Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,82
both of you.”
She stopped at the shoreline. The fog clung to the dark water, hiding the end of the jetty and the boats moored nearby. It felt as if we were in the middle of nowhere, despite the multiple houses that lay on the other side of this small inlet.
Mo knelt and pressed her fingers into the gentle waves lapping the shore. They rose around her hand as if in welcome.
“Lady of the Lake,” she said. “Heed my call, I beseech you.”
Her voice was soft and yet filled with a power that echoed across the foggy stillness. The water remained still; no deeper power stirred in response.
“Lady of the Lake,” she repeated. “Your presence and your help are requested. Please, heed my call.”
The fog remained still and the night absent of any power beyond Mo’s. Maybe our goddess was in one of her moods.
“Vivienne,” Mo said. “We really do need your help. Please, heed the call.”
This time, the fog moved, sluggishly at first and then gaining traction and power as it rolled toward the shore and over us. It erased what little of the lake and museum had been visible and seemed to dull all external sounds. Even the gentle lapping of water against the shore was mute.
“What is it you wish of me, Moscelyne?”
The voice was softly feminine and yet full of power and force. An odd sort of thrill ran down my spine. To be in the presence of an ancient goddess once was amazing enough, but I’d now done it twice.
I glanced at Luc. Though his expression was unreadable, his awe echoed around me as sharply as if it were my own.
“I have a question and a favor to ask,” Mo said.
“What is the question?”
“The sword that was locked in the stone on King’s Island—was it the sword you gifted Aldred’s line or was it a substitute?”
“I know nothing of a sword locked in stone,” Vivienne replied. “But Elysian will surface once the true heir has risen.”
“Elysian?” I glanced at Mo. “The king’s sword has a name?”
“All great swords do,” the goddess said before Mo could respond. “To keep them nameless would be to disrespect their power.”
Maybe, but the Greeks had believed Elysium was the final resting place of the heroic and the virtuous, and that was ominous. “Swords aren’t sentient beings unless they’re held by Blackbirds and hold the soul of a dark witch.”
Vivienne’s amusement spun around me. “It may not be sentient, Gwenhwyfar, but it does hold great danger to one who still fights to believe.”
That she called me Gwenhwyfar was … unsettling. Mo might have already declared me the reborn soul of the first Witch King’s wife but hearing the name drop from Vivienne’s lips somehow felt like a death knell. “Gwenhwyfar was never meant to draw the—”
“Gwenhwyfar’s fate has always been tied to the sword,” she cut in. “Destiny and blood has simply converged in the current timeline.”
Mo’s gaze met mine, a warning clear in her gold-ringed eyes. I swallowed the rest of my questions on the matter and asked instead, “Then how do we find the real sword?”
“When the true heir claims the coronation ring, Elysian will rise.”
“Why does the ring make a difference?” Luc asked. Though the question was soft, it echoed through the confines of Vivienne’s white blanket. “Even in times when witches ruled, it was nothing more than a symbol of the crown.”
“Those who know little of true history may consider it so, but it has always been a guide, one only the heir can use.” The fog stirred in agitation. “Who speaks?”
“Luc Durant, Lady Goddess.”
“Ah, the Blackbird.” A hint of amusement touched her voice. “It is good to see your order still serves the crown after all this time.”
“Serving the crown was both our penance and our duty—”
“Indeed, but there are few enough these days who believe in either.” Long fingers of fog moved around him, probing, judging. “You will face a familiar choice in coming days, Blackbird. Choose your path wisely, because this time, the fate of this world may ride on it.”
“There is no choice when it comes to duty,” he replied evenly.
She laughed softly. “Ah, the certainty of youth. Were we ever so foolish, Moscelyne?”
“I dare say there are plenty who would say that I still am,” Mo replied, amusement evident.
“And there are none who would say that of me, if only because most of my peers have fallen into the long sleep.” She sighed. “As to the identity of the sword locked in stone,