“Wandered off, has he, like the Wanderer he is?”
J.T. grimaced at the way Marin’s fingers suddenly bunched around the staff in her hands. He put a gloved hand on her arm and squeezed gently.
They’d known he was gone within hours of his departure. It had taken a few hours more before Thordin, Thom, Jacqueline, and Rory were kitted and ready to leave the settlement to chase down Phelan. They hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Cariocecus in weeks before that, probably because things were quiet.
And now he suddenly shows up two days after Phelan decides to make his exit. Coincidence? I doubt it.
“Have you come to gloat, or did you come with useful information?” Marin asked, her voice and expression just barely on the civil side of a snarl.
Cariocecus tsked softly and shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of gloating. The Wanderer is part of the reason I was largely safe hiding here in your vicinity.” His expression grew somber. “They’re gaining on him, but I don’t think they’ll reach him before his enemies do.”
“Beg your pardon?” Marin turned to look at him square, her eyes narrowing. “Who’s after him now?”
“Who isn’t?” J.T. scuffed a toe against the snow beneath his feet, grimacing. I shouldn’t have agreed to this plan. We should have tied him to his godsdamned bed. “Seems like that might be the shorter list.”
Cariocecus inclined his head. “Perhaps. But I’m afraid in this case I’m talking about awful things that are covered in fur three quarters of the time.”
“Skinchangers.” J.T. grimaced, making eye contact with Marin, who shuddered visibly.
“We just have to hope they somehow dodge them,” she said, her voice heavy with doubt. “He’s dodged them in the past, right?”
“I imagine he must have,” Cariocecus said. “But I think he had someplace to run to, then.” He made a vague gesture that won a grimace from J.T.
He’s implying that the way Phelan managed to dodge was to go back to Tir na Nog or wherever the hell his people retreated to. Fuck me. “We have to find a way to warn them, Mar,” he said with a grimace.
“How do you suggest we do that?” Her brow furrowed. “I sure as hell don’t have a way.”
“Phelan can see the ghosts,” J.T. said doubtfully. “Maybe…”
“I’ll go,” Cameron said from behind them. “I know how to ride in this kind of weather and they’ve only got two days lead. I can catch up to them.”
“Neve will kill us,” Marin said.
“She’ll understand,” Cameron said softly. “It feels like something I’ve got to do.”
“Go,” she said, then glanced at J.T. “And you try to send a ghost to warn Phelan, if it’s possible.”
“I’ll see if I can convince Ériu,” he said, stomach sinking.
If I can convince her, she might be the only chance he’s got.
