Page 6

CHAPTER FIVE

C arys walked along the wide, stone-lined path that cut through a large wood on the other side of the Cye Bourne with Duncan on one side and Lachlan on the other.

“This is Hyde Forest,” Duncan said. “Once we pass through it, your uncle’s estate is on the other side.”

“Are we still in the city?” Carys didn’t know London well, but she was pretty sure that in the Brightlands, Hyde Park was right in the middle of town, and they looked like they were heading away from the city, not into it.

“In the Shadowlands,” Lachlan said, “London has spread farther toward the mouth of the river. Most of the traffic goes by boat, so that’s where the majority of people have settled. This area here” —Lachlan gestured to the dense woods around them— “Hyde Forest and Kingswood, is primarily occupied by the lords of Anglia and the wolves.”

Wolves. Carys tried not to shiver, because she’d only seen the legendary shifting wolves from a distance. From what she’d heard though, they were magical creatures that were fierce, warlike, and owed their allegiance to the Anglian throne.

Cadell and Laura were walking behind them with Dru in the lead. A heavy cloak covered most of Dru’s face, hiding the deep blue sigils that marked his cheeks and forehead. As he walked through the drifting fog, small sprites and zipping wisps danced around him, alighting on his shoulders and swirling around his head.

Sometimes he appeared to whisper to the tiny fae creatures, and Carys would swear she heard more than one sparkling laugh before a sprite or a wisp flew away into the trees.

A laugh bubbled from Laura, and Carys looked over her shoulder. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, little halfling,” Laura said in a very bad English accent, “have you had your second breakfast yet?”

She looked at Duncan on one side and Lachlan on the other. “Ha ha.”

Dru glanced over his shoulder with a smile. “You do resemble the good people of your homeland a bit, Carys Morgan.”

“I look like an ellyll?” Carys couldn’t stop her smile. “My hair isn’t curly enough.”

“Nevertheless,” Dru murmured, “you should take honor at the compliment.”

The fae people of Cymru, the ellyllon, were shorter than the fae in the rest of Briton, and myths and legends said they were some of the oldest magical creatures on the island. They had curly hair, darker skin, and mostly walked barefoot.

Carys had only met one, a fae woman named Naida who resided in Alba for mysterious reasons. Unlike the rest of the fae Carys had met, Naida was less conniving and more helpful.

But walking between two much taller Scotsmen and led by a mysterious fae escort, Carys realized they probably did look more than a little bit like a very lopsided fellowship.

“You’re one to talk.” She glanced over her shoulder at Laura. “Is Cadell two feet taller than you? Three?”

Cadell said, “I’m one foot and seven inches taller than Laura in the imperial measuring system.”

Laura raised an eyebrow. “I’m not contesting my halfling status. Not as long as it gets me a second breakfast.”

Cadell immediately took the pack from his back and handed Carys, then Laura, an apple. “Eat. Both of you.”

Carys grabbed the apple and bit into it, only to see Lachlan staring at her with smiling eyes. “What?” She grinned. She couldn’t help herself. When Lachlan looked at her like that, it felt like sunshine on her face. “Do you think I look like a hobbit too?”

“Your hair isn’t curly enough.” He glanced down at her shoes. “Your toes are a little bit hairy though, so maybe?—”

“Hey.” She smacked his arm, but she couldn’t be mad at him.

Lachlan laughed. “You know, I jumped at the chance to come to Harold’s coronation,” he said. “Even though he’s not my favorite person.”

“Oh yeah?” Carys felt her cheeks warm. “Couldn’t wait to dig into those famous Anglian royal banquets, right?”

“The food is far better in Anglia than in Alba,” Cadell said. “They have greater access to spices from the continent.”

Yet another misconception Carys was going to have to get over.

“I can’t argue with the dragon,” Lachlan said. “But it wasn’t the food I was looking forward to.” His green eyes were fixed on her face. “It’s good to see you again.”

Carys glanced at Duncan, highly conscious that the man hadn’t said a thing to her since Lachlan showed up. “What’s Angus doing here?”

Duncan kept his voice low. “He won’t be staying.” He glanced down at her. “But he had something of importance to deliver while I’m here.”

Something of importance had to be Duncan’s dragon-steel sword that he and Angus had forged in Sgain. According to Duncan, there were rumors about the sword now, but they were just rumors.

“Is that wise?” Carys asked. “To bring something like that to a royal coronation?”

A steel sword in the Shadowlands was akin to a weapon of mass destruction according to the fae.

“Just a precaution.” Duncan stared straight ahead.

Lachlan glanced at his Brightkin. “Perhaps you’re being overly cautious.”

“Perhaps I like to be prepared,” Duncan growled. “Some of us don’t have their father’s army to watch their back.”

Before they could start snapping at each other, Carys jumped in. “We should go for a walk later,” she said. “I’ve had time to catch up with Duncan, but it would be good to catch up with you too.”

“Wonderful idea.” Lachlan’s smile was a triumph while Duncan’s face only looked more stormy.

Great.

She wasn’t trying to cause a problem, but Carys wondered why Lachlan hadn’t mentioned his brother returning to court. It sounded like Rory’s arrival had caused some upheaval, and she wondered why he hadn’t written to her about it.

Lachlan’s voice lightened. “How did the end of the semester go? First classes after your sabbatical. Were you stressed?”

“Not at all.” She caught herself. She could always be honest with Lachlan. “Okay, that’s not true. I was at first, but when I got into class and started interacting with the students?—”

“It all came back.” He nodded. “I told you it would.”

“You were right.” She smiled. Lachlan had always been encouraging. It was one of his best qualities as a person. “How are your parents?”

“Thrilled. They officially have all their children back in Alba. My sister Nora has returned from Ireland and recently married one of the Northern chiefs. She’s spending some time in Sgain though and working to renovate and update the library.”

“Your mother must be pleased.”

“She is, and my father is less of a tyrant with his favorite child close.” Lachlan smiled. “Neither Rory nor I can hold a candle to Nora in his eyes. He is—as you would say in the Brightlands—a complete ‘girl dad.’”

“I’d heard Rory was back too.” She glanced to her right. “Duncan mentioned it.”

“Hmm.”

“That’s it?” Her eyebrows went up. “Just a ‘hmm’?”

“Rory is back from Cymru with ambition on his mind.” Lachlan’s sunshine expression clouded. “We’ll talk more about that later.” He glanced at Duncan. “Duncan, how is your mother?”

“She’s doing well,” Duncan said quietly. “Thank you for asking.”

Dru looked over his shoulder. “We’re crossing into King Dafydd’s estate.” He pointed ahead where the massive English oak trees, birch, and alder thinned out. The fog was lifting, and the stone-lined path disappeared, leaving them walking on a hard-packed dirt road rutted with carriage tracks.

Moments after their group left the cover of trees, Carys saw them. Flying through the drifting fog and slipping in and out of the clouds, half a dozen dragons filled the sky.

Dragons. An entire horde of dragons.

Her heart raced, and she turned to Cadell. “Go. I know you want to.”

Dru added, “It’s safe here. I’ll make sure she gets to Dafydd’s castle.”

“As will I,” Duncan said.

“And I,” Lachlan added. “I’m staying nearby.”

The fire in Cadell’s eyes matched the glowing fire in his throat. “My children are near. I can feel them.”

“Then go!” Carys impulsively reached up and gave him a hug. “Go. I’m safe on Dafydd’s estate. You know I am. Give them my love.”

“Thank you, Nêrys.” Cadell stepped away from her, handing his pack to Duncan before he ran toward the open field, his human body shimmering away as his arms reached to the sky, swiftly growing into massive wings that lifted his iridescent green body from the prison of the ground and into the sky that was his home.

Laura let out a small breath as her eyes followed Cadell’s path into the clouds. “That never gets old.”

“Nope.” Carys felt his joy in her heart, and she nearly called him to come and grab her in his giant claws to carry her into the air with him. One of these days I want to meet your children, Cadell.

One day you will.

“Come.” Dru motioned them toward a pair of massive bronze gates set into a high stone wall. “Your uncle will be expecting you.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “And we must get our halflings a proper second breakfast.”

“Carys!” Dafydd’s voice boomed through the hallway Dru led them to. “You are most welcome.” He left his chair and walked toward them. It appeared a small banquet really was laid out. “Most welcome, my dear.”

“Dafydd.” Carys was immediately enveloped in a hearty embrace that reminded her so much of her father it brought an unexpected rush of tears to her eyes. “It’s so good to see you.” She held on far longer than she intended but noticed that Dafydd did the same.

“Well.” When he finally pulled away, he dashed a bright sheen of tears from his eyes. “You’re looking well.”

“As are you.” She blinked back her own tears and stepped back and held out her hand for Laura. “I brought a friend from California. I hope that’s okay.”

Dafydd’s face registered surprise, but it gave way immediately to pleasure. “Of course. You must treat my home as your own.” He held out a hand. “A pleasure to meet you, my dear.”

“I appreciate your hospitality.” Laura shook his hand. “I’m a friend, but I’m also a pauwau inwe of the Yurok people. I’m born Brightkin, but I’m an ambassador between our people on both sides of the gates.”

“Yes, I have heard of this,” Dafydd said. “An excellent system. I believe it fosters better relationships between the fae and the humans in your country.”

“We think so.”

“Welcome to our islands and to my home,” Dafydd said. “You are most welcome. I will inform Harold’s people that an ambassador from across the sea will be joining our party. I can assure you they will welcome such an esteemed guest.”

“You’re very kind.”

Carys looked at the empty seat on the other side of Dafydd’s chair. “Where’s Eamer?”

“Back in Cymru,” Dafydd said. “Looking after things while I am here.” He lowered his voice. “After what happened in Alba, there has been some… hesitation about Eíran participation in the coronation.”

What had happened in Alba was nothing less than a revelation of treachery from two Eíran noblewomen. Regan, the daughter of the Eíran queen and a powerful sorceress, had assassinated Carys’s Shadowkin—Dafydd’s daughter Seren, the heir to the Cymric throne. She’d also kidnapped Carys and nearly killed her before she destroyed Duncan’s home.

Only Carys knew that Aisling, Seren’s best friend and a granddaughter of Queen Orla of éire, was truly responsible for Seren’s death.

“Duncan.” Dafydd greeted the tall blacksmith. “So good to see you. And Lachlan of course.” Dafydd shook hands with both of them. “Glad your father could spare you for the event.”

“He wanted Rory to catch up with the chiefs,” Lachlan said. “I was able to get away.”

“Only because you’re the most likable, my boy.” Dafydd clapped Lachlan on the shoulder and led all of them to the table filled with food.

Seren’s death and Carys’s kidnapping were sordid crimes surrounded by more rumor than fact. Carys wasn’t surprised that the Anglian court was suspicious of the Eíran throne, particularly when Queen Orla was so closely aligned with powerful fae.

“Is Queen Orla coming to the coronation?” Carys asked.

“Oh yes. She and Prince Cian are due to arrive via fae gate for the welcome banquet.” Dafydd pulled out a chair for Carys and clapped his hands for the servants. “More food for our guests, Angharad. And call for Anwyn and Dylan to join us.”

“Very well, my lord.” A woman in a neat suit nodded brusquely and immediately began barking orders at the staff in Cymric.

Carys had been brushing up on her Welsh, but the dialect of her mother’s language was different in the Shadowlands than what she could learn in the Brightlands. Still, a little of it made sense.

“Anwyn and Dylan?” Carys reached for a bowl of roasted turnips only to have the spoon snatched from her hand as Duncan started to serve her.

“Let me,” he murmured.

“Thanks.”

“And sausages?” Lachlan took two from a platter and set them on her plate. “Remember, it’s colder here.”

“I’m fine.” She held up her hands. “That’s plenty. Both of you.” She looked at Laura with wide eyes, but her best friend was trying to stifle laughter.

“You’ve done this to yourself,” Laura whispered.

“Shut up.” Carys now had two large Scotsmen hovering over her, trying to feed her, and she was about ready to boot both of them out the large double doors when those doors parted and a pair of soldiers walked into the hall.

“Carys.” Dafydd stood again, followed by everyone at the table. “Your cousins, my dear.”

She turned and saw two fierce warriors glaring at her, a man and a woman, both clad in leather armor that looked similar to dragon-wear and sporting long, curved swords at their waists.

“These are my younger brother’s children,” Dafydd said. “Anwyn the eldest, and Dylan, her younger brother.”

Both were dark-haired and bore more than a passing resemblance to Carys. They had the same dark brown hair and vivid blue eyes. Both were of medium height, and Anwyn carried a long scar that dragged from her left cheekbone nearly to her chin.

It did nothing to detract from her striking looks; both of Carys’s cousins looked like complete badasses.

“Hello.” Carys didn’t know what to do with her hands. She didn’t think a handshake would be welcome when both of them had one hand on the pommel of their swords and the other was fisted as they stood at attention.

“Lady Carys.” Anwyn spoke in English. “Welcome to our uncle’s home. And welcome to the company of nêr ddraig. Cadell is a wise and worthy dragon.” She gave Carys an assessing look. “We trust he has chosen well.”

Trust wasn’t exactly screaming from their expressions, but Carys decided they were both playing polite for now.

For now.

“Both Anwyn and Dylan are dragon lords,” Dafydd said. “The pride of the Cymric royal family.”

Anwyn and Dylan both bowed deeply before they stood up straight.

“You honor us, Uncle,” Dylan said. “We are servants of the throne.”

“We look forward to flying with Carys,” Anwyn said. “Rumors say that you are nearly as accomplished an archer as Seren was.”

“That would be an exaggeration,” Carys said. “I’m still training.”

Anwyn’s mouth twitched in what might have been a smirk. “Of course you are.” She turned to Dafydd. “Uncle, we are training with your guards. If there is nothing else you need from us, we should return to them.”

“Have you eaten?” Dafydd asked.

“We ate at first light,” Dylan said. “As is expected of our company.” He glanced at Carys, then back at Dafydd. “Unless you have need of us?—”

“Go.” Dafydd waved them away. “We’ll have to arrange for some family time when you are not so busy.”

Family time was about the last thing that Carys imagined these two wanted. “It was nice meeting you,” she called out to Anwyn’s and Dylan’s retreating figures. “See you later.”

Everyone sat again, and Carys immediately noticed that her food had gone cold.

“They adored Seren,” Dafydd said. “I’m sure the three of you will enjoy getting to know each other as soon as they have time.”

“Oh, they hate me.” Carys sat in a large embroidered chair in the chambers that Dafydd had prepared for her. “They hate me so much.”

Laura was sitting in another chair near the fire, holding her hands out to warm them. “They might have loved your Shadowkin, but they were also mentally preparing their own coronations after Seren died,” Laura said. “Now you show up—bonded with your Shadowkin’s dragon and wearing Seren’s face. They’re not going to be your biggest fans.”

Carys dragged her chair next to Laura’s and kept her voice low. “I don’t want to be queen of Cymru,” she whispered. “But I feel like that’s Dafydd’s idea, and it’s not a good one.”

“You’re not Seren.”

“Exactly!” Carys kept her voice to a hissed whisper. “I’m a mythology professor from California. I don’t even speak Welsh. There is no way I would make a good queen.”

“So you need to make that clear to your uncle,” Laura said. “Just like you need to pick a Scotsman. Because two is kind of too much.”

“Easier said than done.” Carys sat back with a groan. “Do you want to pick for me?”

“As of right now, I’d pick Lachlan,” Laura said. “Because I know him, and I don’t know Duncan nearly as well. But from the look on your face right now?—”

“What look?” Carys sat up and schooled her expression. “I have no looks.”

“—and the fact that you didn’t leap into Lachlan’s arms the moment you saw him at the market,” Laura continued, “I’m guessing the affections are getting a little blurry these days.”

Carys squeezed her eyes shut. “How do you pick between two good men?”

“Well, Lachlan lied to you and Duncan didn’t.” Laura shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong; I get it. If you wanted to get picky, you could even say that I’ve been lying to you my entire life by not telling you about the Shadowlands.”

“You didn’t lie to me. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“But I didn’t tell you the whole truth,” Laura said. “Because we’re not supposed to. And that has probably been drilled into Lachlan’s head from the moment anyone found out he’d gone through a gate. So I have some sympathy for him.”

“You can relate to him.” Carys nodded. “That makes sense.”

“I also watched Lachlan drag you back to life when I was really scared for you.” Laura’s voice got soft. “So I can’t be unbiased. I love Lachlan, and I love how happy you were when you were together. That doesn’t mean that Duncan isn’t also a wonderful man, and I recognize the fact that Lachlan was married to your Shadowkin makes things impossibly messy.”

“Yeah, it really does.” Carys sighed. “Did you really not know that Lachlan was Shadowkin when he showed up in Baywood?”

Carys’s best friend had said she didn’t know, but sometimes it was hard for Carys to imagine she couldn’t sense anything different about the Alban prince.

“I knew he was different, but he was from an entirely different country,” Laura said. “Had he shown up with Duncan, of course I would have known. But on his own?” She shrugged. “He didn’t have magic in the Brightlands.” She scooted forward. “Wait, so does he have magic here? What do they call it here when humans?—”

“Fae-touched.” Carys stretched out her legs, growing sleepy with a full stomach and a roaring fire. “He’s got a bit of musical magic here.”

“And Duncan?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “He’s a normal Brightkin. Unlike me.”

“You know what Cadell and I think.”

Laura and Cadell were both of the opinion that Carys’s mother Tegan wasn’t born in the Brightlands at all. Which meant that somehow her mother had made it from the Shadowlands of Cymru to the Brightlands of California and bore a child, which should have been impossible.

But Carys was clearly more than mundane, so that was the best theory they had.

“I’m going to fall asleep,” Carys murmured. “Is that okay?”

“I’m about to join you.” Laura yawned. “We have full stomachs and our bodies think it’s three in the morning. Or maybe in the afternoon. We’ve got jet lag and shadow lag.”

“Is that a thing?”

“It is now.” Laura stood and took Carys’s hand. “Come on. Let’s nap in your bed because I don’t know where mine is yet, and that thing looks like it could bunk a small army.”

“We’ll just sleep for a couple of hours.” Carys was already falling over.

“Sure. That sounds like a plan.”

Nêrys?

“Cadell is calling me.”

“He’s back already?”

Carys had the same thought. Are you already back?

I told you my children were close by. His voice was warm and happy. I will see them again, but I wanted to return to you.

I’m going to sleep for a while. Wake me up in a couple of hours?

Understood. You and Laura should both rest. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.

I met my cousins . She sent her thoughts to her dragon. They hate me.

Cadell’s rumbly voice came back to her mind. They are thinking of their own position in the Cymric court.

“Surprise, surprise,” she muttered.

“What surprise?” Laura crawled under a heavy, fur-lined blanket.

“Nothing.” Carys patted her arm. “Let’s get some sleep.”

She closed her eyes and opened them moments later to Cadell’s voice in her mind.

Nêrys .

She sat up and noticed that it was completely dark outside. “Okay, so that was more than a minute.” She reached across the bed and shook Laura’s leg. “Hey. It’s night already.”

The cross human is looking for you.

“Duncan?” Carys rubbed her eyes. “What does?—”

A rapping at the door interrupted what she was going to say and had Laura sitting bolt upright in bed.

“But scales aren’t sexy,” Laura blurted.

Carys looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to tell me about that dream later.” She crawled out of bed and walked to the door, cracking it open and not at all surprised to see Duncan on the other side. “Hey. What’s up?”

His eyes were dancing. “You want to see something brilliant?”

“Brilliant as in cool? Or brilliant as in something that will require brainpower?”

“Brilliant as in cool,” Duncan said. “Doood.”

“Please don’t say dude . It sounds very wrong.” She looked over her shoulder at Laura. “Okay, let us change our clothes and we’ll be out in a minute.”

Duncan couldn’t stop his grin. “Cool.”

God, he was so adorable when he didn’t care about being goofy. Carys closed the door and leaned against it, her heart beating in rapid rhythm when she remembered Duncan’s smile.

“That smile is making me lean to the grumpy one,” Laura said.

“You’re no help.” Carys walked toward the wardrobe where she knew she’d probably find a bunch of Seren’s old clothes. “No help at all.”

“I know,” Laura said. “I am the worst.”