Chapter 11 #2
Frida touched Godrik’s arm. “Wolf, open the gate to the river.”
Godrik walked to the gate, and with Duncan’s help, they easily opened the doors.
Sam didn’t move.
Without a word to any of them, Frida walked down the edge of the water and waded into the long grass. The moment her feet touched the river, she grew taller and her hair grew longer, longer, longer until the waves touched the grass and her hair drifted as one with the rushes.
The water sprites danced around her, and the current stilled.
When Frida opened her mouth, gone was the blunt and practical human woman they had met the day before. Her song was like water rippling over rocks, and as the music rose, the water pulled the sea serpent back and into the flowing depths of the river.
Frida walked to the great beast, her godly form twice as tall as the creature, and ran her hand over its rippling skin. Not scales like a fish, but much closer to the soft, pebbled skin of Cadell in his natural form.
When the glowing water sprites landed on the serpent, his skin seemed to come alive with a pearly grey light.
Then Frida sang a different song, and it was as if the music was a rhyme that Carys had always known, a song her mother sang to her in her cradle, a song her father caroled as he returned from the hunt. It was a marching rhythm, and the melody was as familiar as her own voice.
Though Carys had no idea what language the demigoddess sang in, the words formed in her mind as if Frida sang directly into her ear.
A single choice shows the path you must follow.
Over the hill and down in a hollow.
Gather an offering of milk and clay
Cross the bridge and
Wait for the shepherd
And when the birds sing the light will array.
One choice is waiting to show you the way.
Sam drifted into the center of the river, and Frida walked with him. She climbed on the great serpent’s back, wrapped her arms around his body, and without another word, they slipped beneath the surface of the water.
Naida let out a relieved sigh. “He is so happy to be going home.”
Cadell nodded. “His mind is still tormented by the goddess, but Wada’s daughter can heal him.”
“Will she be able to guide him back to the gate?” Lachlan looked at Duncan. “I need to find a fae gate and get word to the other side. Dru’s people need to pay more attention to any portals open underwater.”
Duncan nodded. “He’s probably not even thinking about sea gates, but they’re there.”
“He’s the son of the sea god,” Naida said. “He can set the mermen and the other water fae to strengthen the gates. They have always listened to him above anyone else.”
Wade appeared next to Cadell. “The wyrm will be fine.” He stared at Carys. “Did you get the message, girl?”
Every eye turned toward Carys.
“What message?” Duncan asked. “Was she singing words? All I heard was a melody.”
“Yeah.” Carys nodded. “I heard.”
“But did you understand?” Wade asked.
Carys nodded. “One choice.”
The sea god smiled. “Good. So you did understand.” He started walking away. “You know where to go.”
Cadell walked to her. “One choice?”
Frida had repeated the phrase. It couldn’t be a coincidence. “One choice will show me the way.” She started walking back to the van. She wanted a bath, a bed, and a hamburger, but she’d settle for two of the three.
“One choice is what?” Cadell shouted.
She turned. “Ask the Scotsmen.”
Carys kept walking, but she heard Lachlan groan.
Cadell was silent for a moment, then said, “Ah! Of course. After all, he was never a fae.”
Laura ran to catch up with her. “Okay, everyone knows what’s happening except me, and that’s not right.”
“The gods like riddles. One choice.” She glanced at Laura. “It’s not an idea—it’s a name. It’s a famous name in Scotland actually. Lots of famous kings and chiefs loved it. Aonghas. One. Choice. A play on words.”
“Aonghas?” It took Laura only a second to get it. “Let me guess—”
“Fucking Angus?” Duncan shouted. “Absolutely not.”
“Are you kidding me, Carys?” Duncan was not pleased.
He had obtained rooms for all of them at a very decadent hotel that looked a little bit like a castle in the middle of York’s Minster quarter.
It was fancy enough that when he told the front desk that his girlfriend wanted a hamburger and chips, the concierge just nodded and said, “Right away, Mr. Murray.”
Now Carys was staring into the en suite fireplace with a full stomach and drooping eyes. “Was the tub in the bathroom copper? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a copper tub before.” She was about five minutes away from falling face down on the fluffy, down-filled duvet.
“What does a copper tub have to do with going all the way back to Alba so you can get the damned ùruisg involved in all this…” He waved his hands. “I don’t even know what to call this.”
He was staring at the television where the early-morning news had already picked up the story about some kind of unexplained disaster in Yorkshire along the River Ouse.
Unfortunately, a teenager from Barlby had watched his golden retriever get eaten by a giant snake, and instead of fainting straightaway, he’d taken out his drone and sent it after the monster who had eaten his dog, posting the footage on social media as soon as he saw it.
While the internet couldn’t seem to agree if the video was genuine or fake, Carys would recognize Sam the Sea Serpent anywhere.
The video was fuzzy, but the on-air presenters were clearly having a hard time avoiding the phrase “river monster” while trying to explain what had caused all the destruction.
“At this point I feel like you could probably call it a quest.” Carys stared at the drone footage and turned the volume up on the television as Duncan came to sit next to her on the end of the bed. “I just don’t know why you’re so upset about getting Angus involved.”
Someone in the control room at the local news station clearly wasn’t buying the excuses the presenters were trying to make, because every time someone mentioned flooding, they cut to the unmistakable drone footage of a giant snake as long as two school buses.
“Of course it’s impossible to avoid all speculation,” the female presenter was saying in a very calm voice, “with the continued and unexplained occurrence of the… very large earthen berm in Salisbury.”
“I believe it’s a fairy fort,” the male presenter said. “Or at least that’s what the current theory is among the neo-pagan community in Britain.”
The early-morning traffic reporter was clearly having fun with it. “Better watch for kelpies if you’re taking a walk along the river.”
“At least this gives the boys in Leeds some kind of excuse for that devastating defeat last night,” the sports reporter said. “Just blame it on the fairies, John.”
The male presenter and Traffic Guy laughed, but the woman at the desk didn’t look amused.
Someone decided to play the drone footage again.
Carys grabbed the remote and turned off the television. She needed to figure out why Duncan was so upset. “Okay, why are you mad about getting help from Angus?”
“Because he’s Angus,” Duncan said. “And he’ll make you pay for it. Somehow he’ll make you pay. Angus never does anything for free.”
Favors and obligations were practically their own currency in the Shadowlands, so Carys couldn’t be surprised. “How long has Angus worked with you, smithing in Sgain?”
Duncan shrugged. “Around fifteen years.”
“And how much do you pay him for helping you at your forge?” It was probably a bucket of milk every week and a goose at Christmas.
Midwinter. Yule. Imbolc. Whatever their winter festival was.
“How much do I pay Angus?” Duncan crossed his arms over his chest. “Two hundred gold sovereigns a year.”
Carys blinked. “Wait, really?”
“Did you think the old bastard worked for free?”
Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was. “You pay Angus in gold sovereigns?”
“You think he’d take pound notes?”
Obviously not. “Okay, but you’re still his favorite. I remember Lachlan’s father saying that you’re his favorite.” King Robb might not have said that Duncan was Angus’s favorite out loud, but it was definitely implied.
“Sure I am!” Duncan snorted. “Do you see Robb and Lachlan paying the old bastard in gold coin?”
Okay, that was fair. But Carys had a feeling that Angus didn’t really work because he was hard up for money. The magical creature wasn’t a fae. Not really. He might be a demigod of some kind, but he was ornery, opinionated, and tremendously powerful.
“If Cadell is right and Angus is some kind of demigod related to Pan, asking him to serve as a guide during this…”
“You just said we should call it a quest.”
“I have to get rid of the Morrígan. Or at least make her go back to the Shadowlands, right?” Carys shifted and angled herself toward Duncan. “Angus is powerful, he’s magical, and according to Cadell, he is really, really old. Maybe even older than the Morrígan.”
“Carys—”
“He has a fondness for you.” She took his hands, leaned forward, and kissed Duncan softly on his grumpy, pouting mouth. “And you love me, right?”
Duncan’s voice was rough. “I love you like mad, woman.” He wrapped his hand around her wrist where a red welt from the grindylows still lingered.
He brought her arm up to his lips and kissed the angry wound.
“I love you so much I want to take you back to California and forget all this is happening.”
“And let more golden retrievers get eaten?” She glanced at her arm.
“Imagine it wasn’t you and me and Lachlan in the water.
Imagine a little kid fell in.” She shook her head.
“Dru may be guarding the gates, but things are still creeping across, Duncan. They’re drawn to her magic.
I have to do something before anyone else gets hurt, and if Wade says Angus is the one who can help me, I’ll figure out how to buy some gold sovereigns even if that means selling my house. ”
“Fuck that.” Duncan wrapped his arm around Carys and sighed. “You’re not selling your house. We’re going back to Alba, and if that old bastard doesn’t offer to help you, I’ll sic Auld Mags on him.”