“I—” Marin stopped, her brow furrowing, then began again. “How can you be sure you’ll never know what happened to him? I mean, with everything that seems to keep popping out of the woodwork from Phelan’s sordid past, at least, couldn’t you hope to eventually find out something about what happened to Seamus?”
Neve sighed, shaking her head. “It seems to me that all of the people who might likely know something are probably dead right alongside him in centuries past. He went south on my father’s orders. I…we…” She broke off, exhaling a frustrated sigh. “There were always stories about what he was doing, what had happened to him, but you never knew which to believe. Then we got word that he’d been killed…”
Marin edged her chair closer and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the edge of the bed. “Did they send proof?”
“His sword and his signet,” Neve said. “And his mask.”
“You know, I was going to ask about those. I saw Teague with one once, and then Phelan wore one when he married Thom and I. Are they significant somehow?”
Neve nodded slightly, feeling her stomach give an uncomfortable twist. “Yeah. Just a little.”
Understatement of the millennium right there.
Marin smiled wryly. “You’re hoping I won’t ask how.”
Neve smiled back. “Nice to know we understand each other.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Marin said, smiling faintly. “But I’m still going to ask.”
“I figured that you would.” Neve rolled onto her back with a slight wince. “You’re too curious for your own good.”
“I figure that eventually it’s either going to pay off or get us all killed. Is asking about the masks going to get us all killed?”
“Not likely.” Neve sighed and stared at the ceiling. “They’re symbolic. Each one, its colors, the style, the symbols painted on them—they’re unique to the wearer.” She shook her head slightly. “We each have one. Losing it…losing it isn’t an option. They’re typically returned to the closest surviving relative upon our deaths, if they can be located. Otherwise, they’re buried with us.”
Marin’s nose wrinkled, but she leaned back and didn’t press for more details.
Thank the gods for small favors.
“I can tell you all miss him,” she said after a moment. “The way you talk about him. The look all of you get when you do. I can only imagine how awful it must have been—to not know for such a long time and ten all of a sudden be told that he’s dead and you’ll never see him again.” Marin shivered. “If it were Matt, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“Teague took it the hardest,” Neve said softly, slowly rolling onto her side again. “He always blamed himself. Father blamed him, too. I think that was the harder burden to bear, really. Father blaming him for Seamus’s death.”
There was a time I never thought I’d see Teague smile again, especially after she was gone and Seamus was dead and it was all coming apart…
“It’s always been hard,” she whispered. “But half the time we don’t even dare talk to each other about it because all of us have such burdens to bear already. It just doesn’t seem fair.”
“It doesn’t seem fair that you can’t talk to each other about them,” Marin said, leaning forward again.
“You’re right,” Neve said. “It doesn’t seem fair. But that’s how it’s been for a long, long time.”
Teague was trying to bridge that gap before you left. I wonder how closely he and Phelan had been working with each other before everything fell apart, before the world ended. She closed her eyes for a moment. She’d have to ask Phelan.
“You okay, Neve?”
“Yeah,” she murmured. “Just thinking.”
“About anything important?”
Her lips quirked into a smile. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
We’ll see.
