Page 129 of Broken Veil
“Saddle.” Cadell crossed his arms over his chest. “You are describing a saddle.”
“Nota saddle.”
“As a horse would wear.” He stormed off.
“Cadell!” Laura jogged after him. “It definitely would not be a saddle.”
Finally Lachlan got out of the van, nodding at Duncan and Carys before he checked his sword under the back seat and then followed the rest of the group.
Duncan frowned. “Did we manage to leave Angus somewhere?”
“No!” A cranky voice came from the back of the van. “I was changing my jacket, that’s all.”
“Well, we’re here.”
“Good.” Angus folded himself in half as he exited the van, then lingered for a moment, attempting to tame his wild grey hair in the window of the vehicle.
“Angus, are you trying to…” Duncan frowned. “I’m confused.”
“Mind your business, human,” Angus growled.
He gave Duncan one last glare before he loped down the sidewalk.
“What was that about?” Duncan asked.
Carys shrugged. “I don’t know, but Angus is an old god.”
“Okay yes, but?—”
“And we’re going to see three ancient goddess.” Carys took Duncan’s hand and started walking. “Matriarchs. Mothers. Fertility goddesses.”
Duncan’s eyebrows went up. “And if I remember correctly, Pan got around in his day.”
“I mean…” She lifted one shoulder. “It’s possible he knows exactly who we’re going to visit.”
“Huh.” Duncan smirked a little bit, then walked down the road toward the brightly lit windows of Pages and Portals, the bookshop where the Mothers lived.
All of them waited until Carys arrived, and when she opened the door, a bell chimed over her head.
Then another bell sounded and another and another until the cozy shop rang with echoing chimes that sounded like rain falling on crystal.
A round-faced woman with a cloud of curly, nut-brown hair popped out from between two bookshelves, a smile creasing her face. “Oh, look who it is, sisters.”
Another woman came from the back room, thick black hair braided and decorated with flowers. The lights twinkled on the gold ring on the left side of her nose.
“Oshun, she’s here!” the second woman called.
Descending from a circular staircase in the back corner, a woman who could only be a goddess appeared. She wore a pair of flowing yellow overalls and a bright blue head wrap, and the scent of jasmine followed her.
She walked forward, and the two other goddesses flanked her.
“Hello, Carys Morgan,” they said in a singular voice. “We have been waiting for you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“More tea?” The woman—or goddess—Lakshmi held out a pot.
Carys dutifully nodded. “Please.”
