Page 16 of The Shadow Path
She couldn’t say exactly when the shift came, but she felt the claustrophobic press of brick and mud give way and the air around her expanding. The wisps danced and sighed in her ears. There were dark whispers in the distance, and when the firstglow of light finally touched the horizon, she didn’t see trees but the shadowed silhouettes of figures walking to and fro.
The ground beneath her feet turned from brick to mud to cobblestones, and she could hear water flowing in the distance.
“I’ve never seen a gate like this,” Laura whispered behind her. “What is this place?”
They emerged into an alleyway where the fog was so thick Carys could barely see Dru’s head as he led them into what looked like a cross between the Alemany Farmers’ Market in San Francisco and a flea market.
It was early morning, and the air smelled of fish, mud, and damp wool. Along the banks of a slow-moving river, she saw figures of every shape and size setting up shops.
There was a barrel-chested creature with a forked black beard, piercing eyes, and a plaid kilt setting out leather goods. Belts, bags, and what looked like an ordinary backpack with a pair of mouse ears silhouetted on the front pocket.
Across from the leather shop, a tall, willowy female figure with bright white hair that resembled cotton candy was setting out glass bottles filled with potions of every color. Beside her, a shorter version of herself was setting out comic book playing cards from the Brightlands in a single row.
Laura’s eyes went wide. “Is that allowed here?”
“Shhh,” Dru whispered. “Don’t stare.”
“Not technically,” Carys whispered. “But you see more crossover here than in Baywood.”
Carys had never seen a hint of the Brightlands in the Shadowlands of California save for some clothing styles and Shadowlands takes on things like lunch boxes and modern fashion. But artifacts from one world crossing over? Not a single one.
She put her hand on the stash of treasure in her coat’s inside pocket and hoped no one could read her mind.
What are you hiding, Nêrys?
Oh right. Dragon. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Cadell was wearing the hint of a smile.
No shifting yet,she thought at him.
I know.
Mental communication had become second nature to her in the months she’d been training with Cadell.
Do you still have my bow?
I do.
Cadell had been the one to suggest Carys take her compound bow with her. It had no steel or iron and was made exclusively of carbon fiber and aluminum, both materials that the fae allowed in the Shadowlands, though aluminum wasn’t common.
Cadell had packed her bow in the large bag he carried on his back, and as the market grew more and more crowded, Carys drifted closer to the safety of her dragon.
“Pike,” a thick man barked from the riverbank. “Fresh pike and perch today.”
She glanced at the fishmonger’s swarthy face, a silver beard covering the lower half and a pair of pointed ears peeking from a red cap.
“Pike,” he called again. “Fresh fish from the river.”
As more and more creatures arrived at the market and more stalls were set up, Carys could see why the mythology about trolls was so varied.
There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to any of them.
The trolls setting up in the market were tall and short, stout and slender. There were creatures that reminded her of trees and ones that seemed completely made of moving rock. The only common feature appeared to be a certain roundness to the face and nose, larger-than-average pointed ears, and a wild aspect that Carys couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“Wood and stone,” Laura whispered. “They’re elementals.”
Carys nodded. “Maybe that’s it.”
Unicorns had elemental magic too, but they were otherworldly in their beauty while the trolls that ran this market looked like they could melt into a forest or mountainside in the blink of an eye.
