I shifted the crown, gripped the hilt with both hands, then placed my feet on the stone and pulled back with all my might.
For an instant, the sword resisted.
Then that otherworldly power surged once more. This time, it spoke of earth and air, fire and water, life and death. It seemed to peel away flesh, muscle, and bone, leaving nothing behind except a being of pure energy.
It was that being the sword responded to.
The sword came free, and with such force it sent me flying backward. Out of the water and into the air.
Taking consciousness with it.
Chapter Four
Consciousness returned with the sharp awareness of both ice and fire. My body ached with cold, and yet flames burned underneath me. Flames that weren’t in fact real, and whose source lay deep underground, in the molten heart of the earth itself.
They were mine to use if I so wished.
Just as the turbulent water only feet away from where I lay and the thunderous might of the skies above was.
It wasn’t just the sword still gripped in my right hand providing the connection. Those elemental forces were now a part of me, an inner pulse as strong as my heart.
Fear surged, and my eyes sprang open. The storm still raged, but I could now see the ebb and flow of the currents that ran across the ominous sky, feel the force of electricity building behind the clouds, waiting to be unleashed.
I released the sword, and the sensations eased, though the pulse of ready power remained deep within. All I had to do was reach down and grasp …
“Easy,” Mo murmured. “Don’t move just yet. Take your time, catch your breath.”
My gaze flicked to her. She sat on the ground next to me, her knees drawn up close to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her grip was so fierce, her knuckles glowed in the gloom.
Because she was afraid. For me.
Which didn’t do one thing to calm my inner turmoil.
“What the fuck just happened?” My voice was hoarse, and my throat felt raw. “Why didn’t you warn me?”
“Because I didn’t know it would be like that for you. It wasn’t for either Cedric or Uhtric.”
“But it was for Aldred?”
She hesitated. “To an extent. He said it was as if he’d been stripped down and examined by every force that ever existed within the universe. But it was only for a few brief minutes and did not occur again.”
Being stripped down was definitely a no-frills description of what had just occurred. “So why would it happen to him and me and not to the other two witch kings?”
“Elysian was raw when Vivienne handed it to Aldred. Its power has been tempered and refined over the years.”
“By the goddess?”
“And by the kings who have since drawn on its power.”
“Which means I shouldn’t have felt what I did—so why did I?” I pushed into a sitting position, but it was an effort that left me wheezing.
“It would suggest the De Montfort line has a direct connection back to Aldred.” She shifted onto her knees and placed a hand over my forehead. Warmth pulsed from her fingertips, chasing away the inner chill but not the fear.
“All the witch kings can be traced back to Aldred.” His line was the only one that could use the damn sword, after all. “And I thought the De Montfort connection ran back to Luis? I didn’t think it went any further than that?”
Luis was the first-born son of Rodella Aquitaine, Uhtric’s older sister. She’d been widowed soon after Luis had been born and subsequently married a second cousin—Phillip Aquitaine. Their union produced three more sons and two daughters, and that bloodline still existed today.
“We were obviously wrong about that.” She rose and held out a hand. “Come on, let’s get you out of the weather and those wet clothes.”
I let her pull me upright. “Into what?”
“Once we’re in the SUV, you can have my sweater. It’ll keep you warm enough until we get back to Launceston and can buy something else.”
I nodded and bent to pick up the sword, my fingers brushing the crown that remained hooked around the hilt. Lightning leapt from the oval-shaped, blue-gray stone at the heart of the crown and raced down the sword’s fuller. I hesitated, fearing to touch either, lest that surge of otherworldly power repeated. Which was stupid. If I was to have any hope of defeating my brother and keeping the main gate locked, I’d have to learn to confront and control both this blade and the powers it could raise.
I unhooked the crown and handed it to Mo, and then, somewhat warily, gripped the sword’s hilt. The fury of the storm intensified, and slender forks of unleashed lightning briefly danced around me. Then the sensation faded, as did the glow in the fuller, and Elysian was nothing more than a sword.
My gaze met Mo’s. The fear remained in hers. “You sensed that surge.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She picked up my wellies and socks then turned and led the way back to the old path. As the ground rose around us again, the wind eased, but not the rain. If anything, it seemed worse.
But maybe that was simply a matter of me being more attuned to it.
“Mo?” I prompted when she didn’t immediately answer.
She sighed—a barely audible whisper of sound. “I’m a mage with power over earth and storms, remember. It’s natural I’d feel the response of those elements when you grip Elysian’s hilt.”
Which made sense, I guess. “That doesn’t explain why you’re afraid.”
She glanced briefly over her shoulder. “I know what those forces can do to the unprepared, Gwen.”
I frowned. “But Aldred faced the same force and survived.”
“He never had full access. Elysian might have been designed as both a gateway into the gray space and a means of gathering the power of all four elements, but the latter had been tempered after that initial burst of acceptance. No mere mortal could withstand the sheer power of the collective.”
“You can.”
“I’m a mage. We cannot be killed by that which we control.”
Which didn’t mean they couldn’t be killed—a well-placed knife or bullet would certainly end their lives as easily as any mortal’s.
“What I truly fear,” she continued softly, “is that it’s my bloodline enhancing the connection between you and the sword.”
I stared at her back for several moments, not so much mulling over what she had said but what she hadn’t, then said, somewhat incredulously, “Does that mean what I think it does?”
“Yes.”
“But … but I’m aging normally. Doesn’t that fact alone mean I couldn’t have inherited the DNA adaption that give mages their mega-long lifespans?”
“No, because it wasn’t until I had my first child that the mutation kicked into gear for me.”
I swore and thrust a hand through my sodden hair. “In a day filled with revelations, this is probably the shittiest.”
She pulled the keys out of her pocket and opened the SUV. “Yes, and I’m so very sorry, Gwen.”
I glanced at her sharply over the hood of the SUV. “For what?”
“For the heartbreak that lies in your future if indeed you have inherited that gene.”