“Ah, yes. My favourite boy. At least one of you is decent.”
Ciaran grinned some more. “Want me to put it inside for you?”
Mr Brown nodded. “Would appreciate it, thanks.”
When Ciaran disappeared into the small shack, Sawyer figured it was his turn to talk. He noticed his silver necklace again, seeing it more clearly this time. It looked like hammered patterned silver, and it looked old. It looked tribal, almost. No, not tribal... Pagan, maybe?
“Sorry for bringing the riffraff.”
Mr Brown met him with a smile of grandfatherly fondness. “So... a little birdie told me you two are...”
“Yes, we are,” Ciaran said, walking back out onto the porch. When he stepped down, he stood next to Sawyer, putting his hand on Sawyer’s lower back and a proud smile on his face. No one said the word “bonded,” but it appeared they didn’t have to.
So, Mr Brown knew about cephamorphs, then. Ciaran was definitely at ease here. Happy, even.
“Despite our... differences,” Ciaran finished.
Mr Brown laughed like the sound of wind through the trees. “Differences, huh? I bet you do have yourselves some of those.”
They bantered, bickered, and laughed for a few minutes, and Sawyer was happy to watch the exchange, reading between the lines all the things that weren’t said and, in particular, the questions Ciaran asked him.
Because he was trying to give Sawyer information.
“How’s the family?” he asked.
“Good, good,” Mr Brown replied. “And yours?”
“We’re doing okay. And how’s the mountain treating you?”
“All’s well here. I should be asking you how the water is down there?”
Ciaran did a small head tilt that said more than the spike of unease Sawyer felt from him. “Ah, you know how it is. Alwayssomething happening. The wind hasn’t been talking to you again, has it? Telling you our secrets again?”
Mr Brown smiled and took the pipe from his mouth. “She always whispers.” Then he winked at Sawyer. “Told me of a newcomer to town. Said change would come in with the tide.”
Wait, what?
“Me?” Sawyer asked. That was so weird. He wasn’t sure what to say. “Uh... tell the wind I said hello.”
Mr Brown smiled at Sawyer before giving Ciaran a shrug. “Now I’m not sure this is who she meant. He is your mate, yes?”
Ciaran didn’t miss a beat. “Yes.”
“He cannot cause you harm?”
Ciaran blinked in surprise, and Sawyer beat him to the chase, his heart rate spiking at the mere thought. “I would never. Icouldnever.”
Ciaran rubbed his hand up Sawyer’s back, reassuring and calming, his eyes sincere. “I know.”
Mr Brown nodded slowly. “So... someone else.”
Ciaran raised an eyebrow. “Another newcomer?”
The old man turned and looked back at the trees. “She tells all kinds of stories, but you gotta know how to listen.” He put his pipe back in and pointed a gnarled finger at Ciaran. “And not all monsters come out of the dark, young man. But there will be more bonds. You’re not the last.”
Ciaran scrutinised him for a beat, then nodded slowly as if to say, “Message received.” They chatted some more, but Sawyer’s mind was spinning.
“Okay, well, we’ll leave you be,” Ciaran said. “Give my best to your family.”
