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“Quinn, I am truly sorry, but we must travel, now,” Dugald insists.
“Ach, he’s right, Quinn,” Moira says, her voice muffled by my hair.
Reluctantly I let her go and look at Dugald. I can’t read the look on his face; apprehensive, worried, and a hint of longing all thrown together.
“I thought—” I stop myself, unsure what I thought. I shake my head. “Never mind. Now is not the time.”
Siobhan, whom I’d mostly forgotten, is watching, and for the first time I see emotions on her face that look and feel genuine; a look of loss, almost anguish. The mists swirl around us, the chill in them increasing.
“Come,” Moira says, tugging my arm.
As I take the first step my head clears, the pull of the past fading as I move into the future. What was matters a lot less than what is and what will be. I follow Dugald, Moira at my side and Siobhan bringing up the rear. Every step forward the experience dims, the memories fade, and my attention moves out of my head.
There are strands of darkness marring the whiteness of the mists. Like threads of black, weaving itself into the fabric that forms them. The dark threads seem to be alive, working their way towards us but Dugald is aware and guides our steps to avoid them.
“Why is this taking so long?” I ask after we’ve walked for what must be an hour.
“The darkness is blocking the way,” Dugald says without looking back.
His voice is strained, and his shoulders are tense.
“I thought the joining of our magic would handle that,” I say.
“It opened the way, but it can’t clear it. We’re naethatstrong,” Moira says.
“She could be,” Siobhan says. “If she really is the Destroyer.”
“You do nae know that, Siobhan,” Moira snaps.
Siobhan sighs, but in an unusual twist for her doesn’t argue further.
“Here,” Dugald says and the mists that were swirling around my chest lower to my waist.
A few more steps and they are down to my ankles, then we step free into the Fae village I visited before. My breath catches in my chest the moment I can see.
The Tree of Life is almost dark.
ChapterTen
“About damn time,”a young voice says from behind me.
Glancing over my shoulder I have to look down to see the speaker. I recognize the Fae, having briefly met him the first time I came here. He looks like a young boy, though I doubt that is true. He has curly, reddish-brown hair, and a cherubic face covered in dirt and soot. His eyes are dull and haunted looking, and there is debris in his hair. Antlers emerge from the unruly mop just above his ears.
“Cernunnos,” Dugald acknowledge the Fae.
“Don’t use my name,” he snaps. “You don’t know who or what is listening.”
Dugald shrugs and strides past the Fae. Moira pauses, placing a hand on Cernunnos’s shoulder, then leans in and whispers. His cheeks flush and he nods, then wanders away. It’s a sweet moment between the two of them and I’m almost embarrassed to witness it.
Dugald is a way ahead, so Moira and I walk faster to catch up. As we almost do I notice that Siobhan is not with us. When I turn back, she’s still at the start of the trail. I can’t help but admire her ability to appear nonchalant and uninterested in the most unusual of circumstances. Wearing her elegant dress, her beauty a sharp contrast to the decay surrounding her, she seems completely comfortable and at home.
“Siobhan?” I call.
“Yes?” she asks, arching one eyebrow while inspecting her manicure.
“Are you coming?” I ask.
“I don’t think so,” she says.
