Page 49 of Master of Storms
Árdís smiled a toothy smile at him and waggled her fingers as in,I-can’t-hear-you.
“Silence,” the Blackfrost snapped as he peered intently into the mist. “They’re coming.”
Solveig ground her teeth together. It was something she should have been aware of. Marduk distracted her. Always.
She set her hand to the hilt of her sword. The wind whispered through the mist, stirring little eddies within it.
“I can’t see anything,” Árdís grumbled.
“You never were much of a hunter,” her husband muttered, stepping between her and the mist, his hand dropping to his sword. “They’re there. Watching us.”
And then a series of dark shadows appeared within the fog.
Nine enormous warriors, clad in leather armor and armed to the teeth as they strode toward them.
The precise number of their own party, which had to be deliberate.
Drekicourtesies were intricate at best. Tradition dictated that guests must both take and be met in mortal form in order to avoid draconian clashes. In theirdrekiforms, with full mastery over the elements, such a meeting risked setting off storms that would ruin the entire coast.
A tall woman appeared in the lead, gowned in a chartreuse silk that set off her dark skin. A heavy fur cloak obscured most of the gown and her black hair was braided into a coronet with little gold chains woven through each braid. Intricate, elegant, and effortless, by the look of her. Aslaug would have died of jealousy.
This must be the Ethiopian princess.
“I am Andromeda of theZilittuclan,” the tall woman announced. “And we have been awaiting you.”
Árdís inclined her head. “I am Árdís of theZiniclan. My felicitations on your recent mating.”
The two of them clasped forearms, the pretty blonde princess forced to look up into the other woman’s dark eyes.
“My sister.” Andromeda bowed her head, resting her forehead against Árdís’s. “You bear the gift of the goddess.” Her gaze slid toward Ishtar, her eyes widening slowly as she moved toward Marduk’s twin with her hands outstretched. “My sister.”
Árdís smoothly intercepted her, her body between them protectively. “This is my younger sister, Ishtar.”
“Of course.” There was a natural warmth in Andromeda’s smile as she bowed her head politely. “You shine like the sun. You are truly goddess-blessed.”
Greetings went between both groups.
“A little unusual that the queen greets us,” Marduk whispered in Solveig’s ear, his hands coming to rest upon her hips like an amorous suitor as he stepped up behind her. “When it should be the king.”
Solveig turned into him, rubbing her cheek against his and caressing the other side of his face. “I thought so too.”
But this conversation needed to be taken to another level.
Solveig opened her psychic senses, and Marduk accepted the link.
“She’s a powerful Chaos-wielder,” she mused. “I think they sent her because they knew your sisters were coming. I also think this King Draco didn’t wish to alarm you, so he presents the softer side of the court.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Zilittu I know.”
“It does when they want something,”she pointed out, her gaze sliding to Ishtar.“Just how powerful is your sister?”
A minute hesitation went through him. “Very.”
And then he withdrew from her link, which was a little telling in itself. This time, it was he who put his body between theZilittuand Ishtar. He offered his sister his arm, and their eyes met as if he was communicating privately with her.
“Come. Let us guide you to the castle,” Andromeda called.
And then she turned and strode directly into the mist, which parted as though someone swept aside a curtain.
