Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,83

I would suggest you stir the great enchanter.”

“I feared that would be your answer.”

“He can be challenging, even for one such as I,” Vivienne agreed. “But it is well past time he stirred again. What is the favor you wished, Moscelyne?”

She half turned. “Luc, can you give Gwen the coronation ring?”

He raised an eyebrow, but carefully pulled a worn and very plain leather pouch from the inside pocket of his jacket. I held out my hand. He opened the pouch, then carefully tipped it upside down. The gold ring that fell into my palm was absolutely glorious. A huge red ruby dominated its center; on its surface, a cross and a rose—the symbols of the Witch King—had been carved. At least twenty small diamonds surrounded the ruby, and even in the fog-clad darkness, they sparkled brilliantly.

“It’s heavier than I expected,” I whispered. “It must be worth a fortune.”

“Its monetary worth is nothing compared to its historical value to crown and country,” Luc said. “And that’s true now more than ever, given the goddess’s statement of its power.”

I held it out to Mo. “Here you go.”

She didn’t take it, and her expression held an odd mix of surprise and perhaps even doubt. She turned back to the lake. “The favor I would ask is that you accept this ring for safekeeping.”

“That I can do,” she said. “Throw it to me.”

“Gwen?”

I stepped to the shore and, with all my might, threw the ring out across the water. Red light pulsed from the gem at its heart, but unlike the crown we’d given Vivienne for safekeeping not so long ago, that light didn’t cut a path through the fog.

A hand as pale as ice, with nails that gleamed the color of fresh blood, rose from the dark water to catch it. Vivienne held the ring aloft for several seconds, as if studying it, and then pulled it back into the water.

“This ring is not the true coronation ring,” she said, “And I suspect you know this well enough, Moscelyne.”

“Impossible.” The word all but exploded from Luc. “We have guarded that ring since before Layton’s betrayal of the crown. It is the real thing—it can be nothing else, given it was taken from the Uhtric’s hand on his death.”

“It may be the ring he wore on his death, but it is not the one that will call forth the sword. Your order has been deceived, young Blackbird.”

“Well, fuck.” Luc thrust a hand through his hair and then added a hasty, “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I have heard far worse from the mouths of men, trust me on that.” Vivienne’s amusement was evident. “Do you wish the ring returned or shall I keep it?”

Mo hesitated. “I think it best returned. Aside from its value, we can use it as a lure.”

To catch a hydra? I wondered, and ignored the swift rise of heartache.

Bloodred flashed deep in the heart of the white. Mo caught the ring and handed it back to Luc. “Keep it safe.”

“We have been,” he murmured. “For hundreds of years we’ve kept this damn thing safe, and all apparently for naught.”

I wrapped my fingers around his arm; he glanced at me, his expression rueful. Once he’d tucked the ring back into his pocket, he caught my fingers and lightly squeezed them. He didn’t immediately release them, and for that I was glad. There was something very comforting in his touch, and I had a bad feeling I’d better enjoy it while I could.

“I will no doubt see you again before this game plays out, Moscelyne,” Vivienne said. “In the meantime, walk warily. The dark forces gather exponentially, and as this nation’s last guardian, you will be in their sights.”

“I know, but thank you.”

And with that, Vivienne left. The thick white fog disappeared with her, leaving only murky wisps of gray stirring around the nearby trees and boat masts.

“What did she mean when she said you were the last guardian?” I asked.

“Nothing major.” Mo rose and wiped her fingers on her coat. “I’m the last surviving mage here in the UK, that’s all.”

It was more than that, but it was pointless pressing. She’d tell me when she wanted me to know, not before. “Does that mean Mryddin is dead?”

“No, but as she said, he is hard to wake. Perhaps ‘last active mage’ would have been a better choice of words.”

“What are we going to do about the ring?” Luc said. “And if the one we held isn’t the original one, then does that mean the