Page 23 of Broken Veil
Yes. I know it.
Then don’t come here.
Why not?
Because I want you to make an entrance.
The gatethrough the fae fort was nothing at all like the gates the dark fae opened to the Brightlands. After descending into an immaculate earthen structure, they entered a passage lit by blue fae torches and lined with intricately carved and dressed stone. Painted columns held up the ceiling, and the portal itself felt like walking through a soft, shimmering curtain.
When Carys reached the other side, she was greeted by the scent of rosemary and the sound of trickling water in the distance. Naida and the unicorn led the way up from the earth and into the open air through another passage carved with even more intricate stonework.
Night was turning to day, and though the Shadowlands did not see the sun, a pearlescent dawn touched the edges of the horizon as they emerged from the earth. The light was a wash of pink in a deep blue sky.
Carys looked around her and knew this portal to the fae capital was intended to make a statement.
“Wow,” Laura said. “Just… wow.”
The unicorn turned and faced them. “Welcome to Temris, guests of High King Diarmuid mac Lir, ruler of the aes sídhe, son of Aíne the Wise.”
It was a greeting designed to impress, and it worked.
They were on a rise overlooking a glittering city, and rolling green hills surrounded them. Narrow spires pierced the sky, and the city, built from stone and wood, was trimmed in gold and silver that made buildings and towers shine in the low light.
There was a spring flowing down from the hill, channeled via a stone canal that carried springwater into the city center.
Laura stepped closer. “So like… Tolkien’s books?—”
“Not that far off.” Carys shook her head. “I’m starting to wonder if he’d been here.”
Lachlan asked, “Are you talking about the English professor?”
Carys turned to him. “Maybe?”
“Frequent visitor.” Lachlan took a deep breath. “Obsessed with languages, apparently. Gods, the air is so much better here.”
It was true. The air around them was sweet in a way that Carys had never smelled in her life. A delicate perfume wafted on the breeze, but nothing about the scent was false or chemical. It was herbaceous and refreshing.
The unicorn shifted to her true form and lifted her head in a high whinny, a call that was answered by a bright, echoing sound in the distance. Naida started walking after their escort, and Carys noticed that the ellyllon hadn’t said a word from the moment they stepped into the fae fort in Anglia.
Carys loosened her hand from Duncan’s and walked over to Naida.
“Sut wyt ti?” she asked in a soft voice.
The sound of Carys’s very rudimentary Welsh brought a fleeting smile to Naida’s face. “How am I?” She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m wishing I was home. But I can’t hide from him there either.”
“Yeah, I remember.” Naida had told her how Dru—when he was stillPrinceDiarmuid—had raised a barrow in the valley inCymru where Naida came from and parked himself for a decade until she agreed to let him court her. “Do you love him?”
“Yes,” Naida said simply. “Or maybe no. I love who he was. I don’t know who he is now.”
“You think he’s changed that much?”
“He has always hated the court, and now he is king of it. And a fae king does not die.” She glanced at Carys. “Especially one who is also the son of a god.”
“He could give up the crown someday.”
Naida nodded. “He could.”
“Or you could join him,” she said softly.
