I swore and thrust a hand through my tangled hair. At least none of the runes were currently blinking, and that meant we still had time. How much was the damn problem. Why on earth would Mryddin and the kings bury this place to protect it and then forget to leave a whole bunch of instructions on how to use it? My gaze went to the scrolls on the table. It was possible the instructions were somewhere amongst that lot, of course, but did we have the time to uncover and then transcribe them?
Maybe. Maybe not.
I sighed—a sound that was pure frustration—then sent a quick text to Mo to let her know what I’d discovered. She wouldn’t be near London as yet, but she’d at least have the information at hand when she met with the High Council.
“Problem?” Luc said, as he got off the phone.
“The inactive gates in Greater London are fizzing under my touch. I think it might mean they’re about to open. If I’m right, it means the demons are about to hit London en masse.”
His gaze went to that portion of the map. “The demon images near the Horn’s Green gate aren’t glowing.”
“That’s not unexpected if they are planning a mass attack. They wouldn’t do anything that would give us a warning. Were you able to get through to anyone?”
He nodded. “Jerold said he’d warn the palace team, then contact the council. If the Greater London gates are on the verge of opening, and they do attack the palace en masse, we’ll need help to counter them.”
“Why not just move the royal family to a more secure location?”
“They probably will if it’s deemed absolutely necessary, but it’s doubtful there’d be many places as secure as the palace.”
Because Layton—the very last witch king—had handed his human descendants the means of curtailing any magical attacks. “Darkside won’t attack it magically—they’ll try to overwhelm it with sheer bloody numbers.”
“Yes, but there are enough witches on staff to keep the barrier spells viable. And both the palace guards and the Blackbirds on duty there should be able to handle any who do break through.”
“What if her staff or guards have been infected by wraiths? Hell, what if the Blackbirds on protection detail there are infected?”
“The Blackbirds within the palace have already been checked—no infection. The council has given them ultraviolet lights to check anyone wishing contact with either the queen or the royal family.”
Which didn’t solve the wider problem of possible infection within the guard ranks. “What about the remaining six Blackbirds?”
“Jerold and Kai are in the clear. The other three will be checked when they report in.”
“And your cousin?”
“Ricker was shifted across to palace detail a day ago and was one of the first cleared.”
“Thank goodness for that.”
“Yeah, though it wouldn’t have surprised me if he had come up as infected.” Luc’s expression was grim. “Not given the hate your brother has for us in general and me in particular.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “That’s because you had the audacity to fall in lust with his sister.”
“Guilty as charged.” The heat that flared in the jade depths of his eyes burned all the way down to my toes. “I take it we’re now making this place our war room?”
I nodded even as I half wished he’d give in to what continued to flare between us. Which was a stupid wish given what might be coming at us in the next few hours.
“One of us will have go out and grab some supplies—”
“One of us being me, no doubt.”
His voice was dry. I grinned and didn’t deny it. “I need Elysian, the crown, my knives, and food. And not necessarily in that order.”
“Chocolate and tea the priority. Got it.”
“You really are going to make me a fabulous husband one day.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Besides, there’s more to being a good husband than the ability to fetch tea and chocolate.”
“Yes, but if you make love like you kiss, I think we’re set.”
He shook his head, his expression an odd mix of amusement and desire. “You really could be a clone of your grandmother.”
“That’s truer than you know.”
He raised an eyebrow, but I once again sidestepped the unspoken question. “You’d better go before I fade away from lack of sustenance.”
Annoyance replaced the amusement, but all he said was, “I take it Elysian and the crown will still be concealed?”
“Yes, so take this.” I pulled the chain holding the coronation ring from my neck. “It’ll point you in the right direction.”
He nodded and headed out. I took a deep breath that did little to curb the ache of weariness, then walked across to the section of the map that held Ainslyn. There were three gates in our vicinity—one to the north past the new business precinct, one situated near Chester, and the one we’d found near the tunnel close to the sewer outlet near the old port. My gaze fell on the latter. Unlike the other two, it was simply a stick—the flag pointing to the left or the right to signify its state was missing. Which was interesting, given Luc had recently used his magic to shore up that gate. I pressed my finger against the rune. It was fizzing. Did that mean Darkside was working to break down his magic and reopen it?
More than likely.
I did another walk around the room, this time looking for runes that were sticks, and found seven. None of them were fizzing, which seemed to indicate my instincts might be right. I sent another text to Mo and then walked back to the table. Until Luc got back, I might as well make myself useful and check some more of the old scrolls. It was a tedious task, especially when I couldn’t understand either Old English or Latin. But I did discover a couple that were colorfully illustrated, and some of those appeared to be a glossary of the non-rune characters used on the wall map. None of the characters listed on either scroll reacted to my touch—I checked—but that didn’t mean they weren’t in some way connected to the gates. If they were drawn on the maps, they obviously had some function.
A couple of hours had slowly slipped past by the time the happy smell of pizza invaded the air. Luc appeared a few minutes later, a large pizza box in one hand and a green shopping bag in the other. Nex and Vita were tucked into his belt, and Elysian—now unconcealed and sitting in the scabbard Mo had nicked from the council’s headquarters—was slung over one shoulder. The crown was hooked over Elysian’s hilt.
“Sorry it took so long.” He dumped the pizza and the shopping bag on the table, then unslung Elysian and hooked her and the crown over the nearby chair. The knives and the coronation ring he handed to me. “Got waylaid by a call from the team disinfecting Noelle.”
I glanced up sharply. “Is she okay?”
“There’s some residual memory and behavioral problems that suggest incomplete removal. They have to go in again.”
How was it possible for removal to be incomplete—surely wraiths were either removed or not. Or did it mean that wraiths were able to reconstitute themselves if fragments of their bodies were left inside?
God, I hoped not, and not just for Noelle’s sake. If they had infested a multitude of people in key positions within both the parliament and principal councils, the inability to successfully remove them would mean those positions could be left empty until replacements were found—and given how ponderous governmental processes often were, that could have disastrous results, especially if Darkside chose the right moment to attack.