“Oh, howunexpectedthis is. Not who I was looking for, but—” He tilted his head. “This definitely changes things.”
He said it more to himself than me. Like he forgot I was a conscious being standing right in front of him, hearing everything he was saying. Not that I’d understood any of it anyways.
What was he on about?
Disheveled and now officially annoyed, I slapped his lingering hand away. It was all I could do to not scold myself fornotdoing it sooner. Sure, he’d concealed me, clearly having no interest in hurting me. At least not yet . . . but still.
What was it about this tree-man that had my defenses slipping like butter on a hot pan? He radiated an energy I couldn’t place.
Interesting, indeed . . .
It was my turn to narrow my eyes.
“And what are you?” I demanded.
“You can call me Alvar.” His cheeks lifted, seemingly entertained. “But I sense a name wasn’t what you were seeking. In my homeland, the ability is called aSeidr. Here you’d know it best as a Seer,” he said thoughtfully.
The way he spoke was strange, like a calm and composed storyteller. But I could sense something wild burning beneath.
“All life is connected by invisible cords—tethers. The fates, Polaris, allow me small glances into those threads. Glances into whatcouldcome to pass.” His eyes flared for a moment. “They gifted me with a small glimpse intoyours.”
He paused.
“As for the hiding—” He nodded toward the sidewalk where the Luckmen hadn’t detected us. “That comes from this cloak. A gift.” He brushed his hand along the edge ofthe fabric. “Woven with magic to help me travel unseen. To protect the one I serve, unseen.” Eyes found mine, as if he weren’t just looking, butrecognizing. “Only he can see me while cloaked. And yet, it seems you are an exception.”
His words came out smooth. Too smooth to match the roughness of a lie, a surprising bead of honesty. Out of all the odd things about him, that might’ve been the strangest.
I’d never met a Seer. Or . . . Seidr.
Say-durrr, the voice inside my head mimicked his accent.
Had he seen who I really was? Where I was born? My parents? My abilities, the prophecy? Why could I see the cloak? Was there something wrong with me? What vision had he found soamusing?
My mind whirled.
And his homeland . . . the ears . . .
Holy shit.
“You’re from Vinterland!” I screeched.
It was meant to be a question, but apparently my subconscious didn’t get the memo.
Vinterland was a fortress in itself—walled away from the eyes of other lands—or at least ithadbeen. Stories about it were rare. Practically myth. David once told me he’d met a few Vinterlanders back in his younger days, but that was hundreds of years ago.
In human Christmas tales, they spoke of an isolated land far, far away, The North Pole, hidden by arctic barriers, full of cute little elves who built toys all day for human children. And some jolly old man namedSanta Clausdecided which children were nice enough to earn them. Perhaps the humans got the isolated part right.
But the elves’ size and appearance?Jesus fucking Christ. They were way off.
“Yes,” he said simply, a mysterious smile curling up his lips. “Very soon, you and I will be good friends.”
He sounded so confident and certain. Like the future had already been written out.
Had it been?
“I will teach you to fight like us. You will no longer have to run from these”—He waved a hand toward the city—“tiny, pestering beasts.”
Instantly, an image of Lochlainn and his wolfy men flashed through my mind—them gathered around the pub, throwing angry drunken tantrums, tables flipping, fists flying—all because someone called them exactly that.Tiny, pestering, beasts.
