Page 31 of The Shadow Path
As far as Carys knew, the high fae of Briton had no king or queen in this realm as humans did. The closest the fae had to a ruler was Prince Cian, the consort of the Eíran Queen Orla.
“Are you the reason the river folk are singing a kingsong and the serpent has risen from the deep? Oh, won’t Cian be pleased?”
Kingsong? Oberon? Carys had a sneaking feeling that fae politics were going to get a lot more complicated with Dru’s return.
She walked forward, and as soon as Dru spotted her, he stopped talking and snapped something in Gaelic at Lachlan.
Lachlan turned, saw Carys, and his face lit up like the sun. “And there she is. We were just speaking about your appointment with the Crow Mother last night.”
Dru said, “Appointmentis an interesting word.” He turned and whistled. Moments later, Leuca trotted out of the stables, already saddled and bridled, as if she was waiting for Carys to arrive.
“Leuca!” She stepped forward and caught the mare’s reins in her hand. “Good morning.” She grabbed an apple from her pocket and held it out. “I was hoping to see you this morning.”
“You speak as if she understands,” Lachlan said.
“She does.” Dru whispered into the horse’s ear and drew his cloak around his body. “Your uncle was kind enough to let me stay on his estate as I have no home in Briton anymore.”
“In the stables?” Carys accepted Lachlan’s hand as she mounted her horse. “The house is massive. I’m sure there’s a room available.”
“No, thank you.” Dru smiled and looked at the forest. “I prefer the stables.” He patted Leuca’s neck. “It’s a pleasure to be near wild things and warm hearts.”
“I’ll speak to you later,” Lachlan said. “Carys, shall we?” He patted his saddlebags. “I’ve packed a meal for us.”
“Excellent.” Her stomach was rumbling. “Dru, we’ll see you later?”
“I’m here.” His voice was grim. “For good luck or bad, we’ll see in the end.”
Carys and Lachlan walked their horses out of the yard and onto the road. She was silent, breathing in the morning air and drinking in the pearly morning light.
“Why didn’t you tell me about seeing the Crow Mother last night?”
Carys looked to the right. “Because we were flirting in my room when you came to wake me up, and mysterious fae sorceresses were the last thing on my mind.”
Lachlan smiled. “Fair enough.”
The lane outside Dafydd’s estate was a broad boulevard that bordered multiple grand estates, all of them bound by stone walls that enclosed vast green lawns dotted with grazing sheep.
Carys could see the crush of the city in the distance, but while they’d be smack into Brightlands London riding just north of Hyde Park, in the Shadowlands, the rolling land north of the woods was strewn with massive stone houses, grazing land, and scattered stands of forest.
Lachlan handed her an orange. “A bit of home from the continent for you. An ambassador from Gaulle came for a visit this morning. And please tell me if you see the Crow Mother again. She’s trouble.”
“I’mgoingto see her again. I have to.” Carys took the orange and immediately began to peel it. “This is a treat. Don’t tell me there’s coffee too.”
Lachlan smiled. “None but what you’ve brought with you.”
“Does everyone know about that?” she whispered. “If you guys try to steal my stash, I’m going to get mean. Be warned.”
They passed from the wider road into the park, and immediately the trees around her felt wild. There was an eerie silence under their branches, and she realized there was little to no birdsong even though it was morning.
“You know, in the redwood forest, sometimes visitors complain that there aren’t many birds.” Carys looked around at the ancient tangled oaks, twisting elms, and delicate birches. “But they don’t realize all the birds live so high up that you just don’t hear them.”
“I did notice that, but I’d never put it together with the height of the trees.”
“But here…” Carys looked at the hardwood forest. “There should be birds, right?”
“There are birds,” Lachlan said. “But these woods have very old magic and they’re hunting grounds, so the birds might avoid it even during the day. I doubt many of them nest here.”
“Hunting grounds?”
