The silence was eerie as they reached Au Sable, the shadows thick amidst the debris as the sun slowly grew brighter in the east. Thom reached for his wife’s hand as she shouldered her bow and started to pick her way through the edges of the debris field.
“Mar,” he murmured.
She waved him off, eyes sparkling in the darkness. “I’ve got this.”
Thom grimaced. The hell you do. He cut left, toward the side of the building. “Did Au Sable have a basement? I don’t remember.”
“Stairwell down is over on this side, not that way.”
Thom grimaced, eyes narrowing slightly. Was that a flicker of movement somewhere ahead, closer to the trees?
Shit. Of course it had to be dark. Things can’t attack in daylight. That would make life too easy, wouldn’t it?
“Can you feel him, Seamus?”
Thom glanced back at Thordin’s question. The big man was studying Seamus carefully. Seamus’s eyes were distant, unfocused, his expression slack and face ghostly. Leinth gripped his arm, her expression almost stricken as she watched her lover.
“Seamus?” Leinth whispered, her voice barely audible.
The master of the Wild Hunt gave a violent shudder and blinked, returning to himself abruptly. “That way,” he said, pointing toward the trees, toward the ravine beyond Au Sable. “Hurry.”
Marin frowned, watching them in the dark. Then she gave an abrupt nod and unslung her bow, setting off through the knee-deep snow toward the ravine. Thom swore softly and jogged after her, waving for the others to keep up or be left behind.
I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Damnation, do I ever have a bad feeling about this.
There was another flicker of movement in the distance, near the trees. Thom’s breath caught in his throat, lips thinning as his heart began to thud painfully against his breast. More was wrong than Seamus had admitted to. The ghost of a vision flickered through his thoughts, ephemeral and vanishing before he could grasp it.
“Mar, be careful,” he said.
She glanced back over her shoulder at him and gave him a brave smile. “Always, sweetheart. Always.”