Page 155 of First Light

“What?” Aisling frowned.

“Her journals.” Regan pressed the bone knife to Carys’s neck. “Where are they?”

“They were in the library for years.” Carys smiled a little. “Right under your nose.”

Regan spun and stalked toward Aisling. “What have you been hiding from me?”

“I don’t know.” Aisling raised her hands. “You asked me for maps. I looked through everything. I gave you everything she had, and you said it was worthless.”

“They’re just sketches really.” Carys spoke softly. “They were in her journals all the time.”

Regan turned back to Carys and put the knife at her throat again. “You’re more clever than I gave you credit for. I thought you were a lovesick idiot like this one. Where are the journals? Never mind—they’ll be at the castle. I’ll find them.”

The knife pressed closer, and Carys felt her skin break open.

“They’re not there!” The pain nearly made her cry out, but Carys controlled it. “I hid them, and you won’t find them without me.” Tears fell from her eyes, but she forced her gaze to Regan’s. “But others will.”

The sting from Regan’s knife broke through the rest of the fog. Her legs felt light and quick again. Carys could feel her toes, her ankles, the pain from the bindings around her wrists.

“Tell me where.”

“And have you kill me? I’m not an idiot. Take me to the fae gate and I’ll tell you where to find them. I’ll go back to my world, and all of you here in the Shadowlands can go to hell for all I care. All I want is to go home.”

Was there any way that Regan would believe her?

The woman stepped back and lowered the knife. Then she lunged forward, the knife raised.

Carys couldn’t stop the flinch, but Regan halted inches from her face and laughed. Then she bent over, slid the knife between the bindings holding Carys’s legs to the chair, and sliced through them. She stared at Carys, her eyes narrowing. “What is that smell?”

“Probably onions.”

“At least you’re funnier than Seren.” Regan rose and motioned to Aisling. “Get her arms. She won’t hurtyou.” She kept her eyes on Carys as Aisling came over and sliced through the bonds holding Carys’s wrists behind her back.

Regan turned to the right, staring into the distance. “The dragon isn’t alone anymore. Others have come.”

Carys could feel the growing power. The fire was burning hotter. There was a magic surrounding them and the faint sound of feathers flapping in the darkness. She stretched her arms in front of her, and in the distance, she heard the faint call of a crow and Naida’s voice whispering in her memory.

You smell of the Crow Mother.

Only other fae will sense it.

…they will leave you alone.

No fae would harm you with Branwen’s mark on your skin.

“You should run.” She touched the slice on her neck as she rose and stretched her legs. “They’re coming for me right now. And you probably didn’t hear the news, but I struck a bargain with the Crow Mother.”

Regan’s eyes went wide. “What did you say?”

“I owe her a favor, so unless you want to piss her off, you’re not going to hurt me.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

Regan clearly couldn’t tell if Carys was telling the truth or not. The tension in her jaw told Carys that she was carefully considering the situation.

Dragon breaking though fae wards with unknown reinforcements with him.

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