[This post is from Marin’s point of view.]
As the first rays of dawn kissed the ruined buildings and the trees, I went to my brother’s door. My son had finally fallen asleep, but I hadn’t put him to bed, instead keeping him with me. In truth, that was partly for me because holding him was comforting but also a bit for him and Thom, since I was afraid that if I set him down, he would wake up.
Everything was quiet. Cameron had gone to bed after the first hour. He promised me he would tell Thom and everyone else in the morning so I wouldn’t have to.
I had the harder part of the task anyway.
There was no hesitation before I knocked, I’d worked all of the anticipation out of my system before coming. Silence met me and I waited for a few moments, allowing what I thought was enough time for Matt to get out of bed in case I’d woken him. I probably had.
I had to knock and wait a second time before Matt opened the door and peeked out, blinking blearily at me.
“Mar? What time is it?”
“Ridiculously early, but this can’t wait.”
His brow furrowed and he opened the door a little wider, starting to step outside. I shook my head.
“I need to talk to both of you,” I said.
Blood drained from his face and he stood there staring at me, lips parted as if to speak, but no sound came out.
“Matt.”
He jerked at the sound of the voice behind him, twisting to look back over his shoulder, back toward the bed. “It’s Marin.”
I could hear the bed creak and my brother abruptly abandoned the door, heading back inside. I waited only a bare second before I slipped in behind him.
“It’s all right, lie back down,” Matt murmured. “Whatever it is can wait a little longer.”
“The look on her face says otherwise.” Hecate gazed at me from the bed, her eyes holding mine. She was gaunt, almost frail-looking, swaying slightly as she fought to sit up even as my brother tried to ease her back down to the pillows and tangled covers. A little blood was seeping onto the old T-shirt she was sleeping in; either she’d ripped some stitches or the wound was worse than I’d been told. Two pairs of thin braids held otherwise wild hair back from her pale, heart-shaped face, her expression slack but somehow worried.
My breath caught for a moment. A memory surfaced, one that was not my own, a girl with her face staring at Cíar from a crowd, sadness and pain in her pale-eyed gaze. I as Brighíd had blinked and she was gone but somehow had that memory, that second, brief though it was, lingered in my soul strong enough for me to recall lifetimes later.
“I’m sorry about the circumstances,” I said quietly. “Usually I wouldn’t barge in like this.”
“Something bad’s happened,” Hecate said quietly. “Otherwise you would have let us sleep. What is it? What’s coming?”
“Nothing yet.” My gaze flicked toward Matt, who sank down onto the bed next to Hecate. I sucked in a breath and looked back to her. “But it’s only a matter of time before Leviathan shows up and demands your answer.”
I watched panic set in, what little color that was still in her face leeched away, her eyes growing wide. She groped for my brother, who wrapped his arms around her in a protective, sheltering embrace.
My heart ached.
This wasn’t what I wanted, what I’d hoped it would be. I’d hoped for better—for them, for all of us. It wasn’t fair.
But then, I’d begun to realize that life rarely was.
