‘How about your bracelet? Where do you think you got it from?’ She nodded with her chin to the rope-like bracelet he’d worn for as long as he could remember. It was woven leather around a torc-like band of gold, and something rebelled in him every time he took it off, encouraging him to put it back on as soon as he could.
When he’d tried to remember the provenance of it, he could never recall.
‘Scáthach gave that to you as a protective charm.’ There was a fraction of vulnerability in her eyes then, but she seemed to gloss over it, the long white hair down her back shifting.
He frowned. If it was true, why would she have made him forget?
The more important question was, ‘If you’ve known who I am and where I’ve been, why are you telling me this now?’ Kyan asked.
A weariness ghosted through her eyes as another smile did her mouth. ‘Why now, brother? Because a war is upon us. And not only are you two at the crux of it, but so am I, and so is your Siren friend—’
‘How do you know about Remi?’ Nicole cut in.
‘Oh, I know a great deal about her and her family. They come from ancient stock, and they are just as valuable to the Wake as I am, and as you two are. As for why now, you tell me.’
‘The Wake are hunting you,’ Kyan said.
She made a thoughtful noise. ‘They’ve always been hunting me.’
‘Do they know who you’re supposed to be?’
Her eyes shaded with understanding. ‘I don’t know. I don’t see how. They just know I’m one of the last of our people, which is cruel enough. If they knew I was your sister …’
If they knew, then it was one more piece of evidence that the Wake didn’t care about him as a person, nor the fate of the world. They wanted power, and they’d got it.
By any means necessary.
They’d offered him a mission that meant he’d have killed his own sister and not realised.
‘That, however,’ the Druid said, ‘is not what I need to talk to you about.’
He felt Nicole tense in anticipation of worse news. What other ridiculous thing—
‘What do you know about the Wake, now?’ the Druid asked.
Nicole flicked a wary glance up at him.
‘The Wake aren’t creatures, nor powerful humans,’ he said.
The Druid nodded as if waiting for more. When they didn’t give it, she continued, ‘They’re the same beings that have been around long before our people, the ones who gave the order to have them massacred.
‘They’re the enemies of our Old Gods.
‘They’re the Fomóiri, Kyan.
‘The ruling leaders of the Wake are the Demon Gods of our ancient world.’
CHAPTER FIFTY
Dylan
DYLAN STEELED HIMSELF AS THEY ARRIVED ATTHE COTTAGEwhere their mother had been killed.
It was backed by dense woods. Once, it must have glowed with lamps and children’s laughter. The thought reached into his heart and squeezed, turned his palms clammy.
It didn’t have a wealth of flowers outside, nor much adornment. Just simple white stone – save for the black husk of a burned nursery on the upper right side that looked like some great hell beast had razed it with a flaming bite.
Even after all this time, the scent of burning was nearly overpowering.
