The Storm King

The Sky Whale dipped and soared, crashing its enormous fluke through the darkling clouds. Becca held on tight.

They swam through a valley of thunderheads, the rippling darkness punctuated by sparks and jumps of electric blue. There were figures in the lightning, grinning faces that watched them.

“Where are we going?” asked Becca.

“To the seat of the Storm King,” rumbled the Whale. “We could journey without his permission, but you wouldn’t like the things he’d send after us.”

They came at last to a massive, curling tower of night-black clouds. At its peak, there sat a man who glowed.


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