[This post is from Thom’s point of view.]
An hour past sunrise found Thom out at the wall, expression grim, pacing its length, searching for weaknesses, places he could improve on what they’d already worked so hard and spent so much time to build. It was their first line of defense, though, that wall, and if they were going to have to face Leviathan—or something worse—he wanted to be ready.
He had a family to think about, damn it all. He was going to be ready.
Seamus came to him out there, stood watching for a few long moments. Thom knew he was there. The why didn’t matter, though he knew that the older man wouldn’t keep his silence forever. Soon enough, he’d break the silence.
Until then, Thom was content to move up and down the wall with a small sketchpad and pencil in hand, sketching and jotting notes.
Shore up the wall at the north end. Needs repairs at eight meters. Add a blind at the fifteenth meter. Blind at the twenty-fifth meter. Signs of weakness at twenty-seven meters.
“A wall may not stop that bastard,” Seamus said at last. He stood with his hands in his pockets, squinting at Thom in the glare of the morning sun.
Thom grunted, tucking his pencil above his ear and stuffing the pad into his back pocket as he walked over to inspect a gouge in the concrete at thirty-one meters—not too far from the gate, now. “At least we’ll have a first line of defense,” he said.
Seamus made a quiet noise in his throat, lapsing into silence for another few moments as Thom continued down the wall. “What about the defenses on the back side of the village?”
“The ravine-side? We have choke points and rubble to stop him there,” Thom said, then turned. “Why?”
“The ravine and the wardings might not stop him,” Seamus said, his voice grim. “We can’t rely on those forever—or the Wild Hunt.”
A chill washed over Thom. “What do you mean?”
“Something isn’t right.”
Understatement of the century, there. Thom shook his head. “Tell me something I didn’t know.”
“This isn’t a fight we win with defenses or strength of arms, Thom.”
Then I don’t know how the hell we’re going to win it—luck isn’t going to save us this time, either, now is it?
“Defenses are all I’ve got,” Thom said bitterly, turning back to his work.
Seamus fell silent again. If he’d angered the Prince of the Aes Dana, Thom didn’t care.
He kept to his work, moving toward the gate.
Defenses and a stubborn streak—and a gift I can’t master, a gift I don’t fully understand—that’s all I’ve got to protect my family.
I’ll be damned if I can’t find a way to make that be enough. One way or another, it’s going to have to be enough. I don’t have anything else. Not now. Not yet.
Not yet.
