Page 2 of The Shadow Path (Shadowlands #2)

CHAPTER ONE

“ S o once we answer that question” —Carys looked out over the small lecture hall— “we are forced to ask ourselves another one. What do these stories, these intensely human stories that are often violent, often grim, but can also be redemptive, mean to us as modern humans?”

She faced a mosaic of faces when she looked at her students. Many were watching her, others were typing furiously on their laptops, far too many were looking at their phones, and at least two sophomore boys were slumped over with their eyes closed.

“When we examine mythological archetypes from around the world like…” She waited for hands.

A freshman girl in the front row raised hers, and Carys nodded.

“Catastrophic floods?”

“Yes. Another one.” She pointed to a boy in the back who had his hand up.

“Trickster gods,” he said.

“Excellent.” She was relieved that even though the semester was wrapping up and they were taking their final the following morning, her students were still engaged. “Another one?”

“Uh, reaper myths?”

Carys pointed at the student. “Psychopomps and afterlife guides. Great one.”

A boy in the front row cleared his throat. “Is this stuff gonna be on the final?”

Carys nodded. “If we’re talking about it today, it’s a good guess that you’re going to see it tomorrow.”

One of the sleeping sophomores roused himself and rubbed his eyes. “Uh, twins. Divine twins. Feral twins.”

Carys forced a smile to her face. “Can’t forget that one.” She glanced at the clock and heard the side door to the hall creak open. The next crop of students was probably arriving for their nine-thirty classes. “Okay, so that’s the question we’re asking, right? What do these stories that cross cultures and time mean to us today in the modern world? Why bother studying any of this stuff?”

“Because it fulfills an English requirement?”

Carys smiled as scattered laughter ran across the room. “Thank you for the most obvious answer, Paul. Any other reason?”

A familiar voice with a deep Scottish brogue spoke from the side of the room. “Because in learning what our ancestors believed, we might learn more about who we are and who we want to be.”

Carys turned and met Duncan Murray’s brilliant green eyes. He was leaning against the wall of her classroom, clad in worn jeans, a green-and-blue-plaid flannel, and a dark green Barbour jacket.

Her heart leaped in her chest. “Great answer.” She forced herself to turn back to her students. “Don’t forget you can use your printed-out notes on the final, so make sure you bring them to the testing center tomorrow.”

As soon as she started to wrap up, all her students started packing their books.

“Also, you were a delight and I want to thank you for braving the eight a.m. time slot.” Carys rushed through her closing remarks. “Good luck on your finals, rest up, eat something green for all the gods’ and goddesses’ sakes” —more laughter as all of them started heading out of the hall— “and have a great summer! English majors, I hope I see you again in the fall.”

“Thanks, Professor Morgan!”

“Have a great summer too.”

A soft-spoken girl passed by the lectern. “I’m going to try to register for your Classical Mythology in World Literature class in the fall. Does it fill up fast?”

Carys started getting her own notes together to clear out for Dr. Ramirez, who was probably already in the building. “It rarely fills up because it’s a three-hundred-level class.” Her eyes kept darting to Duncan, whom more than one student was eyeing with interest as they passed. “So I doubt you’ll have an issue, but if you do, just email me, okay?”

“Awesome.” Her smile was relieved. “Thanks.”

“Good luck on the final.” Carys had little doubt the girl would ace it. She was one of her top students.

“I heard this was your first class back after your sabbatical,” the girl said. “I just wanted to say it was one of my favorites.”

Carys’s heart nearly burst. “Thank you. That means a lot. I can’t lie—I was nervous coming back.” She saw Duncan walking over from the corner of her eye. “But I had a great time with you guys. You made this class really fun.”

“Thanks.” The girl’s cheeks were a little red when she looked at Duncan; then she nodded at Carys one more time before she headed toward the door.

Which left Carys alone with Duncan, laird of Murrayshall, who was once again looking like an advertisement for the Scottish Tourism Board.

“Hey.” She leaned on the lectern and tried to act cooler than she felt. “This is a surprise. I didn’t know you were coming to Baywood.”

Duncan had visited once, just after the Christmas holidays and right before she started work again, but when they’d talked the week before, he’d made no mention of flying to California. “I mean… a nice surprise, but what’s up?”

She had a sneaking suspicion this wasn’t just a social call.

“What can I say, Professor?” Duncan hung his massive hands in his pockets. “I couldn’t keep away from the glorious Northern California weather.”

“The sun is shining today.” She pointed toward the door. “I saw it.”

“Professor Morgan.” The corner of Duncan’s mouth inched up as his low voice curled around her professional title, his tongue rolling the r in Morgan. “It’s giving me ideas, Carys.”

Now it was her face heating. “Come on.” She saw students start to trickle in for Dr. Ramirez’s class. “You caught me at the end of work, so walk with me and tell me what you’re doing here.”

Duncan followed Carys out of the lecture hall and into the bustling humanities building at Baywood State University. The college town on the Northern California coast wasn’t quite as foggy that late-May morning as it usually was, and the last of the ocean mist was burning off as Carys and Duncan walked down the stairs and across the north quad.

“So how are you?” She glanced over her shoulder, wishing she’d worn something slightly more appealing than her oversized tweed blazer, jeans, and a Cranberries band shirt that morning. “Been over to the other side lately?”

By “other side,” she meant the Shadowlands, the alternate realm where magic and myth weren’t just something Carys taught out of books. A realm where magical twins called Shadowkin existed at the will of powerful and scheming fae.

“I have been, yes.” Duncan glanced at her from the side. “Is your dragon around?”

“If you mean is he on campus, no. After four weeks of very bored class attendance, Cadell finally realized that no dark fae strike forces were likely to kidnap me in the middle of Baywood, so he usually hangs out on the other side of the fae gate behind my house while I’m in class.” She frowned. “Why?”

Duncan paused under the shade of a spreading ash tree. “Do you remember the Anglian king, Edgar?”

“I never met him, but I remember the name.” Carys had only traveled to the Scottish Shadowlands, called Alba, but all the realms of Briton had their own king or queen.

“Well, Edgar is dead.”

Carys felt the news like a punch to the stomach. “Poison?” Her own Shadowkin, Seren, had been poisoned by the human mage who’d been her closest friend. “Was he assassinated? Was it fae or some kind of?—”

“Fell off his horse while he was boar hunting,” Duncan said. “Split his head open. Died instantly.”

“Oh, that’s…” A relief? “That’s terrible.”

“Aye, it is, because that means his bampot of a son, Harold, is going to be the king.” Duncan rolled his eyes. “I knew Harold when he was a kid. Complete arse.”

“You knew him when he was a kid. He might have matured since then.”

Duncan shrugged. “Maybe. Either way, there’s a new king in Anglia, and I received a message from your uncle’s man in Cardiff last weekend.” He held out an elaborately decorated envelope with her uncle’s seal on the front.

Her Uncle Dafydd was her own father’s Shadowkin and the sitting king of Cymru.

“I was instructed to hand deliver it to you,” Duncan continued, “which is why I am here.” He smiled a little bit. “Not that it’s a hardship. We never got to Yosemite on my last trip.”

“I can’t help that there was a snowstorm.” Carys couldn’t stop her smile. “What does Dafydd want?” She reached for the envelope with trembling fingers.

“I didn’t read it of course, but since a private plane to London is waiting for you and Cadell, I have a feeling that your uncle wants you and your dragon at the coronation.”

Carys’s heart started to race. “Why me?”

Duncan’s eyebrows went up. “Because you’re nêrys ddraig, Carys. You’re a Cymric dragon lord now, and since Seren is dead, you’re also the closest thing that Dafydd has to an heir.”

“I just think it’s ridiculous to even consider me for the job.” Carys walked through her kitchen door and immediately hung her work bag on the hook by the door. “Come on in.” She pointed to his shoes. “Boots off.”

Duncan huffed, but he bent over and took off his shoes as Carys walked to the stove and started a kettle.

“You’re his daughter’s Brightkin.” Duncan rose to his full height, ducking under the arch that separated the living room from the kitchen. “You’re nêrys ddraig?—”

“Barely!” Carys spun, leaning against the counter while the water heated for tea. “I’ve only been training six months, and most of what I’m doing is just archery. The Chahta dragon riders do not fight like the Cymric ones—which Cadell reminds me of pretty much every training session I have.”

Duncan frowned. “I thought your uncle coordinated your training with his allies. He couldn’t send over a Cymric trainer?”

There were two dragon nations in North America, and the friendliest to Cymru was the Chahta nation, who lived in the Mississippi Valley.

When Carys and Cadell had finally found the fae gate behind her house—well, when her best friend Laura had revealed it to them—it caused more than a bit of stir.

“Just because the Chahta are a friendly dragon nation, that doesn’t mean they want Cymric soldiers on this side of the ocean.” She heard the kettle start to boil and reached for two of her mother’s earthenware mugs that hung underneath the wooden cabinets. “It was complicated enough getting permission from Laura’s people to allow Cadell to live here and use their gate.”

The past six months of her life had been a riot of revelations and a crash course in a brand-new world.

And she’d also had to go back to work teaching three classes at the college. Unlike Duncan, she was not independently wealthy.

Carys tore open two tea bags and plopped them in the mugs, then took a deep breath and poured boiling water into each mug, enjoying the rising steam scented with black tea, bergamot, and orange.

She turned and saw Duncan looking at the photographs pinned to a corkboard on the wall. “How is Laura? And what’s Kiersten up to? Has she seduced the dragon yet?”

“She’s tried her hardest, but I think…” Carys couldn’t stop her smile. “I think if that dragon has any affections under his scaled armor, they may be directed at someone else.”

Duncan’s eyebrows rose. “That sounds like a story that needs whiskey.”

“You’re not wrong.” But it wasn’t time for that kind of gossip when a royal coronation was looming over her head. “Laura is good. Busy with work—she’s working on that new solar project for the tribe she was talking about over the holidays.”

“The one for the elders’ village?”

“Yep.”

Laura—who was Brightkin like Carys—was one of the designated pauwau inwe of her people. The Yurok, unlike the majority of the population of Baywood, knew about the Shadowlands, and in every generation there were Brightkin chosen to cross the gates to serve as representatives between the two worlds.

It was how Laura had immediately recognized Cadell as a dragon.

“I just don’t think I’m equipped to be Dafydd’s heir. Not even close. It’s not that I don’t want to have a relationship with him, but Seren trained her entire life to be queen. And whatever a queen needs to be, it’s not… me.”

She turned and saw Duncan leaning against the arched doorway, watching her as she set the mugs on a carved wooden tray. His admiring gaze made her cheeks warm up. “Tea is ready.”

She set it on the island her father had built between the kitchen and the living room. Duncan pulled out a stool on the other side and sat down gingerly.

“Am I going to break this?”

Carys smiled. “Cadell sits on it, so I can’t imagine it won’t take your weight.”

She squeezed a bit of lemon into her tea and sipped the fragrant, warm concoction, waiting for it to soothe the lump that had landed in her stomach the moment Duncan had mentioned returning to Briton. “I just don’t know if I can do this.”

He cocked his head. “Do what?”

“Be… whatever they want me to be.”

“You don’t know what they want from you.” He shrugged. “Right now all they want is your presence. Your summer break is starting at work, right? The timing couldn’t be better. You have three months free.”

Carys set down her mug. “You have to understand. You haven’t crossed over the gate here. I know my bloodline is in Briton, but the Shadowlands here? They feel… safer. More like home.”

Laura’s Shadowkin—a warm and maternal village healer named Kere—was the one who had led Carys and Cadell across the fae gate near Mad Creek. Crossing over to the Pauwau Aki—the common name for the Shadowlands in North America—felt far more familiar even though the magic there was like nothing she’d studied in books.

“It’s hard to explain,” Carys said.

Duncan nodded silently, sipping his tea. After a few minutes, he straightened up, set his mug down, and looked Carys dead in the eye. “So don’t explain it. Show me.” His eyes were glittering with anticipation.

“You want to cross over to the Shadowlands here?”

He shrugged. “I’ve only ever been to Briton,” he said. “Maybe it’s time to broaden my horizons.”

Laura walked with them through the forest, a glossy blue-black raven perched on her shoulder. “It’ll be faster if I send a raven through. Chuck can usually find Kere faster than I can.”

Laura and Carys were as familiar with these paths as they would be walking the friendly streets of Baywood, while Duncan’s footsteps sounded like a bear lumbering through a hardware store.

“You named your raven Chuck?” he asked.

“Not really.” Laura glanced at the bird. “I think he named himself Chuck.”

The bird let out a throaty caw.

Laura Thompson was a beautiful Yurok woman with an oval face, high cheekbones, and deep brown eyes. She was shorter than Carys, and her curvy figure had been the envy of both Carys and Kiersten when they were kids, though Laura had never had much time for fashion or anything that took time away from school.

Her long black hair fell in a single braid down her back, and while she might be guiding them into a magical shadow world, she wore the typical Northern California uniform of sturdy hiking boots, jeans, and a flannel shirt under a waterproof jacket.

“Kere will meet us at the gate,” Laura said. “And I’ve told Chuck to bring someone to take you across, Duncan.”

As an adult, Laura had become a civil engineer and worked on projects for the state, the forest service, and the Yurok tribe. But she was also a person who could cross between the worlds.

The gate knew Laura and Carys, but because Duncan was new, he would need a guide native to the Shadowlands. And because nothing was born in the Shadowlands except by magic, Carys knew their guide wouldn’t be human.

“I deeply appreciate it.” Duncan’s lairdly accent was in full force. “And thank you for allowing me to cross over.”

Laura glanced back at him. “You’re Lachlan’s kin, aren’t you?”

Carys’s two best friends still considered Lachlan a friend even though her former boyfriend—ex seemed a little too harsh —had returned to the Shadowlands of Scotland the year before and they hadn’t seen him since.

“How is Lachlan?” Laura asked.

“He’s doing well.” Duncan spoke from behind Carys. “Busy. His brother Rory has returned to court, so that’s been… interesting.”

Carys had never met Rory, and even though Lachlan sent her letters nearly every day, he hadn’t mentioned Rory.

Okay, what is that about?

Carys tucked that bit of information away as they crossed over a small stream flush with spring runoff. As they walked farther into the forest, the ground grew softer and the air around them was thick with small insects taking advantage of the last warmth of the day.

It was close to nightfall, and the drooping sun cast long shadows through the massive trees. Dust floated through high beams of light, and the sound of their footsteps was swallowed by the dense underbrush.

As they approached the gate, Carys saw the wisps—the luminous bright souls floating through the forest—dipping down like dragonflies to skate across the lush ferns, flying up into the trees and circling them as they grew closer.

“You’re right,” Duncan murmured. “It feels different.”

Laura glanced over her shoulder. “Kheta Inwe are not like your fae, at least not from what Carys has told me.”

Kheta Inwe—the Old People—were the magical creatures that controlled the gates in North America. They were fae, but Carys had never felt malevolence from them like she had from the fae in Briton.

“Same rules apply here as there though,” Carys said. “They’re a little bit nicer, but they’re still tricksters. They still love playing games with humans.”

“So don’t give them your name,” Laura said. “Don’t make them any promises. Don’t eat their food. And definitely don’t take anything from their forest.”

“Think I’ve learned that lesson well enough for two lives.” Duncan’s head was swinging from one side to the other as they walked.

The waning sunlight was golden through the trees, the forest floor was springy with fresh green shoots, and all the patches of snow had finally melted. Carys breathed in the damp scent of bark and moss, closing her eyes as a wisp dove down and hovered right next to her ear.

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the melancholy sigh.

“Are they the same here?” Duncan asked softly.

Carys nodded.

The Shadowlands was a mirror world. Every person in the Brightlands had a twin in the Shadows, but not every twin was allowed to live and grow.

A lucky number were given to humans on the other side of the gates to raise as their own children. But some were taken by magical creatures, and the rest only existed as these bright lights, wandering between the worlds until their Brightkin died.

It was a sad existence for the wisps, but even though some of their light seemed to flicker, others glowed and raced, as if they were eager to lead Brightkin into the other world.

“Almost there.” Laura shrugged, and Chuck lifted from her shoulder, angling his wings to dive toward a fallen log before he rose into the air and disappeared between the trees.

Laura walked to the side of the massive log and turned. “The village is right on the other side of the gate,” she said. “If Kere is awake, it won’t take long.”

Nightfall in the Brightlands meant dawn in the Shadows.

Carys braced her foot against a rock and hooked her thumbs in her pockets. “Did you see Cadell today?”

“No.” Laura stared into the green veil of the forest, her eyes fixed on the place where Chuck had flown. “I was working.”

“He was asking about you the other day.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “He asks about everything,” she said. “That dragon is the most curious creature I’ve ever met in my life. I can barely give him an answer before he’s asking another question. He’s like a child.”

Carys narrowed her eyes. “Is he though?”

“Cadell?” Duncan asked. “You’re talking about Cadell of Eryri? The dragon Cadell?”

Laura shrugged. “I guess.”

“Duncan has known Cadell for years.” Carys turned to Duncan. “He’s a little more… talkative with Laura than he is with other people.”

Duncan’s eyebrows went up again. “Is this the whiskey conversation?”

“It is.”

A loud caw sounded from the forest.

“That’s Chuck.” Laura pushed away from the log. “And the two of you don’t need to be gossiping about me when your whole” —she waved her hand toward them— “situation is complicated enough.”

“Pfft.” Carys frowned. “I don’t… We’re not?—”

“Together,” Duncan said. “Yet. But you’re right.” He walked past Carys, shooting her a smile before he followed Laura toward the clump of bushes where Chuck was waiting. “And it’s only complicated because Carys needs time.”

Carys shot the back of Laura’s head a dirty look before she followed both of them down the slope, across a creek, and toward a stand of blooming dogwood where a woman was waiting. She turned to face them, and Carys was struck again by how startling it was to see her old friend’s exact face in another person.

“Well.” Duncan halted. “Is that what it’s like when people see Lachlan and me together?”

“Yes.” Carys nodded. “Exactly.”

Kere was Laura’s twin, and the only difference between them was that Kere wore three delicately tattooed lines down her chin.

“Carys.” She held out her arms, walked to Carys, and pressed her forehead to Carys’s. “Good to see you.” Then she turned to Duncan and waved him down to her level before she pressed her forehead to his. “It’s good to meet you. Any friend of Carys’s is welcome here.”

“Thank you.”

“Sister.” Kere walked to her Brightkin and repeated the greeting. Then she turned to face them. “Okay, follow me and stay close.”

Kere walked around the clump of trees, and the three of them followed her.

Only to freeze when they saw a massive black bear rising on two legs as they walked into a small clearing.

“This is Abukcheek.” Kere patted the bear’s side. “He’ll lead us across.”

Carys turned to Duncan, who was frozen and staring at the bear. “Okay, I did tell you it’s a little bit different here.”

“That’s a… very large bear.”

“He’s a shifter.”

“Right. A shifter bear,” Duncan muttered. “So much better.”

Carys took his hand and shook him a little. Duncan blinked and started walking.

They followed Laura, who followed Kere, who followed their black-coated ursine guide. The trees grew denser and the forest darker. The wisps flew around them, swirling and dancing in the heavy darkness.

Carys kept Duncan’s hand in hers, just as he’d done for her when she crossed the gate in Scotland. “I promise it’s not far.”

“It’s so dark.”

Carys looked up at the living sentries that guarded the portal between the human world and the magical. “The trees are older here.”

The redwoods seemed to grow taller and thicker as they walked, crowding out everything around them. No sunlight. No stars.

The world pressed in to the point where Carys didn’t know how the bear guiding them could even make it through the narrow alley of gnarled reddish bark.

The scent of green life was thick in her throat until the air seemed to loosen, the wisps sighed and flew away, and a pearl-grey light peeked through the cathedral of massive trees.

The bear in front of them started to gallop toward the light, but Kere and Laura walked hand in hand, strolling into the gentle light that opened up and bathed a forest meadow where flowers bloomed, a gentle stream trickled, and birds were beginning to sing.

Kere turned to Duncan and Carys and smiled. “Welcome to Pauwau Aki, Duncan Murray.”

Carys could feel her dragon approaching, and the low, rumbling voice in her mind was like gentle, distant thunder.

As they walked into the meadow, she lifted her face to the cloudy sky to see her dragon soaring overhead, wheeling and turning in the grey morning light, his emerald-green wings outstretched and red fire glowing in his belly.

Nêrys, there you are.