“Names have power, you know. Names can conjure power. Names can trap. Call a name often enough, and its owner might even become a god.”
The rowdy night market was abnormally quiet, though business continued in a muted fashion. The black river flowed in the background, glowing, golden trails rising to the surface every now and then from the serpents and water sprites that called it home. The night was clear and moonless, and no stars shone in the sky.
There was a faint golden aura hanging over the city like a fog of gold light from torches, fires, and the oil-burning streetlamps that lined the embankments and roads.
As the group walked down the cobblestone street, which still held muddy ash from the fires less than a week before, the trolls all stared at them from behind their booths and counters.
“They probably smell the coffee,” Cadell said.
“Something is wrong,” Laura said. “Don’t you feel it?”
The Kingsguard, in bright red uniforms and bronze and leather armor, patrolled in groups of four and six, joking among themselves and chatting with some of the vendors that remained.
“It’s too quiet,” Duncan said. “There are usually fae musicians that play on that corner.” He nodded toward the start of the bridge over the Tamis River. “They’re not playing tonight.”
Fae musicians.
Carys looked around the market, but the fae bookseller was gone. She scanned the tents and booths propped up against the brisk breeze coming off the river. “There are no fae here.”
Duncan looked around, and Cadell’s eyes narrowed.
“No fae at all,” Carys said.
Nêrys!Cadell froze, shouting in her mind.We must go now.
“What’s going on?” She turned and grabbed his arm. “Cadell?”
“Mared is calling me.” His throat burned and he stepped away, leaping toward the bridge and transforming in a shower of gold sparks that had the trolls in the market screaming and running for their lives.
Cadell, what is happening?
The Kingsguard ran toward them, but before the soldiers could reach them, the dragon whirled around, let out a burst of fire, and snatched Carys, Duncan, and Laura in his massive, curled claws, hurtling into the air with a heave of his great wings.
“What the hell is happening?” Duncan was furious. “Carys?”
Mared is shouting for me. She’s summoning the horde.
“Mared is summoning the dragon horde,” Carys shouted into the wind as Cadell soared over the river and across Hyde Forest, toward Dafydd’s estate.
An old fae gate burst open near the nesting grounds. They rushed in, and two children were taken before the minders realized what was happening.
“Oh my God.” Carys felt cold rush over her body, and it wasn’t only because of the wind. “A fae gate opened near the horde nesting grounds. Two children were taken.”
“What?” Laura shouted.
As Cadell soared into the air, a dark cloud appeared over the city.
Not a cloud, but a massive flock of crows that swooped and cawed as they dropped something from their claws.
Feathers?
No, not feathers. Papers. Pamphlets.
What did you do when you wanted to get a message out but there was no television or radio? Crow-pamphlet, Carys was guessing.
Slips of paper flew in the wind, blowing over the twisted streets and wooden roofs of London, tossed in the currents of the river, and landing in shining puddles throughout the muddy lanes.
One stuck to Carys’s cheek as Cadell flew through the night. She grabbed it, trying to read in the glow of the dragon’s fire.