Page 12 of The Shadow Path
Carys had never been to London before, so she’d been disappointed that they were arriving in the middle of the night. However, once she saw the traffic at three a.m., she was more than happy to delay a city tour.
They crossed the River Thames, the wide black tributary that snaked through the old city, for the second time that night, and then they were driving on surface streets as rain spattered on the roof and dripped down windows to create a kaleidoscope from the colorful lights of the city at night.
Carys didn’t know what time it was, and she wasn’t even sure what day it was, so when they pulled up to a glowing white row of houses across from a neat park, the only thoughts in her head were: Feet up. Sleep. Food.
“Holy rich people’s houses, Batman,” Laura whispered. “I knew Duncan came from money, but holy shit.”
Cadell said, “The laird comes from great wealth on his father’s side, but his mother comes from even more. This is her home. She doesn’t enjoy Scotland.”
“Right.” Laura’s eyes were as wide as saucers when the door opened and the uniformed driver held his hand out for her to take.
They all hurried toward the door, which was opened before they could even reach the bell.
“Duncan.” A woman in a grey uniform held out her arms. “Come out of the rain. Quickly.”
All four of them entered the house, and before Carys knew what was happening, her coat was whisked away, her luggage had disappeared, and someone was ushering all of them into a cozy parlor where a fire was burning and a meal was set out to eat.
“Mr. Cadell.” The woman gestured toward a table near the fire. “The laird was quite specific about your diet.” She motioned to a platter containing a standing rib roast and nothing else. “I hope this meets your expectations.”
“Excellent.” Cadell sat at the table and immediately began devouring the roast before Carys and Laura could even sit down.
“Don’t wait for the ladies, dragon.” Duncan held Laura’s chair for her and waited for both of them to sit down. “God knows we don’t want you to start feeding on Mother’s spaniels.”
Carys sat down, but her head was swinging side to side.
She’d seen Duncan’s estate in Scotland, but though this house was smaller, the wealth on display was far more obvious.
There were no suits of armor, weapons on the walls, or plaid cushions. But there were graceful landscape paintings, china on the table, and oil portraits of various stoic ancestors staring down from shadowy corners.
“This is your mother’s house?” Laura asked. “So big money, right?”
Duncan nodded as he reached to uncover a silver tray. “Very big money. Her mother’s family has owned this house since the 1840s or something. My uncles also live in the neighborhood. All filthy rich.”
“But you live in Scotland?”
“I prefer it.” There was a dish with medallions of some poultry on the tray along with roasted potatoes and carrots. “I don’t like the formality here, but I can appreciate her cook.”He served Carys, then Laura. “Dig in; then we should get some sleep.”
Carys took a bite of the roasted bird, which was probably pheasant or goose or something very English. She didn’t care what it was—it was delicious, and she’d had no idea how ravenous she was until she took a bite.
“How long are we staying here?” Laura asked quietly. “And where do we find a gate?”
“I know a gate, and we should probably cross tomorrow.” He looked at Carys. “Your uncle is expecting you. You’ll be staying at his estate in London on the other side.”
Cadell lifted his head from his systematic destruction of the beef roast to say, “There’s a gate nearby. I can feel it.”
“Correct,” Duncan said. “In fact, there’s one within walking distance. Most of the gates in London are attached to rivers, and the old Cye Bourne is only a few blocks away.”
Cadell lifted his head. “The Cye Bourne? You don’t mean to take them under the Night Bridge, do you?”
“Knightsbridge?” Laura narrowed her eyes. “If this is Belgravia, that’s the neighborhood right next to us. South of Hyde Park?”
“Knightsbridge is the modern name,” Duncan said. “But in the Shadowlands, it’s not knight with ak. It’s called the Night Bridge because a market happens every night, and being right next to a fae gate, it’s a very… interesting market.”
“A market right next to a fae gate?” Laura asked. “Let me guess, not exactly legal, right?”
“Not in the slightest.” Cadell’s face was grim. “It’s atrollmarket, and at night humans are traded there like property. They also trade in wild fae and other magical creatures. Potion dealers. Black mages, and every sort of contraband from the Brightlands. Duncan, you cannot take them there. Do you want me to burn down a troll market and instigate war with Anglia?”
Carys raised a hand. “I’m going to say that’s a very bad idea right before a big fancy royal event, so maybe we find another place.”
