“He’s right, you know,” Thordin said after a moment’s consideration. “We probably need to let them know that something’s possibly about to happen. If we don’t, they’ll just be angrier than wet hornets.”
“Nothing is about to happen!” Thom protested, not quite flinging the sword he was sharpening into a corner. “There’s nothing coming. Nothing’s going to go sideways. We’re just paranoid because we’re in a constant state of waiting for the other shoe to drop. A fucking goddess of winter and death showing up with an ominous warning means nothing.”
Thordin arched a brow and glanced at Cameron, who winced and looked away. J.T. just groaned, slumping onto a stool and burying his face in his hands.
“I was happier not knowing,” the paramedic said. “I was absolutely happier not knowing. Total fucking bliss.”
“Oh knock it off,” Thom growled. “We don’t have anything to worry about. If there was something to worry about, Cariocecus would be here trying to warn us and Phelan would be crawling out of his damned skin and neither’s happening. Everything’s fine.”
“You sound incredibly confident,” Thordin said as he pumped the bellows and checked the half-formed hunk of metal Matt had left in the cherry-red coals. “Got a reason for it?”
“Bad feelings aside, I haven’t seen anything lately,” Thom said, his tone dry. “Sometimes, a storm’s just a storm and a bad feeling’s nothing to get bent out of shape over.”
“Sometimes,” J.T. said wryly, “but with us? That doesn’t happen often.”
“We have to bloody well hope that’s the case this time,” Thom said as he reclaimed his whetstone, flung aside during his brief outburst. “And we have to find a way to convince the girl that there’s nothing going on.”
“And if they’ve got bad feelings and have seen things?” Thordin asked softly. “What then?”
Thom grimaced. “Then we brace for the fucking worst and hope for the best. What else can we do?”
What else indeed.
