by Bec McMaster
“It just seems too easy.” Bryn paced the ledge. “A princess nobody has ever heard of, who is locked away in the darkest pit in this forsaken mountain, and we’re going to rescue her. Just like that.”
“I don’t ask the questions,” Tormund said, jerking a thumb toward Haakon. “That’s what he’s here for.”
Haakon’s lips thinned, and he peered into the pit. “It does seem unusual. Árdís is overjoyed at the thought of a sister, but—”
“Here they are,” Bryn cut him off, capturing a glimpse of a pair of figures emerging from the darkness below.
Marduk stood at the base of the pit, staring up at them. “Throw down your rope, Dragonsbane. My sister is too weak to climb the walls.”
Behind Marduk, a slender figure slid out of the darkness, her hair a pale, silvery blonde. She seemed tiny in comparison to her brother, her shoulders narrow and a sack of a dress hiding the delicate lines of her body, but the shadow that stretched behind her seemed to dwarf Marduk’s.
The hairs down Bryn’s spine rose as she laid eyes upon the princess. This is wrong, all her instincts screamed. She could practically feel the air growing thick and heavy, and the metallic taste of magic bled across her tongue.
The pair of them had eyes for no one else. It was like watching two halves of a whole finally reach for each other.
But at the last moment, the princess looked up at the cell door, and a shiver ran down Bryn’s spine. There was an almost green tint to her irises, as if—
“Come with me,” Marduk told his sister as their hands finally touched.
Power jolted through the world, and the cavern began to buck as if the mountain was finally done protesting.
Bryn staggered against the nearest wall, Tormund slamming into her hard. His arms wrapped around her and he bore the brunt of the assault, but they were not done yet.
“The volcano is about to explode!” she screamed as pebbles began to rain from the roof.
“The rope!” Marduk yelled.
Haakon tossed it down into the pit. “Thought dreki princes didn’t need human assistance.”
Bryn seized Tormund’s collar, drawing his gaze. “Something’s wrong with her,” she insisted.
His brows furrowed. “Maybe she’s scared. She’s spent her entire life in here alone.”
Of course, he couldn’t see it. The stupid fool was one step away from draping his cloak over a puddle for her. He’d take one look at the princess and see a fragile victim.
“No.” Bryn shot a glance toward the pit. “Her eyes. Did you see her eyes?”
This time, there was doubt in his expression. “Maybe they’re glowing green because of her magic. Rurik’s often give off a golden light—”
“Green is the color of warped magic.” Of all the gods, only Loki dared touch such power.
But it was too late.
Marduk hauled himself over the edge of the pit, a thin pair of arms draped around his shoulders. The second he made the ledge he turned and lifted the frail figure into the air, cradling her against his chest.
“You’re safe,” he whispered, brushing silver-blonde hair off the woman’s face. “I’m going to get you free of this filthy place, and you’ll never have to come back. I promise you.”
“Later,” Tormund told her, grabbing hold of Bryn’s arm as she moved to open her mouth. “The roof’s starting to rain stones. We can have this discussion outside, once we’re back on the mainland.”
He spoke sense. There was no time to bring up her concerns.
“This way!” Marduk yelled, hauling his sister along with him.
Bryn sprinted into the passage.
Leaping over a fallen dreki guard, Bryn skidded to a halt as she beheld the stairs. They’d never make it in time. There were so many of them. She stared up in dismay at the enormous cavern roof, and the hole far above them that spilled sunlight into the center of the mountain.
It was barely a pinprick.
Golden light washed over her from behind, and then an almighty roar shook the world.
She spun, hand on her sword, as her eyes finally made out the image of an enormous golden dreki flaring his wings. There was no sign of Marduk, but the way the dreki hovered over the frail Ishtar proved the dreki’s identity.
“Climb on!” Haakon yelled, scrambling up the slope of the dreki’s tail.
He nestled in behind Marduk’s wings, straddling the creature’s spine. Ishtar followed him, her face tilted toward the light above them as if she’d never seen its like.
“Wait.” Tormund looked back toward the tunnels. He shot her a frustrated glare, then bolted back into the darkness.
“What are you doing?” she screamed, as Marduk roared behind them.
Tormund slid to his knees beside the fallen dreki guard, slinging the bastard’s arm over his shoulder. “I can’t just leave him here. He can’t move. He’ll die.”
“You can’t save them all!”
“But I can save this one.”
“He’s the enemy!” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.”
Knees straining, he hauled the dreki guard half over his shoulder. “Aye, well, I’m not the kind of man who can just walk away.”
The weight was too much for him, she saw. Dreki were heavier than they looked, and the guard had an inch on Tormund. But she knew he wouldn’t give up.
“Damn it.” Bryn slipped under the dreki’s other arm, helping to share the burden. “You’re the stupidest man I know.”
Their eyes met.
“Stupidly brave,” she amended.
“You don’t have to help.”
And it was true. She’d done her task: Marduk was found, and as soon as they were free of this blasted mountain she could summon the warlord of the Sadu clan.
“I could never forgive myself if you die in the bowels of a mountain,” she growled. “All I would hear in my dreams is, ‘I could have died an old man if you didn’t drag me into this hell forsaken mountain’. Your ghost would haunt me. I know it. I would never have peace.”
Tormund laughed. “Is that the sound of a heart beating in your chest? Are you growing fond of me, Brightfeather?”
That name. She gritted her teeth. “I’m starting to regret this decision already.”
Together they hauled the guard toward the waiting dreki prince.
“Thank you,” Tormund said as Haakon shook his head and hauled the guard onto Marduk’s back.
“Never. Again,” she told him as she climbed up behind the guard.
The volcano shook as if the gods heard her oath, but that was only pure superstition.
The gods had abandoned her long ago. The only one she could count on was herself, and if she continued to follow this fool, then she’d get herself killed.
Nine
Marduk landed by the lake, listing badly under their combined weight.
Behind them, the Kamchatka volcano spewed heat and ash into the air, though the mountain had finally ceased its incessant shaking. Tormund slid from Marduk’s golden back, gaping at the mountains in the distance.
Holy shit. What had happened?
“Here,” Haakon said, lowering the semiconscious guard down from Marduk.
Tormund caught the dreki warrior under the armpits and laid him beneath the shade of a tree. The guard hissed at him, trying to draw his knife with shaking hands.
Tormund took the knife off him. “I saved your life, you fool.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” the dreki demanded, his eyes rolling toward Ishtar.
“Rescued the princess, saved the prince, and set a dreki court on fire.” Tormund said with a shrug. “A good day’s work, really.”
The princess clambered down from Marduk, her green eyes wide and anxious. Her nostrils flared as she backed away from them, her teeth bared. A simple dress of homespun covered her slim form, though it was badly stained and torn in places.
“She is Alal,” the guard hissed.
“I don’t spe
ak your language,” Tormund replied, “but from what I can see, she looks like a frightened young woman who’s been kept in a cage her entire life.” His voice roughened. “I don’t like cages.”
“She was caged for her own safety, her magic safely warded away from her. Do you think Kronotsky spews fire of its own accord? She set off the entire chain of volcanoes. Did you not feel it?’
Tormund glanced toward the distant mountain, feeling a little troubled. “It is well known that dreki can manipulate the elements.”
“Not like this,” Bryn whispered, staring at the volcano. “She didn’t just set off this volcano. I felt the vibrations of her power echo through the world. It’s raining fire all along the peninsula.”
Hell. “We’ll see what Sirius says.”
Bryn knelt by the guard, setting her knife to his throat. “Alal. It’s a Sumerian word, isn’t it? What does it mean?”
The guard tipped his chin up. “It means Destruction.”
An edge of ruthlessness crept over her expression and she slowly stood, flipping the blade into her hand before turning to glance at Ishtar.
Frigg’s tits.
Tormund recognized resolve when he saw it.
He stepped in her way. “She’s just a young dreki princess who’s scared.”
“We don’t know that. Dreki are arrogant beasts, and I’ve never seen an entire clan so frightened of a ‘young dreki princess’ before.” Trouble filled her eyes. “The völva spoke of destruction too.”
“He also said she’s his twin sister, stolen at birth by the queen of these lands and locked away.” He dared to reach out and cup her shoulders. “She deserves a chance, Bryn. And that völva has spent many years communing with the dead. I don’t think she was entirely sane.”
“The omens are lining up. Sane or not, that völva was scared.”
“Prophecies, omens….” He shook his head. “I’ve heard of a lot of women burned at the stake for less.”
“Every culture has their own prophecy,” she argued. “The Destruction of All. Ragnarök. Ragnarök, Tor! How can we take the chance? She needs to be contained until we can discover just how dangerous her magic is.”
“Are you going to tell Marduk his sister needs to be put in chains?” Besides, he could feel the ground rumbling beneath his feet. What good would chains do against that much power?
The dreki prince was trying to speak to his sister, though she hissed away from him, clutching at her ears. A thin trail of claw marks bled across Marduk’s cheek, though it didn’t seem to sway the prince. The more he tried to comfort her, however, the more overwrought she became.
Tormund sighed. “Stay here. And put your bloody knife away. We’re not chaining anyone up.”
“Tormund—”
He strode toward the princess, slinging the heavy fur cloak from his back. The air held the crisp chill of early winter, and though there was no snow on the ground down here in the plains, she had to be cold.
“May I try?” he asked the prince.
Marduk flashed him a dangerous look, but Tormund held his hand up. “Peace, my prince. Your sister has been locked away in a cold, dark hole for years. This may be overwhelming for her.”
Marduk pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can hear her song in my head. It sounds like the crash of waves against a cliff, or a raging storm. I can barely shut it out.”
“Then let me try.”
Marduk gave a brief nod.
Tormund gave the princess space, holding out his cloak toward her. “Here,” he said. “This is warm and heavy, and if you pull the hood over your head, it will cut the brightness of the sun’s rays.”
Ishtar dug her nails into her forehead.
He set the cloak down beside her. “Would you like to sit by me?”
It was as though she didn’t hear him. Instead, she whirled upon him in a flurry of teeth and nails—as if the storm that was pushing at Marduk overwhelmed her.
Tormund enveloped her in a big hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. At first she fought to break free. But eventually her struggles became weaker, her sobs a little less fractured. And then she relaxed limply into his arms as he squeezed her gently.
“It’s all right,” he whispered. “It’s all right. I know there’s so much to take in right now. I know this is all strange to you. Friend Tormund is here. It’s all right. You’re safe.”
When he lifted his head, both Bryn and Marduk watched him with surprise. He gestured to his cloak, and Marduk swiftly gathered it for him.
“I’m going to put my cloak around your shoulders,” he told her. “It’s nice and heavy and warm. You can wrap yourself in it, and nothing will be able to touch you. You’ll be safe.”
She trembled as he slowly eased his arms from around her, replacing them with his cloak. Burying herself in the cloak, she pulled the hood up until he could barely see the tip of her nose.
“Why don’t you sit here under the shade?” he suggested, pointing to the nearest tree.
“Thank you,” Marduk said quietly as Tormund stepped aside. He knelt beside his sister, slowly offering her something to drink from the flask Bryn had given him.
Bryn’s stare had softened when she looked at the dreki princess. “You dealt with her well.”
“She’s not something to be scared of,” he said, a brief moment of anger filling him. “My cousin’s daughter, Kari, has moments where the world overwhelms her. It took a few years to realize what she needed at those times. She likes the quiet and the dark, and she has a special patchwork blanket that makes her feel safe. It’s this ragged old thing Leah would love to take and repair, but even washing it upsets Kari, so Leah has to leave it alone.” He looked toward the princess. “Ishtar’s just frightened, and her magic is powerful.”
Bryn looked away. “Her magic scares me.”
And it was that, perhaps, that did the most damage.
“People fear what they don’t understand,” he said. “Perhaps Ishtar’s magic has the potential to destroy the world, but I don’t think she has the intention of doing so. She’s just lashing out when she’s frightened.”
“Every day, you surprise me anew.”
He bumped shoulders with her. “Third rule of defense: You don’t always have to attack that which you don’t understand.”
An implacable expression crossed her face. “In my world you do. Or you did. Otherwise you were dead. Attack first. Ask questions later.”
It was the slightest hint of insight into her background, and every part of him urged to demand more. But patience would be the key to unlocking her.
“As much as I’d hate to reverse your good work,” Haakon called, “I think we need to prepare to leave. Our surly overlord is here. And it looks like he’s got company.”
He tilted his head toward the sky, where an enormous black dreki glided toward them. In the distance, circling around the volcano like a stirred heap of ants, were dozens more.
Sirius. Thank all the gods.
Marduk scrambled for Tormund’s axe, wrenching it from his sheath.
Tormund staggered off balance. “What are you—? Oh.”
Sirius alighted with a flap of black wings. Golden light shimmered over him, and then he was shrinking, melding into a naked man crouched on a rock.
“You’re working for him?” Marduk demanded, backing away with Tormund’s axe held between them.
“With him,” Tormund corrected. “Haakon’s in charge. And can someone put some trousers on that bastard? There are ladies present.”
“Don’t rush on my account,” Bryn said, staring appreciatively at the dreki prince.
“Perhaps I was speaking of poor Ishtar,” he growled, “who’s been buried in darkness for so long that I’m sure the last thing she wants to behold right now is her cousin’s bare ass.”
Bryn tilted her head to the side, trying to peer past him. “It’s an excellent ass.”
Tormund deliberately stepped in her way.
“Cousin.” Sirius stra
ightened with a smirk. “What’s wrong? You don’t look pleased to see me.”
Marduk whirled on the three of them. “You said my brother sent you.”
Tormund held his hands up in a placating manner. “He did. Things have… changed within the Zini clan. Your brother Rurik overthrew your mother. She’s dead. Sirius killed her.”
Marduk shook his head. “She’s not dead.”
“I assure you, she is,” Sirius replied, catching the pair of trousers Haakon tossed toward him. His lip curled. “Are these yours?”
“I believe you tore through your last pair when you shifted in a hurry,” Haakon replied. “So unless you think you can fit into Bryn’s or Tormund’s, these are your only option.”
Sirius sighed and began to haul them up his legs. “They stink like you.”
“Maybe princesses won’t flee in fear then,” Haakon replied coldly, in reference to the time Sirius had tried to kidnap his wife.
Tormund snickered. They were a little snug.
“I don’t think the trousers are doing what you intended,” Bryn replied, her eyebrows arching. “That’s almost obscene.”
“Put your eyes back in your head. He’s not that handsome.”
She shot him a dubious look.
“Okay, fine. He probably is that handsome.”
Marduk still held the axe lifted over his shoulder, though he glanced between them as if trying to read the situation. “Rurik is allied with Sirius? My brother, Rurik?”
“If you’d been answering their psychic calls,” Sirius said, “you’d know the answer to that question.” A dangerous smile crawled over his mouth. “You’re looking at the new warlord of the Zini clan.” He gave a courtly bow. “I am here on your brother’s orders to return you to the court at Hekla. Preferably in one piece, though I’m not too concerned if it’s in chains. Rurik might quibble on that fact, however, so I’m trying to be nice.”
Marduk slowly lowered the axe. “The world’s gone mad.”
“Truly.” Sirius glanced back at the volcano. “But there’s little time to speak of it. Zorja’s gathering her forces. What happened in there?”
“Ishtar and Marduk touched hands,” Bryn told him, “and the mountain started to shake.”
