d made a strategic alliance with his clan—with her former mate, Stellan—in order to secure her throne. She’d walked away from two sons in order to take that throne without a backward glance.
He wasn’t dealing with the aunt he’d heard rumors of, but a queen. And a ruthless one at that.
If he made a misstep here, it was entirely possible she’d put his head on a pike, family or not.
“I have heard her song all my life,” Marduk replied simply. “I didn’t know who sang it, or how to find them until several months ago. The song seemed to grow stronger and I could feel its pull increasing. It felt as though someone had slung a noose around my neck and was hauling me toward them. I can barely think for the sound of it. I can barely sleep. And so I came.”
“Illarion?” she asked sharply, turning her head toward one of the massive warriors at her side.
The warrior stared at Marduk flatly. Thick dark tattoos swirled across one half of his face in an ancient language Marduk couldn’t quite make out. “Her magic has been increasing of late. We’ve tried to contain it but she’s managed to breach the wards several times.”
Zorja’s long nails drummed on the edge of her gilt throne. “And why am I only now hearing of this?”
Illarion hesitated.
“Because we were aware she was communicating with someone in the outside world.” The gruff, beardeddrekion the other side of the queen stepped forward. He wore the same inky tattoos on his face as Illarion, and his eyes were flat and cold and merciless. “We wished to set a trap.”
Those tattoos….
Something about them stirred Marduk’s memory.
“Set a trap.” Zorja’s voice held entire octaves of disapproval. “In mycourt? With my people unaware of what may descend upon them? Withmeunaware of what you were planning? How dare you? Am I not your queen?”
“With all due respect, my queen,” thedrekireplied, “we serve our order first and yourself second.”
“You agreed to our terms when we first contained the girl,” Illarion replied.
Finally, that stray thought fought its way to the surface.
“You belong to the Keepers of Order,” he said incredulously. He’d thought them a myth told as bedtime stories todrekikits.
