“Look,” Luc said, voice low and urgent. Filled with desperate, frustrated anger. “There’s an abandoned barn a mile and a half up from our rendezvous point—stop there and use the earth to check what might be going down at the old farmhouse. I’ll get Barney and—”
“No,” I cut in. “Under no circumstances are you to send anyone down. I do not want to be responsible for anyone else’s death, Luc. Besides, this showdown was always destined to be just him and me.”
“Weren’t you the one who proclaimed it would never be just you and him? That Darkside would always be with him?”
“Yes, but I’m not stupid—”
“I never thought or suggested you were,” he cut in, “but Mo’s blood runs strong in you, and she’s as headstrong and determined as they come. The only difference is, you don’t have her years of sneakiness, or even the years of conniving and duplicity that Max has under his belt. That might just make the difference between winning and losing this fight.”
“Even if I lose, he can’t win. He can’t raise Elysian.”
“That’s presuming what is written on the King’s Stone is correct,” Luc said. “We can’t be sure it is, especially given the only man who truly knows has decided to remain in his den.”
“Mo believes it, so I’m not about to gainsay her.”
“I was just making a point—”
“I know, and I appreciate it, but you’re going to have enough on your plate getting to London and protecting the crown to be worrying about me.” I hesitated. “Be careful heading out of Ainslyn. It’s likely Max has people watching what’s going on there.”
“They can’t watch or follow someone they can’t see.”
“If he can capture a wily old mage, he can damn well unveil a Blackbird.”
“I’ll be careful,” he said. “Just promise to do the same, Gwen. Remember, Mo’s looking forward to grandbairns.”
Grandbairns she wouldn’t get from him and me. Not if he held to his current course. Vivienne had made past incarnations pay a heavy price for such a decision. I had no doubt she would do the same this time.
I hesitated, and then quickly said, “I love you, Luc Durant.”
Because I could. Because it might be the only time I could. Because I was walking into a trap that may well take my life. Then I quickly hung up, giving him no chance to reply.
He didn’t call back. Maybe he simply hadn’t heard. Or maybe I’d misjudged the true depth of his feelings.
I tried Mo again, but she still didn’t pick up. I did my best to quell the rising tide of anxiety and pressed the intercom. When a metallic-sounding voice answered, I asked if I could speak to Ricker as a matter of urgency. There was a small pause and then he said, “What do you need?”
“A means of getting out of the palace without being seen.”
“You don’t want to fly out?”
“I wish I could, but one of my wings was stripped of flight feathers when I was coming in, and it’ll take time for them to grow back.”
“Well, that’s damned inconvenient.” He paused. “We’re evacuating nonessential staff over the next couple of hours, so we can include you in that—”
“I’ll need my own car.”
“Which is doable.” He hesitated. “What of your sword? And shoes? You weren’t wearing any from memory.”
“I’ll need to have bare feet for the foreseeable future, but I’ll grab Elysian on the way out.”
“We’re not departing through the front gates.” There was a smile in his voice. “They’re ceremonial only.”
“Then I’ll need to grab her before I leave.”
“I’ll make arrangements and be down to collect you shortly.”
“Thanks.”
I released the intercom button and then hit redial on the unknown number Max had called from. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer, but a polite if somewhat metallic voice asked me to leave a message.
I obeyed. Impolitely.
“Brother, I know you’re not stupid enough to kill Mo before you have me or Elysian, so let’s cut the fucking bullshit and arrange an exchange. King Island, at dusk, tonight.” My finger hovered briefly over the end call button before I added, “If you don’t meet me, I’ll shut every single fucking gate into Darkside. You now know that’s not an idle threat, brother, so meet me. Or else.”
Still no reply. I hit the end button and then rubbed my eyes wearily. If he’d planned to snare me at the farmhouse, then my demand for a meeting on King Island would be ignored. The question I couldn’t answer was whether he’d work on the presumption that I’d realize the rendezvous point would be a trap, and plan accordingly. If he did, this could all go horribly wrong.
Which it probably would anyway.
Someone knocked sharply on the door, and I jumped.
“Yes?” I said, my voice holding just the hint of a squeak.
“It’s Ricker, Gwen.”
“Come in.”
The door opened, and his gaze scanned me. It came up amused. “Not to be rude or anything, but you look like shit.”
“A common state of affairs when it comes to me and lack of sleep,” I said. “Is everything arranged?”
“Yes. This way.” He turned and strode off down the hall.
I hastily grabbed my knives from under the pillow, tucking them into my belt as I ran after him. We moved through a multitude of silent corridors until we reached the service lift, then went up to the ground floor. After walking at speed back through the lavishly ornate rooms, we ended up in the archway that led to the forecourt and front gates.
Elysian remained where I’d left her, upright and half buried in the asphalt. Her plain hilt gleamed in the morning sunshine, and blue-white fire flickered and danced down her fuller. The Blackbird who stood guard over her half bowed as I approached and then stepped back. “No one has been near the blade, my queen.”
A smile twisted my lips. “The queen resides in the palace, and that will never change. I’m merely Elysian’s wielder.”
“Technically, that does make you our queen.”
“But not the queen you will protect.”
His gaze shot to mine. “We cannot break our oath—”
I held up a hand, cutting off the rest. “I know. It’s fine.”
It wasn’t, but there was little point in saying anything else. The Blackbirds had their honor and their code, and it was too late to change anything now.
Ricker stopped beside me and regarded the sword for several seconds. “I have to admit, I expected something far more ornate.”
“That’s because most of the paintings depicting her in the hands of previous kings were of the false sword, not the real.” I stepped forward, drew Elysian from the asphalt, and then swung the still-cloaked scabbard around and sheathed her. As the gray stole her from sight, I added, “The time of the witch kings is long gone—”
“Because we now have a queen.” Ricker’s smile flashed, full of cheek. “Or rather, Luc has.”
“He may have chosen a queen, Ricker, but it wasn’t me.” Bitterness rolled through my reply, and I didn’t really care. I swung around and motioned to the archway. “My car?”