“How can you be so sure?” I asked, finally daring to meet Phelan’s gaze. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.
“Do you want a lie, or the truth?”
I laughed weakly and shook my head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“Probably not,” Phelan agreed, then smiled. “But regardless of how I know, it’s true. Matt knows what he’s doing.”
“I know he does,” I said, my throat tight. “I just worry, that’s all.”
He has to survive to watch over my son when Thom and I leave like we do—like we do in every vision I’ve had about it. Matt’s there. He’s there for Lin.
My eyes fluttered closed. Phelan squeezed my shoulder again.
“What is it?”
“Nothing and everything,” I murmured, then sighed, opening my eyes. “What do you think is out there?”
“Not sure yet,” he admitted. “But Leinth’s probably right. It doesn’t feel like the Hecate or the Grays to me, either.”
“So it’s something new,” I said.
“Or something old,” Phelan muttered. “Very, very old.”
He glanced back over his shoulder, toward the fire and the sheds beyond.
I shivered.
“Yours? Thordin’s?” I paused. “Neve’s.”
“Neve didn’t make many enemies,” Phelan said quietly.
“Many isn’t none,” I pointed out. I loosened my grip on the haft of my bow, realizing that my fingers had started to hurt.
I hadn’t heard another blast of the whistle since it had initially alerted us to something being wrong. My stomach felt suddenly hollow.
“I’m done waiting, Phelan.”
“Yeah.” He shifted his shoulders, letting his hand fall away from mine. “Yeah. It’s time.”
I hadn’t needed his permission, but something about knowing that I had his support made it even easier to square my shoulders and head for the gate, hoping against hope that whatever was out there was a far lesser threat than I feared.
