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“We should know before his third year. Any later than that, he’ll need a Jolt.”

Aidan felt his body go limp and the light flickered in and out. Another face looked down at him, a strange, ugly face that he’d seen before in nightmares. He wept and wept, and the sound rankled the man. That much was obvious. He held Aidan out at arm’s length.

The woman spoke. “Brother, I say we take the vessel and escape. With its power….”

Footsteps thundered in the near distance. The man with the beaky nose hushed her. “Shh. We’ll discuss this later with your husband.” He said the word ‘husband’ with disdain.

“Aidan?”

Aidan yelled out, struggling against the invisible hands that were shaking him. The world grew dark. Stars. So many stars. He rubbed his eyes of them…or, rather, meant to, but the stabbing pain in his shoulder jolted him back to reality. The echo of many screams chased him back to the present moment.

A woman spoke. “Mr. Aidan, you’re hurt. Can you hear me?”

Aidan blinked. He was back in the forest, lying on the ground, staring up at the girl’s wintry face. “Where – where was that man?”

Slaíne held him down. “Sir, you’re in shock. You’ve been stabbed in the shoulder, and – don’t make no sense, sir, but you ain’t lost no blood.” Her fingers gently pressed into the bruise, drawing a low growl from Aidan’s lips. The pressure didn’t hurt, but the whole ordeal had been disorienting enough to make the line between friend and foe blur. “Sorry, did nay mean to hurt you.” She pulled her hand away, and Aidan relaxed. “Can you get up? I daren’t light another fire, lest they come back.” She paused. “I don’t nay think they can, though.”

“They’re dead,” Aidan said. He was certain of it. “Their life forces were tied to the fires.” He shivered and pulled himself up to a sitting position with his good arm, and the other he crossed over his chest.

After a moment, she sat down next to him, shaking as well. Her red hair could pass for fire in the moonlight, and eyes for two embers. “Stop doing that,” she said, surprising him.

“What?”

She frowned at him, opened her mouth, and closed it again. “It’s nothin’.”

“I’m going to look around, see if they kept any of my supplies nearby.” Aidan’s teeth chattered, and he Summoned the firewood he had Dismissed. Of course the logs were cold to the touch. “Well, that’s good to know.” With some trouble, he managed to raise himself to his feet. For whatever reason, Slaíne did not offer to help him, and for that he was grateful. He’d been unmanned enough that evening. “So,” he said, hoping to sound casual. “That was some leap.”

Even in the moonlight, he saw the blush creep up to her scalp. “Nice work.”

He considered her for a moment. Was this an issue he really wanted to press right now? That leap had been supernatural, even for someone aided with a Push; she was hiding something, that was for certain. At last he turned. “Right.”

Aidan used his eyes and his ability to search for his supplies. There were Pulls out there tugging at his core, but nothing that felt familiar. Nothing that belonged to him. Nothing that he could use. The food, the drinks, the tables, and the bedding that belonged to the nymphs had disappeared with the strange creatures, just as Aidan had suspected.

He sensed her coming, but it still made him jump when she spoke.

“The nymphs are really dead?”

“Yes.” He continued walking.

She followed, making nary a sound. Odd. How did she manage that? Every step he took crackled, twigs breaking beneath his boots. Slaíne continued. “They as good as well gave themselves away, with all the fires, that is. It was easy enough to sort out.”

“You don’t have to explain how you knew, Slaíne.”

There was a short silence followed by a terse, “I did nay know. I guessed.”

Aidan frowned. How could someone so fascinating have such ill timing? Perhaps that was her secret: sheer thick-headedness. He needed peace. Silence. He needed time to adjust to the pain and to clear his befuddled mind. “Slaíne, I believe you.”

There was another awkward pause. Slaíne broke it, and it shattered into a million pieces. “Ai – Sir, I lied. About the Goblets.”

Aidan froze. This was not what he wanted to hear. He turned to Slaíne. “What did you say?”

Slaíne sighed. “Sir, I said I lied.”

“How did you lie?” He approached her in five quick strides. “Answer me!”

She stared up at him, fire rising in her eyes and heat filling her cheeks. “The lot of them, together…. You can’t unite them, sir. It would make the drinker an abomination.”

Aidan ground his teeth. “Is that all?”

“Is that all, he asks. Blimey, sir, but you can’t.”

“I have no choice.”

Slaíne prodded him in the chest, drawing a low growl from Aidan’s mouth. “No choice? You unite those Goblets, Aidan, and you as good as hand that witch immortality.” She paused for effect. “You hand her those Goblets, and we’re both dead.”

“What have you got to do with the Goblets Immortal, Slaíne?” He pushed her pointing finger away. “What are they to you?”

Her eyes darkened. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, dangerous. “I think you know, sir.”

He shrugged. Let her keep her secrets; he had his own affairs to deal with, and adding hers to the mix would only muddy the waters. Aidan did not need any more distractions from his main purpose. With a sigh, Aidan shook his head and walked away. “What would you have me do? Ignore the Goblets? I have a chance to make things right, and I’m going to take it.”

“To make things right?” She tramped after him, her tiny feet now making enough racket to attract a whole horde of goblins and whatever else might be lurking out in the woods. “What exactly have you done?”

“Sunrise isn’t too far off. We should rest.”

Slaíne groaned. “If you want me to help you, you’re going

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