Page 147 of First Light
His voice was louder in her mind. A part of her suspected Cadell was right and she should make a break for the edge of the forest while she could still see the loch, but the other part of her reached out for the rowan trunk and felt its sap run up to greet her.
“I think it’s okay.” These trees knew her. Somehow they knew her. “There’s something familiar about this forest.”
It was planted over a hundred years ago. The oak you were touching was a gift of the Cymric queen.
“Maybe that’s the connection.” But why would an oak tree planted a hundred years ago by a Cymric queen show her a path in the forest? “Okay, I’m taking the rowan path now.”
The old fae planted rowan around their forts to guard against hostile magic.
“Then it looks like it’s leading me in the right direction.” She didn’t tell Cadell about the crow. The dragon would probably set the forest on fire and swoop down to grab her.
Carys walked between the rowan trees, going deeper and deeper into the forest. The crow flew before her, waiting on each branch for her to catch up before he continued flying up the path. After a few minutes, she couldn’t see the sky.
The paththrough the forest grew narrower, and the sky was blocked overhead, but nothing about the forest felt ominous. The ground beneath her boots was springy and soft, the stones layered with moss and dry leaves. Pine needles on the ground swallowed the sound of her footsteps as she approached something that looked like a great green wall.
It rose in the distance, a round hill of deep forest green dotted at regular intervals with craggy grey standing stones jutting from the mound.
“The fae fort.” She’d seen the path that led to it and the meadows on the other side, but from this direction she could see how vast it was. So large, in fact, she wondered why it wasn’t visible from the top of Tower Ridge.
“Cadell, why couldn’t I see this structure from the top of the hill?”
It sits in a fold of the landscape, hidden from Castle Sgàin. It was designed that way, but I can see it.
“Good.”
The rowan path led straight to the fort, and the damp air grew chilly as she approached. There was a rill flowing across the path, and she hopped across a pair of stones to stay on track.
Nêrys.Cadell’s voice was cloudy but still there.
“Hey.” Carys stopped and looked around. “I crossed a stream, and your voice is quieter.”
You have crossed over the old wards, but you are not hidden from me. Be careful.
“I will.” She walked to the left, following the path that led aroundthe base of the fort. She could hear someone speaking in the distance, and she noticed the birds had grown quiet.
“…not sure what you mean.”
“She knows something.”
“You’re wrong.”
“It’s obvious you…” The wind snatched the other words away. “…so it’s time.”
Aisling was in the meadow, but there was someone with her. Carys paused, debating whether she should leave and find Aisling another time, but as she turned, a branch cracked under her foot.
“Hello?” Aisling called out. “Who’s there?”
Carys kept walking, and as she rounded the fort, she could see Aisling in the meadow, standing by a wide-leafed dusty-grey plant and holding a bone knife in her hand. Carys looked around, but she didn’t see anyone with her.
“Hi.” Carys lifted her hand and waved. “It’s just me.”
“Carys?” As soon as she saw Carys, Aisling’s shoulders relaxed, and she put her bone knife in the basket. “What are you doing here?”
Carys wondered if she’d mistaken personal musing for conversation. “I was taking a walk. I… I realized that I hadn’t really said hello to the trees properly, and my mother would judge me if she knew.”
Aisling smiled. “Well, if you want to help me cut some mullein before the rain starts, I’d love the help.” She looked up. “I can tell the clouds are going to let go soon.”
“Sure.” Carys scanned the meadow as she walked closer, but she couldn’t see anyone. “What’s mullein?”