Blackbird Crowned (The Witch King's Crown #3) - Keri Arthur Page 0,47

because funding was limited and didn’t always stretch to employing Chens.

But dead earth couldn’t be read or manipulated, and I would have thought that alone would have been a major giveaway that something odd was going on under the chapel. Unless, of course, no one had ever bothered doing an exploratory dig this close to the tower.

The stairs continued to wind down, and the world above faded away until nothing was left except thick silence and expectation.

Some of the latter was mine.

Most of it wasn’t.

Whatever we were about to uncover, it had been waiting for a very long time for our arrival.

For my arrival.

We eventually reached the bottom of the stairs, and I paused, shining the light down the narrow corridor. It spotlighted a highly decorated metal door riddled with protection spells. Nothing was getting through that thing without invitation—not fire, not flood, not a whole battalion of demons.

“Well, that’s certainly unexpected,” Mo said.

I glanced up at her. “What is?”

“The crest in the middle of that door—it’s Ludvik’s.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Who the hell is Ludvik?”

“A king who reigned before Aldred’s time. He was one of the few before Elysian came onto the scene who’d had any success beating the demon scourge.”

“Is the magic protecting the door his?”

“No, although there was mage blood in his line, and he was rather hard to kill.” She cocked her head sideways, eyes narrowed. “The spells are mostly Mryddin’s, entwined within a few older ones that are Lancastrian in feel. Ludvik did have a number of them in his council, and from what I’ve been told, they were renowned not only as adepts but also fierce warriors.”

“You didn’t know Ludvik personally?” I asked.

“No, he was before my time, but I remember Mryddin mentioning him a few times.” She waved a hand toward the door. “Perhaps this is why.”

“You know, the current situation would have been a whole lot easier if Mryddin had just passed on shit like this,” I grumbled.

“His tendency for secrecy is extremely annoying,” she agreed. “But perhaps the very reason this place still exists is because he didn’t pass the knowledge on.”

I grunted and carefully approached the door. The spells protecting it became agitated as we drew closer, but nothing struck out at us. The door itself had no handle, but then, neither had the upper stairwell door. Unlike that one though, this door was highly carved and featured multiple images of battle. There were depictions of a king astride a horse, his sword raised as he plowed through demon hordes, multiple villages being overrun, and what looked to be Darkside gateways out of which all manner of evil poured. Ludvik’s crest was set in the middle of the door, a crowned and rampant lion with a double-forked tail.

“I’ve not seen that crest in any of the heraldic references,” Luc said.

He stood close enough that his breath caressed the back of my neck and an odd sense of security washed through me even as I crossed mental fingers that he would always have my back.

“It’s possible Ludvik’s line died out long before Aldred came on the scene,” Mo said. “It’s also possible that Ludvik is in fact Aldred’s ancestor.”

“Surely something like that would have shown up in the genealogy records,” Luc said.

“They might not go back that far. Gwen, press your hand against the crest—that’s where the bulk of the spells lie.”

I did so. Once again magic swarmed around my fingers, its touch warm and without threat. After a few seconds, it faded away and the door quietly unlocked. I hesitantly pushed it all the way open and swept the flashlight’s bright beam around. The room was square in shape and the walls were covered with brightly colored images. A round oak table, on which sat a number of rolled-up scrolls, dominated the center of the room; evenly spaced around it were twelve chairs.

I glanced around at Luc. “Obviously the Blackbirds were not the first to use a round table.”

“No.” He walked across, placed the shield on the table, and then carefully picked up the top scroll. “These hides are in mint condition.”

“The whole place is.” Mo moved across to the nearest wall. “Look at these images—they’re so damn vibrant they could have been done yesterday.”

I stopped beside her and slowly swept the light left to right, revealing a crudely drawn map filled with locations and names I didn’t recognize. There were creatures on it too—demons mainly, but also figures I presumed were dark elves, given the elongated point to their