He didn’t know.
What could he tell them about any-fucking-thing?
Not a single thing, apparently.
He’d then rambled on about wonderful news and how the mountain and the trees were so happy to hear, and how the wind was singing a happy song because it had been such an age since any new gods were born.
Whatever the fuck that meant.
Sawyer couldn’t even bring himself to smile politely.
“Something on your mind, Sawyer?” Cern asked, smug as if he already knew the answer. Hell, maybe he did.
“I have concerns,” Sawyer replied.
Cern nodded slowly and put his pipe back in his mouth. “You considered keeping this news from me,” Cern said, giving Sawyer a sly smile.
“Yes,” Sawyer replied. “To keep Aurin and Salem safe. But then I figured you’d know all about it anyway. Like you’d known about Lusca, and like how you know my boss Hadeom well enough to have him on speed dial. Wanna explain how that works?” Sawyer hadn’t meant to sound so snappy, or so ungrateful, but fuuuuuuck. He was sick of the cryptic shit.
Ciaran shot Sawyer a look, but Cern only seemed to find this all amusing. “Ah, you humans are such fickle creatures.”
Fickle...
The god of wild things just called him fickle.
Ciaran, for a change, was being the level-headed one. “We’re just concerned, that’s all. We’re worried about them. Both Aurin and Salem. We consider Salem part of our consortium.”
“They’ll make good fathers,” Cern said. “The gentle ones always do.”
Gentle one. He’d called Aurin that before.
He wasn’t wrong, exactly, but...
“We’ll keep a close eye on them,” Cern said. He didn’t specify who thewewas that he was referring to, but Sawyer could guess he meant the faun folk. “They’ll be just fine.”
“And their offspring?” Ciaran asked.
Cern’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Oh, they’ll be just fine too.”
Sawyer had no idea what Cern could see. The future? Their fates? As ridiculous and as unlikely as that sounded, Sawyer had to concede it was possible.
And that just pissed him off too.
If Cern did know, if he could see, then why not help them by divulging the truth?
Sawyer was done with the bullshit games.
“Hadeom asked me for intel on Salem,” Sawyer said. “Just so you know. If he doesn’t actually know where or what he is, or if he’s testing me, I don’t know. Everything is top secret apparently.” He watched Cern for a reaction, and when there wasn’t one, Sawyer continued, “Given Salem’s kind have been hunted and all but eradicated, I will be telling Hadeom nothing. Even if Hadeom is on our side, which I’m not entirely sure he is, I won’t do anything to jeopardise Salem’s safety. Especially now.”
“Ah, the good inspector,” Cern said.
And then nothing.
“Yeah, the good inspector,” Sawyer murmured. “So, if or when he calls you—which I’m not even sure how that’s possible because there are no phone lines up here and the phone service here is non-existent, but that’s a conversation for a whole other day—please do us a favour and don’t mention Salem. Or Aurin, or basically anything to do with everything. That’d be great. Because, you know, I’m sure having direct descendants of the old gods in the Cove won’t attract the wrong kind of attention at all.”
Cern stared at Sawyer, and the wind whipped around them, angry and biting.
“Okay,” Ciaran said, taking Sawyer’s arm. “Thanks for your time, Cern. We appreciate it. We also appreciate you saving Salem and taking care of Aurin, but we’ll be off now.” He gave Sawyer a pointed glare as he dragged him back to the police cruiser.
