“Tapadh leat.” The old man winked at her.
“I don’t know what that means.” She kept smiling and nodded a little bit.
“Thank you,” the man said carefully. “Tapadh leat.”
If the old man was saying thank you to her, it was probably safe to respond the same way, and all the manners Carys’s father had drilled into her demanded she show gratitude. Taking a chance, Carys mustered up the memory of the rudimentary Welsh her mother had taught her. “Diolch yn fawr.”
“Ah!” The man’s bushy grew eyebrows went up. “Cymru?”
Carys put her hand over her heart, feeling a swell of warmth. “Yes. I’m… Cymru.”
“Good.” The old man gave her a thumbs-up. “Good.”
Carys waved goodbye, then started down the lane in the direction the old man had indicated. She walked for a few minutes, then saw alarge oak tree growing in the middle of the road with ribbons hanging from the lower branches, pennies pushed into the trunk, and offerings of flowers, cakes, and milk left in bowls nestled among the gnarled, mossy roots. Just beyond the tree was a pathway that jumped over a stone wall and led into a stand of trees.
Carys didn’t recognize the oak tree from her morning walk with Duncan, but maybe she’d taken a wrong turn. She didn’t clearly remember all the paths that Duncan had taken this morning, but she did remember that his house was on the edge of a forest. The old man had seemed very certain that Duncan’s house was right by the tree. Maybe this was the back way to his cottage.
She walked into the forest, wary of the dense trees that reminded her too much of the fae forest where she and Duncan had entered the Shadowlands, but there was none of the whispering voices or darkness that she remembered.
Though it was shadowed and dense, the oaks and ashes looked like an ordinary forest. Dotted among the hardwood trees were taller pines, first sparse, then growing thicker the farther she walked down the path. There was no bright sun casting shadows above the canopy, and the forest floor was littered with unfamiliar leaves, but the trees felt peaceful and birdsong filled the air.
The path through the forest was wide and even, indicating to Carys that this was a well-used path. There were occasional signs along the path that she couldn’t read with arrows pointing off in some directions.
It felt a little like a city park. Carys reached out and ran her fingers along the trunk of a pine, and immediately a whisper came to her through the trees that made her freeze.
There were words on the wind, songs she couldn’t understand that reminded her of some faint childhood memory of sand and sea and her mother singing to the cedar trees.
She lifted her hand from the tree trunk and looked up to see a black crow peering down at her.
“Caw!” The bird looked at her with a shining black eye, thenhopped down the branch a little. “Caw!” It looked again, then flew away.
She felt a tug in her chest, urging her to follow the bird. She craned her head around a gnarled oak tree and peered down a narrow, winding path leading toward a darker part of the forest. The trees grew taller there. They were dense and wild, overgrown with moss and dotted with bright red hawthorn berries. She felt it again, a tugging instinct in her belly.
She forgot the pain in her swollen feet, and the taste of ripe berries touched her tongue.
Something was there. Was it the path to Duncan’s cottage?
She heard whispers as she stepped onto the path; the crow looked at her, then flew a little farther. From the corner of her eye, light danced in the distance and Carys froze.
Don’t follow the lights, my Carys. They want to lead you away from me.
Her mother’s voice whispered in her mind, and she stepped back onto the wide forest path. No. This wasn’t the time or the place to explore.
As Carys stepped back onto the path, she thought she heard the faint sound of laughter coming through the trees, but she turned her face and started walking again.
Back to the cottage.
Through the fae gate.
Back to the normal world.
Fly home to Baywood as soon as possible.
Try to forget Lachlan Murray ever existed.
The last thought left an ache in her chest.
How was she supposed to forget the man who’d made her feel alive? How was she supposed to stop loving Lachlan when her heart told her it didn’t care if he loved Seren first? Did it matter? Maybe she could live with knowing she was second best.