“Matt, I need to talk to you.”
“You can talk all you want if you’ll get on those bellows. Can’t promise I’ll hear half of what you’re saying.” Matt glanced toward J.T. , swiping a soot-stained sleeve across his forehead and leaving a smear of gray in its wake.
“I’ll talk loud,” J.T. said as he stepped around Matt’s anvil and quenching trough to take over pumping the bellows. “Since I need you to hear me.”
Matt’s brows knit and he paused before he picked up his hammer again. “What’s wrong?”
“Maybe nothing,” J.T. said, feeling his stomach give an uncomfortable somersault at what might have been a lie. “Do you remember anything about the life you lived as the druid?”
He paused, hammer poised to fall over the blade he was working on. His gaze was confused, almost haunted as he stared at J.T. for a long moment. “Why are you asking?”
J.T. closed his eyes for a moment. The smell metal and the forge filled his nostrils, feeling as soothing as a walk in the woods used to be, or the smell of the scene shop at the height of pre-production for a show.
I miss that too much. So much it hurts. He exhaled softly and opened his eyes again. “Phelan’s going to do something stupid. What you and Marin and Thom can remember of the lives you led then might be the key to making sure he doesn’t go off half-cocked now.”
“Where the hell is this coming from, Jay?”
“He’s talked about leaving, Matt. We can’t let that happen.”
Matt shuddered, then took a breath and resumed working. “No,” he said over the sound of his hammering. “No, we can’t let that happen.
“There have been dreams,” he said. “Dreams that maybe I had when I was a child and was never able to remember. They’ve been coming every night lately. I’ve only told Pippa. I haven’t even told my sister.
“I run through the woods. Something’s chasing me, but I’m more annoyed than afraid, but something’s not right. I shouldn’t be annoyed. There’s some part of me that’s terrified, something buried and subsumed. Someone’s calling my name that’s not my name and someone’s calling what’s not my name but has become my name.” He exhaled in a rush. “It doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“No,” J.T. said. “But I’m sure if you slow down, it might.” Or if I knew more about that existence, but I don’t. He frowned slightly. “Do you think you were the druid in the dream?”
“I know I was,” he said. “But I’m not sure what it all means. There are other dreams I’ve had, dreams where I’ve been with the two of them and a girl and others. They’re disjointed pieces of a life that doesn’t make sense.” He exhaled softly. “But I don’t remember Phelan. Not clearly.”
“Damn,” J.T. breathed.
“But I can try,” Matt said as he thrust his unfinished piece into the fire to heat again. “If it’s that important, I can try.”
