Page 139 of First Light
“The fae?” Carys took the journal. “They have elemental power, right? Maybe links with sea deities?”
“Or a very powerful mage.” Duncan lifted an eyebrow. “Humans can have powerful magic here. Don’t underestimate them.”
“Do you know a mage with that much power?”
Duncan shrugged. “I don’t, but I don’t know many mages at all.”
Carys thought about the one mage she knew. “Regan’s a mage.”
“Yes, and she has an alibi for when Seren was killed.”
“But what if she hired someone?” Carys lifted the red journal. “You’d do something that extreme if you were trying to keep a big secret hidden.”
“Okay.” Duncan nodded. “Is she capable? Of course she is. She’s a menace. But how could an assassin have gotten close enough to try? Seren would never let down her guard around someone she didn’t know.”
“I don’t know.” Carys deflated a little bit. “I’ll read through them again. Look for any mention of Regan’s name. Or anyone who was new to the castle.”
There was a quiet tapping at the door at odds with the fury of the storm outside. Carys turned to Duncan. “Expecting company?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Auld Mags isn’t bothered by the weather most times, but maybe there’s a leak in the shed.”
“You make your brownie live in the shed?”
“Shewantsto live in the shed.” Duncan scowled. “She has the run of the place when I’m not here. It’s hardly even my house.” He walked to the door and cracked it open. A lash of rain swept across the threshold and gusted damp leaves inside.
On the stoop there was a package wrapped in oiled cloth and bound with leather straps. Duncan picked it up.
“What is it?”
He picked a black feather from the leather bindings. “I think your fae bargain came through.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
She fell asleep in Duncan’s bed that night, the black leather journal that had been the last her sister wrote lying next to her pillow. She tossed and turned, her sleep fitful as the storm outside lashed the forest and rain beat on the heavy thatched roof.
In the middle of the night, there was a hand on her shoulder.
“Peace, Carys.”
The hand was warm and heavy, smelling of ash and oiled leather.
She stilled, and the low voice that sang to her lulled her into a deeper sleep.
Carys stoodon the edge of the forest, watching her mother.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Daddy says it’s dangerous.”
Tegan Morgan turned to look over her shoulder. “Your father isn’t like us, cariad.” She turned back to the forest where a doe with two small fawns slowly padded from between the trees. “The animals don’t know him like they know us.”
Carys stood frozen as the doe walked slowly toward her mother, who helda hand out to the creature and murmured something under her breath.
The deer turned toward Tegan, putting her snout into the woman’s waiting palm. The animal bent her head and gave her mother a not-so-gentle headbutt.
Carys walked closer as her mother petted the animal. The deer angled its head to spy her before it turned back to Tegan. All the while, the two spotted fawns waited near their mother on wobbly legs.
“See?” Her mother smiled and stroked the deer. “She doesn’t fear us.”
“Why not?”