Blackbird Crowned (The Witch King's Crown #3) - Keri Arthur Page 0,67
calamitous if I picked the wrong tunnel and ran into either Winter or those whispering things. I needed the connection to the stone and the earth if I was to have any hope of escape.
There was no immediate response, and it took me a few seconds to realize why. Not only were my feet numb with cold, the stone in this place was so old that any resonance had all but leached from it. But after a few more rather anxious minutes, the faint and very distant pulse of the earth began to beat against my toes.
I pressed them harder against the stone, though I doubted it’d make accessing that distant heartbeat any easier, and studied the three exits. The one the wastewater emptied into was the most logical escape route, but that fact alone probably meant it was the one I shouldn’t follow. The distant pulse of the earth wasn’t relaying the weight of anyone—or anything—down there, but that didn’t mean there weren’t physical or even magical traps waiting.
Which left me two others. I studied them silently for a few more minutes and eventually walked toward the smaller of the two, simply because the pulse of the earth seemed stronger down there. The stone underfoot was slimy, and the air drifting out of the tunnel reminded me somewhat of the stench that had come from a tanning factory we’d passed in Spain when Mia, Ginny, and I had holidayed there a few years ago.
I reached the dark barrier and stopped. It didn’t react to my closeness, but given I had no idea what the spell was designed to do, that didn’t mean anything. Its construction had some similarities to the entry-refusal spell Mia sometimes used when she didn’t want her parents walking into her room uninvited, but there were lots of other lines of magic woven through this spell that bore absolutely no resemblance to anything I’d ever seen.
I lifted a hand and carefully reached out. Once again there was no reaction from the barrier, and that was odd. I mean, why have it here if it wasn’t designed to stop anything?
Unless, of course, it was never intended to stop me leaving, but rather someone from entering. Someone like Mo, perhaps.
I hesitated and then finally touched the thing. The magic’s energy caressed my skin, thick, foul, and oddly oily. But it didn’t in any way stop me. I pushed my hand all the way through without harm or setting off an alarm.
Had it been designed to restrict entry, as I’d guessed? Or was it primed to react only when a certain percentage of flesh went through?
There was only one way to find out.
I sent a silent prayer for luck to any goddesses who might be listening and then stepped through.
The slick, foul magic moved around me and made my skin crawl, but little else happened. Of course, that didn’t mean alarms weren’t screaming somewhere else, but it was still weird given the power within … The thought died and I felt like slapping myself.
It couldn’t affect me because I was immune to magic. Whoever had created this spell was either unaware of that fact or had forgotten.
I stepped into the small tunnel, my nose wrinkling at the stench. The barrier’s purplish light leached just far enough in to reveal wet walls ribboned with slime. I eyed the deeper darkness and thought about shifting shape, but quickly dismissed the idea. While my blackbird’s night vision was similar to that of my human, there was no way known I could safely fly in utter darkness. At least in my human form I could use the slimy walls as a guide, however much the thought of running my fingers through the muck revolted me.
I forced my feet on. The water was thick and sludgy and certainly didn’t feel like storm water. It made me glad I couldn’t see exactly what was in it. I had a feeling it was better not to know.
After what seemed like hours later, a tiny flicker of light appeared in the darkness up ahead. It was too yellow to be daylight and too warm to be moonlight. I slowed fractionally and looked for a trap or an alarm but couldn’t see anything either physical or magical.
The earth gave no indication that anyone waited up ahead, but I couldn’t discount the possibility that the remoteness of the connection meant she simply wasn’t able to sense the weight of anyone or anything.