“But the war—that didn’t happen, right?”
I smiled sadly, glancing sidelong at Carolyn. “It did,” I said softly. “Though not the way they wanted or expected.”
Neve inclined her head. “She’s right. The war did come. It was a terrible, bloody, brutal thing that ended in more of a stalemate for people like me and Leinth and Phelan than a victory for any side. It’s part of what made most of us leave—what made our elders come to that choice and drag the rest of us with them.”
Leinth shook her head, expression growing dark. “Those of us who weren’t killed or driven away, anyway.”
I might have reached out to her if I’d thought that she would have appreciated the gesture. I met her eye and she stared back at me, shaking her head slightly.
“Dark times,” she said. “Dark times then. Dark times again now. It’s a cycle.” Her eyes half-lidded. “War comes again. Perhaps this time, we’ll win.”
A shiver worked its way down my spine. I hoped she was right—I hoped we’d win if war came.
Of course, I hope that war never comes, but somehow I think we’ve spent nearly our full measure of luck already.
“They got him back, though, Carolyn,” Phelan said, as if to reassure my longtime friend. “It just took time to do it. Even after he was given over to the Wild Hunt, Brighíd and Finn found a way to bring him back to them.” He took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “It was before the end of the war, really, though nearer the end.”
Carolyn nodded. “You told that story once, about when you almost died. I remember him being there with you, sitting vigil over you as you slept, right?”
“Sleeping, comatose, whatever I was.” Phelan smiled faintly. “I’d done the same for him anyhow. I suppose he was just returning the favor.”
I really appreciate this back story to these people. It explains a lot of the questions I had in my head. It seems as if it is all coming together and yet, still on the verge of more battles.
Thanks for the update.