[This post is from Phelan’s point of view.]
Phelan’s shirt was soaked through by the time he made it to the wall, his fingers wrapped tightly around his staff. Something tickled at the back of his mind, something dark and dangerous, and he had to keep forcing it back, keep bottling it up. He was half certain it was Thesan, trying her tricks once again.
If it was something else, he wasn’t certain what it was, but he knew that it scared him.
Jacqueline was the first to spot him and was—of course—the first to try to stop his advance. She ducked away from her spot beneath the watchtower, her eyes wide and her expression pinched with anger and concern. “What the hell are you doing here?” she hissed as she grasped his soaking wet sleeve. “You’re supposed to be below where it’s safe. You can’t do any good up here after what happened.”
“On the contrary, I think this is exactly where I need to be,” he murmured, looking past her to the wall. His gaze fastened on Matt and he exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, briefly feeling like he’d been gut-punched.
Eriú was right. Marin was right, J.T. was right—they were all right.
“She brought him back.”
Jacqueline grimaced, following his gaze for a moment before she tugged him out of the rain, back to her spot under the watchtower where it was at least dry. Thunder growled, low and close, and lightning crackled from cloud to cloud above. “If you’re talking about Matt, we don’t know how he got back.”
He finally looked at her, his gaze growing hard for a moment. “Mo croi, don’t lie to me,” he murmured. “We know who brought him home, it’s just hard to believe that she did it.”
“Why would she do it, Phelan?” her voice was little more than a whisper as she stepped close, her gaze intense and like granite—hard and perhaps a little cold. “Why would she do anything for us? I thought she wanted to kill you.”
“So did I,” Phelan murmured, then shook his head. “I have to hope she doesn’t anymore, but I don’t think I’ll get to find that out until after this is over.” He leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Which means that we need the tide to turn.”
A bolt of lightning left him momentarily dazzled, followed by a thunder crack so loud he felt it in his bones. Phelan cursed softly under his breath, turning toward the wall. He could see Matt starting to strand up at his perch, could see Thordin reaching to pull the other man back down.
Whatever’s going on out there, shit just got real.
He pulled his arm from Jacqueline’s grip and headed for the wall.
