[This post is from Phelan’s point of view.]
There was a strange sort of silence blanketing the world as dawn broke. Phelan watched the sun come up through the ravine’s trees, its rays painting green leaves orange and gold, shafts of light falling here and there in the grass near his feet. He sat on a railing near the edge of the ravine, one that once upon a time would have stopped cyclists and skateboarders from tumbling off the sidewalk into a nasty fall. The metal had warmed beneath his fingers where he gripped the rail, where his bare feet rested against a lower rung. He was tired, but sleep hadn’t come. There was too much rolling around in his skull and Jacqueline hadn’t come to bed besides. Sleeping alone had become strange, especially when he was largely healthy.
The sound of footsteps made him glance back and he offered his cousin a slight smile. “Couldn’t sleep, either?”
Seamus made a quiet, slightly frustrated sound in his throat. “Something feels wrong. Off.”
“That statement has described the world for almost a year now,” Phelan said.
“Shut up, Phelan. You know what I meant.”
Phelan grunted. “What now?”
“I’ll be damned if I can put my finger on it.”
He shot Seamus a level look, his brow furrowing as his cousin leaned against the rail next to him. “That’s incredibly helpful, thank you Seamus.”
“Would you stop?”
“No, I don’t think I will.” Phelan looked away, toward the ravine and the trees. “I don’t have a good reason to. I know something’s not right—off more than usual. If that wasn’t the case, Thom would be up and grumping at everyone right now, regardless of how badly he’s been hurt. But he hasn’t woken up since he passed out in the watchtower.” That bothered him more than he wanted to let on. So far as he could tell, there wasn’t a reason for either Thom’s unconsciousness, the sudden fever, or the inflammation around the wounds the camazotzi had left in his friend.
That alone would have been enough to lose sleep over, and he suspected that Marin hadn’t gotten a wink either as a result.
“At least the twins are healthy,” Seamus said quietly. “And Neve’s resting.”
“A bright spot amidst everything else,” Phelan agreed, then started at his cousin again for the span of a few heartbeats. “Now what can you sense that you don’t want to talk about, Seamus?”
After a long silence, Seamus answered. “I can feel her hunting for me now. She isn’t dead.”
It took a few seconds for Phelan to realize who he meant. “Albina?”
“She won’t stop until she finds me.”
“She can get in line,” Phelan said grimly. “That’s all there is to it.”
