bullet had plowed a fairly decent channel through the fleshy part of my upper arm, and it fucking hurt.
I breathed deep, fighting the pain and pushing back the inner fire. Both retreated, and I couldn’t help but wish it were possible to stem the blood that easily. It pulsed down my arm, a warm wet rush that was cooled by the wind by the time it hit my fingers.
My gaze met the halfling’s. I wasn’t entirely sure what she saw there, but hers narrowed, and uncertainty briefly touched her expression.
She raised her gun. “Move, or else.”
I obeyed. I really had no other choice. But this was the most dangerous section of our plan, simply because we really had no idea what Darkside intended.
The bridge’s bounce was more pronounced with three of us on it, which made me walk like I was drunk. I didn’t dare risk gripping the guide cable just in case the inner lightning made a showing.
Thankfully, the bounce eased as we neared the end of the bridge and the archway onto the island. Though the bridge was basic in construction, the arch was the opposite. Time and weather might have taken their toll on the decorative metalwork that adorned its two stone pillars, but it nevertheless remained an ornate and beautiful piece of work. The shield itself was an oddity—aside from being too small to be at all useful in battle, it was completely untouched by the rust that was prevalent everywhere else. In fact, it could have been placed there yesterday.
In the fading evening light, the decorative cross adorning the center of the shield gleamed bloodred, while the white rose that lay across its heart held the luminosity of the moon. The same two symbols adorned the hilt of the fake sword, but not the real one. Did that confirm my earlier suspicion the shield had little to do with Uhtric and was simply another piece of subtle misdirection by Mryddin?
Maybe—but to what purpose? It wasn’t like shields had ever played a major part in the stories of witch kings. At least, not in any of the stories I’d ever been told.
But then, it was becoming increasingly clear that none of us—not even Mo—knew the whole truth when it came to the Witch King’s line.
A bright glimmer caught my attention, and my gaze narrowed. After a moment, I saw it again—a sliver of red light that pulsed around the edge of the cross.
Once. Twice. Thrice. In time with the beat of my steps, I realized.
That was something it had never done before, and there could only be one reason for it doing so now—Elysian. Or rather, the fact that I’d drawn her today.
But if the shield now recognized me—and it definitely seemed to—did that mean it was connected to the first Witch King rather than the last? And if that were true, why had no one ever mentioned it? How had it come to be stuck on this arch rather than in a museum like many other important artifacts?
All good questions I’d only get answers to if I survived the current situation.
I strode through the arch and headed up the long path that led up to the monument. My connection to the earth renewed, and its warming pulse offered enough strength to chase away the pain that came with walking on gritty ground with bare feet. My arm still hurt like blazes, but the blood flow had at least eased. Whether that was due to the energies that moved through and around me or was just a result of my own natural healing ability kicking in, I couldn’t say.
Trees loomed, their branches entwined over the path ahead, their trunks twisted and surreal-looking in the quickly fading light. Mia’s two guards had scrambled back up to the top of the ridge and were now waiting beside the demon whose presence weighed heavily on the ground. The wind remained mute about him; her concentration lay on the remaining winged demons. I wished there was a way to direct and refine the information she was giving me, but that was likely a future lesson.
We came out from under the trees onto the open ground atop the ridge. My gaze darted to the right. Ainslyn lay before us, a twinkling array of lights and life that seemed so far removed from the gloom that currently infused this island it could have been another world entirely.
Damn it, what was taking Mo so long? Surely she would have taken care of the