Chapter 3 #2
“Yes. Complicated.” Carys nodded. “Anyway, his father wasn’t very pleased about him leaving Alba, so he sent some fae to collect him, and he just… disappeared. No explanation. So I went looking for him.” She gestured toward Duncan. “And met his Brightkin.”
“I bet that took some explaining,” she murmured.
Duncan cleared his throat. “It was an interesting conversation.”
“So I crossed over the first time in Alba and found my ex in Sgain Castle, and when I was there, I met” —she gestured toward Cadell— “my dragon.”
“Your dragon?” Dr. Beck leaned farther forward. “Your dragon? As in—”
“Carys Morgan is Nêrys Ddraig,” Cadell said. “She is a dragon lord loyal to the throne of Cymru and niece of High Kind Dafydd. Her Shadowkin was Seren, my bonded human and the heir to the Cymric throne, who was killed by the fae daughter of Queen Orla. Now Carys is my lady.”
Luna Beck’s mouth was hanging open.
“Been a few years since you’ve crossed the gates?” Laura asked quietly.
“Over fifteen.”
Naida said, “In fairness, things usually don’t change all that much from one decade to the next. These past few years have been unusual.”
“So…” Dr. Beck pointed at Carys. “You’re a dragon lord? How? You are Brightkin.”
Carys opened her mouth, then closed it. “Ummm…”
Though she’d conversed freely with Luna Beck in the past and had probably thanked her for her help countless times, she was suddenly wary of the woman she now knew was fae.
“Oh my dear” —Dr. Beck perceived the problem immediately— “I don’t have any magic here. I surround myself with old books in old buildings precisely because I get as weak as your friend in this world. Even if I wanted to work magic on you—which I would not—I don’t have the power.”
“I’m sorry.” Carys felt a wave of embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have been—”
“No, no.” Luna waved a hand. “If you’ve been navigating the Shadowlands, I completely understand.”
“My mother was Shadowkin,” Carys said. “So technically Laura’s not the only one with a little something extra. Magic-wise.”
Dr. Beck was staring. “I really want to write this down, but that would not be appropriate or wise.”
“Why do you want to write it down?”
“In all my years, I have never heard of such a thing. And I study magic and myths.”
“So do I,” Carys said, “but can I tell you? The reality of the Shadowlands and the stories are not—”
“Oh, not at all the same!” Dr. Beck shook her head.
“Which is why I’m not sure how much this is going to help.
” She pulled out a folder. “Obviously there is no lending at the Bodleian, but I was able to locate the earliest manuscript we have on the Morrígan. Older stories tend to be a little more accurate. Less French influence and all that.” She slid the file over to Carys.
“I was able to acquire some scans of the manuscript, but they are in medieval Irish.”
“I can help with the translation,” Naida said.
Carys flipped open the folder and saw color scans of a manuscript in very poor condition. “It’s a partial manuscript?”
“Very partial. It’s eleventh century. Authorship unknown.
It’s still being restored and translated.
We only received it last year when Trinity passed on acquiring it.
They have the majority of medieval Irish sources obviously, but this is early and it does mention the Morrígan.
” Dr. Beck leaned forward. “Macha, to be exact. One of her aspects.”
“Yes,” Cadell said. “That is the one who was living in Gorne Wood until a few days ago.”
“Macha?” Dr. Beck asked. “The Morrígan is in the Brightlands?”
Carys nodded. “She’s the reason the barrow rose in Salisbury Plain. There was a battle there a few days ago, and Fomorian and fae blood was spilled.”
“Blood on Sarum,” she murmured. “That’s never a good thing. The Morrígan was bound by Epona’s daughters. She wasn’t supposed to be able to cross into the Brightlands.”
Every eye in the room turned to Carys.
“Yeah, that was…” She sighed. “That was my fault.”
Dr. Beck leaned closer and took a long sniff. “Now that I’m thinking of it, you smell of Epona.”
Carys blinked. “H-how?”
Luna Beck and Naida shared a glance, and both of them shrugged.
“You just do,” Naida said. “I noticed it immediately.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” Carys asked.
“Why would she?” Godrik spoke for the first time. “What would be the point?”
“I don’t know, maybe if I’d known that it was the job of Epona’s cult to keep the Morrígan in the Shadowlands, I wouldn’t have made a deal with the Crow Mother to get Seren’s journal!”
Everyone in the seminar room was silent.
Duncan grimaced. “That’s… a bit of a stretch, darling.”
“Okay, yes, but obviously…” Carys sighed. “I didn’t know that the aspect that I met—the Crow Mother—was a goddess. I thought she was a fae sorceress who wanted to see the Brightlands to look at the sun. And a fae sorceress—”
“Would lose her power here.” Dr. Beck nodded. “Of course. That makes sense, and you can only make decisions with the knowledge that you have, Dr. Morgan. You had no way of knowing she was a goddess. The Morrígan is known for her cunning. She’s a very old and shrewd divinity.”
“And you are a young and stupid human,” Godrik said. “It was not an even negotiation.”
Cadell nodded. “Ignorance is expected from humans.”
“Okay.” Carys lifted a hand. “That’s—”
“It’s true,” Naida added. “You can’t dwell on your foolish actions that have put the fae gates in danger. You didn’t intentionally put the magical barriers in jeopardy; you just didn’t know any better.”
“Hey!” Laura barked. “All the negativity is not helping, okay?” She turned to Dr. Beck. “The Morrígan was bound to the Shadowlands once, right? That means it can be done again.”
“Honestly, I do not know,” Luna said. “But though the Morrígan has never been defeated, per se, there is one hero in stories who thwarted her, and he was half-human.”
“See?” Laura spread her arms and looked around the room. “Humans do not suck. Humans can do things. Even against the gods.”
“He was also half-divine,” Luna added. “A demigod, if you will.”
Laura hissed, “Not helping, Luna.”
Duncan had reserved three rooms in a beautiful historic inn that overlooked the River Thames near the Folly Bridge. Carys was lying on the bed, staring at the plastered ceiling and listening to Duncan, who was speaking to his foreman at the smithy in Scone.
“No, that sounds workable,” Duncan said quietly. “When? Probably a couple of weeks at least. Not sure, but I’ll let you know. If there’s a project…”
Carys rolled over to look at him.
“No, that’s fine. I trust you, Valentin.” Duncan sat on the edge of the bed and reached out for Carys’s hand. “That’s why I put you in charge. Ignore Robby; he second-guesses me most of the time.”
Duncan folded her fingers in his massive, callused palm. “Yes, good.” He cleared his throat. “Good man, Val. Talk to you soon.” He ended the call and tossed his phone on the bedside table. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be sorry. This is one hundred percent not how I imagined my first trip to Oxford.”
“Eh.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “It’s not the worst. I had to visit a mate here when he was in university, and it was much worse being surrounded by a crowd of snobby public school lads with more money than sense.”
“Weren’t you a snobby public school lad?”
He put his hand over her mouth. “Hush.”
Carys laughed and pulled his fingers from her face, kissing his knuckles.
She hated the idea of facing all this without him, but she had to be honest. “Do you need to go home? You have gone above and beyond trying to fix my screw-up, and at this point—”
“Don’t be daft.” He stretched out next to her. “Besides, none of these magical tossers have any money. You don’t need to be paying for their room and board when you have a rich boyfriend.”
Carys groaned and pressed her face into Duncan’s chest. “I’m officially a freeloader. My father would be horrified.”
“No, he wouldn’t.” Duncan ran a hand over her hair. “You’re trying to right a mistake, Carys. And we’re making progress, aren’t we? None of us knew a fae was hiding in Oxford and teaching Celtic mythology, did we?”
“And somehow it’s just not that hard to believe.”
“No, it isn’t.”
She relaxed as Duncan stroked her hair. “I’ve written back and forth with her for years, but I never expected that.”
“Why would you?”
What had she done to deserve friends like Duncan and Laura who crossed oceans to stand with her?
I think that when you love someone—really love them—you’ll cross an ocean to find them again. Maybe even cross a world.
She looked up. “You really love me, don’t you?”
“Aye, I do.” His accent got thicker. “Even though that scaly arse is always following you around.”
“Don’t call my arse scaly. I just need some moisturizer.”
Duncan burst out laughing and hugged her tight. “You’re going to fix this. We’ll figure it out.”
“And if we don’t?”
“You can’t think that way.”
“No, but I have to.” She gripped the front of his shirt with her hands. “It helps. If I imagine the worst thing that can happen, take it in, and really process it, then I feel like I can tackle anything.”
Duncan grumbled, “That makes no sense to me.”
“For the longest time, the worst thing I could imagine was losing my parents and being completely alone.” She blinked hard to battle the tears that wanted to come out.
“But then it happened. I lost my parents, and I was completely alone. So the worst thing that could happen happened. And I survived. See what I mean?”
“No, that’s not the way of it though, darling.
Because yes, you lost your mum and dad, but you’re not alone, Carys.
” He kissed the top of her head. “You’re never going to be alone.
I promise you. Laura and Kiersten were with you.
And now you have Cadell. And better than that fire-breathing numpty, you have me, don’t you? ”
She wanted to kiss him, but she needed to make a point. “What happens if we don’t stop the Morrígan?”
“Then this world—our world—discovers that magic is real, and an ancient goddess of war creates a cult of neo-pagan acolytes to do her bidding, only instead of spears and swords, this generation has bombs and drones.”
Carys took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, that sounds like a really bad outcome, and I don’t feel better.”
“I’m not a fan of this coping mechanism.” Duncan reached down, grabbed her knee, and hiked her leg over his thigh. “Know what coping mechanism I do approve of?”
She put her arm around his neck. “What’s that?”
“Making you come so hard that you pass out for around eight hours.”
“That sounds good.” Carys scooted up and kissed him. “Let’s try that one.”