Awakenings

Thom sucked in a quiet breath and forced a smile.  “Well.  Guess I’d better round up the rest and get to hunting.”

“Hunting what?”  Phelan’s voice asked.

“Phelan.”  Thom grinned as he turned.  “Just the man I was looking for.  And you’ve brought Thordin along, too.  Excellent.  We’re going hunting.”

Phelan’s brows knit even as Thom’s view of him was momentarily eclipsed by Marin, who came to him and slid her arms around Thom’s waist.  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her close.

“What’s the matter?” he murmured quietly.

“Absolutely nothing,” she lied, resting her forehead against his cheek.  “Nothing that can’t wait until later to talk about, anyway.”

His stomach gave an uncomfortable somersault, but he nodded anyway and glanced at Phelan.  “Deer.”

“Deer,” Phelan echoed, expression deadpan.  “Why are we hunting deer?”

“Because you want me to cook some kind of feast every night for the next five nights,” Tala said from behind Thom.  “And I need meat for that.  Venison will do the trick nicely and I’m more than sure at least one of you boys knows how to tan a hide, too.”  She grinned over her shoulder at them before she turned back toward the fire.  “I’m sure we can use that, too.”

Phelan made a face, glancing at Thom.  “You haven’t forgotten that I almost died this morning, right?”

“Of course not,” Thom said, ignoring the sick feeling twisting in his stomach.  “But you’re still alive and probably not about to drop dead in the next few hours, so we’re going to take advantage of that fact and go bring down a deer or two for dinner.”

“Make it three if you can,” Tala said, still grinning.  “I can salt some of it and smoke some of it.”

“Three deer,” Thordin said, boggling at her.  “You’ve got a great deal of faith in us, don’t you?”

“You guys haven’t let me down yet.”  She looked toward Marin.  “You want to go with them, or are you going to stay here with me and help me bake crap?”

Marin’s arms tightened around Thom for a moment and he let himself hope that she’d come along for just those few heartbeats until her arms loosened and she stepped away.  “I’m thinking I should stay and help you bake,” she said, a note of reluctance in her voice.  “If I go out with them, I’d just get in the way.”

Bullshit.  You’re better with a bow than I am, that’s for sure.  Thom glanced toward Thordin and Phelan and shook his head slightly.  Phelan smild weakly.

“I don’t think that’s necessarily true, leannán, but if you don’t want to tag along, I’m not going to argue and neither are these two.”  He glanced toward Tala, then toward J.T.  “Don’t let Jacqueline start worrying herself over where I’ve gone.”

“I’ll tell her we threw you in the ravine,” J.T. said as he sat down near the fire, stretching.  “If I manage to keep a straight face, she might actually believe me.”

Matt grinned.  “I’ll keep them in line, Phelan.”  His gaze drifted toward Thom, settling on him for a minute or two.  “Be careful down there,” he said quietly.

Thom met his gaze and nodded slowly.  “Of course.  Always.”  He paused, then said, “Do you think that you and J.T. could help Marin with decorating and…things like that?”

A grin blossomed on his face.  “You bet.  Maybe even wrangle up some little presents here and there if we’re lucky.”

“Pass the word,” Thom said, matching his smile.  “It’s the season for it, and we’re going to celebrate the fact that we’re still here to be a light in the darkness of the world.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Phelan smile.

“Aptly put, fear fiach.  I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Her breath was raspy, soft in the night as he held her cradled against his side, staring up through a canopy of trees at a thousand stars above them, more than he’d ever seen in all the years before the meteorfall killed the world they’d known.  Dread coiled slowly in his belly as he stared up at those stars, despite the peacefulness of the setting—the smell of smoke from their fire, the sound of crickets in the woods surrounding them, of owls calling softly to each other in the night, and the stars above.

How far will we need to go to find what we’re looking for?  He was afraid it’d be too far, that they would return too late.

These were the moments he’d been dreading for a decade and more, when the visions had finally begun to change, to give him hope where once there had been none.

He kissed her temple tenderly in the darkness and murmured into her hair, “We’ll make it home to him.  However long it takes, we’ll make it home to them all in time.  I promise.”

He closed his eyes and tried to let himself go to sleep as her arms tightened around him and she pressed closer against his side.

The screaming started a moment later.

“Earth to Thom?”

He jerked back to himself at the sound of Tala’s voice, blinking quickly and trying to will his heart to beat a little slower.  “Christ,” he murmured, rubbing his head.  “What was I saying?”

“That you need me to cook five course meals from our stores for the next five days,” Tala said dryly.  “And I was telling you how idiotic that would be.”

“I don’t think five course meals are necessary,” he said.  “I just think that we need to be a little more festive.  We survived the biggest threat we’ve faced so far.  It’s the season to celebrate.”

“Do you really think that he’s gone for good?”

He hesitated for a moment, then exhaled.  “I don’t know.  But I’m also not so sure he’s an enemy anymore, either.  Not after what we watched happen today.”  The bloody bastard fucking saved us.  I’m not sure if that was so he could finish us off himself or if he’s developing some kind of insane affection for us.  “We’ve still got a reason to celebrate, though.  We’ve made it this far.  If we’ve been able to do that, it’s only right that we celebrate the season.”

“Christmas, you mean,” Tala said, sighing softly and pivoting back toward the fire.  “I don’t know, Thom.”

“It’s not like you wouldn’t have help.”

“Who’s going to help?  You?”

He winced.  “I could, you know.  I can cook.”

Tala shook her head slightly.  “It’s going to be a lot of work, Thom.  Could really strain our resources.”

“Give Phelan and Thordin bows.  Hell, give me one.  We’ll go take a deer or two.  Would that help?”

“By light-years.  You going to field dress it for me, too?”

Christ, what did I just volunteer myself for?  “I guess I could.  It’s been a really long time.”

“I’m sure Thordin and Phelan will remember how to do it.”  She looked back at him after a moment.  “You were seeing something, weren’t you?”

“Eh?”

Tala smiled faintly.  “When I was trying to get your attention.  You were seeing something.  It’s been a while since you had, right?”

Thom grimaced.  Weeks.  “Yeah.”

“I wonder why they started up again now,” Tala said thoughtfully.  “Think there’s a reason?”

“Don’t know,” Thom said quietly.  But I’m afraid that we’re going to find out.  Just like every other time, I’m afraid we’re going to find out.

“Late?  What does that mean?  Late for—”

Matt elbowed Thordin hard in the side.  Christ, will you shut up?  “Mar, why is the prospect so terrifying?”

She blew out a breath and looked away.  “We’re not ready.  We’re not ready for Tala’s baby, we’re not ready for Neve’s, and we’re sure as hell not ready for mine and Thom’s.”

Did he actually tell her about those dreams?  Those visions of his?  Matt frowned.  “Would it be that terrible?”

Marin looked at him, tears glittering at the corners of her eyes.  “I’m not sure, Matty.  I don’t know.  I mean…I just don’t know.”  She dropped her basket and was suddenly hugging him, her face buried against his shoulder.  After the barest hesitation, Matt slowly wrapped his arms around his sister, holding her tight, fingers lacing through her dark hair.

“It’s okay, Mar,” he murmured quietly.  “It’ll be okay.  Whether you are or you aren’t doesn’t matter.  Everything’s going to be fine.”

“No it won’t,” she said, her voice muffled by his jacket.  “Having our son starts a timer.  We won’t be here when he grows up to be a man.”

A shiver shot through Matt and his jaw tightened.  What the hell has she seen, too?  Where does it intersect with what Thom’s seen—and where does all of that intersect with reality?

At some point, he was going to find out, and he was still dreading the day he did.

Just pray you don’t find out the hard way or the painful way.

“Nothing is written in stone,” Phelan said, expression a mix of pain and concern.  “You have to remember that, Marin.  Nothing is written in stone.”

There was something like despair in his eyes, though, and Matt suppressed a shudder.  He held his sister a little tighter.  Nothing is written in stone, but apparently some things are more likely than others.  This must be one of them.  He frowned and rested his chin against Marin’s head.

“Whatever happens, you’re stuck with me,” he murmured into her hair.  “Me and your husband and the rest of this crazy band of yahoos.  Whatever happens.”

Marin sucked in a shaky breath and hugged him harder.  “I know,” she whispered.  “Believe me, Matty, I know it.  I wish knowing that helped, but it doesn’t.”  She let go of him and straightened slightly, turning toward Phelan.  Her eyes were rimed with red from her short-lived tears, her brow furrowed.  “She’s gone?”

“For now,” Phelan said.  “I doubt she’s gone far, but for now, you don’t have to see or listen to her.”  He frowned.  “I’ve never seen you react like that to something.”

“I’ve never had occasion to,” Marin said quietly.  She bent down to pick up her dropped basket, crouching to gather up the scattered holly boughs that had bounced free when she’d dropped their container.

“Oh, you’ve had occasion,” Phelan said, frowning.  “Unless there’s something you’re not saying.”

“I’m not talking about it.”  She straightened, basket in hand.  “So you can stop asking about it and forget about it, or you can just stop asking.  It’s up to you.”

Phelan stared at her for a moment, then glanced toward J.T. and then Matt.  He sighed and shook his head.  “All right.  I’ll leave well enough alone.  Every power that is or was know by now that I should know when to do that.”

“It’s not going to be easy.”  Thordin said, grinning ruefully.

“No.  No, it’s not.”  Phelan stared at Marin.  “But I’ll figure it out.  Everyone keeps telling me I need to.  Maybe it’s time.”

Marin gave him a grateful smile.  “Thank you, Phelan.”

He shrugged.  “If I can’t do it for family, who can I do it for?”

Matt put his arm around Marin’s shoulders.  “Truer words were never spoken.  Come on.  Let’s go see of Thom’s done negotiating.”

“Something tells me it’s not going well,” J.T. said.

“Then we’ll just sit back and wish we had popcorn.”  Matt smiled, trying to ignore the churning of his stomach.  “Come on.”  Anything to distract me at this point—anything.

Watching my brother-in-law get yelled at?  I suppose that’s as good as anything else.

“Marin, wait.  Marin!”

Matt ducked Thordin’s whistling axe and turned toward the sound of Phelan’s shouting, holding up a hand to forestall another assault.  Behind him, Thordin frowned slightly and took a step closer, cocking his head to one side.

“What’s the matter?”

“You don’t hear that?”

Thordin snorted.  “Of course I do, I just didn’t think anything of it.”

Mat shook his head slightly, watching as his sister came marching into view with a look of horror mixed with terror etched on her face, Phelan’s voice chasing her.  “This isn’t something you ignore,” he muttered, then handed his axe to Thordin.  “I’ll be back.”

Thordin snorted again and shook his head.  “Lead on.  Time I learned something myself.”

“Marin!”

Matt winced at the tone in Phelan’s voice—a slight edge of panic he couldn’t quite remember hearing, especially directed at his sister—and jogged downhill to catch up with Marin, who was moving at a fairly quick pace toward the rest of camp.  He picked up his pace slightly so he was sure to catch up with her before Phelan did.

He put a hand on her shoulder and she whipped around so fast he was shocked she didn’t have whiplash.  Her shoulders slumped slightly as she met his gaze.

“Matt.”

“Worried I was Phelan?” he asked, falling into step with her, setting a pace that was a little slower than the clip she’d been moving at a moment before.

Marin shuddered and shoved her hands into her pockets.  “No.  Worried you were the thing following him.”

Thing following…?  He glanced back over his shoulder, beyond Thordin toward where Phelan was trying to catch up, J.T. at his heels.  “Mar, last time I checked, J.T. was not a thing.”

“Not J.T.  There’s a ghost with them.”

“Oh.”  Great.  More ghosts.  I guess I shouldn’t complain, given how many times they seem to show up just in time to save our asses…  “That’s never made you wig out like this before.”

“That’s because they’ve never said what this one said before.  And before you ask, no, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Matt blinked at her.  “Uh, okay?”

Thordin fell into step with them on the other side of Marin.  She barely glanced at him, just kept her head down and kept right on walking.

“Something eating at you, skjöldur mær?”

She glanced at him, blinking.  “What did you call me?”

Thordin hitched a shoulder in a shrug.  “A pet name for someone I knew long ago.”

“There’s a very large part of me that doesn’t want to be called by the old nicknames for her, Thordin,” she said.  “Especially not right now, when it’s her past that’s haunting me today.”

Matt frowned, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying something.  As if visions of the future weren’t enough, she’s haunted by a past that may or may not be hers.  He looked away.  Who am I kidding?  I’ve dreamed enough to know it’s hers—and mine.

At least I haven’t outright admitted that to anyone yet, though.  The longer I can keep that under my hat, the better off we’ll all be.  At least for a little while longer.  The longer at least one of them from that innermost core at least appeared not to completely buy into the magic that everyone seemed to be somehow infected with, the better off they all were.

That was the thought, anyway.

“Where are you going?” he asked his sister after a momentary silence.

“I have no fucking clue,” she said, then sighed.  “Probably to catch up with Thom.  Of course, he’s probably done fighting with Tala about meals for the next four days anyway, so I’ve got no idea where I’m going or why.”  She stopped and looked at her brother.  “It’s Yule.”

“I know.  I was there when Phelan brought it up and Thom had some kind of brain drizzle over it and bolted.  You guys trying to find a way to make us celebrate the season, then?”

“That was the idea.”  Her gaze drifted toward Phelan, who was still heading toward them.  She blew out a quiet breath.  “I’m not going to be able to get away, am I?”

“Camp’s not big enough for it,” Matt said.

“Right.”  Her jaw firmed.  “The ghost told me that I’m going to have a baby sometime in the near future, Matt.”

He rocked back against his heels, blinking. “Seriously?  How likely is that?”

Marin’s lips thinned and she met his gaze head-on.  “I’m a week late.”

I pushed to my feet before J.T. was a few strides away and jogged to catch up with him.  “Jay, wait up.”

He paused, half turning back toward me.  “You’re not going to stick around here and watch Matt and Thordin after you’re done with that holly?”

“I don’t think I’ve got the stomach for it.”  Watching my brother possibly get his arm taken off in a training exercise?  No thanks.  I shook my head slightly.  “I’ll just head back with you and we’ll rescue Thom from Tala.”

J.T. nodded.  “That sounds like a plan.”

We went three steps before J.T. stopped, brows knitting.  He touched my arm to stop me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Phelan’s coming.”

I blinked at him.  “How the hell do you know that he’s coming?”

“Because I can feel the spirit that’s with him.”  J.T.’s lips thinned and his fingers tightened around my arm.  “I don’t like it, Mar.  I don’t think the spirit’s going to hurt him, but I don’t like the fact that it’s lingering around him and I don’t fully know why.”

“Who is it?”  I asked him.

He shook his head.  “Someone he knew.  His goddaughter or something, he said.  He didn’t elaborate much more than that.”

I frowned, looking beyond him and toward the rest of camp.  Phelan was walking, head down, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, but I could see his lips moving.

“God,” I muttered.  “Everyone’s going to think he’s flipping nuts if they see him talking to something no one can see like that.”

“You say that like half of camp doesn’t already know he’s nuts,” J.T. muttered back.  He squeezed my arm again and stepped away, heading to intercept Phelan with me on his heels.  “Phelan!”

His head jerked up and he stared at J.T. and I for a moment before he just kept walking—no hint of a smile, no nothing.

I barely managed to suppress a shiver.  What’s going on with him now?

I don’t like this.  I don’t like this at all.

Phelan crossed the holly hedges and headed for the bridge, leaving J.T. and I to jog after him.

“What’s gotten into him?”  I hissed at J.T.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

We caught up to Phelan a dozen feet before he hit the bridge, his head still bowed and his voice a soft murmur in his native tongue.  I grasped his shoulder and he jerked away, spinning toward me.  His eyes grew wide for a moment, pupils huge, then he shook his head hard and exhaled quietly.

“Déithe agus arrachtaigh,” he murmured.  “Sorry.  Did you need me for something?”

J.T. was looking at something—someone—I couldn’t see.  I swallowed hard, struggling to keep my gaze on Phelan and to keep my voice steady.

“Who was she, Phelan?  Who is she?”

His eyes widened slightly, then he looked away with a quiet sigh.  “A friend,” he said.  “Brighid’s daughter.  The one she took from the sea.”

My lips formed the name even before I realized what I was saying.  “Ériu.”

He nodded slightly, pain flickering through his gaze as he glanced toward the spirit J.T. was watching.  “I didn’t know that she was still lingering,” Phelan said softly.  “I’ve been trying to convince her for hours to move on.  She keeps telling me she can’t.”

A voice I felt more than heard shivered through my bones.

“It’s true.  I can’t.”

The voice was achingly familiar, heartbreakingly familiar.  I could hear the child from my vision in the woman’s voice that shivered through me.

“I can’t leave until the children are born,” the voice said.  “I have to watch over them, Phelan.  I have to.”

“Children,” I echoed softy.  “Which children?”

I felt the smile even though I couldn’t see it.  “Yours, Seer, and Princess Neve’s.”

I wanted to puke all over my boots.  “That’s going to be a long time,” I said, mouth suddenly dry.

“No.  I’m afraid not.”

J.T. scrambled after me and caught up before I’d gone more than a dozen steps.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded quietly.  “Matt’s trying to be proactive about shit and you’re throwing it back in his face.”

I shook my head.  “I’m not doing that.”

“You are.  Aren’t you the one who said something about everyone needing to learn how to defend themselves in the first place?”

“You’re confusing me with my husband.  We are still two distinct individuals.”

J.T. snorted humorlessly and shook his head.  “Believe me, I’m more than well aware of that.  What’s eating at you, Mar?”

“Damned if I know,” I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut for a bare moment.  “This isn’t like me.”

“No, it’s not—hence the concern.”  J.T. touched my shoulder lightly.  “I know that the fighting didn’t go as planned…”

“It’s not that.”  But was it what I saw in the middle of all of that?  Maybe.  My lips thinned and I stayed quiet as we walked to the row of holly bushes that marked the edge of the settlement.  They’d filled out nicely since we planted them, thick and full, all bright green leaves and red berries against rough wooden stems.

“Are you sure it’s not?”

“I’m sure.”  I tried to stifle a sigh as I crouched in the snow to snip off a few sprigs of holly from the first bush.  “Maybe I’m just out of sorts, Jay.  I don’t think it’s a different kind of out of sorts from usual, though.”

“And that has absolutely nothing to do with the fight that we just won?”

I winced.  “Maybe it does.  I almost got Phelan killed.”

“How do you figure?”

“If I hadn’t suggested he walk out there and assassinate Cariocecus, he would’ve been safely behind the walls with the rest of us and he wouldn’t have gotten hurt.  This time it was my fault he got hurt and that sucks.  It sucks pretty hard.”

J.T. winced.  “But he seems pretty okay now.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I murmured.  “I haven’t seen him.”

“He’s not avoiding you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

J.T. smiled wryly.  “Fairly.  We went hunting for Thom earlier to put a bug in his ear.  And Thordin, and your brother.  Not entirely certain why—I think he was going a little crazy cooped up in the room.”

I shook my head slowly.  “Jacqueline said that she didn’t think he’d be up for a couple days.  What the hell happened?  Did she manage to heal him more than she thought she’d be able to?”

He winced again.  “Not…quite.”  He crouched down next to me, his voice quiet.  “There…there was a ghost.”

I straightened slightly, blinking at him.  “A ghost?”  Again?  Is he some kind of magnet for all things weird?  I was beginning to think that he was—he had to be, given everything that had happened to him over the course of a lifetime, even in the course of the short term.  “What kind of ghost?”

“The unsettling but not terrifying kind,” J.T. said with a wry smile.  “He knew who she was when I told him her name.  She…I don’t know if she was actually a ghost or some kind of spirit, Mar, but she healed him more than Jac had managed.  I don’t understand what kind of power it was that she used, but I could feel it in my bones.”

My brow furrowed and I stared at nothing for a long moment, fingers curling around the shears in one hand and a holly branch in the other.  “There’s too many players in this game,” I said quietly.  “I don’t like it, Jay.”

“I’m more worried about the day we know who all of them are, Mar.  That’s the day we don’t have any hope left.”

“How do you figure?”

J.T. shook his head, smiling grimly.  “That’s the day we don’t have any more happy surprises coming to save the day.”

I had to admit that he was right.  When he put it that way, I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of knowing it all, either.

“Well,” I finally said quietly. “I guess we have to hope that day never comes.”

“Exactly.”  J.T. squeezed my shoulder and straightened.  “Do you need any help?”

“No,” I murmured quietly.  “I think I’m okay.  Tala and Thom might, though.  Thom was trying to wrangle her into making something a little more festive for dinner the next few nights.”

J.T. grinned.  “I think I can help with that.”  He squeezed my shoulder one more time before he lumbered away. I sat back against my heels in the snow and watched him walk away.

Everything was starting to change again and I wasn’t sure if I liked it one bit.

I spotted Matt and J.T. trailing in Thorin’s wake as they walked out of the forge as I headed out toward the holly hedges about half an hour later.  I’d left Thom to negotiations with Tala about our victuals for the next few days, though I was fairly certain it’d be entertaining to anyone sticking around to watch.  I’d borrowed one of Jacqueline’s baskets and headed out with a pair of shears to gather up some holly to decorate for the season.

I paused, watching as they tramped across a crust of snow to where there used to be volleyball nets on Robinson Field.  An axe head gleamed in the afternoon sun, set into a shaft of dark wood that Thordin held comfortably in one hand.

To my surprise, he turned and lofted the axe to my brother.  Matt caught it so easily that I stopped dead in my tracks, just staring at them.  Thordin unslung the axe he carried across his back, then nodded to Matt.

“Come on, then.  Let’s see what you can do with it and don’t worry about hurting me.  I’ll dodge.”

What in blazes are they doing?

Matt came at Thordin with the axe and I almost dropped my basket.  Thordin swung his own axe up, catching Matt’s swing and deflecting it easily.  His shoulders and arms flexed and Matt stumbled back, axe swinging wildly for a moment.

I caught my breath even as my brother caught his balance.

What the hell?

“What the hell are you guys doing?” I found myself bellowing as I marched toward them, basket thumping against my hip.

Both men froze.  J.T. winced and Thordin, whose back had been mostly to me, turned slowly.

“Ah, just a little sparring,” he said.  “Your—er—Matthew asked if I could give him a few pointers.”

“With an axe?”  I glanced at Matt.  “What happened to swords?”

“I’m crap at swords,” he said.  “Ask your husband, he’ll tell you.”

“He said you were starting to pick it up.”

Matt snorted and nodded to Thordin, then to the axe in his hand.  “Thordin pointed something out to me that’s probably pretty damned true.  If I spend the rest of my days pounding metal, I’m better off using a weapon that’ll let me use that strength and some finesse rather than a weapon that’s mostly finesse.”

It made a vague amount of sense, but it still worried me more than a little.  “But…axes?”

“What would you rather I pick up?  I’m equally likely to hurt myself with any weapon you put in my hands.”  Matt smiled wryly, hefting the axe.  “Seems like I’ve at least got some kind of knack for this.”

“More than a small one,” Thordin piped up helpfully.  He grinned at the glare I shot him.  “What?” he asked, his voice full of nothing but mischief and innocence all at once.

I just kept right on glaring and he laughed.  Behind Thordin, J.T. smacked his forehead and groaned.

“Mar, calm down,” Matt said.  “It’ll be fine.”

Somewhere deep down, I knew it would be, but I was still damned uncomfortable with it all.  I swallowed a snarl and stalked off toward the holly bushes.

“Mar?”

“Just practice,” I snapped, trying to keep the anger out of my voice.  “I’ve got work to do.”

“Work?”

I glared over my shoulder.  “Didn’t Phelan remind you?  It’s Yule.  I’ve got decorating to do.”

Thom greeted me by wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me back against him—I nearly dropped the basket of laundry I was hauling.  I blinked over my shoulder at him, trying to pretend I was annoyed that he’d interrupted my chores, the one tiny bit of normalcy in the otherwise insane day we’d just had.

“Mm.  To what do I owe this sudden display of affection?” I asked, giving up the battle.  “Something about to go sideways?”

“I hope not,” he said, kissing my jaw.  “It’s the season.”

“What’s the season?”

“It’s Yule.”

I stared at him, trying to figure out what that was supposed to mean—why it was suddenly so important—and stood there blinking at him before he sighed.

“…yeah.  I had the same reaction.  Phelan had to hit me over the head with a clue sledgehammer.”  Thom released me and tried to take the basket from me.  I shook my head.

“No, I’ve got this balanced pretty well.  What clue sledgehammer did he hit you with?”

Thom smiled wryly.  “Things have been so rough lately that we need to celebrate the fact that won—and it’s the season for it.  If the world hadn’t ended, we’d be four days out from Christmas.  No one’s been thinking about that.”

“Of course not,” I said.  “We’ve been too busy worrying about not getting killed and making it through the winter.”

“That was the clue.  We need to relax, at least for a few hours—all of us.”  He fell into step with me as I hauled the basket of laundry over to the wash tubs, where a few of the others were already hard at work on jeans and towels and blankets.

“But I’m guessing he didn’t have any blatant suggestions regarding how?”

“He left that part to you and I.”

Of course he did.  I frowned a little.  “Is he mobile?”

“Yeah.  He showed up at the forge with Jay in tow.”

I shivered, nodding.  “Good.  J.T. had the weirdest look on his face earlier.  I was worried.”

Thom gave me a strange look himself.  “What kind of weird look?”

“The I’m seeing a ghost and it’s weirding me out more than usual look he gets every so often.  It must not have been anything terrifying, though, since Jacqueline came out by the fire a few minutes later and said everything was fine and that Jay was with Phelan.”  I shrugged slightly.  “If Phelan’s up and around already and hinting at things, everything must be fine.”

Thom grunted.  “Right.  Business as usual.”

“Exactly.”  Which is a relief—I’m still not sure what we’d do without him at this point.  Had it really only been a few months since he’d found us here?  It seemed like so much longer.  I set down my basket near one of the wash tubs and looked at him, voice dropping quieter.  “So what are you thinking we should do?”

“Talk to Tala,” Thom suggested.  “See what we can get together for dinner that would be…festive but not too taxing for the next few days.  Maybe put up some decorations.”

“Decorations,” I echoed.  “Like what?”

He shrugged. “Pine branches, holly.  That kind of thing.  We’ve got enough—it’s easy to find.”

That’s true.  I frowned.  “And I’m guessing this isn’t supposed to be a surprise?”

“No.  We want people to see us doing it and start thinking.”

And start realizing that maybe we do have something to celebrate, too, huh?  I couldn’t stop the smile and nodded slightly.  “Sounds like the beginnings of a plan, anyway.  Are you going to go get started?”

“Aren’t you going to come with me?”

“I have laundry.”

He kissed me warmly.  “Someone else will do it.  Come on.  We’ve got work to do.”

Phelan came to them later, as the day slowly gave way to night, the sun sinking lower and sparkling against the snow.  Never had lost track of how long she and Cameron had stood there together, staring out at nothing but snow, distant trees, and a future neither of them dared predict.

She felt his approach as much as heard it, half turning to see him and wincing as her body protested.  Damnation.  I feel like some kind of old woman.  Someone ancient.

Well, I guess that fits—because I am.

“I see you’re alive,” she said, struggling to keep her tone level.  There were gashes down the sides of his face, neatly stitched but already showing signs of healing faster than they should have.

“Apparently so,” he answered with a wry smile.  “Another narrow escape from the jaws of death.”

She sobered immediately, all thoughts of teasing evaporating in a heartbeat.  “How narrow?”

“I didn’t see my life flicker before my eyes,” Phelan said, one shoulder hitching in a shrug.  “But I scared Jacqueline and Jameson, at the very least—probably Thom and Marin, too.”

It was a close call, then.  She caught her lip between her teeth and leaned into Cameron.  “Shouldn’t you be sleeping it off, then?”

“You know me.  I work until I drop and then I sleep for a week.  I think I’ve got another few days in me.”  He gave her a cheeky grin that shrank after a moment, something distant and painful in his eyes.  “It’s Yule, Neve.”

She stiffened.  Cameron glanced down at her.

“Neve, you just got all tense.  What’s the significance?” he asked, looking between them.  “Must mean something beyond Yule logs and the darkest day of the year.”

I can’t do it.  I can’t.  I’m not ready for it—not prepared.  There’s so much that goes into being ready to do that…he’ll ask.  I know he’ll ask.  But I’m going to have to tell him no.

“It’s nothing,” she whispered, though the words were a lie.

“I need you to do it,” Phelan said half a second later.

“Do what?” Cameron asked.

“It’s nothing,” she repeated, her voice a little stronger this time.  Cam, quit asking.  Phelan, stop it.  “It’s not important.”

“Sing them home, Neve.”  Phelan’s voice was quiet, but firm, on the bleeding edge of pleading without slipping over the line.  “No one else can do it.”

“You have Jameson,” she snapped.  “He can do it.”

“He doesn’t know how.  Someone has to teach them, Neve.”

“Teach Marin.”

“I can’t.”  He fell silent for a moment.

“You can,” she answered.  I know that you can.  It’s not that difficult.  You know the concept.  You’d be able to figure it out.

“Will one of you please start making sense?”  Cameron demanded.

Neve just buried her face against her lover’s neck and said nothing.  Phelan held his peace as well and for a moment, she thought that maybe, just maybe, he was going to let it all go.

No such luck.  Phelan broke the heavy silence a moment later.  “Ériu came to me today.”

Hellfire.  “She’s still…?”

“It’s like I’m speaking another language,” Cameron muttered.  “Will one of you please explain what’s going on here?”

“When we were young, back where we’re from, Neve was one of the women who would sing the souls of the dead across to the Summer Country.  Every turning of the season, every festival—she and my sister, most often—they’d sing the dead home.”  Phelan looked away from Cameron and toward Neve again.  “And I need her to do it now.  We’ve done it once and it was…clumsy.  It didn’t go as well as I’d have hoped.”

Neve’s fingers dug into Cameron’s arm.  “I can’t,” she breathed.  “Phelan—”

“If you don’t, Neve, who will?”

“I told you,” she said, tears gathering in her eyes.  “Teach one of the others.  I can’t do this, Phelan.  I can’t do this now.”

Cameron’s arms closed around her.  “Why not?” he murmured in her ear.

“I just can’t,” she whispered.  “Please don’t ask it of me.”  Not when I just want to curl up and hide from death Herself.  Please, don’t ask me.

“Then it won’t be done,” Phelan said softly.  “They’ll have to wait until an easier time—the autumnal equinox again, I guess.”

Shivers shot through her.  “Hell,” she swore under her breath.  “Phelan…”

“No.  You said you won’t.”

“But I have to.”

He stared back and nodded slowly.  “Yes.  You do.”

Neve squeezed her eyes shut.  “Then I will.  But I’ll need something to wear.”

His lips quirked into a smile.  “I think that can be arranged.”

Neve leaned against her crutches, trying to take deep, even breaths so she could ignore the pain that hummed through her body, reverberated down to her bones.  Something unexpected had come, something powerful, something that had almost knocked her cold even when they’d been buried underground for the duration of the fight.  The residual impressions still sent shivers through her bones.

“They made it,” Cameron observed quietly as he eased up behind Neve.  “We all made it.”  His hand pressed against the small of her back and she shivered for entirely different reasons.  The touch was warm, comforting, almost unconsciously possessive.  Neve exhaled and leaned back against his palm.

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly as she stared at the shadows on the snow cast by the dying rays of daylight.

The gates to the settlement stood open now that the threat had passed.  It was the kind of bright winter day that begged for birds to sing despite the bitter cold.  Instead, it was still and silent except for the normal sounds of human activity in the camp.

Normal.  Three, four hundred years ago, this would have been near to that.  This is the new normal, I guess.

“What’s the matter?”  Cameron asked.

She shook her head slightly.  “Nothing,” she lied, her voice soft.  She leaned against his hand and he smiled, sliding his arm around her shoulders and holding her gently in the crook of his arm.  Neve leaned into him and sighed.

“This is the part where I tell you that I know you’re lying about that,” he murmured into her hair.  “I saw the look on your face when we were still down there.  Tala saw it, too—she said something to me.”

Neve winced.  “How long will it be before it’s all over camp?”

“I think she’ll stay quiet for a little while, anyway.  Last I checked, they were all fretting over Phelan getting clawed in the face.”

She winced again, feeling a momentary pang of guilt.  I should check on him.  Make sure he’s all right.  “Is there a reason to fret?”

“I saw him with J.T. heading up to the forge, so I imagine that he’s probably going to be all right.  Moving under his own power and all that.”

Better than yours truly.  Neve nodded slowly.  “Good.”  Aoife and Teague would come apart if something really bad happened to him.  I can’t let that happen, not while I’m here.  “They need him.  I need him.”  One hand strayed to her belly.  Cameron’s free hand covered hers, their fingers knitting together.

“He’s family,” Cameron murmured.

“Yeah.”  Neve smiled slightly.  “But it’s more than that.”

“More, huh?”

She nodded.  “More.”

“You’d think by now that I’d know better than to ask.”

“Do you?”

Cameron shrugged slightly.  “I like to think so.”

Neve smiled again and closed her eyes.  The feel of whatever had been here was more distant now, held at bay somehow.  “There was something terrible out here today, Cam,” she said.  “Something none of us expected.  Worse than what we thought was coming.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t know,” she said.  “But I can feel it.  Just like I can feel the ghosts that were here, feel the battle…I…this is different for me.”  There, I said it.  It’s out there.

“Different?”

“I’ve never been able to sense things quite like this before,” Neve said softly.  “Everything’s changed.  More than I realized.”

“For better or worse?”

“Déithe agus arrachtaigh, for the better, I hope.”  Gods and monsters, for the better, I dearly, dearly hope.