Page 73 of Of Kings and Thieves

The Harrow tilted his head, amusement dancing in his cold eyes. “You doubt the power of my creation?”

“Go fuck yourself,” I muttered to no one. If we survived this, I was going to need the stiffest drink Iron Deep had to offer.

“I have to thank you, Prince Andris,” The Harrow said. “Without you, we wouldn’t have been able to try this little experiment.”

Increasingly, I felt sick. And it had nothing to do with the fumes from the potion.

“Your appearance is the final thing we needed. We couldn’t even use the magic unless there was a person here to sacrifice himself for the greater good.” The Harrow snorted. “I’d hoped you would come, but I have to admit I doubted you. And for that I’m sorry, my prince,” he said, putting his hand over his heart. Then he smiled. “But Moredanea here didn’t doubt you. She had more faith in you than I did. She said you would come to me, and when you marched into the city yesterday, I could barely believe it when they came to get me at my palace.”

We figured The Harrow had ways of traveling quickly by walking the Darkrift, but this was the first time I had confirmation of it. Harrowfell was hundreds of leagues away.

Damn it. We had known Col was walking into a trap, but not this trap.

“And now that we have you, and we’ve used your blood, you can do us another favor,” The Harrow said.

“And what’s that?” Col ground out.

“Now that you know we have the magic to destroy your people, we can hold it over your head forever.”

“Why not just kill me and use the magic to rule?”

The Harrow shook his head as if he were a very patient grandfather lecturing a young boy. “I’m afraid that your people have hearts of iron, and I mean that as the best compliment. The threat of violence has done little to bring them in line. Yes, they probably do deserve death, and I could always bring in more people to work these mines, but that would set me back, and it’s not a delay I’m willing to risk, not if I can help it.”

“I don’t know how a vial of powder is going to help you in this.”

“Well, here’s how it’s going to work. You’re going to be king here, and you can even enjoy all the things that go with that title. But you will be getting orders from me.” The Harrow stopped his pacing and turned to stand in front of Col, who grimaced. “If you cross me in any way, I will destroy your entire kingdom, and now I have the means to do it. Thanks to you.” He clapped his hands and from the shadows of the door came more soldiers clad in armor with Moredanea’s symbol on their helmets. “And now for that demonstration!”

The soldiers dragged in a group of ragged, naked people tied together by the necks with rope. They were covered in untreated wounds and massive bruises. Many cringed and whimpered as they were jerked along.

It was all I could do not to scream for mercy as the soldiers forced the prisoners into a pathetic cluster before Col.

The Harrow nodded to Moredanea, vile pleasure in his eyes. She smiled, equally repulsive, and plucked a pinch of glittering powder from the vial.

“Wait,” Col said, his jaw clenched. “A demonstration isn’t necessary.”

The Harrow just smiled as he looked at Moredanea. “Oh, I think it is. You see, my dear pet needs to be sure it works. And since we can’t test it on you, these people will have to suffice.”

“No!” I shouted, straining against the guard holding my chain. But the bastard didn’t budge. Another guard clamped his hand down on my shoulder to keep me still.

Moredanea smiled widely at me. “Keep bursting out like that, and you’ll be next.”

She placed the powder into her palm and uttered a spell. I watched in horror as the ash sparkled in the torchlight, almost beautiful if not for its sinister purpose.

A great gust of wind tore through the courtyard, courtesy of Moredanea’s magic. It whipped her hair and dress around. The powder lifted and swirled, carried on the wind straight toward the prisoners.

Their screams would haunt me forever.

The powder hit them one by one, moving down the line. Before my eyes their flesh hardened to cold, dead stone. Each victim’s stony fate was unique in its horror. One man’s legs petrified first as he howled and thrashed in vain. A woman’s head turned to stone while her arms flailed wildly in protest.

“You bastard!” I seethed at The Harrow, while Col yelled something similar. The guards practically broke my arms holding me back.

But the damage was done. In mere moments, the prisoners were nothing but statues, their faces frozen in torment.

Col spat at The Harrow’s feet. “You don’t have enough to kill the whole kingdom.”

“Moredanea, is this enough to turn the entire kingdom to stone?” The Harrow asked lightly, as if discussing the weather. “I must say, they do make interesting works of art. I think I’ll display them in the Great Hall as a reminder to my subjects.”

“It shall be done, my lord,” Moredanea said. “To answer the prince’s question, we have ample supply. One gust of wind laced with the powder over Ironset, and it will become a city of stone statues.”

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