Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,99
Winter.”
Dealing with one problem at a time was certainly the way to go right now—especially when the problems just kept getting bigger.
We drove on through the night. The freeway was relatively quiet, which meant Luc was able to put his foot down more than was probably wise. Mo slept while we discussed random, inconsequential things like movies, food preferences, and places we’d one day like to travel. His list, I noted with some amusement, almost perfectly matched mine.
Dawn was just starting to tint the clouds with rose hues by the time we pulled into Manchester. Luc followed the altogether too perky directions of the GPS, then turned the annoying device off as we crossed a red-brick bridge spanning a fairly wide canal.
“That,” he said, pointing to a house on the left-hand corner of the crossroad ahead, “is our target.”
It was a pretty basic red-brick two-up two-down end of terrace house in an area that looked … average. “I’m not exactly sure why, but I didn’t expect Winter to live in the middle of everyday suburbia.”
“No.” There was an edge of sleepiness still evident in Mo’s voice. “I certainly had him pegged as a ‘lights and disco’ sort of guy.”
“Disco?” Luc said with a half laugh. “That stopped being a thing decades ago.”
“Really? That’s a shame. I was rather fond of the Bee Gees.”
I briefly glanced around at her. “That sounds like you knew them.”
“Met them backstage at the Nelson Mandela Birthday Tribute at the Wembley Stadium in eighty-eight. Nice young men they were.”
“They were middle-aged by that time,” Luc said, voice dry. “That’s hardly young.”
“Compared to me, they were practically in their infancy.” She paused. “There’s a ribbon of energy surrounding that house.”
I swung back around and narrowed my gaze. After a moment, I saw it. It wasn’t just one ribbon, but multiple, and they all had a sickly, twisted look to them. “That’s Darkside magic.”
“Yes, and I’m having difficulty reading its intent.”
“I can’t even see the ribbon,” Luc said, frustration evident. “Is it a spell? Or something else?”
“It seems a touch more organic than a spell. I suspect the only reason Gwen and I can see it is because we’re trained to read presence trails.”
“Could the ribbon be a result of Winter’s energy field?” I said. “And if it is, then why didn’t we see or sense it earlier?”
Like when we spotted him at the funeral parlor?
“I don’t know,” she replied. “But there’s a minor ley line running through this area; maybe he’s tapped into it. It would explain its more organic appearance.”
“Only earth witches can tap into ley lines,” I said. “And he certainly hasn’t the look or the feel of an earth witch.”
“Which means nothing given he’s also half dark elf.” She paused for a second. “The ribbons skim the common wall but don’t fan protectively across the entire roofline, and there doesn’t appear to be any immediate protection around the two skylights. They might be our way in.”
“They might also be a trap,” Luc said. “They’re aware you’re blackbirds, remember.”
“Something I can hardly forget, given my grandson is working with them.”
Mo’s reply was decidedly mild, but I nevertheless felt the flash of her annoyance. She hadn’t appreciated the comment, though I suspected it came more from her still smarting from Mryddin’s remonstrations than Luc’s gentle reminder.
“Turn left into the side street and park a little up the road,” she added, “I need to study the energy a bit longer.”
Luc stopped the car in front of the small house behind Winter’s. Cone-shaped pines lined the fence dividing the two, and while it lessened any chance of him spotting us from the two small top-floor windows, it also only left the end portion of the terrace fully visible.
The dark ribbons continued to move in a slow, snakelike manner around the building. As Mo had said, there wasn’t any magic evident across the visible section of roof, and the skylight was conveniently open. Either there were alarms up there we couldn’t see, or it was a trap, as Luc had already suggested.
“Have you come across anything like this energy before?” I asked eventually.
“No,” Mo said, absently, “but that’s not surprising. Uhtric’s lockdown gave the dark elves plenty of time to develop new spells and energy subversions.”
“Did that also happen in Aldred’s time?”
“Yes. But there were three of us active then, which made it quicker and easier to develop counters.”
“Then maybe it’s time you called Gwendydd back.” Especially if Mryddin took his time to make an appearance.