Page 136 of Master of Storms
Andromeda’s shoulders straightened. “Using the queen as sacrifice might work. The problem is whether we can separate Elin’s soul from hers.”
Marduk shot them all a dangerous smile. “The first I can manage. The second…?” He tilted his head toward Draco. “That’s on you. After all, you’re the one with a blade that can separate a soul from a mortal body, are you not?”
Rurik’s attention locked upon theZilittuking. “A blade that can separate a soul from a body?”
Andromeda silently immolated Draco with her eyes. Clearly matters between them had not been resolved.
“Yes,” Draco snapped, pushing his chair back with a snarl. “I have such a blade. But it is currently in use, so the answer is no. No, I will not give you the blade. No, you cannot use it to draw your mother’s soul from the girl’s body. No. No. No.”
And then he stalked from the hall, even as Andromeda cut his retreating figure a sharp look.
26
Draco’s “no” still echoed through the keep.
Both courts had disbanded, each to their own chambers—no doubt to plot a way to convince the other to accept their terms—and Marduk had seen Solveig back to their rooms.
And then he went in search of wine.
The great hall seemed a promising start. He was halfway across it when he saw a shadow seated near the head of the banquet table. A single solitary male, resting his forehead in one hand as the fingers of his other hand toyed with an ornate goblet.
The lastdrekihe wanted to see right now. Damn it.
Too late.
The king’s head lifted, and there was no reasonable way to extricate himself from this situation without being obvious about it.
Draco gave him a nasty little smile. “Come to convince me to hand over my knife so you can rescue the girl?”
“No.” He started walking again, this time toward the table. “I was hoping there’d be wine down here. The flagon in our rooms tastes like piss, and Solveig’s sleeping. I was going to tuck myself up in a corner of our room and drink your best wine.”
The king merely watched him as he took another goblet from the set and filled it.
“What do you want?” Draco growled.
“An apology to start with,” he said, sinking into the chair beside the king. “You accused my sister of murdering your Chaos-wielders.”
“I thought you were returning to your room?”
“You look like the most miserable prick I’ve ever met,” Marduk said with a shrug. “I thought I’d stay here and gloat a little.”
And then he gave Draco a winning smile.
The king bared his teeth. “I’m not apologizing. I accused one of theZiniof being the perpetrator, and it seems I was right.”
Marduk sipped the wine. Not bad. Flemish by the taste of it. Draco certainly had fine tastes. “Technically, it’s Elin’s body, but the soul with the reins in hand seems to be my mother, and she’sZilittuto the bone. Or soul. Or whatever it is now.”
“You really wish to quibble about it?”
“I was just thrown into an abyss where I had to crawl over the bones of your former enemies before setting my mind alight in order to rescue my mate. Yes, I think I am going to quibble about it.”
“I’ll grant you this—no one’s ever escaped the Abyss before.” Draco’s gray eyes turned curious. “What was it like?”
“Wielding my sister’s magic?” He shuddered. “It was like peeling my own skin off from the inside. I don’t recommend it.”
“Mmm. They say the Goddess’s gift can only be wielded by women because she thought maledrekiwould use it to overrun the world.”
“While that’s a plausible theory, I have met my mother. If she could have walked over a field paved withdrekiskulls to put herself on a throne of the world, she would have done so.” Marduk thought about it. “She probably still intends to do so.”
