Page 125 of First Light
“A Brightkin with magic.” Branwen leaned forward and sniffed. “You smell of more than just the sun and old giants.” She narrowed her eyes. “What a fascinating thing you are.”
You have the smell of the sun and the shadow at once.It was what Angus had told her, and Carys found it interesting that this powerful fae also perceived something different about her scent.
“I do love the smell of humans,” Branwen continued. “The older ones are too tough for my palate, but the young?” She smiled. “Delicious.”
Carys’s stomach turned, but she knew the fae was trying to get a reaction from her, trying to stoke her anger. “Your house is very comfortable.”
“How do you find your time in the Shadowlands? Is it very different?”
“Yes.” Carys looked out a small window, but there was nothing but grey fog visible through the milky glass. “I miss the sun.”
“The sun.” Branwen’s eyes glittered. “I would like to see the sun.”
Would you?It surprised Carys that the powerful fae hadn’t seen the sun before. Then again, maybe she’d never found a human to take her through a gate.
Carys brought the jar of honey from her pocket and placed it at Branwen’s feet. “I brought you a gift. I’m looking for something. You might know where it is.”
Branwen picked up the honey and eyed the fine white jar that Duncan had stolen from the kitchen. “Honey is a good gift. I am pleased.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
Branwen’s smile crept around the corners of her mouth. “You seek your sister’s murderer. I cannot tell you who it is.”
“And I wouldn’t ask you to,” Carys said. “My sister kept journals. One of them is missing.”
Branwen played ignorant. “What a pity. It might have been lost. Or destroyed.”
“It’s possible that it’s gone,” Carys said. “But someone told me you are skilled in finding lost things.”
Branwen leaned back and hummed in the back of her throat. “My crows find many things as they fly. Babies, rings, broken things.” She cocked her head. “If they were to find something that belonged to Seren, I would give it to you.”
“Why?”
“Because you are her sister.”
“And what would you want from me?”
“A simple exchange. Your service to me for a year and a day.” The woman reached over to the stew and stirred it. “A very reasonable trade.”
A year and a day could mean anything to the fae. A year in a fairy fort could be a thousand years in the human world. Even if Carys were willing to give up a year of her life, she knew not to take that offer.
“I don’t have that time to spare,” Carys said. “I’m trying to find my sister’s killer.”
“Pity.” The woman looked over at Carys from the corner of her eye. “Perhaps my crows have already found this thing you seek. It would be a shame to lose it when your sister’s killer is close.”
“Is he? Or she?”
The woman only smiled. “Your firstborn child then. Give it to me and I will hand over the one who poisoned your sister. You will have no need of a journal if the murderer’s head is delivered to you.”
Carys’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“I won’t eat the child,” Branwen explained. “If I wanted to eat a human child, I could just go to the gates. I would take good care of it. Like a pet. But I have need of a natural child born in the Brightlands, so I will take that in exchange.”
Carys blinked, pushing back the fog that seemed to gather around her. “Does anyone actually agree to a bargain like that?”
Branwen’s eyes shone. “Kings and queens have agreed to that bargain, Nêrys Ddraig. My gifts are a powerful lure.” She looked Carys up and down. “You’re young and healthy. Surely you could have many.”
“All the same, I can’t offer you a child.”