Page 99 of First Light

“Auld Mags wouldn’t argue with you.” He left the cart on the side of the cottage after unharnessing the horse, then lifted the crate full of Seren’s journals into his arms. “Call your dragon and come inside. We have some reading to do.”

Cadell setdown another leather-bound volume and folded his massive hands in his lap. “This is also routine information that says nothing about why she was killed.”

“The problem is that what we might think of as routine information could be the thing that got her killed,” Carys said. “I can’t explain it; I just have to read them.” She sat back at Duncan’s wooden table and huffed out a breath. “Which I can’t do because they’re in Welsh. Cymric. It’s the same language, and I speak none of it anymore.”

“I can organize them for you,” Cadell said. “Put them in the order they were written. They start when she was very young, but she became more regular, writing in them when she returned to Caernarfon for training.”

“That would be great. Thanks. But I will still need you to read them.”

Cadell leaned forward and held up a small book bound in purple leather. “Do you truly believe that these journals are vital to discovering Seren’s murderer?”

“I don’t know for sure.” She sighed. “But I think they’re the best place to start.”

Cadell looked grumpy.

“What doyouwant to do? Pick people at random, hang them by their toes, and torture them until they confess?”

“Seems like a better place to start than Seren’s diary,” Duncan muttered.

Cadell said, “I agree with the cross human.”

“We’re not torturing people!” Carys looked through another journal. “Yet.” Her eyes were crossing as she tried to remember words she hadn’t read in twenty years. “Okay, I’m useless with these.”

Cadell looked over at Duncan, who was poking at the wood in the hearth. “We should ask your úruisg to translate them.”

Duncan frowned. “What would Angus have to do with any of that?”

“Úruisg wield powerful magic. Old magic. Even older than dragons.” Cadell pursed his lips. “Humans have such small minds.”

“Dragon, I’ve never in my life heard of any úruisg having a gift for languages. The unicorns maybe, but?—”

“Wait, what’s a…” Carys frowned. “Oo-rishk? I’ve never heard that name before.”

“Úruisg is the Alban name,” Cadell said. “You might know it by another.”

“Eh.” Duncan shrugged. “They’re not as common in tales as kelpies or unicorns. Not even by half. Most books would probably group them in with brownies or dobbies because they’re household spirits. But they’re not the same.”

Carys’s curiosity was piqued. “How are they different?”

“In the Shadowlands, a brownie tends to attach to a place.” He nodded toward the chimney. “Auld Mags was here before I was. The cottage is more hers than mine in a way.”

“And úruisgs?”

“Again, I don’t know what it says in books, but in the Shadowlands, they attach to families. The older the family, the more likely they have an úruisg.”

“But it’s a kind of fae?”

“No,” Cadell said.

“Yes,” Duncan said. “As I actually know an úruisg, please ignore the dragon.”

“The úruisg are very old magical creatures,” Cadell said. “Who can be very wild and very solitary, but if treated with respect, they are extremely loyal to their families.”

“They’re also proud,” Duncan muttered. “Opinionated as fuck. Good workers though.”

“Angus is extremely loyal to Duncan, though I’ve never understood why. The Albans think they are native to this land, but they are not.” Cadell looked at Duncan. “And they are not fae. Head and torso of a human, legs of a goat. Who does that remind you of?”

Duncan shrugged. “Angus.”

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