“Déithe agus arrachtaigh,” Neve breathed, eyes widening as she saw Thom and I. “Marin! How—when—is he with you?”
I wasn’t sure if she meant our son, her son, or her husband. Thom, though, appeared to know the answer and shook his head slowly.
“He’s not with us, Neve. We haven’t seen Cameron in years. Not since we left.”
Her gaze flicked toward me. “How long ago was that?”
“Five years,” I said softly. “I know, it’s been a long time.”
“Five years and you’ve not found him,” she said, looking away. I stumbled forward a step and grasped her arm. She caught me before I dropped to my knees.
Neve swore softly under her breath. “You haven’t found it yet, either,” she said, her eyes wide, bright with unshed tears.
“We hoped that you’d be able to help,” Thom said gently as he slid his arm around my shoulders to help me straighten again. “There was something that you told Mar once and something that Phelan said—”
“How is he?” Neve interrupted.
“Phelan?” I asked. “He’s…himself. He’s looking after him. After both of them.”
Neve nodded slowly. “Good. Good.” She stared at me for a moment, then nodded. “I think I know where to find what you’re seeking. It’s taken a long time to sort it out, but I think I finally know what it is.” She glanced down at her boots. “But…before we…before I show you the way, I’ve a favor to ask.”
“You want us to help you find Cameron,” I said quietly.
She met my gaze and nodded slowly. “Yes.”
Thom’s arm tightened around my shoulders. All he wanted was me well again so we could go home. He wouldn’t say no to Neve, though—he couldn’t.
As much as I wanted to see our son again, I couldn’t say no to her, either.
It’ll all work out the way it’s meant to be, Marin. Trust in that always.
“Of course we’ll help you find him,” I said. “We love him, too. We’ll do whatever it takes, and then we’ll all go home together.”
She hugged me breathless and all I could do was hug her back and pray, just pray, that all three of us knew what we were doing.
Phelan touched my arm and I snapped back to myself, fingers uncoiling from around the bucket’s handle as he coaxed it from my hand.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly as he set the bucket down next to the fire. “Or were you seeing something?”
I swallowed the bile that fought to rise in my throat and shivered. “I was seeing something,” I murmured, glancing around. There wasn’t another soul in sight, which surprised me. I’d been expecting Tala to be by the fire.
“She was getting some potatoes,” Phelan said. “She’s going to try to make a hash this morning.”
“Oh,” I said, silently grateful that I wouldn’t have to face her just yet on the heels of that vision. Somewhere in the back of my brain, I was aware of the memories of that future self of mine, fond memories of children playing in the fields beneath the walls, chasing each other and laughing—a girl and a boy that looked painfully like Tala, two more boys with them.
Tala’s. Mine and Neve’s? It seemed likely. Somewhere in the back of my brain, I knew they weren’t the only children, but they were the ones I thought of immediately. I swallowed, my throat dry. Phelan squeezed my arm.
“Sit down,” he said. “You’re pale as that snow out there. I’ll make you some tea.”
“Tala’ll get mad at you,” I said quietly as I obediently sat down near the fire. “She’s protective of her teakettles.”
“She won’t get mad at me,” he said. “Where’s Thomas?”
“He went to the forge,” I said. “He said he’d come down for breakfast, but he promised Matt that he’d take a whetstone to some of the blades up there, check to see if they’d take an edge.”
“I’ll get him after you’ve got some tea,” he said, filling one of the kettles and then digging some herbs from a leather pouch inside his jacket.
“Why? I’m fine.”
Phelan glared at me as if he could sense the lie without trying. All I could do was sigh and look away.
“Don’t tell him,” I said. “He’ll just worry.”
“Are you sure it’s not something worth worrying about?” Phelan asked.
I shook my head. “It’s nothing we can change anytime soon. Nothing to worry about yet.” Maybe nothing to worry about ever. “If you’re going to go get him, do it to tell him the news you gave me, not because I saw something that made me go seven shades of pale.”
“If you’re sure,” Phelan said.
“I’m sure.” As sure as I’ll ever be, anyway.
No sense in making him get all bent out of shape over things he can’t do anything about—that none of us can do anything about.
At least not yet.
