Phelan\u2019s boots crunched against the gravel of the path, his arms crossed tightly against his chest, one hand still locked around his staff\u2019s midpoint. A thousand scenarios ran through his head, leaving his skull aching and his stomach sour. The wait, he was more than half certain, was going to kill him outright.<\/p>\n
\u201cSettle down, Wanderer,\u201d Sif growled, standing next to Anselm with one hand resting on the hilt of the sword at her hip. \u201cYour fretting isn\u2019t going to make them get here any faster.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not fretting,\u201d Phelan said, fighting to keep his voice even. \u201cI\u2019m\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPacing,\u201d Anselm supplied helpfully, watching Phelan stop dead in his tracks and glare at both of them. Anselm shook his head slightly. \u201cShe\u2019s right, of course. They\u2019ll be here soon enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAlready taking too bloody long,\u201d Phelan muttered, turning away, eyes scanning the treeline. He didn\u2019t like the idea of them coming up through the ravines, but if they\u2019d been found on the river, then there really wasn\u2019t a better choice. The Wild Hunt had spent the past few weeks scouting those trails, even before the weather had broken, and started setting patrols. The patrols had probably been a good idea, even if the idea of someone wandering those ravines left Phelan uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
His eyes slid closed for a moment. He could feel the lines out there, feel the nexuses, light and dark and every shade of gray in between. They were still there, right where they\u2019d been the last time he\u2019d tried to sense their location.<\/p>\n
That was a relief, at least.<\/p>\n
\u201cPhelan?\u201d<\/p>\n
Blinking, he turned toward Sif, frowning slightly. \u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were just\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNever mind,\u201d she said softly. \u201cAnselm said they\u2019re close.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood,\u201d Phelan murmured, turning back to the trees. \u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n
I hope it\u2019s her. Gods and monsters, I want it to be her.<\/em><\/p>\n It would be good to see his sister again, even if she was probably going to punch him on arrival. He probably deserved it.<\/p>\n After all, he usually did.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Phelan\u2019s boots crunched against the gravel of the path, his arms crossed tightly against his chest, one hand still locked around his staff\u2019s midpoint. A thousand scenarios ran through his head, leaving his skull aching and his stomach sour. The … Continue reading