Kyron choked on his tea, coughing violently as he slammed one hand on the table and another to his chest. “WHAT?!”
Cat stared at him like he’d lost his mind, then meowed a few times short, with longer ones mixed in, as if he were agreeing with Sorcha and scolding Kyron all at once.
Kyron waved him off, his voice frantic. “WE CAN’T JUST WALTZ INTO THE OTHERWORLD! I’m not even supposed to be here! If they find out. Oh gods, if they find out I’ll never be allowed to leave again!”
Sorcha didn’t react to his outburst because she couldn’t. She had to go and she refused to be told otherwise. She sipped her tea, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. If she focused on this, then it would distract her from the grief she felt, and she welcomed the idea withopen arms. When she finally spoke again, her tone was calm and measured.
“Then we don’t use your mist to get there. From everything I’ve studied and from all my work in the Circle, the Veil is thinnest during Samhain. If we go to the festival and cross through the Veil in Cailleach’s Keep, they can’t say it was your fault. I could have gone through on my own, and you, being my protector, just followed me through. Problem solved.”
Cat nodded.
Kyron stared at both of them with wide, incredulous eyes. “You do realize that if we just jump into the Otherworld, we have no idea where we’ll land, right? None. When I use the mist, it’s precise, like walking through a direct door. But just jumping in? We could end up in the Forgotten Woods, an upside-down castle, or on the Bridge of the Lost! Do you even understand how dangerous that is?”
Sorcha shrugged, her expression nonchalant. “We’ll just make sure we’re well prepared. I’ll bring a pack full of supplies.”
Kyron blinked at her, utterly dumbfounded. “Sorcha… let’s say we land in Anach Fola, which, by the way, is the Bog of Blood. Do you know what lives there? Sluagh, Bánánach, or the Múiríon! How do you plan on fighting ghosts, wraiths, and, oh, I don’t know, essentially water banshees?!”
His arms flailed wildly, gesturing as though trying to physically convey the sheer madness of her suggestion as he laughed under his breath. “And need I remind you—bogs are where the Veil is thinnest! We could end up in any one of them. Do you want to fight whatever horrors lurk in any one of them?!”
Sorcha looked at Cat, her lips quirking in amusement; maybe she had lost her mind. “Well, Cat, it sounds like a lot of danger. I don’t really think it’s any different than what we’re dealing with here. What do you say?”
Cat glanced between Kyron and Sorcha, then hopped off the chair. With deliberate purpose, he sauntered to the door, sat down, and let out a series of meows. As if that wasn’t clear enough, he lifted one paw and pointed to the door.
Kyron stared, his mouth falling open like a gaping fish, utterly lost for words. Sorcha chuckled, brushing past him to grab her bag. “Well, that settles that. I guess we’re going.
Sorcha turned to Kyron, who was still seated. “We’ve got patrols to handle, and only a week until Samhain. I’d say we better start brainstorming a plan.”
With that, Sorcha opened the door, Cat trotting closely behind her. Kyron jumped up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he chased after them. “SORCHA, do you hear yourself?! This is madness! I’m supposed to protect you, not throw you headfirst into danger! This is the opposite of what I should be doing!”
Sorcha spun on her heel, her voice filled with sarcasm. “Well, then PROTECT me, Kyron! Protect me
while we actually do something useful for once instead of sitting around waiting for the world to fall apart!”
Kyron threw his hands up in frustration, pointing accusingly at Cat. “And you—you’re a TERRIBLE INFLUENCE!”
Cat, entirely unbothered, continued trotting ahead, flicking his tail with purpose. Kyron scrambled after them, his voice rising again. “Well, we can’t go alone! How do you expect to explain this to your friends?!”
Sorcha, Kyron, and Cat made their way to Skyfall to meet with the Circle. Before anyone could say anything, Sorcha strode straight to Commander Nethran, stopping abruptly in front of him. She turned to face the Circle, whispered the incantation for the overhead runes, and a flicker of golden light fell around them, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Sorcha…” Kyron muttered, his eyes narrowing as he began to piece together her intentions. “Don’t! don’t do this. I swear, if you—”
Sorcha stood tall, her voice ringing with confidence. “Good morning, everyone. I’d like to tell all of you, my closest and most trusted friends, including you, Commander, that I am the child of a god. The god Lugh.”
Kyron froze, his mouth opening and closing like he was gasping for air. Then, like a dam breaking, his words rushed out: “HEY! HEY! I’m talking to you! WHAT are you doing?!”
Sorcha glanced at him, her tone calm but teasing. “Like I was saying…”
“STOP!” Kyron hissed.
Before Sorcha could continue, Cat let out a long, exaggerated sigh and stood up. With a deliberate flick of his tail, he padded over to Kyron, sat right in front of him, and began pawing at his boot in a rhythmic tap tap tap.
Kyron stared down at the cat, irritation spreading across his face as his skin began to flush. “What? What is this? Stop it, you little—”
Tap tap tap.
“Cat, I swear to the gods—”
Tap tap.
