Page 26 of The Shadow Path
“Who are they?” she whispered.
“Well, there’s the high fae court of Temris—that’s in Ireland,” Duncan clarified. “Éire. But all over Briton, all over the land, there are wild fae. Powerful creatures attached to rivers or forests or… anything really. They’re not part of the political life like Prince Cian is, but they’re still very powerful.”
“What is that?” Carys kept her voice low. “What are they singing?”
Duncan slowed his horse to a walk, keeping to the edge of the tree line. He shook his head. “I don’t know. They sing every night, but I’ve never heard them like this. Some boys in the stables were talking about it after dinner, and they said we should ride out and see.” He smiled, his eyes fixed on the light show before them. “I’m so glad I listened.”
Cadell drew up beside them with Laura on his right side. “They’re singing a kingsong. It’s a welcome chorus.” The dragon shook his head. “I have not heard this song in many years.”
Carys saw others in along the edge of the river, other riders and people on foot, all peering through the trees as the dark and slow-moving span of river that stretched before them came alive in the darkness.
There were adults and children of every color and type of clothing. Children walked down to the banks and set shining candles along the shore. Adults lit lanterns that floated up and over the river, reflecting light below.
“It’s so beautiful,” Laura whispered. She blinked shining tears from her eyes.
Shadowlands London might be different than Brightlands London, but what Carys saw on the dim bank of the river was a tapestry of human and magical creatures.
Stout trolls conferred with human neighbors, pointing at the bright lights dancing among the reeds. A long-haired fae woman helped the human children light the candles, whispering something that made them laugh.
Carys had never seen a scene like it. The fae lights over the river appeared like a luminous display that might happen for a holiday or a celebration, and the echo of their singing drifted across the water and filled the night sky with an ethereal beauty.
“Is it for the Anglian king?” Carys asked. “Is this to celebrate the coronation?”
“The fae do not recognize human rulers,” Cadell whispered. “Neither the high fae or the wild. This is for something else. Something far more powerful.”
Below the water, golden ribbons undulated in time with the music, and some vast and terrifying creature rose from the deep, breaching the surface of the water before it slid into darkness again, taking its golden glow with it.
“Is that a sea monster?” Carys whispered.
“It’s the Great Serpent.” Cadell’s voice was reverent. “He lives in the depths and is the guardian of the Tamis River and all her creatures. The kingsong has called him to the surface.” The dragon whispered something under his breath that sounded like an incantation or a prayer.
Carys wanted to go closer. She wanted to wade into the long grass along the riverbank, hang on to the willow branches, and dip her fingers into the gold-brushed water. A tug in her chest told her that nothing dangerous lurked there.
Of course, it was entirely possible that’s exactly what the river wanted her to think.
The song continued, as did the light show. Dancing blue and green lights appeared overhead, swirling in patterns that weaved like intricate knots in the black sky.
There were no stars because the fog was too thick to see the sky, leaving the fae lights to illuminate the darkness in magical whorls and golden threads.
Laura was staring at the edge of the water. “Carys, look.”
She tore her eyes away from the dancing lights to see dark silhouettes perched on stones upstream and away from the crowds. They were sitting along the edge of the muddy riverbank. The pert heads of otters mingling with otherworldly creatures left her blinking in disbelief.
“Cadell,” Laura whispered, “are those mermaids? Selkies?”
The dragon glanced at the edge of the water where Laura was pointing. “Don’t point.” He grabbed her hand. “The mermin have traveled upriver.” He frowned. “Very unusual. They rarely leave the deep water. They’re very shy.”
One of the mermin must have caught their scent or their sound, because the creature with long, weedy hair and pale grey skin turned, bright blue eyes glowing in the darkness. They hunched their bare shoulders, whispered to the otter, and both creatures dove into the black depths of the river and disappeared.
“I want to go closer.” Carys nudged her horse to the right, making for a dark, shadowed copse of trees a little closer to the river. “If we go over here, we can see more and we’ll be away from the candles.”
She nudged her horse—a sweet-faced dappled grey mare—closer to the darkened bunch of trees, aiming for a fold of blackness that would hide her from the view of the river fae. “No one will see us over here.”
“Nêrys, wait for me,” Cadell whispered. “Laura, where did you go?”
“Carys, don’t go that way.” Duncan kept his voice low. “Wait for…”
Before she could turn back for Duncan, the fog closed behind her, blanketing Carys in gentle silence.
