Thirty-four – 07

Posted on June 24, 2016 by Erin M. Klitzke

[This post is from Phelan’s point of view.]

Thordin’s hammer clanged off the anvil instead of the blade, ringing wrong, sounding off-key. Phelan risked a glance up at him, knowing what he’d see in his friend’s face—astonishment, disbelief, confusion.

He was wrong, though. There was a strange sort of curiosity in Thordin’s look, mingled with surprise and somehow, against all odds, understanding.

“You can’t imagine a world where she’s not in it,” Thordin murmured. “Whether she’s your friend or your enemy.”

“Both of them,” Phelan said softly, leaning his head back against the wall and staring at the shadowed ceiling. “Killing Hecate would destroy my sister. And if Hecate’s gone…” His eyes slid shut. “You’re right. I can’t imagine a world where she doesn’t exist. She’s—she’s like some kind of constant in my world.” His eyes flickered open and he sighed. “I’ve spent centuries telling myself I hate her and now I’m finding myself asking whether or not I really do.”

Thordin put the blade back into the coals to heat again. “What conclusion are you coming to?”

“That I’ve only fought her because I had to, because she seemed hell-bent on stopping me from doing what I need to do—either through killing me or kidnapping me. But looking back, I don’t know that I ever really hated her. I was angry, yes—especially when she’d go after Teague, or chase after me when I really, really had something important I needed to accomplish. It was an unwelcome distraction, but…I don’t know. I don’t know that I ever really hated her.” His voice grew soft. “And I don’t know if she ever really hated me, either.”

Thordin nodded, taking the blade out and laying it against the anvil. The hammer fell true this time, the clang echoing softly as he continued his work. “Then you know what you have to do, don’t you?”

Phelan choked on a laugh. “We don’t know where she is, Thordin. No one does. That’s the only thing that’s preventing Aoife from rushing off right now, I think—the fact that we’ve got no clue where the Hecate is.”

“There’s someone here who might know.”

Phelan frowned, then stiffened. “He’s still unconscious.”

“If she’s determined enough, old friend…”

Phelan squeezed his eyes shut. “I just have to hope no one’s mentioned him to her yet.”

And failing that, I have to hope that Cariocecus doesn’t know where to find the woman my sister wants to kill.

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Thirty-four – 06

Posted on June 22, 2016 by Erin M. Klitzke

[This post is from Phelan’s point of view.]

Phelan kept walking—out of the tent, out into the sunshine and the grass of a late afternoon. The chill of winter had faded, giving away to a spring that was warming quickly, would turn to a brief, violent summer if he was anyone to guess.

He didn’t intend to end up there. It just happened.

The sound of a hammer against an anvil echoed from the forge and his heart lifted even as his throat tightened. He knew it wasn’t Matt up there. Matt was still gone, still lost—not forever, he hoped, but sometimes it was hard to believe that they’d ever see him again.

Phelan closed his eyes, leaning against the solid walls that he’d helped build. The stone was cool where it had been sitting in the shadows, warm where the sun had hit it. If he just closed his eyes, he could take himself back to before, before it had all started to come unglued, before everything had stopped making sense in his brain.

Does she really know how to love someone—anyone?

The sound within the forge stopped. Phelan opened his eyes, tilting his head back to stare at the sky for a few long moments.

“I’m not disturbing you, am I?” he asked quietly, knowing full well that Thordin would hear him.

“Get in here if you need to talk,” his friend rumbled. The sound of the hammer resumed.

Phelan managed to smile, his eyes stinging.

There are worse problems to have than friends who know when something’s eating away at you—even without seeing you.

He straightened from his lean and went inside. Thordin glanced up at him for a brief moment before he shoved the piece he was working on back into the maw of the kiln to heat. Phelan sat down and reached for a sword with one hand, setting his book down with the other.

“It’s eating away at you,” Thordin observed, pumping the bellows and watching the flames build in the firebox. “Has Jac told you that’s bad for you, or do I have to do it for her?”

“I do a lot of things that are bad for me,” Phelan murmured, picking up one of the whetstones. “I’m not dead yet.”

“Yet is the operative term in that statement,” Thordin said. “Is this about your sister?”

“Yes,” Phelan said, then sighed. “And no. I can’t stop her from doing what she wants to do, Thordin, but somehow everyone seems to be expecting me to find a way.”

“You’re her brother, not her keeper.” Thordin pulled the blade out of the fire and laid it on the anvil. “Are you worried?”

“Yes.”

“That she’ll get killed?”

Phelan hesitated, then shook his head. “No,” he said in a soft voice. “No, I’m afraid that she’ll succeed.”

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Thirty-four – 05

Posted on June 20, 2016 by Erin M. Klitzke

[This post is from Gray Miller’s point of view.]

Phelan stared at him for a long moment, his brow furrowing. “Use what? Seamus’s gamble that didn’t pay off?”

“We might be able to leverage it into paying off,” Gray said, his thoughts starting to race. Family’s important to her—she’s doing this because of her family. There has to be a way to use this. “I’m not sure how, but there’s got to be something.”

“Well, I’m open to suggestions right now,” Phelan said, fidgeting with his book. “We’ve been talking about it. Everyone knows what she’s planning and none of us like it, but short of physically restraining her, she’s got the right of it—we can’t stop her from doing this if she’s got her mind set on it.” He exhaled slowly. “And I’m not comfortable treating my sister like some sort of prisoner, either.”

“Then what’s our other option?”

He looked away. “Letting her do it and hopefully fail, but not get herself killed. That might be our only option at this point, Gray. There might not be any other choices left to us. I wish—I wish there were. I truly do.”

His stomach dropped straight through him to the ground. Gray’s hands curled into fists and he swallowed bile that suddenly crept higher and higher in his throat. “You can’t be serious.”

“I don’t have any other options. She won’t listen to reason, I won’t lock her up. All I can do at this point is mitigate the damage that happens as best I can.” Phelan started to move past him, his face pale and expression grim.

Gray’s hand shot out to stop him.

“That’s not a good answer, O’Credne,” Gray said, his voice abruptly hoarse. “Come up with something better.”

“I wish I could,” Phelan said, then shook off Gray’s hand. “Like I said. I’m open to suggestions.”

All Gray could do then was stand there and watch him go.

Suggestions were one thing he was fresh out of.

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Thirty-four – 04

Posted on June 17, 2016 by Erin M. Klitzke

[This post is from Gray Miller’s point of view.]

He’d gone a dozen steps beyond the corridor’s exit before he ran into Phelan, whose nose was stuck in a book. Somehow, Gray found that to be a surprising sight—Phelan wandering around with a book in hand. Phelan just didn’t seem to be the bookish type based on Gray’s impression of him, though he’d be the first to admit that he might be wrong about that.

“Can I talk to you?”

Phelan jumped, blinking and startled, then smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Guess I was a little more engrossed in this than I thought I was.” He tucked a scrap of paper into the book to mark his place before shutting it and tucking it under his arm. “What’s up?”

“It’s about your sister.”

Phelan’s smile became a little forced, a little strained. “If you’re asking for her hand, you should probably—”

Gray choked, shaking his head. “No, no, nothing like that.” Not yet, anyway, but maybe someday. Maybe next time we visit.

If there’s a next time.

He took a slow, deep breath. “How do we stop her from going after the Hecate?”

Blood drained from Phelan’s face and he abruptly looked ancient and very, very tired. “I wish I had an answer to that riddle,” he said quietly. “None of us seem to. We’ve been trying to find one.”

“Are you anywhere close?” Gray asked, feeling his throat tighten and his stomach sour.

                If her brother doesn’t have any answers, what kind of chance do I have?

“Damned if I know,” Phelan muttered. “Seamus tried to pull the head of the clan card with her and she rejected it out of hand.”

Gray frowned. “Is he?”

“Is he what?”

“Head of the—the clan?” The words felt awkward, but he assumed they were true based on everything he knew about Aoife and her family.

“As near to as it gets,” Phelan said. “At least here. He and Teague can fight it out later if Teague would care to. It’s not like the crown matters here. Not anymore.”

Gray frowned. This is a lot more complicated than I thought.

“Right,” he murmured. “Well, maybe we can still use that.”

We’ll find a way. I can’t let her do this. It’ll just get her killed.

I can’t let that happen.

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Thirty-four – 03

Posted on June 15, 2016 by Erin M. Klitzke

[This post is from Gray Miller’s point of view.]

It took him a full two hours to calm Aoife down and coax her into bed. It was easy for him to see how exhausted she was—exhausted by worry, exhausted by the circumstances, exhausted by hating so hard for so long.

She needs to rest, Gray told himself as he gently tucked a blanket over Aoife’s slumbering form. Maybe if she sleeps, she’ll think clearly.

Maybe if she sleeps, we have a prayer of getting her to listen to reason instead of going off on her own after someone she herself has said is dangerous as hell.

“Sweet dreams, Aoife,” he whispered before he quietly slipped out, shutting the door gently so it wouldn’t disturb her, wouldn’t wake her.

I shouldn’t worry about that. She’s sleeping the sleep of the dead. How the hell did we let her push herself that far?

As if any of us had a prayer of stopping it.

Gray squeezed his eyes shut, leaning back against the door for a moment. Aoife was stubborn and he knew that—and he suspected that her brother and her cousins knew it as well if not better than he did. If she hadn’t been stubborn, they wouldn’t be here.

But he was stubborn, too.

Question is, can I out-stubborn her this time?

“I’m going to have to,” he muttered, then straightened. Down the corridor he marched, down the corridor and out into the light. If he was going to stop her, he’d need help—help from everyone willing to give it.

He didn’t know how far they’d have to go to keep her there, to keep her from going after the Hecate, but whatever it took, he was willing to do it.

Somehow, he knew it was the only way he was going to be able to keep her safe and alive.

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Thirty-four – 02

Posted on June 13, 2016 by Erin M. Klitzke

[This post is from Gray Miller’s point of view.]

Aoife spun to grab her pack. Gray shot to his feet to intercept her, his fingers closing around her wrist just in time to keep her outstretched fingers from wrapping around the strap. Her jaw tightened and her gaze snapped up to meet his.

“Let go, Gray.”

“Not until you calm down,” he murmured, gently turning her to face him. “I’m worried about you, Aoife.”

She groaned, titling her head back and squeezing her eyes shut. “Not you, too.”

“Hey, none of that.” He reached up to tug at her chin until she looked at him again. Her eyes were bright with the tears she was fighting to hold back. “I’ve stood with you through a lot of shit already, Aoife,” he murmured. “We both know that. I’ve gone out on a limb and believed you when I didn’t have to, I walked away from my friends to follow you because I couldn’t let you come here alone. I’ve always stood with you, so don’t start this now. I just want to understand what you’re doing and why, Aoife, and I want you to be safe while you’re doing it.”

“Sometimes you can’t be safe,” she countered. “Sometimes you have to just…just do it. Bite the bullet and rush in headlong and pray you make it out the other side.”

Gray shook his head slowly. “This doesn’t make sense, Aoife.”

“We do anything for family,” she whispered. Gray stiffened.

“Aoife, your family’s asking you not to go!”

“They’re just afraid,” she whispered. “And why shouldn’t they be? She’s an ancient witch who’s done nothing but hurt and hunt us for thousands of years. Of course they’d be afraid—I’m afraid. I’m not going to say that I’m not because I am. Why do you think I’m doing this? This is our chance to stop her so we can all stop being afraid. She’s distracted—at least I hope she is. This might be our only chance to stop the cycle. That’s all I want. I want to stop the cycle.”

“What if one doesn’t exist, Aoife? What if it’s all in your head?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and he wrapped his arms around her as she began to cry.

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Thirty-four – 01

Posted on June 10, 2016 by Erin M. Klitzke

[This post is from Gray Miller’s point of view.]

“They’re going to try to stop us and I can’t let that happen.”

Sitting on the cot in the quarters they’d been given for the duration of their stay, Gray watched Aoife stuffing things into her backpack, his frown only deepening as he watched her, listened to her. He hadn’t been entirely sold on the idea in the first place and the resistance everyone else was displaying was starting to tell him that his instincts had been correct.

“She won’t stop,” Aoife said, continuing to pace, her boots echoing softly on the wood. “She won’t stop just because she’s gotten her claws into Marin’s brother. Why can’t they understand that? How does that not make sense to them?”

“Why would she take Marin’s brother?” Gray asked, hoping to avert another tirade that might—probably would—end in frustrated tears. “I mean, there had to be a reason, right, and it doesn’t seem like it was to trade him for someone else.”

Aoife stopped, staring at the wall in front of her, her lips thinning. A raspy breath escaped her a second before she shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. I wish I did. Marin’s brother—he was someone else before, in a past life. I don’t know if I’ve told you about the Imbolg and the Ridden Druid, though.”

“I’m guessing that’s why she’d want him, then? Because of who he used to be?” Gray frowned, leaning back. “What do you know about it?”

“Nothing,” she said, her voice edging toward the breaking point. “It doesn’t make sense unless she’s somehow biding her time and lulling us into a false sense of security. It wouldn’t be the first time.   She always comes back, though—she always comes after them again and it’s never good when she does.” Aoife squeezed her eyes shut and Gray could see the tears on her face. “I have to stop the cycle, Gray. Seems like no one else has the guts to do it, so I’m going to have to do it myself.”

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Thirty-three – 07

Posted on June 8, 2016 by Erin M. Klitzke

[This post is from Marin’s point of view.]

“Whoa, Marin. You look like you’re about to throw up on my shoes.” Cameron blinked, then shook himself. “Oh. Oh, that’s—it’s not what you think.”

“You just said you had to leave,” I blurted. “What the hell else is that supposed to sound like?”

“It sure as hell didn’t mean what it sounded like.” His lips thinned. “I’m sorry.” He glanced from me toward Thom, J.T., Seamus, and Leinth. “All I meant is that someone has to go back south on a trading run and I’m volunteering. We’ve left them waiting for us for too damned long with everything that’s been going on. Someone needs to go down there and make sure that they’re still alive and show them that we’re still alive. I don’t know if they’ll be worried, but they might be. We’re the only friends they’ve got right now.”

I sucked in a breath, my stomach starting to settle. I knuckled my eyes, leaning back into Thom, who wrapped his arm tightly around me. “So you’re thinking to go down there alone? To do what?”

“Talk,” he said. “Trade? That kind of thing.”

“Right,” I said slowly, chewing hard on my lower lip.

Why do I have such a bad feeling about this?

Thom’s arm tightened around my shoulders a little more. “You can’t go alone,” he said.

“You’re not going with me.” Cameron took a deep breath. “And honestly, I’d be curious to know who you’d intend to send along with me on this trip if I don’t go alone. I mean—it’s not like anything will come after me if it’s just me, right?”

“Do you really want to take that chance?” Seamus asked, his brow furrowing. “I know I don’t, not with your life. We’ll send someone with you. Maybe someone from the Wild Hunt.”

“No,” Leinth said softly. “No, I’ll go with him.”

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Thirty-three – 06

Posted on June 6, 2016 by Erin M. Klitzke

[This post is from Marin’s point of view.]

Thom looked up around the time I was coming down the hill toward the barrow. Even at a distance, I could tell that his brows had knit together in confusion. He moved away from the others, coming toward me, meeting us halfway between the path and the barrow.

“What’s the matter?” were the first words out of his mouth.

I shook my head, closing my eyes for a moment. I’ll tell him about Aoife’s ridiculousness later. “Cameron needed to talk to both of us.”

Thom frowned a little more, looking past me toward Cameron and Neve. “About what?”

“Is something wrong?” Leinth called from the barrow, already starting to move toward us.

Seamus lifted a hand to wave to her and I watched a relieved smile blossom on her face. I swallowed hard, hoping that whatever Cameron and Neve had to say wasn’t going to take that smile away from her. She and Seamus hadn’t gotten enough time these past few months to really be together, to reacquaint themselves and remember what they’d lost—and rediscover what they had again.

“No, no, nothing’s wrong,” Cameron said as Leinth and J.T. climbed the hill to join us where we stood. “I just wanted to talk to you guys as a collective instead of one at a time.”

Thom’s frown didn’t waver, but his brow arched slightly. “But nothing’s wrong?”

Cameron shook his head. “Not really, anyway. I just—Neve and I were talking.”

Thom slid an arm around my shoulders, squeezing me close to him. My lips thinned and my heart began to beat a little faster.

Those words shouldn’t fill me with dread the way they do. Shit.

“Just spit it out, Cameron,” I said. “Whatever it is, just say it before we jump to the worst possible conclusions.”

Cameron took a deep breath and nodded. “Right. I need to go.”

My stomach dropped to the ground.

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Thirty-three – 05

Posted on June 3, 2016 by Erin M. Klitzke

[This post is from Marin’s point of view.]

“Marin, can I—is this a bad time?”

I took a deep breath and looked toward Cameron and Neve, whose approach slowed as they got a good look at Seamus and I. I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, massaging my temple.

Regardless of everything else, you’re still one of two people that are actually in charge around here. I gave Seamus a tight smile, then turned back to Cameron and Neve. “No, it’s fine,” I said. “What’s the matter?”

“We just needed to talk to you and Thom, that’s all,” Cameron said, his hand tightening around Neve’s. “It’s kind of important.”

“if it’s about what Aoife’s planning to do, you don’t have to tell me, I already know that she wants to go off and murder the Hecate and bring my brother back, assuming she doesn’t decide that he’s the enemy too.”

Neve blinked. “My cousin wants to do what?”

I shook my head quickly. “Never mind. What did you need to talk to me about, if it’s not that?”

Cameron and Neve exchanged a look, then Cameron took a deep breath. “It’s probably better if we talk to you and Thom at the same time.”

Why does that make me nervous? I frowned, but nodded. “Okay. If you don’t want to tell me without him, that’s fine. Let’s go find him and then we can talk.”

“I saw him heading out to the barrows with Jameson,” Seamus said quietly. “Leinth was going to meet them out there.”

I took a quiet breath and nodded. “Right, then. That’s where we’ll go.”

I moved the kettle a little further from the flames, abandoning all thoughts of the mug of tea I’d been hoping for before Hurricane Aoife had arrived and shattered that plan. Just thinking about what she wanted to do was enough to make a dull throb rise in my temples and behind my eyes.

If Matt gets hurt and she’s the cause, I’m never going to forgive her. I don’t know what I’ll do to her, but something’s going to happen—I don’t care whose sister she is and if Phelan approves or not. He’s my brother and she’ll have done something we all told her not to do.

We’ve exiled people for that before and we’ll do it again if we have to.

I just hoped against hope that it wasn’t going to come to that.

“Come on,” I muttered, already starting to walk away. “Let’s go find them.”

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