Phelan\u2019s hand closed around Marin\u2019s arm. It was a rare thing to be sure, seeing her so oddly shaken by sudden conviction. She\u2019d gone abruptly pale, the blood draining from her face, and she seemed unsteady on her feet.<\/p>\n
What in the name of all the powers that be did she see\u2014and what is it that she suddenly can\u2019t remember?<\/em><\/p>\n His brows knit. I don\u2019t like this one bit.<\/em><\/p>\n It was far too soon.<\/p>\n He\u2019d spent too many of his long, aching years gathering stories and prophecies, trying to piece legends and lore together into a road map, a tapestry. That was his sacred duty as the Taliesin, like his cousin before him, their grandfather before them. The girl whose arm he held was special, had a destiny unlike others who had come before her. She was an integral thread. There were too many stories, too many legends, too many foretellings.<\/p>\n But it\u2019s too soon.<\/em><\/p>\n Phelan felt sick.<\/p>\n Anselm was saying something, but he didn\u2019t quite catch what it was. Mercifully, Neve intervened.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, a seat by your fire would be very welcome while we discuss this,\u201d his cousin said, tossing both he and Marin a concerned look before she trailed after Anselm toward his tent and cookfire.<\/p>\n Phelan hesitated for a moment and kept his voice low as he spoke to Marin. \u201cAre you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d she whispered. \u201cI think I\u2019m very not<\/em> okay, but I don\u2019t think it matters, either.\u201d She sucked in a breath and drew herself up a little straighter. \u201cCome on. Can\u2019t keep them waiting on us, right?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRight,\u201d Phelan muttered, frowning. \u201cThat\u2019d be a bad thing.\u201d<\/p>\n Marin\u2019s hand found his and squeezed. She gave him a brave smile, but he knew her well enough to recognize the fear in her eyes, the slight tremor in her jaw.<\/p>\n Just keep your shit together for the moment and we\u2019ll figure it out later. We always seem to.<\/em><\/p>\n They followed in Anselm and Neve\u2019s wake.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Phelan\u2019s hand closed around Marin\u2019s arm. It was a rare thing to be sure, seeing her so oddly shaken by sudden conviction. She\u2019d gone abruptly pale, the blood draining from her face, and she seemed unsteady on her feet. What … Continue reading