Lord of Shadows (The Dark Artifices #2)(236)

Emma's heart began to thump. She'd seen this woman before, though it had been a dark night in Cornwall. She knew her.

"I am Annabel Blackthorn." The woman spoke in a clear, even tone, slightly accented. "The Black Volume is mine."

Eochaid swore. He had a fine-boned, cruel face, like an eagle. "You lied to us," he snarled at Emma and the rest. "You told us you had no idea where the book was."

"Nor did they," said Annabel, still with the same composure. "Malcolm Fade had it, and I took it from his dead body. But it is mine and always has been mine. It belonged in the library of the house I grew up in. The book has always been Blackthorn property."

"Nevertheless," said Ethna, though she was looking at Annabel with a dubious respect. One due the undead, Emma suspected. "You will give it to us, or face the wrath of the Unseelie King." 

"The Unseelie King," murmured Annabel. Her face was placid in a way that chilled Emma-surely no one could be placid in this situation, no one who wasn't insane? "Give him my regards. Tell him I know his name."

Delan blanched. "His what?" The true name of a faerie gave anyone who knew it power over them. Emma couldn't imagine what it would mean for the King to have his name revealed.

"His name," Annabel said. "Malcolm was very close to him for many years. He learned your monarch's name. I know it too. If you do not clear off now, and return to the King with my message, I will tell it to everyone on the Council. I will tell every Downworlder. The King is not loved. He will find the results most unpleasant."

"She lies," said Airmed, his hawk's eyes slitted.

"Risk it with your King, then," she said. "Let him find out you are the ones responsible for the revelation of his name."

"It would be easy enough to silence you," said Etarlam.

Annabel did not move as he strode toward her, raising his free hand as if he meant to strike her across the face. He swung, and she caught his wrist, as lightly as a debutante taking her waltz partner's arm during a dance.

And she flung him. He sailed across the courtyard and slammed into a wall with the clang of armor. Emma gasped.

"Etar!" Ethna cried. She started toward her brother, abandoning Jules-and froze. Her curved sword was rising out of her hand. She reached for it, but it was floating above her head. More cries came from the other Riders-their swords were being jerked out of their grasps, gliding into the air above their heads. Ethna glared at Annabel. "You fool!"

"That wasn't her," came a drawling voice from the doorway. It was Magnus, leaning heavily on Dru's shoulder. She seemed to be half-supporting him. Blue fire sparked from the fingers of his free hand. "Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, at your service."

The Riders exchanged glances. Emma knew they could make new weapons easily, but what good would it do them if Magnus just snatched them out of their hands? Their eyes narrowed; their lips curled.

"This is not finished," said Karn, and he looked across the courtyard directly at Emma as he said it. This is not finished between us.

Then he vanished, and the remaining Riders followed. One moment they were there, the next gone, winking out of existence like vanishing stars. Their swords crashed to the ground with the loud clang of metal against stone.

"Hey," muttered Kit. "Free swords."

Magnus gave a low grunt and sagged backward; Dru caught at him, worry in her wide eyes. "Get inside, now. All of you."

They scrambled to obey, the intact pausing to help those who had been injured, though none of the injuries were serious. Emma found Julian without even needing to look for him-her parabatai senses were still humming, her body's interior knowledge that he had been cut, would need healing. She slid her arm around him as gently as she could, and he winced. His eyes met hers, and she knew he was feeling her own wound, the cut at the top of her shoulder.

She wanted to throw her arms around him, wanted to wipe the blood from his face, kiss his closed eyes. But she knew how that would look. She held herself back with a control that hurt more than her injury did.

Julian squeezed her hands and drew away reluctantly. "I have to go to Annabel," he said in a low voice.

Emma started. She'd nearly forgotten Annabel, but she was still there, in the center of the courtyard, the Black Volume hugged to her chest. The others stood around her uncertainly-after all the time spent looking for Annabel, it was clear no one had ever imagined she'd come to them.