Twenty – 04

Silence answered her call. Aoife held her breath, she and Gray both staring at the trees, looking out for any sign of movement, any hint of life.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Gray murmured, gaze slanting toward her for a bare moment. Aoife grimaced, hands tightening around the tiller.

I really wish I didn’t.

“Just hold here,” she said quietly. “Don’t try to run. Hold position.”

The only sounds they heard were the birds and the water and the faint whisper of the wind through the branches above them. Aoife chewed her lip, leaving it to Gray to keep them in place. He seemed disinclined to drop their anchor, instead quietly manipulating their sails to keep them in one spot.

“I don’t like it,” he said. “This feels wrong, Aoife. I think we should go.”

“Just a few more minutes,” she said, eyes still searching the winter woods, clogged with brush along the river’s bank. “Just give it a few more minutes. They might have sent someone.”

“Or they may be getting ready to attack us.”

Aoife gave him a sharp look and Gray sighed quietly.

“You’re the one who told me that your brother has a bad habit of making enemies, Aoife. I’m just pointing out that maybe we’ve run into a situation where he’s made some here and they’re organizing to cut us down where we stand.”

She shook her head hard. “No. No, I can’t believe that’s the case. The sense of him is much too close, Gray. This has to be the right place. I know it is—it must be.”

Please. Please, I can’t have gambled wrong.

Something rustled in the brush along the shore. Both of them held their breath. A slim, dark-haired man eased into view, leaves and other natural debris clinging to his sweater, mud staining his boots and his drab pants.

“There’s a landing further on,” he called, pointing. “Moor your boat there and come ashore. We’ll bring you to the Wanderer but be forewarned. Should you be lying, should you mean him ill, you’ll die where you stand faster than you can blink.”

Aoife and Gray exchanged a look. His lips thinned. She nodded.

“Do as he says, Gray,” she whispered.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Gray turned to his task. Aoife, shaking in relief, slowly knelt down in the bottom of the boat.

She had no doubt the man had meant the threat he’d voiced. That didn’t matter.

Phelan must have been here—and they would be together again soon.

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