Page 138 of First Light
“He is always angry.” Naida stood. “Even Epona’s grace will not soothe him.”
“Epona?”
“I must go.” Naida stood, picked up her basket, and walked toward the oak. “Blessings of the day to you, Nêrys Ddraig.”
“But wait, what does Epona…” Carys walked around the oak tree to peer into the forest, but the small fae was gone. “Naida?”
The ellyllon had disappeared into the trees like a shadow melting into night.
“I just don’t see it.”Duncan had his feet up by the fire, his boots sitting on the hearth while he warmed his wet socks near the flames. “I don’t see Aisling capable of murder. Even if she loved Lachlan, I don’t see it.”
“Loves.” Carys stood and walked over to the fire to hold her hands near the flames. “Very much present tense. And as Naida reminded me, a heart will travel great distances for love.”
Duncan stared at the fire. “We both know that’s true.”
It was raining and the shadows of the night pushed at the shutters in Duncan’s cottage at the edge of the forest.
“Aisling loves Lachlan. I kind of think she’s loved him her whole life.”
“God, that’s miserable.” Duncan’s voice was thick with compassion. “Looking back, I can see it, but she’s always been such a quiet thing. A sweet heart in that one.” Duncan looked at her. “Itcan’tbe Aisling.”
“I agree with you.”
“Can you imagine? Growing up in the same court, always being there, loving someone and knowing they were in love with someone else?” Duncan looked away. “It’s miserable.”
Was it? Was Duncan talking about Aisling or something else?
Carys stepped away from the fireplace. “All that, and she can’t leave without causing an international incident. It’s awful.”
Duncan raised his voice a little. “She’s in love with your boyfriend, you know. Still pity her?”
“Boyfriend?” She cleared her throat and walked to the table. “Do we really want to call Lachlan…” She shook her head. “I’m not jealous of Aisling. I feel for her.”
“Och,” Duncan rumbled. “I hope you didn’t use that tone with her. Pity’s worse than hatred to a proud heart. And she does have a proud heart.”
Carys stared through the cracks in the window, but the rain didn’t seem to let up even a little. “Do you think Cadell can fly in all this?”
“God above, he’s a dragon, not a wee bird.” Duncan stood and walked over to join her at the table. “Stop fussing over the beast.”
“If he’s cold and uncomfortable, he’ll just be crankier when he gets here.”
Duncan picked up a red leather journal and started to pagethrough it. He turned to a page that Carys had already examined. “What’s this?”
Angus’s translation of the books only worked for Carys. “That’s Seren’s second-to-final journal, but the sketches are from a survey run she and Cadell did on the islands to the west. She has some notes about how many of them are inhabited. The current populations. That kind of thing.”
Duncan frowned. “I don’t recognize these.”
“Really?” She looked at where he was pointing. “Which ones?”
“The ones she’s highlighted in this sketch.” He angled the page toward Carys. “Look here. These are the Hebrides.” He pointed to the islands west of Alba but north of Éire. “But look down here. The ones she marked in red. There are islands south of the Hebrides that don’t exist on maps of Scotland. North of Éire but jumping east toward Alba.”
“Are these islands old? Maybe they weren’t eroded in this world but they were in ours.”
“But why highlight them?” Duncan raised an eyebrow. “What does it say?”
Carys read the tiny notes in the margins of the sketch. “Nothing much. Just notes on people and livestock, I think. Uh… ‘Forty houses. Fifteen flocks. Five herds.’ She was counting sheep and cattle, I think.”
“On islands that don’t exist on other maps.” He frowned. “Who could create land? And how?”