Sif swore softly under her breath, her gaze drifting toward Thom and I. “And you two are…? Truly?”
“So the dreams and visions indicate,” I said with a faint smile. “Sometimes more welcome than others. The insights help, though.” Most of the time, anyway.
Thom frowned slightly. “Why did you call him the Ridden Druid?”
“Because that’s who Ciar mac Dúbhshláin was,” Sif said, blinking at him. “You’re—and you don’t—?”
“He doesn’t remember as often,” I said quietly. “He sees the future more often than the past.”
Thom winced but didn’t disagree. “So why is that who he was?”
“An accident,” Neve said with a wry smile. “He visited a shrine to Cernunnos at the wrong time and ended up possessed by the Stag God. Brighid chased him all over the known world and parts unknown as well. She loved no one as well as she loved her brother—not even Finn.”
Thom and I exchanged a look. I glanced away first, blushing. Well, it’s good to know that time changes some things, at least. “Is that how he ended up going blind?” I asked.
Neve blinked at me. “I didn’t realize you’d seen—”
“I’ve seen a lot,” I said. “Bits and snatches, enough to know that he at least looked like he was blind and that her—my—her wolf became his wolfhound.”
“Mm.” Neve’s gaze drifted toward the fire. “No one can be possessed by something like Cernunnos and emerge from the experience unscathed and whole. He paid the price just like others before and since.”
I winced.
I don’t want to know. I hope I never have to find out what that’s like.
A sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach and I looked away. Hopefully, paranoia was all it was. Sometimes, we had to get lucky.
Sometimes.
