Page 172 of First Light

“The humans of the Shadowlands are suspicious by nature, and in their eyes, you caused a battle to nearly break out with the unicorns, the fae have been angered by Regan’s destruction of the old fort, and Aisling—the healer who took care of the village—is dead.”

“None of that is my fault though.” She kept her voice low and kept her head down. The last thing she needed was a rotten apple thrown in her direction. Cadell would react and someone would get crispy.

“Things were less exciting before you arrived.” He shrugged. “They will forget eventually.”

“Right.”

The baker and his wife eyed her with frowns before they walked back inside and shut the door soundly.

Carys tried not to whine. She really had loved their scones.

A trading cart with southern colors rumbled past them, the air behind it thick with the scent of spices and southern warmth. Behind the cart rode a couple mounted on horses who nodded as they passed.

“What is Anglia like?”

“We can visit on another trip,” Cadell said. “It is lively and much more diverse than Alba. People from the continent brave the crossing with some regularity now since the Frisians have developed spells to repel the leviathan.”

“Leviathans.” She nodded. “Right.”

“The creatures avoid the channel now” —he nodded at another tall man who passed them— “and generally keep to the northern seas.”

Carys waited until they were out of the village before she asked, “Was that big guy you nodded at another dragon?”

“No, he was obviously a wolf.” Cadell looked down and sighed. “You have much to learn.”

She forced a smile. “Looking forward to it?”

Carys carried a small backpack with a few mementos of her time in the Shadowlands. Her gold dragon brooch from Dafydd, the gold mirror from Eamer, a beautiful bound journal from Lachlan, and a unicorn embroidery from Elanor.

She looked at Cadell walking beside her in his leather armor. He carried one single thing—a letter from Dafydd they were going to have to show his contact in Scotland when they crossed over.

“Can you wear normal clothes?”

“If you mean Brightlands clothing, I can if I have to.”

“Are you sure this guy is going to come through with papers and stuff? I mean, I’m sure you can stay at Duncan’s house, but I don’t want to be stuck there for weeks if I can avoid it.”

“It will be fine, Nêrys. You worry too much.”

“You should try using my name more. My friends will think it’s weird.”

“Tell them it’s an affectionate nickname.” Cadell glared at her. “Nêrys.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “So affectionate.”

“Your uncle has already sent emissaries to the Chahta nation, who are the closest geographic dragon nation to your home. He will coordinate your education with their permission.”

“Great.” She shook her head. “Can’t wait.”

“I am hoping to see a thunderbird.” The corner of his mouth inched up. “Mared has seen them, and the rumors of their power are intimidating.”

“You’re actually excited about this, aren’t you?”

He looked down at Carys, then returned his eyes forward. “Briton is cold.”

“Okay, so not a fan of cold weather.” She grimaced. “I have unfortunate news about Northern California, my friend.”

“I am adaptable.” He veered to the left and paused. “You should wait here.”

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