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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

C rossing the gate with their smuggled coffee tucked in pockets, all Carys could think about was the woman in the market and her mysterious dream in the cab.

“Names have power, you know. Names can conjure power. Names can trap. Call a name often enough, and its owner might even become a god.”

The rowdy night market was abnormally quiet, though business continued in a muted fashion. The black river flowed in the background, glowing, golden trails rising to the surface every now and then from the serpents and water sprites that called it home. The night was clear and moonless, and no stars shone in the sky.

There was a faint golden aura hanging over the city like a fog of gold light from torches, fires, and the oil-burning streetlamps that lined the embankments and roads.

As the group walked down the cobblestone street, which still held muddy ash from the fires less than a week before, the trolls all stared at them from behind their booths and counters.

“They probably smell the coffee,” Cadell said.

“Something is wrong,” Laura said. “Don’t you feel it?”

The Kingsguard, in bright red uniforms and bronze and leather armor, patrolled in groups of four and six, joking among themselves and chatting with some of the vendors that remained.

“It’s too quiet,” Duncan said. “There are usually fae musicians that play on that corner.” He nodded toward the start of the bridge over the Tamis River. “They’re not playing tonight.”

Fae musicians.

Carys looked around the market, but the fae bookseller was gone. She scanned the tents and booths propped up against the brisk breeze coming off the river. “There are no fae here.”

Duncan looked around, and Cadell’s eyes narrowed.

“No fae at all,” Carys said.

Nêrys! Cadell froze, shouting in her mind. We must go now.

“What’s going on?” She turned and grabbed his arm. “Cadell?”

“Mared is calling me.” His throat burned and he stepped away, leaping toward the bridge and transforming in a shower of gold sparks that had the trolls in the market screaming and running for their lives.

Cadell, what is happening?

The Kingsguard ran toward them, but before the soldiers could reach them, the dragon whirled around, let out a burst of fire, and snatched Carys, Duncan, and Laura in his massive, curled claws, hurtling into the air with a heave of his great wings.

“What the hell is happening?” Duncan was furious. “Carys?”

Mared is shouting for me. She’s summoning the horde.

“Mared is summoning the dragon horde,” Carys shouted into the wind as Cadell soared over the river and across Hyde Forest, toward Dafydd’s estate.

An old fae gate burst open near the nesting grounds. They rushed in, and two children were taken before the minders realized what was happening.

“Oh my God.” Carys felt cold rush over her body, and it wasn’t only because of the wind. “A fae gate opened near the horde nesting grounds. Two children were taken.”

“What?” Laura shouted.

As Cadell soared into the air, a dark cloud appeared over the city.

Not a cloud, but a massive flock of crows that swooped and cawed as they dropped something from their claws.

Feathers?

No, not feathers. Papers. Pamphlets.

What did you do when you wanted to get a message out but there was no television or radio? Crow-pamphlet, Carys was guessing.

Slips of paper flew in the wind, blowing over the twisted streets and wooden roofs of London, tossed in the currents of the river, and landing in shining puddles throughout the muddy lanes.

One stuck to Carys’s cheek as Cadell flew through the night. She grabbed it, trying to read in the glow of the dragon’s fire.

The words on the paper flickered and moved. “‘People of Briton.’ It’s in Anglian!”

“It’s glamoured.” Laura had grabbed one too. “Because it’s in Yokut for me. They’ve used some kind of spell so that everyone will see it in their own language.”

“But it’s the same message?”

“‘For too long,’” Laura read, “‘you have ignored the old magic. You build your cities of stone and metal. You school your children, but you teach them nothing.’”

They set down in Dafydd’s courtyard. Cadell dropped them as gently as he could, but her sore ankle still jolted when she landed in the mud. Then, without a word, her dragon flew into the darkness.

Carys heard the soldiers milling around the courtyard—all of them had fae pamphlets in their hands.

“‘You offer no sacrifices to your house spirits,’” one soldier read, his forehead furrowed. “What is this?”

A maid reached down and grabbed a pamphlet from the mud. “‘You cut down trees that are older than the cities that have grown up around them.’” She looked around in confusion. “Who sent this?”

“‘It is time…’” Laura continued reading the pamphlet in her hand. “‘…for you to forget the lure of the Brightlands and the false worship of human leaders. It is time that you pay homage to your true rulers.’”

“True rulers?” The maid tossed the pamphlet in the mud. “I serve King Dafydd. Who wrote this nonsense?”

Laura’s face leached of color as she looked at the bottom of the page. “It’s signed Cian of Temris, High Lord of éire, Consort of Queen Orla, and…” Laura looked up. “High fae king of Briton.”

Duncan said nothing, but his face was grim, and Carys knew exactly what he was thinking.

The fae had just declared war.

“What’s happening?” she shouted at the nearest dragon rider she saw. There was chaos as every nêr and their dragon readied their coracles to fly to Cymru.

“You!” Anwyn was clinging to the side of a war coracle, and her dragon was beating her wings, waiting for the signal to fly. “In the hall now! The king wants to see you.”

“The children?—”

“The remaining nestlings have been moved to a new nesting ground,” Anwyn shouted and slammed the door to her coracle. “Go and speak to the king.”

Cadell was stormy and silent in her mind. She could feel his desire to mount the sky and follow the nêr ddraig who were already winging toward the mountains, but he crouched near the stables, waiting for Carys.

Nêrys, do not ask me to take human form right now.

Are they your children?

All dragon children are my children.

“I understand.”

“What are we doing?” Duncan said. “Carys?”

“Anwyn said Dafydd wants to see me.” Carys was already walking into the hall, and Duncan and Laura followed her. “So I’m going to see the king.”

There was a red-coated messenger standing next to Dafydd in the hall.

“Carys, you’re here.” The king’s face was grim. “Harold has just sent a messenger. The news is everywhere. Crows and ravens filling the skies. They struck all over Anglia. They took wolflings, humans. We have not heard of any missing unicorn young as yet, but there are gates opening all over Briton.”

Carys asked, “Were Cymric children taken as well? Other than the dragons, were human children taken?”

The king’s face was grim. “We are waiting for news.”

Duncan asked, “Have Orla and Cian formed an army?”

“We don’t know yet.” Dafydd’s face was dark, and his eyes were fixed on a map spread on the table. “But we know that children all over Anglia have disappeared. Snatched from their beds in the middle of the night, lured into forests. They’ve disappeared into fae mounds and barrows that we cannot breach.”

The red-coated messenger spoke. “Over two hundred children have been reported missing so far. Dozens of barrows are popping up all over Anglia.”

“Oh my God,” Laura said. “Why children?”

“Children are the most precious thing in the Shadowlands,” the messenger said with a bleak face. “I imagine they know we will do anything they want to get them back.”

“Hostages,” Carys murmured. “They’ve taken over two hundred hostages.”

Duncan crossed his arms over his chest. “What do they want?”

“There have been no demands as yet.” Dafydd looked up with a grim stare. “Just the pamphlets the crows dropped from the sky.”

He pointed to the map. “Carys, the dragon nestlings have already been moved. Make sure you tell Cadell so he doesn’t panic.”

Cadell, the king says the rest of the children have already been moved.

Mared has told me.

I’m still with the king now. Anything you want me to share? Anything you need to know?

Mared is speaking with me now.

Carys was nothing but a green soldier when it came to any kind of combat. She was a decent shot with an arrow, but her main strength as a new nêrys ddraig was simply being the human voice for a big, bad dragon.

But her people had been attacked.

Her people. Cadell’s children.

“What do you want us to do?” Her heart was racing. “I don’t know if I can help, but?—”

“You can help.” Dafydd pointed to Duncan. “And you too.”

Duncan frowned. “Has Lachlan called?”

“Not yet. I imagine he’s trying to communicate with his father right now. Probably trying to find out what is happening in the north.”

“Ravens have been sent from the palace,” the messenger said. “But Harold and Lachlan have not heard back from Robb, and there is a fear that any raven or crow could be loyal to Cian.”

“I’ve sent Dylan and his dragon Tamsin to Alba to coordinate with Robb and Rory.” Dafydd looked at Carys. “One of the dragon young taken was from Demelza’s last clutch. Anwyn and Demelza are flying to Cymru immediately.”

Her clutch? What does that mean?

Cadell’s voice ached. All children are our children, but that means one of the missing is Demelza’s own blood .

Dafydd was speaking with Harold’s messenger. “Once Dylan and Tamsin are close enough, they will be able to communicate with the dragons in the north. My niece Carys and her dragon Cadell will remain here in Anglia. I need to fly to Caernarfon, but my niece will remain in Anglia to communicate with Harold’s people and be my voice here. Please let your master know.”

“You have our gratitude, King Dafydd.”

It wasn’t as good as a mobile phone, but dragon’s mental communication was surprisingly far-reaching.

Dafydd continued, “I’m sure Lachlan will stay here in Anglia with the Alban troops already in the south to coordinate with Harold and back up his armies.”

“Armies?” Laura’s voice was quiet, but everyone turned to listen. “They’re not attacking with armies, Your Majesty. They’re taking children.” Her eyes were wide and tear-filled. “Armies are not going to get those children back.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Dafydd said. “But we can surround the gates. Keep the fae from taking any more. Keep them contained.”

“They’ve brought old gates back to life,” Carys said. “Remember? That’s what Godrik was worried about. Do we even know where all the fae gates are?”

“No, and that’s why I need you.” Dafydd pointed to the map spread out in front of him. “Every fae gate, fort, and barrow we know about is marked on this map. I have charged my personal scribe with making you another copy of this map as we speak.”

Carys nodded. “Okay.”

“You and Cadell will take a surveying trip over the southern part of Anglia. Cadell and Seren were well trained in mapmaking and surveying. He’ll know what to do. We must identify any new gates so we can surround them.”

“I’ll do my best.” She couldn’t draw to save her life, but with Cadell’s help, she was certain she could mark any new fae gates on an existing map.

“And you” —Dafydd pointed at Duncan— “will go with her. I know you have an iron sword, and I expect you to carry it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Duncan said. “But I’ll send a message to Lachlan, let him know I’ll be staying here.”

“How can I help?” Laura spoke again. “I’m probably not supposed to get involved in foreign conflicts, but I feel like I have to help somehow.”

“The fae that you called have disappeared,” Dafydd said. “You probably didn’t even notice in all the commotion, but the mound in the courtyard is gone.”

Carys blinked. “Dru and Naida left us?”

“Fae are disappearing all over Briton,” Dafydd said. “We don’t even know if household spirits have remained.”

Duncan said, “Brownies and other household fae should have protected any children of a household they watch over. How could they have been taken?”

“Maybe they did,” Carys said. “Not every house has a brownie.”

“The disappearance of friendly fae means that human mages are more important than ever.” Dafydd nodded at Laura. “If you are willing to stay and ward this house in some way, I would be grateful.”

“Of course,” Laura said. “And I could never leave Carys.”

“The fae cannot all be on Orla and Cian’s side,” Duncan said. “I know more than one fae, and they would never?—”

“They may not stand with Orla and Cian,” Dafydd said. “But the wild fae may not feel strong enough to stand against them either.” He looked at Laura. “If you can call Naida and Dru, call them. I know who Diarmuid ap Lir truly is. If there’s anyone who might be able to get these children back, it’s him.”

Cadell was nearly crawling out of his skin with his need to go to his children, so Carys released him to fly to the mountains for the rest of the night while Duncan dragged her away to get a few hours of sleep.

“There’s no use trying to survey fae gates when it’s dark, and Cadell needs to comfort the young dragons.” Duncan dragged her up the stairs, her hand firmly wrapped in his. “You need to rest while you can.”

Carys still couldn’t wrap her mind around what was happening. Days ago they were dancing under torchlight and celebrating King Harold’s coronation. Prince Cian and Queen Orla had been there!

And now the most vile crime had happened, children were missing, and the country was in confusion.

“Is this always what happens when a war starts?” Carys asked. “You feel really confused and nothing seems real?”

Duncan put his arm around her shoulders as they walked. “I don’t know. We’ve been lucky, haven’t we?”

Peace is not natural to the Shadowlands. We are magic and myth and every dark impulse that exists inside you. We must claw civility from the mud with power and domination. Because when peace breaks, good people become animals to survive.

“Eamer told me once that peace wasn’t natural here. That when the world breaks, it’s women and children who pay the price.”

“Spoken like a woman who has studied history,” Duncan said. “She must be heartbroken right now, knowing that her own mother is the one who planned this.”

“Did she though?” Did Queen Orla have it in her to provoke a war? What could be the motivation? Did the Queen of éire really want to rule the whole of Briton? “Was it her or was it Cian?”

Carys was thinking aloud. She didn’t really know anything. But Orla’s fae consort was the closest thing to a king that the fae in Briton had, and he wasn’t well-liked.

“Do you think Cian knows that Dru is back?”

“Yes. I think he does.” Duncan opened her bedroom door and walked inside. “Stay here.” He left her by the crackling fire and inspected under the bed and in the dressing room before he returned. “I don’t see any danger.”

“I’m sure we’re safe in Dafydd’s house.”

“For now we take nothing for granted.” He frowned. “I’m going to check Laura’s room too. I’ll be right back.” He reached to his waist, grabbed a thin scabbard, and shoved it toward her. “Stab anything you don’t recognize.”

“She’s right next door.”

“Like I said, stab anything you don’t recognize.” He stomped out of the room and came back less than five minutes later. “She nearly stabbed me .”

Carys smirked. “She grew up with sisters. You can’t really take Laura by surprise.”

Duncan tossed his pack on a chair by the fire, then walked to her wardrobe. “Warm clothes. Socks. It’s cold in this room.”

“Are you fussing?” She sat on the edge of the bed.

“Fussing?” He dropped his arms, which were holding up a warm wool tunic. “Did you just accuse me of fussing?”

She collapsed back on the bed, patting the mattress beside her. “I’m taking off my shoes and sleeping.”

“You’re changing.” He walked over and tugged at the ties holding her trousers up. “You’re changing because you’ve been wearing these clothes for hours and you will sleep better out of them.”

Had she been in London only hours ago? Her shirt still smelled like sunlight.

Carys watched Duncan, eyes half closed already, as he swiftly undressed her. “This is not how I imagined your first night in my bed would be.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “It’s not our first night in bed, and there will be no fucking. We both need to sleep.” He tugged off her trousers and let them fall on the floor.

“Last night wasn’t our first night in bed. It was our first night in bath.”

Duncan snorted as he pulled her up to sitting. “You’re exhausted.”

“Are you staying with me?” She didn’t want to be alone.

“Yes.” He took a deep breath and looked longingly at her nearly naked body before he put the nightgown over her head. “But no fucking.”

“Do you know that fuck is one of the oldest profanities in English? First recorded usage was in the… fourteenth century, I think.”

“Fascinating, Professor Morgan.”

“And it’s likely from an earlier Indo-European root because both Germanic and Romance languages have some version of it that has the same or related meaning.”

He threw back the heavy coverlet, picked her up, and set her in the bed before he drew the covers up. “That must explain why it’s such a useful fucking word.”

“It really is, right?” She was already drifting to sleep when she felt him get in the bed, scoot closer to her, and wrap his arms around her body. “So many…” She yawned. “…different parts of speech.”

“Sleep, Carys.”

She had one moment to feel the comfort of Duncan’s arms around her before she completely lost consciousness.