“What in blazes are you doing?”
“You wanted to talk,” Phelan snapped. “We’re going to go talk.”
His skin prickled slightly as they grew closer to the edge of the ravine and the lines of power that twisted below. Seamus stumbled and caught himself. There was a slight tremor in his voice as Seamus asked, “Where are you taking me, Phelan?”
“To the other side of the bridge,” Phelan said. “Toward the barrow.” He glared over his shoulder at Seamus. “I assume the stories about the Hunt are true. You feel the tuggings of the dead.”
Seamus sucked in a breath and nodded, jerking his arm free of Phelan’s hand just as they reached the near side of the bridge. “We can,” he said. “Though that’s not why we’ve come here.”
“Then why?” Phelan turned to face him, planting his staff between his feet in the snow. “Why did you come here now, Seamus? Why bring the Hunt here?”
“Something called us,” Seamus whispered. “I don’t always understand the call, but I know it when I feel it. We all do. Something called us here and it wasn’t the souls or whatnot that lay in the barrow you’re dragging me to.”
Phelan’s eyes narrowed. “You have to know that I hate the way that sounds.”
“You wouldn’t have been a worthy successor to me if you did.” Seamus smiled sadly and shook his head. “Lead on.”
Phelan inclined his head and turned, heading across the bridge. He paused at its apex, leaning against the rail and staring out into the darkness. Seamus stopped next to him, following his gaze.
“There’s power here,” Seamus whispered.
“There are two Seers here,” Phelan said. “The ones I was supposed to look for, the ones that presaged something greater and more terrible than anything we’d ever seen before.”
Seamus looked at him. “The harbingers.”
Phelan closed his eyes. “Neve is here, too.”
Seamus took a sharp breath. Phelan continued.
“You could have told us.”
“Albina betrayed me. Who knows what she would have done to protect herself, to stop anyone from learning the truth?”
Phelan turned to look at him in the dim. “Our blood runs together, Seamus, here in this place. Neve is here, I’m here, you’re here. Neve’s lover is of your blood by Leinth. The Seers…one is my blood, the other is Teague’s. There’s a Spiritweaver of a talent I’ve not seen in centuries and he’s Teague’s blood, too.
“If something drew you here, it must have been that. There’s a purpose to your coming and I only hope it’s not a violent one.”
Seamus shuddered. “I pray the same,” the leader of the Wild Hunt whispered into the night. “I pray the same.”
