Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

C arys woke the next morning to a light knock at the door and a voice saying, "The fire, miss."

She wrapped the heavy wool blanket around herself and walked to the wooden door where she unbolted the bronze lock and cracked the door open.

On the threshold stood the woman from Duncan's office in Scone, wearing a brown dress and a neat apron.

Carys blinked. "Fiona?"

"No, miss." The woman frowned. "My name is Bonnie. Can I start the fire for you?"

"Oh right." She opened the door wider to allow the familiar and not-familiar woman into the room with her bucket of kindling and a lantern. It wasn't Fiona but her Shadowkin.

What were the odds?

"You said your name is Bonnie?"

"Yes, miss." The sturdy maid wasted no time cleaning the ash in the hearth, arranging the embers that were still burning, and adding wood to build the fire. "I'm the upstairs maid for the guest wing. You'll be seeing me every morning if you want a fire. "

The room was freezing cold, and the pearl-blue light of the shadow-dawn peeked through the heavy shutters covering the watery glass of the two windows in Carys's room.

After the maid fed the fire, she turned to Carys. "Do you need hot water this morning, miss?"

Carys was trying not to stare. "I took a bath last night, but I appreciate the offer."

The woman cut her eyes to Carys's hair, which was tangled from sleeping. She frowned a little. "I'll brush your hair for you." She motioned Carys to sit at the dressing table. "I'm not a lady's maid, but I don't think they've assigned one of the girls to you yet. Your hair is a fright."

Was she supposed to have someone help her get dressed? Did she need someone to help her get dressed?

"Sure, that's… It's kind of you to offer." Carys didn't know anything about how this worked, but she felt immediately comfortable with Fiona—Bonnie. Even though Bonnie didn't have Fiona's sweet smile, she came across as competent and forthright, which was exactly the kind of person she needed.

"Yes." Carys glanced at the large wardrobe in the corner, full of clothing she'd never worn before. She looked at the dressing table with an arrangement of brushes, ribbons, and bottles of gold oil. "I think I would really appreciate your help, but I don't want to hang you up here if you have other work to do." She pointed to the bucket of kindling and the lantern. "Do you have other rooms you need to cover?"

The woman's dark brown eyebrows went up. "That's thoughtful of you, miss, but I left you for last." The woman fisted both hands on her stout hips and looked Carys up and down. "I thought you might need help. I have the time if you need it."

The small act of kindness warmed her more than the fire. "I'm Carys." She held out her hand to shake.

The woman looked at it, and her eyebrows went up again. "Is that the way in the Brightlands? "

"Yes." Carys smiled, still holding her hand out. "We shake hands when we meet someone."

"My hands are dirty." She glanced at the bowl of water and the pitcher in the corner. "I don't suppose?—"

"Oh, go ahead."

Bonnie cocked her head and nodded a little bit. "That's fine of you."

Carys waited for the woman to wash her hands in the corner, and then Bonnie quickly opened the shutters, cracked the window open, and tossed the water out.

Carys made a mental note to walk well away from the castle walls in the mornings.

"There, that's better." Bonnie dried her hands on her apron. Then she held out her hand, took Carys's, and pumped it up and down. "I'm Bonnie. A pleasure to meet you, Lady Carys."

"Nice to meet you, Bonnie. I don't think I'm a lady though."

"You're Lady Seren's Brightkin, are you not?" Bonnie bustled over to the wardrobe and threw open the doors. "That would mean you're a lady here too. And you're sleeping in a lady's room, so I'll call you Lady Carys."

"Or just Carys is fine too."

Bonnie turned. "I've been told that there aren't lords and ladies and such in the Brightlands. Is that true?"

"There are in some places, but not where I'm from."

"But you're from Cymru, aren't you?"

Duncan was right. News traveled fast in this place. "It's called Wales in the Brightlands, and it doesn't really have a king either." Okay, that wasn't one hundred percent true. "I guess they do technically, but he's not as powerful as the rulers here."

"Oh." Bonnie nodded. "That's odd. They have a king but not a powerful one?"

"It's… complicated." Carys didn't know if she should be detailing the intricacies of a constitutional monarchy or the current political si tuation in the United Kingdom, so she turned her attention to the clothes in the wardrobe. "What do you think I should wear today?"

Bonnie scanned the clothing. "These are Lady Seren's old things—she was made a new wardrobe when she was married, but that's still stored in Lord Lachlan's quarters. These should all fit you." The maid opened a lower drawer. "What are your activities today?"

"I know Duncan said I'd have to ask formal permission if I want to stay in the castle, so?—"

"Formal clothes if you're going to see Lord Robb." She started pulling things from the wardrobe. "From what I hear, Lord Lachlan is insisting you stay in the castle, so I wouldn't worry." She pulled out a pair of grey wool pants. "Lady Seren preferred trousers to skirts. Are you the same?"

When she was hanging out at home, Carys loved a long, flowing skirt and a comfy tee, but that didn't seem wise within the chilly walls of the old castle.

Carys nodded. "Trousers would be great."

"Excellent." She tugged at a tunic in a bright red color. "She did prefer red and green."

"For Wales." Carys smiled.

"For Cymru." Bonnie nodded. "This is a lovely red color, but maybe too formal for today. Why don't we go with the green?"

Bonnie sounded much more knowledgeable about court protocol than Carys was, so she deferred to the older woman. "Sounds good."

She waited for Bonnie to set out the clothing on the bed, and then she yanked off the warm wool wrap, jumped into the tunic before she froze, then the pants—trousers—and watched carefully as Bonnie tied an elaborate knot in the gold-colored sash to give the tunic some shape.

"There you go." She eyed Carys's feet. "Let's get your feet covered so you don't catch a cold. Stockings and boots for you, I expect."

"Please tell me Seren had some spare shoes I can wear instead of Duncan's old boots. "

Bonnie's dimples reluctantly peeked out. "Without a doubt. Let's get your stockings on your feet so I can brush and braid that hair."

An hour after she'd woken and dressed, another knock came at the door. Carys opened it, expecting to see Bonnie's face again, but she froze when it was Lachlan.

She knew it was Lachlan from the length of his hair, though he'd grown a light beard in the time he'd been away from her.

"Good morning, Carys."

She stepped back, unsure of everything. The practicalities of the day had been taken care of. She was dressed in warm clothes, her hair was fixed and braided into a bun at the nape of her neck, and she had shoes that fit her.

She should have felt prepared to see him, but she wasn't.

He was still the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, and Carys had the urge to run to his arms, close her eyes, and beg him to tell her this had all been a horrible dream.

But Lachlan wasn't in Baywood anymore. He was standing in a castle, carrying a tray of something with steam coming from the top.

"Can I come in? I brought you tea and fruit," Lachlan said. "Well, apples and herbal tea. We don't have mangoes here. Or tea. Or coffee." He held up the tray and tried for a smile. "Not really grown in this climate. But there are apples."

It was the same thing he'd gotten in the habit of bringing her in the mornings at home. He'd wake early to watch the sunrise, then bring her coffee or tea in bed along with whatever fruit they'd bought at the market. Seeing him at her door like this felt familiar and sweet and… complicated.

She opened the door and allowed him in the room. "Thank you, Lachlan."

He walked over and set the tray on the table near the window, closing the shutters. "There's a draft. I'll have someone come up and seal it so you don't get cold."

She didn't know what to say. He was here, in her room, taking care of her just like he'd done back in California. One of the things she'd fallen in love with was his consideration. Lachlan was the most thoughtful man she'd ever met save for her own father.

He turned to her and stood waiting. "Will you sit with me?"

Dressed in Shadowlands clothes with his long hair flowing, he felt like a familiar stranger, and Carys battled between the urge to run to him and hang on for dear life and the urge to slap his face and scream at him.

She couldn't stop her heart from racing at the sound of his voice. She couldn't stop the bright leap of happiness at the sight of him. But all that was wrapped around hurt and confusion from the revelations the day before.

"Tea." She sat in the chair. "Sure."

Lachlan sat across from her. "How did you sleep? The bed was aired out, but it wasn't new. Do you need a new bed? It's not as comfortable as your bed at home, and I can get something new for?—"

"I don't need a new bed." She closed her eyes. Staying mad at him was proving to be difficult. "I slept well. I'm sore from all the riding, but they brought up so much hot water last night. All those stairs," she murmured.

"That's their job, and my father pays them very well, but I know having servants?—"

"It's fine." It wasn't fine. "Uh… my feet are feeling better." She stretched out her legs. "Better boots than Duncan's old ones."

"Yes, your clothes fit well."

Of course they do—they belonged to my dead twin sister who was your wife.

Anger.

Then sadness.

Her heart ached, but she picked up the steaming cup of tea and sniffed it. It smelled like honey and spice, not tea at all, but it was warm and delicious when she sipped it. The herbal concoction warmed her belly and settled her stomach. "Lachlan, I know I was angry yesterday, but surely you understand why?—"

"I love you, Carys, but I think you should go back home."

She blinked. "What?"

He seemed to force the words out. "Nothing has changed about my feelings," he said. "I love you. I could see myself happily spending the rest of my life with you, but circumstances here are complicated and I don't think it's safe for you. I can't be selfish and keep you here when?—"

"You're kicking me out?" She set the tea down. "Are you… Are you joking right now?"

He shook his head. "It's not safe for you here. Duncan is right. It would be better for you to go with him and?—"

"So is this Duncan's idea or yours?" Anger flared. "Your brother is the one who wouldn't tell me a damn thing about what happened to you and instead dragged me into a… an alternate dimension. It was all cryptic messages and mysterious motives and then I ended up walking through a fucking fairy murder forest to find you. And now I'm inconvenient, so you want me to go home?" Her voice rose on the last question. "Are you kidding right now?"

Lachlan put his "I'm-being-reasonable" face on, and Carys's anger flared again.

"It's the safest option for you," he said evenly. "I'm trying not to be selfish."

"Selfish?" She laughed. "You're trying not to be selfish? Now I know you're joking." She stood and started pacing near the fire. "Trying not to be selfish. That is rich ."

"How?" He scowled. "I never lied to you. I told you I'd lost my wife. I told you about Seren."

"You didn't tell me that your wife had my face!" She stopped and pointed to it. "Do you understand how weird that is, Lachlan? She was my twin ."

"I have a twin too, and we're completely different people. "

"Okay, you didn't tell me that you came from a secret, magical world. How is that not a lie?"

Lachlan stared at her. "Really, Carys? Be honest—you would have thought I was a lunatic."

"Maybe so, but at least I wouldn't have fallen in love with someone who disappeared into thin air." She resumed pacing around the room. "You had to know ." She blinked back tears. "You're a prince . You had to know that your father wouldn't just let you go."

Guilt passed over his face, but he didn't look away. "I didn't know they could find me. I didn't realize there was a gate so close to your house."

"What happened?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "It like… sucked you in or something?"

"No! Getting too close to the gate tripped some kind of… alarm, I suppose. They'd put a spell out to find me, and when I got too close to a gate, they knew where I was. And once my father knew where I was?—"

"Are you telling me your dad sent a… a fairy strike force to California to kidnap you?"

He muttered, "Fairy strike force may be the wrong mental picture, but there were around a dozen of them, yes."

"Did they forbid you from leaving me a note ? Did they forbid you from calling me once you got back to Edinburgh?" She frowned. "You brought your phone through a fae gate? I thought you couldn't do that."

"They took it, Carys. Then they smashed it." He took a deep breath. "There's no rule that says technology can't go through gates if fae carry them. They run the portals, not us."

"Thanks for clearing that up. I'll make a note."

"I know you're still angry."

"There had to have been a way to tell me. Something. Anything."

Lachlan stood and walked to her. "There wasn't time. They tracked me. They hunted me. And before I knew what was happening, they took me. They wanted to search your house, but I didn't want them to…" He blinked and clammed up.

She narrowed her eyes. "Didn't want them to what?"

"I didn't want them to know about you. I was worried they might hurt you. The fae who took me, they don't care about humans at all, especially mundane ones."

"Oh right ." She knew what he was saying, but using the word mundane still stung. "I'm not special enough for them to care about."

Of course she wasn't. She wasn't a princess. She wasn't Seren. If she didn't want to see her father's twin so much, she would have agreed with him and just gone home.

"I never said that, and I never would." He huffed out a breath. "Misunderstandings like this are the reason it would be better for you to go."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying until I see Seren's father."

Lachlan blinked. "That's why you want to stay?"

He tried to grab for her arm, but she shoved him to the side and walked out the door, storming down the corridor as she looked for the stairwell she'd walked up the night before.

"Carys, I know you miss your parents, but he's not the same man."

She held up a hand as she walked down the hall, flipping him off before she stomped down the stairs.

"That's very mature. Dafydd is not your father, Carys."

She didn't care about being mature, and she knew he wasn't her father.

Mostly she was furious that Lachlan was trying to act like the reasonable, protective boyfriend when he was a liar. She wanted fresh air and she wanted sunlight, but sunlight wasn't possible here, so she'd at least take the fresh air.

Carys reached the ground floor of the castle and saw the double doors that led out into the courtyard in front of her. Two guards were on either side.

"Lady Ser— Carys. We have instructions to keep you in the castle until Lord Robb?—"

"Castle." She nodded. "Fine. I'll stay in the courtyard , but if you try to keep me in this stone tower" —she could hear Lachlan's feet coming down the stairs after her— "I will scream bloody murder, do you understand me? I'm pissed off at him" —she pointed over her shoulder— "and I do not want to see him. Make sense?"

One guard looked down at her feet in confusion, but the other nodded. "Please stay in the courtyard, my lady. We can't protect you if you leave the castle walls."

"Fine." She didn't want to make their jobs harder, but she felt a definite punch of satisfaction when she pushed the wooden doors open and walked into the cool morning air.

The castle courtyard was far calmer than it had been the day before. Maybe yesterday had been a market day, but that morning the only people milling around appeared to be workers and a few of the children she'd seen before.

She gulped down the cold air and wrapped her cape around herself. Bonnie had insisted on fastening a cape to her tunic earlier, and Carys had thought it was just for show.

It was not. The air was freezing.

She stalked across the courtyard, heading for a green space where horses were grazing and it looked like there were some small apple trees that still had fruit hanging on them.

Apple trees like the ones behind Duncan's house.

Near the fairy murder forest.

In the magical alternate realm.

Where her father's twin was still living and her boyfriend was a prince.

Carys reached the grass and stopped, breathing in the heady smell of grass and fresh earth that reminded her, just a little, of home. She stood on the bare earth, her feet warm and comfortable in Seren's old boots, and felt the firm ground beneath her when every other thing felt tenuous and strange.

The squat man she'd seen yesterday was sitting on a stone bench under a nearby awning, smoking a thin wooden pipe and staring at her as he idly scratched his fuzzy pointed ears. He narrowed his eyes, staring at Carys until she looked away.

Judging by his ears, he was some type of fae, but Carys didn't know which. There were countless variations on fae mythology across the world, and she had no idea how much of what she'd read in books matched reality in this strange mirror world. There was no listing for the Shadowlands in the Oxford Companion to World Mythology .

Maybe Lachlan and Duncan were right. She'd made the impetuous decision the day before that she wanted to stay to see Seren's father, but maybe this was a bad idea. This place was a foreign country on a whole other level. What was she doing here?

She loved Lachlan, but she was mad as hell at him, and the kind, uncomplicated man she'd met in Baywood had ended up being someone entirely different. They'd only been together four months. Did it matter that they'd been four of the happiest months of her life?

Did she even know who he was?

"My lady, can I be of assistance?" A female guard walked over and stood at attention. "The castle guard are at your service."

Carys blinked and looked up. "Uh… no. Th—" God, she had to get out of that habit. The guard was human, but the way she was going, she could accidentally indebt herself to a random fae just by automatic California politeness. "I appreciate your offer, but no."

The guard seemed to hesitate, but then she blurted out, "I served under your sister."

The corner of Carys's mouth pulled up. "Really?"

The guard nodded. "Lady Seren was a magnificent warrior and a dead-accurate archer, my lady. Very admired by the castle guard."

Carys warmed to the stoic woman. "I never knew her. I wish I had."

"She was a great lady, mum." The guard nodded, then broke away, walking back to the group of guards who were gathered by a group of women hanging laundry.

No wonder Lachlan had loved her. Carys's sister had clearly been beloved by everyone in the castle. She was an admired warrior, a princess, a dragon lord .

How could Carys compete with that? She was a depressed assistant college professor with no family, a little house in the forest that needed a new roof, and questionable survival skills.

No matter what Lachlan said now, could she ever trust his feelings or her own?

She sat on a small bench under the apple trees and a horse wandered over, nudging her arm with his muzzle.

"Hello, horse." She'd always wanted one as a child, but her mother had always had an odd reaction to them, fascinated by the creatures but always keeping her distance. "Hey, boy." She glanced over. "Girl. Do you want an apple?"

Carys stood to pick an apple from the tree to feed the mare, only to turn when she felt a strange tug in her chest.

It was a warm sensation, not unlike the feeling of a campfire that had just caught. It crackled in her chest, turning her around as she looked to see what was causing it.

She couldn't describe it. It was… living.

"What's happening?" She looked at the horse, but the animal flared its nostrils and swiftly turned away. "Horse?"

She smelled a faint scent of smoke and tensed. Was a forest fire coming? Was the castle protected from a forest fire?

There was a burning in her chest and a churning sense of panic, but her feet felt rooted to the ground. She had the sneaking suspicion that she wouldn't be able to run even if she wanted to.

Carys rolled her shoulders back, but the sensation only grew stronger, the burning more intense. There was a distant sound in the air like the call of a hawk over a canyon.

Carys felt the wind pick up, the smell of smoke grew stronger, and she walked from under the trees, drawn to the distant cry. She looked up, searching for the sun, but it wasn't there. There were only the flat grey clouds that covered everything in this place, the dull morning light that cast the castle and the courtyard in watercolor shades .

Something was coming.

She felt a prickling awareness along her skin, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She felt an instinct, a perception she couldn't explain. She couldn't take her eyes from the sky.

The people milling around the courtyard started to murmur, and then a few shouts rose from the castle walls and the guards began to run.

People were frozen, looking up, but every animal that had been wandering through the courtyard from the horses to the chickens had scattered, fleeing to any awning or covered alcove they could find, huddling against the walls, utterly silent in the human melee.

Carys couldn't understand what the guards were saying, nor did she care. Something pulled her attention back to the sky. Her eyes were drawn to a thin line in the distance, a dark spot on the horizon. Her blood knew what was coming before her mind fixed it.

More shouts from the guards, then a word that was unmistakable.

"Dràgon!"

The beat of distant wings pulled her like a string plunged into her heart. She walked to the center of the courtyard, her eyes lifted to the sky as the worried murmurs of the people around her turned to cries. A woman yelled and a child ran past her, screaming for his father.

The wind grew wilder, whipping around her body, but she couldn't seem to move. Her gaze was fixed on the shape coming closer.

A deep voice whispered in her mind.

Nêrys .

Another hawk's cry, but this one grew from a screech into a thundering roar as the massive creature spread its wings, shadowing the courtyard as it circled overhead.

Shouts from the walls and soldiers yelling as they poured into the keep.

The creature let loose a stream of fire that heated the courtyard even from the clouds.

"No," she whispered. "You're scaring them. "

"Hold!" The guard who had spoken to her earlier was shouting at the archers on the walls. "Hold until we receive orders!"

The voice whispered in her mind again, a deep growl, gentle as distant thunder. Nêrys ddraig.

Carys shook her head and whispered into the wind. "Not Nêrys. My name is Carys."

With the force of a small hurricane, the dragon winged down in ever-smaller circles and landed in the middle of the courtyard, announcing its arrival with outstretched wings and a thunderous roar that shook the castle walls.

Carys stood motionless, looking up at the magnificent creature with pebbled green flesh that shone with an iridescent light. She could see the column of red fire glowing through the skin at the beast's throat when he raised his head.

Nêrys ddraig. He lowered his head. Seren.

"No." The ache was piercing because she could feel the longing from the dragon's burning heart. Tears fell down her cheeks as she looked up and met his eye. "I'm not Seren. I'm her twin. I'm so sorry I'm not her."

The dragon bent his head toward the ground, turning his brilliant gold eye on Carys and blinking slowly. Nêrys ddraig.

The whisper held an ache of longing and the shadow of grief.

Carys reached out, fearlessly running a hand over skin warmed by internal fire. "I'm not her, but I'm so sorry she's gone. I can feel how much you miss her."

A pained whisper. Nêrys .

"You're her dragon, aren't you?" Carys couldn't believe she was actually touching a dragon. She sniffed and blinked back tears, laughing a little in spite of everything. "You're so beautiful." She let out a shaky breath. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

The dragon was bigger than she could have ever imagined in her rational mind, but she knew him. In her soul, she felt the connection snap into place as her racing heart settled and beat in a slow and easy rhythm that matched his own.

There was no fear. No doubt.

She knew this creature like she knew herself.

I feel her in you, Nêrys.

"My name is Carys." She laid her head on the dragon's warm cheek. "But you can call me Nêrys if you want."