Page 71 of First Light
Carys set her journal on the table. “So I’ve been making notes about everything and?—”
“Where’d you find that?” Duncan leaned forward. “That journal. Paper can be hard to come by here.”
Carys pointed to the wardrobe. “There was an empty journal in the back of the chest. It took me a minute to get the hang of the fountain pen at the writing desk, but I managed.”
“I forgot about Seren’s journals,” Duncan muttered. “I wonder if Lachlan has the rest.”
Carys’s curiosity was piqued. “Seren kept journals?”
“Meticulously.” Duncan sat back. “She was known for them. Wrote everything down, that one.”
“My dad was that way.” She mused. “He always had a notebook on him. Was always writing. My mother had her sketchbook, and my dad had his notebook.”
“And you?”
“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I’d rather have a book to read. I don’t need everything written down. If I don’t remember it, it probably wasn’t that important.” She squinted. “That may explain a good portion of my problems at work.”
Duncan smirked. “Seren recorded everything. She’d write down names of people she met, how the crops were looking, what the women wore to court banquets—there’s one tomorrow night, by the way. You can’t forget that one, because it’s the welcome dinner for Dafydd and Eamer.”
Carys smiled. “I’d say I’ll write it down, but I won’t.”
“Being aware of your negative traits doesn’t excuse them.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Bonnie will remind you; just don’t leave the castle.” He looked at the journal again. “What are you writing?”
“It sounds like I’m being a little like Seren, but only for organizational purposes.” She folded down a corner of the book. “There’s so many people and so much new information.”
“I was young when I learned all of it,” he said. “A sponge. It probably seems a bit overwhelming.”
“Seems? No, it’s very overwhelming. And I wish to hell I’d brought my old Celtic mythology textbook because I’ve been studying more American mythology the past five years, so I’m in way over my head.”
“I’m surethere are books in the library here, but they’re mostly going to be in Gaelic.”
“Not superhelpful.” Carys stared at the journal. “Mostly I’m trying to figure out who had a reason to kill Seren. And I’m thinking there’s a lot.”
Duncan sat up straight. “You’re trying to figure out who… Why would you do that?”
“Because I’m going to figure out who killed my sister,” Carys said. “Obviously. I already told Lachlan and?—”
“You told Lachlan about this, and he approved?” Duncan’s face was a storm. “That reckless bastard?—”
“He didn’t approve, but I don’t care.”
“Did you tell Cadell?” Duncan frowned. “Where is Cadell?”
“On the roof.” She pointed up. “He just curls up there like a cat, I think.”
Not at all like a cat, Nêrys.
She nodded. “He’s close.”
“This is ridiculous.” Duncan stood and started pacing. “Lachlan was right. You’re going back to the Brightlands. Tomorrow.”
“Absolutely not.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re not my boss, and neither is Lachlan.”
“I took responsibility for you when I brought you to this place. You have friends, Carys. People who love you and are going to be waiting for you. You need to think of them and not the ghost of a dead woman.”
Carys did think about Laura and Kiersten, but she also thought about Laura’s sisters. About Lachlan’s face when he talked about Seren. About Dafydd’s grief.
“I know there are dangers.” She uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. “And I understand why you and Lachlan want me to go.” She took a deep breath so she didn’t overreact. “I know you’re worried. But as you correctly pointed out earlier, I have adragon. Cadell and I have a unique opportunity to get justice for my sister.”