“So let me get this straight. She said that she did what we hoped she didn’t do and now we don’t know where the missing piece—or pieces—of Phelan are. Do I have that right?”
“Basically,” Neve said, her jaw tight and her eyes worried. “Marin, I’m not sure where we go from here.”
I grimaced, standing up. “I assume that Seamus tried to get it out of her and she wasn’t budging?”
“She claims she doesn’t know,” Neve said, glancing back over her shoulder toward the white world beyond the tent. “I was pretty sure that Jacqueline was going to break her in half after she said that. Seamus is trying to calm her down right now.”
Well, if anyone’s got a chance, I’m thinking it would be him—maybe. I exhaled. What the hell are we going to do? “I need J.T.”
“Why?”
“Because right now, he’s the only one of us who actively sees ghosts, Neve.” I shot her a tight smile and grabbed my jacket as I headed out into the snow. “And the fragments of Phelan’s…whatever the hell we’re calling it…are probably pretty close to that.”
She grimaced, hurrying after me. “I guess. Shit, Marin. I don’t know what to do.”
“He makes it through this, Neve,” I said, jaw tightening. He must. I’ve seen him. He has to make it through this.
But does he make it through this whole?
I thought of the memories I had that belonged to Brighid, the memories of her brother, the pain that she felt and the guilt that she carried after he’d been sundered and then put back together again. What had happened to him hadn’t been her fault, but she’d blamed herself–and he’d never been the same as he’d been before the sundering after he’d been restored to her.
We have to hope that won’t be the case.
I set my jaw and marched up the hill toward the forge and J.T.
