Page 129 of The Shadow Path
“You there!” a woman shouted. “Stop this, both of you!”
There was a scuffle and a grunt as a crowd gathered in front of a tall cart painted bright blue and stacked with tin canisters.
Duncan strode into the melee with Cadell behind him. “What are you doing, you idiots?”
Two humans were wrestling over a tin canister that rolled on the ground.
Cadell picked up one man by the collar while Duncan wrangled the other man’s arms behind his back.
As they were fighting, a woman jumped on the back of the wagon and lifted her arms. “I told all of you, one per person and that’s all we have today!”
People in the crowd shouted, but Cadell walked over, tossed the thrashing man to the ground, and roared at them, his throat growing red and his body getting bigger.
“Calm down,” the dragon said. “There will be no violence today.”
Moments later, red-coated soldiers ran through the center of the market with their shields up, and the crowd settled down.
“What is going on?” Carys righted the canister and heard sloshing. “Is this… milk? You guys are fighting over milk?”
The man Cadell had thrown on the ground stared at the milk canister with greedy eyes. “We have five families living in a house with one hob to guard the little ones,” he said. “We need the milk more than he does.”
“You havefivefamilies?” The man Duncan was holding tried to lunge forward. “Our village had forty cows yesterday, and this morning they’re all dead. Every one of them. If the broonies don’t get milk, not a child in our village is safe.”
Conditions in the city and surrounding villages were growing dire. It was just as Dru had said. The household fae were protecting human families, but brownies were proud folk. Insult them, and they would leave you for another family that was all too eager to bribe them with whatever they had.
All this was happening at the same time that crops and animals were suffering all over Anglia and Alba. The ellyllon of Cymru were offering humans in that country their protection, and refugees were pouring into the southern valleys and the mountains in the north, searching for a safe place for their people and animals.
But in Anglia, villagers had taken to gathering wild roots and hunting game, which were not affected by whatever spells Cian’s magic had spread in the soil. Wheat and barley crops withered in the fields, and only wild oats survived.
Hares and rabbits were plentiful, and fish still jumped in the river, but dairy cows were growing sick and dying, and sheep neither gave wool nor dropped lambs on the hillsides. The only domestic animals that seemed to be too stubborn to die were the goats, and if you had a flock of those, you could ask any price for their milk that you wished.
The dead livestock were piled on the outskirts of London and set on fire by the dragons before sickness could spread, but nothing seemed to stop the plague from spreading across the land.
“Thought we had some magic of our own.” The man that Duncan held wrested free from the blacksmith’s grasp and shook his shoulders. “What’s the king doing to stop these fae bastards?”
“It’s not all the fae,” Carys said. “Remember, the brownies and the sprites are the ones protecting?—”
“It may not be all of them.” The man’s face fell when he saw the canister of milk disappear into the crowd. “But it’s enough.” His shoulders slumped. “We won’t survive this.”
Carys leaned close. “Go to King Dafydd’s manor north of Hyde Forest. Tell them Carys sent you, and there should be some milk they can give you. So far our cows have been healthy.”
Whatever wards Laura had put up were working, and Dru’s magic infused the soil. While most of London was withering, Hyde Forest and the surrounding meadows were thriving. The wolves had to patrol the forests at night to keep Londoners from poaching too many of the deer. The city was hungry, and meat was becoming a luxury when venison and beef had been plentiful only weeks before.
The village man looked at the ground. “Thank you, my lady.”
Duncan walked over as the man was calling for his teenage son who was waiting by a small wagon. “You can’t feed all of London, Carys.”
“I know.” She sighed. “But I can help him.”
Duncan put his hand on the hilt of his sword as Cadell handed management of the milk wagon over to Harold’s soldiers. “This is only going to get worse.”
“It’s like siege warfare,” Carys muttered. “What does Cian think he’s doing?”
“Honestly? Probably thinning the population before he invades.”
It had been a little over a week since the crows had come with Cian and Orla’s message and the children had disappeared. London had a new king who hadn’t yet consolidated power, a hungry population, and many of the friendly fae had fled out of fear of human retribution.
It was no wonder dark clouds hung over the city.
