“Phelan’s coming.”
Thom winced slightly, glancing at his brother-in-law. “What’s he doing up this early in the morning?”
Matt shook his head. “You say that like it’s unusual. He’s usually up earlier than a lot of us.” He turned away from the forge’s doorway and met Thom’s troubled gaze. “Are you trying to avid him or something?”
“Not entirely,” Thom lied, looking down at the sketchpad in his lap. Only partially. He smoothed a bare hand over the paper, careful not to smear the lines of his sketch. “Though I’ll admit that I’m not in the mood for him to gently hint at wanting confirmation about some things.”
“You mean like my sister being pregnant?”
“Exactly like that.” Thom closed his eyes and flipped to a fresh page in his sketchbook, hiding the rough blueprints for a cradle.
“I’m going to regret asking this, but why is he so concerned with that happening, exactly? I know that he’s interested in it, but no one’s quite explained why.”
I’m not entirely sure I understand why—or that I really want to understand the parts I’m already aware of. Thom exhaled. “It starts some kind of cosmic timer or something that Phelan seems to think is coming on too fast.” I wish I didn’t agree with him about the goddamned timer part, either.
Matt shook his head as he sat down on an overturned bucket next to Thom and settled in to start wrapping the grip of one of the new swords with a strip of suede. “Well, whether you want to talk to him or not, he’s coming up here.”
“Yeah, I caught that.” Thom closed the sketchbook and set it aside, reaching for one of the finished swords and a whetstone.
Settle down. It could be something totally unrelated.
I don’t have much confidence that it is, but it could be.
“He might be here about J.T. or something.”
“Yeah, maybe.” The whetstone whispered against the still-dull edge of the blade. It’d take quite a bit of honing until the edge was as sharp as they’d need it before the next attack came—before their next hand to hand round with something ugly and dangerous from beyond their wards, possibly beyond their imagining.
That was one of the perils of surviving the apocalypse.
Phelan ducked into the forge a moment later and nodded to Matt in greeting before he turned his attention to Thom. “You should come down by the fire,” he said. “We need to talk. Honestly, both of you probably should. You’re both going to have to be part of this decision.”
“Decision?” Thom glanced up from the blade, brow furrowing. “What decision?”
The once-druid leaned in the doorway, studying both men. “Cariocecus made us an offer of peace.”
Because I’d trust an offer from the bleeding Shadow Man who almost killed us. Thom’s eyes narrowed. “Do you believe him?”
“I almost wish I didn’t,” Phelan said. He shook his head slightly. “But with everything happening right now—everything changing so fast—I can see how and why he’d make the offer.” His lips thinned. “It could bode well for us if we make the deal.”
“How do you figure?” Matt asked.
“Well, I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I haven’t forgotten that there’s a trio of Scandinavian bitch goddesses that’re gunning for me because I killed their sister.”
At lease we hope you killed their sister. Thom winced. He hadn’t forgotten—not quite—no matter how much he might have wanted to. “And then there’s the new one.”
Phelan nodded. “The new one could be worse than them, but the jury’s still out.”
“I imagine you’ll let us know if we actually have something to worry about,” Thom said, setting aside the sword and whetstone, standing and stretching.
“You know I would.”
“Good,” Thom said with a firm nod. “Have you told Marin yet?”
“Before I told the two of you.”
Thom nodded. Then she’s already forming her own opinion. “How long do we have?”
“Until tomorrow.”
It won’t take that long to decide. “All right. Let’s get some breakfast and we can discuss this—figure out what’s best for everyone.”
Phelan managed to smile. “You’re taking this remarkably well.”
Thom shrugged. “It doesn’t make sense for me to flip out over everything. Just the important things. This ranks somewhere just below that. Come on. Let’s go eat.”
The three of them headed back down to the cookfires together.
Hahahaha.
This is sensible. Flipping out takes energy better used elsewhere.