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They were a distant branch of elves existing in a place alongside yet apart from our world, and they considered human, fae, and shifter flesh something of a delicacy. Their nightly hunting incursions into our world were brutal and bloody and were the main reason most of humanity feared walking through shadows.
The Looisearch—the people who’d stolen the Crown of Shadows from under my nose, and who’d almost succeeded in grabbing the sword—intended to use the three Claws to forever banish night from our world, thereby ensuring the Annwfyn could never again hunt here.
The trouble with their whole plan was the fact that, while the Annwfyn appeared to make every attempt to avoid sunshine and any form of artificial light, no one had any real data on whether it was simply a matter of preference rather than a real restriction. Given their culinary tastes, it wasn’t like anyone dared ask.
“In all the years I’ve been coming up here, I’ve never seen the shades in such numbers,” Holgan commented. “I take it the sword is responsible?”
“Yes,” Lugh said before I could. “And let’s just hope ghosts are the only things that appear.”
“Does that mean I should be grabbing my axe?”
I glanced at him sharply. “Why on earth would you be carrying an axe?”
His brief smile crinkled the corners of his earth-brown eyes. “I rarely feel the need to murder my clients, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I raised my eyebrow. “The ‘rarely’ qualifier suggests that you indeed have.”
“There’s been one or two I would gladly have practiced my swing on, but before you start getting all stressed, lassie, neither of you fit the criteria.” His smile flashed, revealing surprisingly white teeth. “And I’m talking about an ice axe; I always carry a couple in conditions like this.”
I took a deep, somewhat relieved breath, and regretted it the minute the icy air hit my lungs. It might have been filtered through the scarf, but that barely took the edge off. Once I’d finished coughing, I sipped the water Lugh handed me and then said, “It would definitely be a good idea to keep a weapon handy, because we have no idea what will happen when I step into the confluence.”
Holgan sniffed. “Fighting will cost you extra.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Lugh said, tone dry. His gaze met mine. “You ready?”
“No.” My lips twisted. “But let’s do this all the same.”
I reached out and took the sword. Though there were layers of silk, leather, and silver between my fingers and its blade, my skin nevertheless crawled. I could feel the darkness in it. Feel its power. Feel an odd sort of awareness that suggested perhaps this sword was far more than anyone—even the last woman to have successfully wielded it—knew.
I shivered but tightened my grip rather than let it go, as a good part of me wanted. Lugh roped me on, checked everything was sitting right, and then gave me a nod. He didn’t say to be careful. He didn’t need to. It was right there in his eyes and expression.
I took a dozen cautious steps forward, until I was surrounded by gray and the two men were no longer visible. Only the ghosts watched me, and their confusion—and perhaps a little anger—stained the air. Whether at me or the sword that’d called them into existence, I couldn’t say.
I flexed my free hand, then metaphysically reached for the black stone tucked neatly under my left breast. Lugh had created a fancy “cage” necklace for it to enable me to wear it rather than shoving it under a boob, but the stone worked best when it was touching skin and the last thing I wanted to do up here on the mountain was to undo multiple layers of warmth in order to press the caged stone into my hand.
The Eye itself was a “seeker” stone that had been gifted to my family long ago by the goddess Eithne. Mom had used it to track and return missing relics to the old gods, though I’d not been aware of its presence in her hunts until recently.
Of course, she’d no idea—as far as I was aware, anyway—that the Eye was just one part of a triune designed as a means of fighting those who sought to raise the dark gods. That triune was foresight, protection, and knowledge, in the form of the Eye, the knives that were strapped to my thighs, and the Codex, a book that supposedly contained all the knowledge of the gods themselves.
Just under a week ago, I’d performed a blood-based ceremony that had made me one with the triune. It had allowed me to call the knives into my hands even though they were miles away and had given me some measure of control over the Eye—at least to the extent that it didn’t immediately sweep me into a vision the minute I touched it. I’d yet to use it inthisparticular manner, but again, I wasn’t keen on stripping off my gloves or undoing any layers. Not with the cold, and especially not when I was holding the sword.
The Eye pulsed—something I felt physicallyandmetaphysically—and its power swam through me, an energy that was rich and aware and as strong as that when I held the Eye in my hand. In my mind’s eye I could see the lightning that cut through her dark heart, and it was the same unearthly color as the stone encased in the sword’s pommel.
In this case, it was a reaction to the proximity of darkness. A warning to be wary, and one that was echoed by the knives themselves, though their pulsing was something I could feel rather than see.
As the Eye’s response grew in tenor and tone, an answering echo came from the gray to my right. It was a low response, not unlike the deep resonance of a bell.
Tension—and more than a little fear—swept through me, but I held my ground despite the growing urge to back the hell away.
The ghosts drew closer, their insubstantial fingers reaching for me. I had no idea what they intended, but for now, the weather bubble kept them at bay. I hoped it continued to do so. Ghosts rarely had the capacity to interact or cause harm to humans, but these had been called here by darkness, so who really knew what was and wasn’t possible.
The bell-like tolling continued, and the Eye’s burning grew stronger. I had no immediate sense that she was, in any way, drawing on my strength, and yet my body trembled. I had the oddest feeling that I was once again standing on the edge of a precipice, about to step into the great unknown.
Darkness cannot enter this place.
The statement rolled out of the gray, the voice neither male nor female but so filled with power it hurt my ears.
This sword was created by the gods. It must be returned for humanity to remain safe.
