\u201cWho are they?\u201d Gray murmured as they gathered their packs in preparation to climb out of the boat and onto the weathered but solid dock alongside the river. An old shack perched near the river\u2019s edge, the fading paint showing a set of crossed oars and the name of a place\u2014this place, unless Aoife missed her guess.<\/p>\n
Men stood on the dock, armed with swords and spears and truncheons, but two carried shotguns while a third perched on the roof of the shack, a bow in his hands. Aoife took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, keeping her voice soft enough to hopefully<\/em> not be overheard.<\/p>\n \u201cI think they\u2019re the Wild Hunt.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe Wild Hunt,\u201d Gray echoed, a faint note of incredulity to his voice. \u201cAs in the<\/em> Wild Hunt. Harbingers of doom. Fae and dead men who can\u2019t find their rest doomed to ride for all eternity.\u201d<\/p>\n She winced. \u201cIt\u2019s a little more complicated than that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReally.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d she said, twisting to face him. \u201cIt is. I\u2019ll explain later if I have to, but right now\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Gray sighed. \u201cI know. Your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n Aoife nodded firmly before turning and haling herself unassisted up onto the dock. Gray handed their packs up to her before pulling himself onto the docks.<\/p>\n Their welcoming committee watched them in silence, their weapons casually ready, is if the stance was as natural as breathing.<\/p>\n Aoife\u2019s jaw tightened. If they <\/em>are the Wild Hunt, then being ready to use those weapons <\/em>is second nature to every single one of them.<\/em><\/p>\n If they really were the Wild Hunt, though, why were they here of all places?<\/p>\n Unless…<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cD\u00e9ithe agus arrachtaigh<\/em>,\u201d she breathed. She seized the arm of the nearest of them. His brethren tensed, but the man just looked at Aoife, brow arching over one dark eye in eloquent, silent question.<\/p>\n \u201cSeamus the Black,\u201d she said, throat tight, as if her question was trying to strangle her. \u201cIs he alive?\u201d<\/p>\n The man stared at her for a long moment before he gently removed her hand from his arm.<\/p>\n \u201cThat question will be answered at the Wanderer\u2019s discretion.\u201d<\/p>\n Her heart gave a strange double-beat, her nerves jangling.<\/p>\n What did we just walk into? Why are they here? How does\u2014why would\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n Gray\u2019s hand found hers and squeezed.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019ll be okay,\u201d he whispered. \u201cI promise.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s my line,\u201d she said softly. Then she smiled. \u201cThanks, Gray.\u201d<\/p>\n He kissed her cheek. \u201cAnytime.\u201d<\/p>\n One of the men cleared his throat and nodded to a narrow trackway up the side of a steep slope.<\/p>\n \u201cThis way.\u201d<\/p>\n Steeling herself, Aoife shouldered her pack, took a deep breath, and started to climb.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cWho are they?\u201d Gray murmured as they gathered their packs in preparation to climb out of the boat and onto the weathered but solid dock alongside the river. An old shack perched near the river\u2019s edge, the fading paint showing … Continue reading