Blackbird Crowned (The Witch King's Crown #3) - Keri Arthur Page 0,57

and opened the pizza box. It was a meat feast—he was a man after my own heart.

I scooped up a slice and then said, “At least she’s in the hands of people used to dealing with this sort of thing.”

“Doesn’t help ease the worry though.”

It was doubtful anything would except seeing her whole and untouched by the darkness currently inhabiting her. And given what Mo had already said, that was highly unlikely. Not that I was about to tell him that.

He carefully removed a cardboard drinks tray and handed me a large cup. “What, no chocolate?” I asked, expression one of feigned horror.

He snorted. “As if I’d dare forget that.”

He pulled out a couple of assorted Cadbury blocks, as well as a big bag of jelly snakes. I raised my eyebrows. “Yours?”

“You don’t like them?”

“I’ve yet to meet a lolly I didn’t like. You just didn’t seem the jelly snake type.”

He raised an eyebrow, expression amused. “And what confectionary type did you think I was?”

I pursed my lips, pretending to seriously consider the matter. “Something traditional and retro, like humbugs or rock candy.”

He shuddered. “Hate them both.”

I laughed, and we got down to the serious business of pizza eating. Once that was consumed and the mess shoved back into the bag, he grabbed Elysian and offered me her hilt.

“I need you to grip but not draw her. The concealing spell will ensure only you can see and draw the blade when she’s in the scabbard.”

“So why is Hecate sometimes visible when she’s sheathed, and invisible when she’s not?”

“The spell surrounding her has multiple layers and exceptions woven into it. In your case, they’re not needed. We simply need to hide her from anyone else’s eyes but yours until she’s needed.”

“I won’t be able to draw her in any hurry if she’s strapped across my back.”

“I doubt that’ll be a problem, given you’re unlikely to be physically using her as a weapon.”

“True.” I had Vita and Nex for that. “Why do the paintings of all the witch kings show them using Elysian in bloody battles?”

“Because they were warrior kings, trained in warfare and sword craft. You’re not.”

“And would probably endanger myself if I tried to use her that way,” I finished for him.

He smiled. “Stick with the knives. They’re easier to wield in battle.”

“I’d rather avoid it altogether, thank you very much.”

“Wouldn’t we all.”

He motioned to the hilt, and I immediately wrapped my hand around it. He took a deep breath, then began to spell. It was long and intricate, but also spoken in what sounded like Latin, meaning the spell was ancient and I had no hope of understanding its intricacies. I could, however, see each layer as it went down, could feel the build of power. Saw the shimmer of gray appear, weaving its way around the scabbard and then up to the hilt and my fingers. It felt … odd. Ethereal. Alien, almost. Which made some sense, given the gray was not of this place.

Luc spelled on. Sweat sheened his face, and his growing weariness washed through the link between us. I wished I could push some of my strength his way, but that was not my forte. And yet even as I thought that, Vita pulsed warmly against my thigh. I remembered the moment in Mryddin’s cave when I’d leaned into Luc and strength had flowed from him to me. If, through Vita, I could siphon strength, why could I not send it?

I shifted in the seat, pressed my knee against his, and then imagined energy flowing from me to him. Vita’s golden glow infused the shadows, and warmth coursed through my body and down into the connection of our knees. His face began to look less drained, even as weariness pulsed harder through me.

I broke the connection after a few minutes. I couldn’t risk doing too much. Not when I was already pretty damn tired. But at least I now knew for sure that the De Montfort gift of healing hadn’t skipped me; I’d simply needed a means of accessing it.

Luc’s spell reached a peak, and the gray completely claimed the sword, drawing it from this world to the other. Though I could still see her, her shape was insubstantial, and she held no real weight.

Luc drew in a breath and then released the end of the scabbard and looked at me. “It’s done. She’s now in the gray.”

“But not totally invisible.”

“Only to you, and that’s a necessity, as I’ve said. If you put her down,