Page 94 of King of Storms and Feathers

If I was honest with myself, I had to admit the king had performed many kindnesses toward me. All because he wanted me to beg and plead and tell him I loved him, when I could never feel that way about a man who wouldn’t give me my freedom.

But why did he need this from me?

I wasn’t stupid and had an inkling of what motivated him—something dark and twisted to do with the death of his family. Something lacking in his upbringing.

I knew that once I’d surrendered and told him I was his, he would discard me as easily as if I was an ill gold eater in his service, unable to work, and throw me to the fires. Then he could proudly add another notch to the tally of human suffering that he’d caused in the name of vengeance.

Before long, two reaver guards dragged a chained male through the golden doors of the mountain. He wore the wide felt hat, brown tunic, and trousers of a miner. Although grime covered his skin and his once scrawny body had filled out, I immediately recognized the mean, dark eyes of my Underfloor cellmate who’d tried to assault me.

Davy.

Blinking in the daylight, he scanned the crowd, eyes widening to an almost-comical size when they landed on the king. But when he saw me standing on the carpet of wildflowers, my hair braided with gold strands and tiny nuggets, my shining, corseted gown split to each thigh, his mouth twisted, shaping soundless words, and underneath all the dirt, his skin blanched ivory white.

He forced a grimace-like smile. “My friend,” he croaked out. “I knew you would come to my aid one day, just as I helped you Underfloor.”

“Helped yourself to what didn’t belong to you,” said Arrow, stalking toward Davy, his voice like rolling thunder and faithful guards following in his wake.

“No. Wait—” I shouted as Ari dragged me backward.

“You cannot stop this, even if you’re the cause of it. Accept it. Those who cross Arrowyn live to regret it. But they never regret it for long. Close your eyes if you must, but let it happen.”

“Do you know that girl?” Arrow asked Davy in a mild voice, pointing at me.

Davy swallowed several times, likely aware that any answer he gave would be wrong.

“Leaf, come here,” the king demanded.

Ari nudged me into motion, then we trudged forward together, stopping beside Arrow. I gasped as his fingers wove through mine, his grip crushing.

Davy’s gaze dropped to our entwined hands, then violent shudders wracked his body. “Yes. I recognize her. We spent a night in a Coridon cell together.”

Arrow released my hand and grasped the miner’s face between his palms, dropping his voice to a deadly whisper. “And what did you do to her?”

“I… I gave her information. Tried to help her.”

“And what else?”

“I touched her. I know I shouldn’t have.”

“You tried to use my property for your own disgusting gratification.”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know that she...” A stream of urine darkened the front of his trousers as his words trailed off. “I didn’t know. Please…”

Thunder rumbled, inky clouds traveling at light speed toward the mountain and darkening the sky to slate. Lightning flashed directly above us, forking down and striking Arrow between the shoulder blades, his body buckling with the force.

With a single twist of the king’s wrist, Davy’s body rose three feet off the ground, a scream straining the bulging cords of his throat.

I took a breath to speak, to stop the horror, but Ari touched my arm and shook her head. By rights, this revenge belonged to me. If I could, I would press a blade against the miner’s throat and terrify him so he’d never think of abusing a girl again, but then, eventually, I’d let him go. Today, the Storm King would grant no such mercy. That much was clear.

The assembled crowd stood in silence. No one moved as Arrow growled, storm magic spinning the man’s body like a child’s toy, first sideways, then backwards.

“Never. Touch. What is mine,” the king roared.

Tendrils of smoke curled from Davy’s ears, and the king dropped him onto his feet, lifted him by the throat, and plunged a black dagger into his gut, slicing through his sternum all the way up to his chin. Steaming entrails spilled at my feet, and I gagged, swallowing bile.

The king shuddered as the storm dissipated, turning toward the mine guards. “Get rid of this filth.” They bowed and hurried to do his bidding.

A heavy silence buzzed through the air, then a smattering of applause sounded, growing louder as the courtiers one-by-one decided that congratulating the Storm King for his savagery was the safest option.

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