Page 41 of Storm of Fury
This one.
The prince was in this one.
And with him, both her freedom and her vengeance.
“Do you know the worst bit about this?” Tormund grumbled behind her.
“What?” Bryn knelt and examined the lock. Magical, by the look of it. Little runes were carved into the metal and even as she touched it, the runes flared golden.
“We have to climb all those stairs to get out of here.”
“If we’re lucky, we’re going to have adrekiprince who can fly,” Haakon replied tersely.
“Anyone know how to pick a lock?” Tormund squinted over her shoulder.
“I don’t need to pick it,” she replied, searching through the leather pouch at her hip. Her fingers closed around a golden key. “Here.”
Slipping the key inside the lock, she gave a twist and the lock clicked open.
Tormund blinked. “Where did you find the key?”
“It’s not the key to this lock, you idiot. It’s the Skeleton Key. The one Loki created that can open any door.”
Tormund looked impressed, but a hint of suspicion darkened Haakon’s eyes. “You have a Valkyrie’s sword, a dwarven compass, and Loki’s key?”
Bryn faltered, then forged ahead with bravado. “Girls like pretty things. In my case, I like flaming swords and immortal gifts. The pair of you hunt legendary beasts. I steal from the gods.”
“One day, we’re going to have a little discussion about your past,” Tormund muttered. “You’re an intriguing woman.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “I assure you, I’m not. I’m just a mercenary who’s fallen in with the odd rogue in my time.”
“Are you referring to us?”
Bryn rolled her eyes as she jerked the cell door open. The hinges squealed, which made her wince. “The pair of you are star-kissed fools who challenge fate on a daily basis, but no, you’re not the usual sort of rogue I share a job with. I don’t usually dare shut my eyes when I’m working with others.”
And she usually slept with a knife under her pillow.
“Marduk?” she whispered loudly.
Silence.
“Marduk?” Tormund echoed, a little too loudly for her liking.
“Who are you?” demanded a sharp voice.
Bryn looked down as the path ahead vanished into a pit of such darkness that some instinctual part of her cringed. Drawing her sword, she whispered a brief prayer under her breath and the tip began to glow. Despite its brightness, its rays barely penetrated the absolute blackness.
“Marduk? Prince Marduk?” she whispered.
A face swam out of the darkness below.
Tall, golden-haired, handsome bastard. But unmistakably inhuman. Those dragon-slit golden eyes gleamed with an inner magic, and muscle flexed beneath his bare shoulders like a cat’s.
“I am he,” the prince replied, his eyes narrowing. “Though I don’t know you.”
Haakon pushed past, bending to squat by the edge of the small ledge. “Your sister sent us to find you. I am Haakon Dragonsbane, her husband.”
That seemed to take the prince by surprise. “Husband?”
