Page 94 of Broken Veil
After the third accident in a few miles, Carys sat up straight and opened her eyes. “What the heck is going on in this town?”
Jack’s smile had fallen. “She loves a good fight, that Macha.”
“Why provoke humans to violence?” Naida asked in a small voice. “What purpose does it serve?”
“She feeds on it,” Jack said. “You’d never understand, dear one. Your people fled from the Brightlands epochs ago to avoid this.”
“Fae can be violent too,” Lachlan said.
“Yes, but it’s a different, quiet sort of war they have perfected,” Jack murmured, watching another two cars collide and pull to the side of the motorway. “They sneak, they don’t shout their intentions for anyone to hear them.” Jack sat back in his seat. “Jibril will know what’s going on.”
“Jibril is the druid we’re going to visit?” Carys asked.
“Jibril is many things, but you can call him a druid,” Jack said. “His bees will have told him everything that’s happening in this part of Briton.”
“Bees are the worst gossips,” Angus concurred. “If you need to know the news, always ask the bees.”
Eventually the city turned to country again, the roads grew narrower, and buildings gave way to trees, orchards, and a distant dark forest that appeared as old and venerable as Sherwood.
“The Wyre is an old wood,” Jack said. “But we’re going to the village on the edge of it where Jibril lives. He doesn’t like to live alone.”
The sun was slanting, casting afternoon light from behind the trees as they turned onto a narrow lane where neat cottages lined a small road and a few grey-haired neighbors chatted in front gardens.
“That house.” Jack pointed ahead. “That’s his place.” The old god looked around, shaking his head. “Never understood why he wants to live in such a busy place, but there you go.”
“Busy place?” Laura shook her head. “You remind me of my grandmother. If there’s not at least five acres around her, she feels like she’s living in someone’s backyard.”
“She’s exactly right,” Jack said. “Wise woman.”
Duncan pulled the van in front of a beautiful little thatch-roofed cottage with a bright blue door. The door had a moon-shaped window cut into it, and there was an abundant vegetable garden in front of the house within a border of apple trees.
The moment they parked, the door opened and a slim man with long dark hair walked out. His hair and beard were longer than Jack’s, his clothing was immaculate white—a beekeeper’s jumpsuit—and his face gleamed in the sunlight.
His entire bearing was radiant and warm. Carys wondered what kind of god he was if he worked with bees.
Almost all folk traditions had unique mythology about bees, dating back to the ancient Egyptians, who were the first to build hives to collect honey. The San people of the Kalahari had creation myths about bees, and the Greeks believed they could move between worlds.
“Jack Green.” Jibril walked over and shook Jack’s hand. “My bees told me you were coming today.”
Jack glanced at Carys. “Did they tell you I was bringing a hero in need of help?”
The slim man frowned. “They told me you were bringing a hero, but I assumed that she was here about my bees.”
Carys looked at Cadell, who looked as confused as she was. “Your bees?”
“Yes,” Jibril said. “Something in the forest is bothering my hives.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Do you know that bees are not limited to the boundaries between worlds?” Jibril asked as he and Carys walked down the lane. “That makes them the perfect messengers.”
The beekeeper had changed from his white coveralls, but his new clothing, a pair of loose white pants and a cream-colored shirt that buttoned up the front, was no less radiant.
“What are the bees telling you about the Shadowlands right now?” Carys carried a basket of honey jars and freshly made bread in brown paper bags. “If the Brightlands are getting more magical, are the Shadowlands getting less?”
“Hardly.” He smiled. “There are many whispers and rumors. One of the old gods has returned to the Brightlands, and power may be shifting from the fae.”
“Would that be a bad thing? In my experience, the fae tend to look out for themselves and aren’t really worried about anyone else.”
