Page 145 of First Light

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The sky was unnaturally dark for midday, awash in deep blue and moody purple. The forest loomed in front of her, beckoning with narrow paths that ran through the trees. She strode down from Tower Ridge, glimpsing the silver loch in the distance and arguing with Cadell as he flew overhead.

Let me put on my human body and come with you.

“She won’t talk if you’re there.” Carys knew it in her gut. “She’ll talk to me. I’m Seren’s Brightkin, but she won’t talk to you.”

I do not like this. The sky is ominous.

“The sky is…” She looked up. “There’s probably another storm coming and it’s dark because there’s no fucking sun in this place and I swear if I don’t see some actual sunlight soon, this pale skin is going to become translucent.” She started to stomp. “If you want to be helpful, just hang back up by the tower and wait for me. You’ll be close enough for me to call, right?”

There has not been a moment since I found you that I have not been close enough to call save for your reckless trek to see the fae sorceress.

“You call it reckless, I call it productive.” She patted the journal inher pocket. She’d left her bag in her room at the castle, but she wasn’t leaving Seren’s last journal unguarded. Luckily the tunic she was wearing had deep pockets sewn into the front. “Stay close and let me talk to her.”

You truly think that Seren’s plans to help Aisling escape marriage might have been the reason she was killed?

“Aisling has hopes and dreams and… talent. Seren saw that.” A quick skim of the last journal had made that clear. “There was no way that my sister was going to let her closest friend here get married off if she didn’t want it.”

Political marriages are the fate of the ruling class. Personal arrangements are usually respected because of it.

“What, like having a mistress on the side?” Carys scoffed. “That’s a risk men can take, not women.”

Here it is an option for both.

“So you say.”

Think for a moment. Women here have no risk of bearing a lover’s child. They can take any man or woman they want as a lover, and they do. Aisling has that option.

She’d never thought about that, but no risk of pregnancy in this world was probably the reason she saw female soldiers and so many diplomats even though much of the Shadowlands felt as if it was stuck in the past.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong.” Carys neared the edge of the forest. “I’m saying Aisling doesn’t want to get married.” She corrected herself. “Aisling doesn’t want to marry anyone but Lachlan, but that’s not an option. Seren knew that, and I think they had plans to fly away from here and someone found out.”

Who?

“Regan is the most likely.” Carys paused at the edge of the forest and looked up.

Regan was in Anglia. As much as I would like to blame her for Seren’s death, she couldn’t have killed her.

Cadell was gliding overhead, circling her and coming perilously closer with every circle.

“Please,” she whispered. “Let me talk to Aisling on my own. She needs a friend right now, not an inquisitor.”

Are you saying that I am not sympathetic?

“Your human form is the size of a garden shed, and I’ve never seen you smile.”

I smile.

“Is that what dragons call it when they breathe fire?”

He didn’t have a comeback for that.

“I’m going to the meadow by the old fae fort,” Carys said firmly. “That’s where her assistant said she was gathering herbs. It’s not occupied. There are no wards. If I need you, you can be with me in minutes.”

She’s more powerful than she appears, Nêrys. Be careful.

“Right now I think she’s feeling pretty powerless.” Carys turned to face the path. “She needs a friend, so just keep your distance.”