Page 19 of King of Storms and Feathers

Before we reached the guard stationed on the kitchen threshold, I turned to Grendal. “The first time I saw the king, he was heavily armed. There were knives hidden all over him and at least two swords. Tonight, I didn’t notice any weapons on his body. Do you think that’s because the court is mostly peaceful?”

“Arrowyn has storm magic.” She snickered. “And did you not see his breastplate? Each feather is a dart, filled with a lethal dose of gold serum. One pluck. Whoosh, thunk. And you’d be dead.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling the guard’s eyes on us and pretending to check the trolley’s wheels to stall for time. “I’d better behave in the Grand Hall tomorrow night, then.”

A wicked smirk crinkled her gray eyes, then a dose of serum hit, and they glazed over. “Yes, Green, you had better.”

Other than the three servants we found mopping the floors, the kitchen was empty. When our jobs were done, Grendal took my hand and tugged me along the center aisle toward the stairs that led to the Grand Hall.

“It’s late. The Sayeeda must be busy with the king, which gives us the perfect opportunity to prepare you for tomorrow evening,” Grendal said, the serum definitely impairing her decision making.

“Good thinking,” I said, checking over my shoulder as we dashed up the stairs to be sure no guards had entered the kitchen behind us.

As I peered around a carved gold column at the top of the stairs, my breath hitched. Squeezing Grendal’s hand, I released a slow breath. “It’s incredible.”

The Grand Hall was at least five times larger than the massive kitchen. The marble floor, visible between long dining tables, flowed like a dark river, with veins of gold flaring under the light of hundreds of candelabras.

Scores of silent servants slid wheeled ladders beneath them, slowly extinguishing the flames. I marveled at the hours it must take them to illuminate and darken the hall every night.

The Court of Storms and Feathers’ Grand Hall was a glorious testament to wealth, power, and magic, manifested in jaw-dropping architecture.

I couldn’t recall what my home looked like, but I was certain I’d never entered such a grand and lavish place before.

My hungry gaze devoured the view. Enormous arched doors that led to starlit terraces lined both sides of the room, their golden frames etched with feathers and bolts of lightning. Palm trees and other monstrous-leaved plants towered around the oval hall. The largest two framed a black dais, reached by nine clear-crystal steps, upon which sat a throne of feathers enveloped by a sculpture of golden wings.

Grendal’s nails dug into my hand. “Look closely at the throne,” she whispered.

My eyes adjusted to the dais’s dark glow, revealing a figure slouching between the massive wings. The male released a loud sigh, then leaned forward, gold hair tumbling around hard, annoyingly beautiful features that sparked flames deep in my stomach.

Arrow.

The feathers around his neck chimed as he tossed a goblet onto the floor and stood up. “Enough,” he boomed, and the servants scurried off their ladders and left the hall through doors situated behind the dais.

For several moments, the king stared into the distance, his powerful arms hanging loosely at his sides, but his fists balled. He looked restless and troubled.

We should have left, but it felt like the soles of my shoes were stuck to the floor, and I couldn’t look away from the king.

As his arms spread wide, reaching for the ceiling, violent shudders shook his body. Thunder rumbled outside and lightning struck the windows. He groaned as power flowed into him, an aura of blinding white light outlining his tall frame.

Wind whipped along the hall, cloud-like whorls of tiny clear feathers sweeping around the candelabras and extinguishing every last flame.

Darkness fell over the room, and the king groaned like a dying man. Glowing like the sun and moon combined, he drew the storm into his chest with three quick movements of his hands, then collapsed over the dais stairs. Head in his hands, he laughed like a madman, the sound disturbing.

What could the ruler of the most powerful kingdom in the realms possibly be unhappy about?

Grendal tugged me down the stairs, and we ran through the kitchen and into the servants’ hall. Breathless, we stopped, both laughing as she clasped my face between her palms.

“Gods. That was something else. It was…” Her words trailed off as serum spiked in her blood, a milky haze veiling her eyes.

“Terrifying is the word I think you’re looking for,” I said, pushing her hands from my face. “His power is incredibly destructive. I had no idea.”

“He’s the King of Storms and Feathers. What did you expect his magic could do? Water the kingdom’s gardens and pluck the chickens with great speed? You’d better take care in the hall tomorrow. Don’t do anything to gain his attention.”

Gazing over her shoulder at the pitiful auron kanara in their cages, I scratched the side of my head, and let my focus soften as if a dose of serum had hit me too.

“Don’t worry, Grendal. I’ll be the best dinner server that the king will never see.”

Chapter 6

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