Blackbird Crowned (The Witch King's Crown #3) - Keri Arthur Page 0,28
newbie like me to be grounded. In feeling the dirt between my toes and the pulse of the earth under my heels, I’d form a connection that would not only give me easier access to that power, but also create a full circuit that would hopefully stop the energy from frying my mind. The caress of the air against bare skin would offer the same sort of protection, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d take off the sweater before it was absolutely necessary. The storm might have blown itself out, but the night’s chill had well and truly settled in.
Once I’d tossed my shoes into the car and locked it, I shoved the keys into the leggings’ phone pocket and walked across to the well-worn path that meandered down to the old suspension bridge. It was the only way those without wings or a boat could get onto the island, though using the latter had always been a risky proposition. Not only were the seas surrounding the island treacherous at the best of times, there were only a couple of truly suitable locations on which to land a boat. The shore, like the island itself, was covered in rock, though a wide variety of trees and shrubs now thrived there, providing shelter for the array of wildlife that called it home.
The path swept around a corner, and the suspension bridge came into sight. It was simply constructed, with four parallel load-bearing cables stretching across the narrow causeway between the island and the mainland. Two of those cables supported the wooden walkway while the other two provided walkers with something to grip. Crisscrossed metal mesh filled the gap between the two, preventing anyone who slipped on the old boards from falling into the water.
There was no official record of how old the bridge was, or even who was responsible for its construction, though most believed it was Uhtric’s doing, given his shield was the centerpiece of the archway that marked the far end of the bridge. There was likely to have been some form of bridge here well before then, however. The island was home to the King’s Stone, which had held Elysian—or at least her copy—since Aldred’s time. While we De Montforts could fly across to perform the yearly blessing that had always protected the sword from both would-be thieves and destruction attempts, the Aquitaines could not.
Though I guessed that as kings, they could simply command a Valeriun witch to calm the seas.
I scanned the rocks on the other side of the island, but couldn’t spot the man who hid behind them. There was no indication that a couple waited in the growing shadows under the bridge on this side, either, but I didn’t need to see either when the earth felt their weight so clearly.
Did this sort of understanding come so easily for all mage apprentices? Or was it just a combination of luck, good genes, and the fact that I’d at least learned a little about elemental energies through Nex and Vita? I suspected the latter to be true, though Mo hadn’t exactly confirmed it when I asked her.
Though she hadn’t discounted it, either.
I took a step onto the bridge. The churning in my gut immediately worsened, though I did my best to ignore it. It was far harder to ignore the fierce pounding of my heart, especially when it felt like it was about to tear out of my chest.
Other than the crash of waves on the rocky shoreline and the creak of the bridge as it swayed slightly in the breeze, there was little other sound or movement—a sign of trouble if ever there was one. It was dusk, and the multitude of birds that called the island home should have been flying here en masse to claim their nighttime roosts. That they weren’t had to mean there was something happening on the other side of the island.
Something like winged demons, perhaps?
I hoped not, but Darkside was well aware I could take winged form, so their presence would make sense. Which meant that even if our plan had included me changing shape to escape, that option was now out of reach. My alternate form simply wasn’t equipped to fight demons on the wing—neither my beak nor my claws were capable of tearing through their leathery hides. Just one of those bastards could take me down easily enough; any more than that, and it would be a massacre.