“And what’s with the trench? Why is that important?”
“It’s believed there are gateways to the underworld.” Ciaran made a face. “It sounds crazy, I know. But the old stories say she came from the Norwegian Trench in the North Sea.”
Sawyer made a thoughtful face before he shrugged. “Old gods, gateways to the underworld. None of that is any crazier than anything else I’ve learned since I got here.”
Ciaran put his hand on Sawyer’s face, searching his eyes. “I feel bad for dragging you into this. The timing couldn’t be worse.”
Sawyer seemed to realise something then. He froze, and Ciaran could feel the spike of fear that lurched through him. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re in danger,” Sawyer said. Then he pressed his hand to his forehead. “Of course you are. What a stupid thing to say. This is dangerous, right? Like, really bad. People might die, yes? Like you might actually be fucking killed? Christ, Ciaran?—”
“Hey,” he said, his tone as soothing as he could manage. “We’ll be okay.”
“You don’t know that,” Sawyer argued, but then he began to cough again.
Ciaran rubbed his back. “You should be resting. Doctor’s orders.”
Sawyer shot him a look that said,“You seriously cannot expect me to rest right now,”but then there was a knock at the door.
“Hello, we’re coming in. Please don’t be naked.”
Fray.
Ciaran heard Otis laugh.
FrayandOtis, which made Ciaran smile. Two friendly faces were everything Ciaran needed to see.
It was Fray who poked his head around the door first. “Okay, they’re not fucking, we’re safe. I’m no prude, but I don’t wanna see what eight tentacles can do to one man.” Then he stopped and gave that some thought. “Actually, on second thought....”
Sawyer laughed, but of course that made him cough again.
Fray grimaced. “You okay? Need a glass of water or something?”
Sawyer waved him off. “Drank enough water today, apparently, but thanks.”
“Everything okay?” Ciaran asked.
Otis popped his head up behind Fray, his smile wide. “We have gifts.”
“Gifts?” Sawyer asked. “Maybe I should get dressed.”
Fray put his hand up. “Just stay under the blankets. Unless you wanna pin me against wall without a stitch of clothing on again. I’m not gonna say no.”
Ciaran’s growl was low and rumbling and not altogether fake.
“Just kidding,” Fray said, his shit-eating grin evidence to the contrary. He held up a badly wrapped gift. “For Sawyer. Welcome to the family.”
Then Otis produced his much larger gift. “Mine’s bigger because size really does matter.”
Fray nudged him. “Hey. My sense of humour is compensation?—”
“Guys,” Ciaran said.
They straightened up, and Fray handed Sawyer his gift. He opened it and barked out a laugh as he showed Ciaran the pink unicorn pool floaties.
Fray laughed. “If you’re gonna keep going in the drink, you need to learn how to float.”
“They’re perfect,” Sawyer said.
