“Do we know how many versions of Winter there are?” Mo said.
I shook my head. “I did ask, but all he said was ‘enough.’”
“Unhelpful bastard.” She sighed and dragged a clean tissue out of her pocket. “I’ll divide the hair into six. That should be enough.”
“Are you going to activate them all now?”
“That would be risky.”
I frowned. “Why? There’s been no indication he’s magic capable or even sensitive to its presence.”
“There’s been no indication that he’s not, either. Always best to fall on the safe side when doing this sort of stuff.” She plucked free a small amount of hair then carefully wrapped the rest in the tissue and tucked it back in her pocket.
“So we’re not going after at least one of the bastards right now? I think we should.”
“That would be your need for revenge speaking,” she said, amused. “However, I happen to be in agreement. Southport can wait.”
“And Luc’s theory that killing one Winter incarnation will warn the rest of them?”
A cold smile touched her lips. “Oh, if we do this right, he literally won’t know what hit him. And neither will the rest of them.”
I raised my eyebrows, but she didn’t elaborate—no surprise there. While she weaved her spell around the hair, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Luc.
His response was immediate. Color me unsurprised.
I could almost hear his dry tone and smiled. How’d the gate check at Carlisle go?
Neither fitted the description Riona gave us. I’ve just filled the SUV, so I’ll head on down to Kendal.
And then back to Southport?
No. Seeing as you two are jaunting off elsewhere, I might as well check the Leeds gates while I’m down that way.
Surely the Leeds witch council can do that?
Have you met the Leeds council?
No, but they can’t be incompetent—they wouldn’t get elected if they were.
They’re not. They’re just sticklers for the rules and, with the mess in London at the moment, it’s doubtful the high council would have had the chance to send out the full alert.
Yes, but Barney would have called them.
And they would not have moved unless they got clearance from the High Council.
But that makes no sense—all we’re asking them to do is send someone out to check the damn gates. Why would they be hesitant to do that?
Because of a rash act years ago in which over a hundred people died. Council regulations now state they cannot act without prior approval unless they come under attack.
I would think that, after London, new orders will go out to all the councils not to wait for High Council approval on matters of national security.
Undoubtedly, though Leeds is probably the only one that will need it. And to repeat what I said earlier, be careful. Your brother and Winter will be watching for reprisals.
And so they fucking should. See you in Southport.
I shoved my phone away and then watched the developing spell. The orb Mo was weaving around the hair was far more complex than a mere tracking spell, and there were multiple layers within the spell that I’d never seen her use before.
Once she’d fully cast it, she glanced at me and said, “Ready to go?”
I hastily lashed my knives back together and then nodded. She immediately tossed the glowing orb into the air and spoke a command. The orb pulsed and shot off toward Ainslyn. Mo leapt after it, catching me a little flat-footed. I shifted, swept up my knives, and raced after her.
The orb rolled past Ainslyn and Chester and then swept inland. I had a bad feeling that—just as I’d predicted—we’d end up in London.
But I was utterly wrong, at least in this particular case. The orb spun through the middle of England, bypassing distant London and its plumes of smoke, and continuing on.
To Winchester.
The ancient seat of both the witch kings and the Blackbirds, and a location that still held many ancient documents and artifacts.
Winter had come here looking for information to clarify whether the statements I’d made to Max were true.
The orb shot across the cathedral’s imposing spires and then descended. The still-impressive ruins of the Witch King’s Winchester castle came into view, but the orb didn’t stop there, instead swooping across the roof of the nearby great hall and residence before flying into the canopy of the nearby evergreen oak. Mo and I landed on a thicker branch close to the grand old tree’s trunk but didn’t immediately shift shape. Two birds in a tree weren’t going to be noticed by many. Two women perched in said tree certainly would.
The orb hovered a few inches above the end of our branch, its pulse slow and steady. My gaze went to the building. While we were too far away to read the small information plaque situated where the path split into two—one going on to the residence, the other the ruins—I presumed either the residence or the hall was being used by the Blackbirds. Maybe even both.
The three-story residence beyond the fork was much newer than the great hall, and highly—almost outrageously—decorated. There were no protection spells evident, but I had no doubt they’d be present.
If Winter was inside searching for information, then the Blackbirds had at least one more traitor in their midst. He surely wouldn’t have gotten inside otherwise—not when he was all too obviously a half-blood.
Time ticked by without Winter making an appearance. If not for the orb’s gentle pulsing, I’d have wondered if he’d somehow eluded us.
After what felt like forever, the residence’s rather grand rear door opened, and an all-too-familiar figure stepped out. Hatred and anger surged, and I shifted from one foot to the other, desperately fighting the urge to swoop down and kill the bastard. The whole idea of this expedition was to remain anonymous, and that would hardly be the case if I gave in to anger. Even if I swooped in from behind, he’d know I was there the moment I hit the ground in human form.
He didn’t take the path toward our tree, but rather the fork that led to the old gates dividing the hall and residence from the castle ruins. There were several scrolls tucked under his arm, suggesting he’d found whatever information he’d come here for.
I wished I knew what that was. It surely couldn’t be about Elysian—not after such a relatively short search, especially when the Blackbirds hadn’t been able to uncover anything about either the sword in the stone or Elysian.
As he disappeared through the gate and started across a grassed inner court, Mo dropped to the ground, shifted shape, and then pressed her hand into the grass. My gaze shot back to Winter. He was now walking along to one of the remaining walls, obviously heading toward the gatehouse. His phone rang sharply, the sound loud in the peaceful stillness of this place. He shifted the scrolls, pulled out his phone, and kept walking.
As he did, Mo murmured a command. Fingers of energy shot from underneath her hand and silently rolled toward the castle’s remains. They crawled up the wall and surrounded a massive stone at the top. Then, just as Winter stepped under that section, sent it crashing to the ground.
He wouldn’t have known what had hit him. The force of the stone’s fall was so great, half of it ended up buried deep into the ground. The orb flickered and then disintegrated, a sure sign that the life it had been designed to find had been extinguished.