Page 165 of The Shadow Path
Before the battle, when we were arguing, you said Ogwen Valley. Why?
I don’t know.Wait. She did know. The memory of that still, persistent voice was in her mind.There was a voice in my mind. I think it was Rhiannon maybe? It told me to tell you Ogwen Valley when you wanted to ignore me.
This voice sounded like the goddess?
No, it sounded like my own voice, but isn’t that how the gods speak to you?
Perhaps.
The dragon was quiet after that. Or maybe the magic of the Shadowlands was fading as they pressed through the heavy brush. The laughter and whispers were dying down, as was the sound of feathers.
“Fae?” Godrik’s voice boomed behind her. “You are limping.”
Carys stopped and turned. “Naida?”
“Keep walking,” the ellyllon replied. “I’ll be fine.”
“You are limping,” Godrik said again.
Carys halted, but Duncan urged her on.
“I can see the light in the distance,” he said. “It’s going to be dawn in London. Come on, we need to keep going.”
“Walk.” Naida’s voice was stronger. “Keep walking. I’ll be fine.”
There was a thready quality to her voice, and Carys knew that she was in pain.
“I will carry you.” Godrik’s voice came through the darkness. “Don’t argue.”
There was no arguing from behind her, so Carys kept moving forward.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
The blue wisps flew away, and the cool grey dawn appeared before her, the brush around her cloaked with fog.
Carys stumbled out from between two tangled yew trees, her ankles catching on some overgrowth in the grass. She walked forward, pulling Duncan behind her, and saw a narrow asphalt track just ahead.
As Carys walked forward from the bushes, she saw Laura emerge from the trees, then Cadell, and finally Godrik walked through, carrying Naida cradled in his arms.
Footsteps sounded in the distance, and emerging from the fog, a jogger slowed, taking out a white earbud as he squinted at the motley crew of people who probably looked like they’d just come from a Renaissance fair.
“Hey.” Carys waved at him. “Good morning.”
The jogger paused, running in place, then shook his head, put his earbud back in, and muttered, “Fuckin’ tourists.”
A moment after that, they were alone.
Duncan closedthe door in his mother’s large town house in Belgravia and looked at them. “She’s sleeping. I gave her filtered water and tried to take everything metal out of the room that I could find. If she’s not better by tonight, I say we take her back through the gate.”
“She’ll be fine.” Godrik was dressed in some of Duncan’s Brightlands clothes, and the pale grey sweater highlighted the silver in his hair and his cool grey eyes. “The small fae has a surprisingly strong constitution.”
Even in human clothes, he looked like a wolf.
“I have been reaching for my power ever since we passed through the gate, but I feel nothing,” Godrik said. “I cannot sense any larger power here. Dragon, what do you feel?”
“Nothing, but if the Morrigan is stretching her power, we might not feel it until we get closer to her,” Cadell said. “As soon as Naida is well, we should go to Gorne Wood.”
“Assuming the Morrigan is still there,” Carys said. “She may already have moved on.”
