“She says he goes with us. None of us are getting a vote.”
Cameron frowned, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall next to the forge’s door. “Did she say why?”
“When the Morrigan gives a warning, you don’t argue with her, you just do what she says,” Phelan muttered, his gaze on the coals.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Cameron said, his gaze scything from Phelan to Thom and back again. “Why the hell would she be talking to Marin anyway?”
“She’s been looking out for Marin Astoris for a long time,” Phelan said softly, bowing his head. “Since before I knew her, honestly. She had a soft spot for Finn and Ciar and Brighíd, too, but that was a long time ago.” His voice grew quieter. “Halfway to forever, actually.”
Thom gasped his shoulder and Phelan looked up, smiling wryly.
“I’m all right, fear fiach, and we’ll be all right without him here.” Phelan glanced at Cameron. “I know that you two talked about him staying here to keep an eye on Neve, but let’s be honest about this. My cousin’s completely capable of taking care of herself, especially now that her leg’s nearly healed.”
“She’s pregnant,” Cameron said.
“Yeah, she’s pregnant, not an invalid,” Matt said, tossing his two cents into the pot for the first time in the last half hour. He slid the axe-head he’d been working on into the embers to heat and wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. “They’ll be fine, Cam. She’ll be fine. We’ll be fine, since I’m staying.”
Thom arched a brow. “You’ve decided, then?”
Matt nodded. “One of us does have to be here. Might as well be me—between Phelan and I, think we’ll keep things well in hand.”
“And J.T.,” Cameron added.
“No, he’s going with you, too,” Matt said, peering into the fire, watching the metal slowly grow brighter. “He and Carolyn talked about it, I guess, and decided that he should go along just in case.”
“Just in case of what?” Cameron asked.
Phelan snorted. “In case of disaster,” he said. “That’s what.”
