Page 155 of The Shadow Path
Nêrys—
Please trust me.She grabbed Duncan’s hand and looked at him. “Trust me.”
“What are you going to do?” Duncan whispered. “Don’t be a fool, Carys.”
“Seren knew Finola. She respected her. Me looking like a dead woman might just shock her into giving me a moment before her guards start shooting.”
Before Duncan could grab her or Cadell could yell more in her brain, Carys rushed toward the Éiren lines, waving her hands over her head.
“Hey!” she shouted. “He-ey! I need to talk to Finola!”
She only got about twenty yards before soldiers grabbed her and wrestled her arms behind her back.
“I’m not fighting!” Carys shouted. “I just want to talk.”
Duncan came roaring up behind her with his sword drawn. “Carys!”
“Put it away!” Carys spoke as quickly as she could. “I’m Lady Carys Morgan, nêrys ddraig of Cymru, niece of King Dafydd!” She nearly fell over as the duel between Cian and Dru raged in the distance and the ground rocked with the force of their blows.
A soldier grabbed her and put a knife to her throat.
“Lady Carys Morgan!” Her heart was pounding out of her chest. “Nêrys ddraig!”
The soldier holding her was confused. His knife eased off her neck. “Cymrais?”
“Lady Carys,” she said again. “Nêr ddraig.” The soldiers only spoke Éiren of course. She pointed to the sky. “Dragon! Ddraig.” She pounded a fist against the leather armor she wore. “Nêr ddraig.”
A few moments later, a knight in worn chain mail and a green-and-gold surcoat walked toward her and Duncan, speaking English. “You are a Cymric dragon lord and wish to speak with the crown princess?” His eyes were lined, and silver sprinkled his dark hair. His jaw was rough with stubble, and he wore a signet ring on his left hand.
An older knight, a man of some standing, and one with experience. It was exactly the kind of advisor Carys had been hoping to meet.
The ground rumbled again, and a tree shot up between Dru and Cian, its leaf-covered branches reaching out to try to wrap around Dru.
The knight’s eyes went wide, but he forced them back to Carys. “What does a dragon rider of Cymru want with our princess?”
Dru spun around, slashing at the tree and gripping the trunk as he ripped the living tree from the soil.
Carys looked the knight dead in the eye and kept her voice low. “I have a feeling that you and your princess and all your soldiers are really confused right now, and I would like to tell you what is going on.”
The giant birch tree that was attacking Dru groaned and twisted before it crumbled and dissolved into dust.
The wild fae cheered, but Carys saw the remnants of the Fomorians crawling in the distance, heading toward Cian and Dru as the two fae princes battled.
“Please,” Carys said. “For the sake of the Queens’ Pact, take me to Princess Finola.”
The knight didn’t say anything, but she could tell by the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes that he was more than a little confused by everything that was going on.
“Sir.” Carys spoke as calmly as she could manage. “I am trying to stop a war.”
The tall man looked at Duncan. “And Prince Lachlan?”
“Oh, I’m not him.” Duncan shook his head, and the men holding him loosened their grasp. “I’m his Brightkin.”
“I see.” The man might have said that, but he clearly didn’t know what was happening. “Come with me.” He lifted his chin at the men holding them and said, “I will take them.” He held his hand out to Duncan. “Your sword, sir.”
Duncan looked at Carys, who nodded.
He handed over his steel blade, and the older knight took it.
