Kinked (Elder Races #6)(45)

Set into the cliff beside one pillar, there appeared to be a long ledge. From the ground it was difficult to tell for sure, but the line looked too even to be a natural break in the granite. She tapped Quentin on the shoulder and when he straightened to his full height, she pointed to the ledge. “There. And I think that line that cuts to the left might be a narrow path. See how it goes down gradually?”

“Okay,” he said. He glanced at her. “I don’t suppose you can lift my weight into the air.”

She tapped her foot as she tried to decide how to answer him. Just how sort-of friendly and kind-of cooperative was she feeling toward him today? She was not one of those females who got all gushy just because she had a little fun and a guy gave her a climax. Especially if that guy was someone she had been determined to murder not that long ago.

Finally she admitted the truth. “If we were just going from here to there, I might be able to manage it. Want to give it a try, or do you want to follow the cliff along the ground to see if you can find where that path meets the ground?”

If he annoyed her on the way up, she could always drop him. The thought made her feel better about herself.

“You don’t need to strain yourself for something this unimportant. I’ll see you at the top.” He loped away, his head angled to study the cliff as he went.

She shapeshifted and flew up to the ledge. Once she had landed, she shifted back and looked around with satisfaction. The ledge was much larger than she would have guessed from below. It was wide and spacious, and cut into the cliff itself where there was a finished facade with a door and shuttered windows. The line she had noticed was indeed a narrow path that led up the side of the cliff.

She shrugged out of her pack, let it fall to the floor and tossed her jacket and sweater on top of it. She was tempted to go into the dwelling without waiting for Quentin to catch up, but as she turned her gaze to the view that was visible over the treetops, she lost the impulse and stared.

The landscape rolled out in a downward slope from the passageway area, and a large lake or a sea sparkled a silvery blue in the distance. The edge of land curved around to a promontory where a long, white-pillared building dominated the scene.

The building’s proportions were perfect. It was a monument of graceful simplicity. She shaded her eyes with one hand. Her avian eyesight was especially suited for long distances, and she clearly saw the outline of tall figures in between the pillars.

Other buildings of marble and limestone dotted the coastline, tall beautiful structures of classic design, not quite Greek or Roman—these had been built much earlier—but somehow they were evocative of both.

Along the visible part of the shore, slender piers held graceful Elven ships of ancient design. The sight of ships like these had all but disappeared from Earth itself, where the Elves, along with everybody else, had adopted ships with modern technology and design. On the horizon of the silvery blue water was a dark blue silhouette of land. She squinted, trying to discern details, but she couldn’t tell if the land was an island or another promontory. It was possible they were in the bowl of a very large bay.

Quentin came up the narrow path with sure-footed, confident grace, and he joined her to look out at the view. If he hadn’t come to stand right beside her, she would have missed his quick, quiet intake of breath.

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s stunning. When the Elves break away from hiding everything in the landscape, they really break away in style.”

After a long moment, he turned to glance at the face of the cliff. He gestured to the door. “You didn’t peek inside?”

“I got distracted by that.” She waved in the direction of the temple.

“Yeah, that’s a hell of a distraction.” He gave the view another long look. “I could look at it all day.”

She turned away and walked over to the door. It had an ornate metal handle. She held her hand over the handle, checking for magic. There was none. She tried it, and the door opened easily.

A waft of cooler air from the interior brushed her face. It smelled stale and vaguely exotic, like some kind of Elven spice. Curiosity was goading her forward, but she forced herself to be pragmatic. “Nobody’s been in here for a long time.”

Quentin approached and stood at her shoulder to breathe deeply. After a moment he said, “There’s a whisper of old Power, but it’s very faint, like dissipating magic, and it doesn’t feel active in any way. Exploring here can wait. We should move on toward the coast.”

She had known he’d had some kind of magical training in his past, and wasn’t surprised that what he said confirmed it. Mixed-race creatures who were “triple threats” were relatively rare and tended to have high concentrations of Power.

She said slowly, “I want very badly to take to the air and fly over the land just out of sheer curiosity, but I don’t think I should quite yet.”

He gave her a quick glance. “What’s your thinking?”

“If the Elves abandoned their post and came in here, they had a compelling reason to do so. That compelling reason might not be very … friendly. We don’t necessarily want to broadcast our presence right away.”

“Can you cloak yourself?”

“Yes, from most creatures.” She held his gaze with hers. “Could you sense me?”

“Probably,” he admitted. “But I’m pretty sensitive to magic.”