“But the man is about to fall from his horse.”
“Is that concern I hear for Lord Stroud?” She gave me a devious smile. “This mist has me chilled to the bone. I can only guess that it has cooled your temper as well.”
“Not at all,” I huffed. “I’m more concerned that he’s slowing us down.”
“The horses can’t move any faster with the state of the road. Lord Stroud is a strong man. He’ll make it to Bristol, and then we can cross to the Otherworld together.”
My hands tightened reflexively around the reins. “How is that possible? Do you know of another altar?” A sheath and necessary herbs were packed in my saddlebag for such an occasion, though at the time I had suspected they would go unused.
“Let’s just say that I borrowed something from Cate, and that she’s going to be madder than a banshee once the loss is discovered.”
Curiosity lifted my brows. “What is it?”
“This something serves as a pathway to Brigid’s nearest garden. At the moment, that’s probably the altar in London, and the last thing I want is to inadvertently stumble upon my mother. Then I would have to explain my decision to accompany you to Wexford instead of delivering you back home as instructed. Once we arrive in Bristol, we should be near enough to draw on another sidhe.”
She paused to further consider the notion. In ancient times the Tuatha Dé enchanted sidhes, or earthen mounds, to pass unhindered between our worlds. Now Brigid’s descendants used them to renew our power, but only if an altar had been established to grant us passage.
“I assume there’s one in Wales,” Justine continued. “Otherwise, Ireland has the strongest connection to the Otherworld, and there may be one near the eastern shore that can bring us over despite the greater distance.”
Should and may...not the most reassuring words by any means. “What if none of those other options work, and we end up back in London anyway?”
Justine winked at me. “Then you best be ready to run if Cate is anywhere in sight. I’ve not seen her this perturbed since my brother Ronan caused a ruckus in Rome that put us all into hiding for a decade.” She tsked her tongue. “Your stealing Brigid’s knife just added more icing to the cake.”
“My knife,” I corrected her. “And I didn’t steal it. I took it back from her room while she was tending Lucy Goodwin.”
“Fair enough, though you’d better be ready to run all the same.”
She made it sound like a game, and I for one had no wish to play.
*
By the following evening, every muscle in my body cried in protest when we stopped to rest. Julian fell into a deep sleep seconds after his body found the ground. Curled into his great cloak, he appeared dead to the world. I watched him beneath partly closed eyes, surprised by the pity I felt. And grudgingly, a little respect. The man had proven stronger than I imagined, never once complaining or asking to stop. It almost made up for his previous behavior, though not quite, and I would still drop him like a rag doll at the mere suggestion of another attack. On further reflection, I considered doing it anyway as a sort of warning, and perhaps a little payback. Once he was fully recovered, of course.
Early the next morning, the first cottages came into view several miles before Bristol proper. A reluctant sun made traveling easier, though we now had to share the road with other folks, both on foot and in open carts. Sheep grazed in grassy fields, enclosed on all sides by hedges and rock walls to keep them from destroying the crops during the growing season. Dark clouds returned with the morning, pushed by winds from the south that foretold of another storm.
While still in the countryside, I’d fought a constant battle against exhaustion, even drifting off for a few minutes at a time before jerking awake. But once we neared the city, all tiredness was soon forgotten. Looking from left to right, and back again, my eyes jumped from one person to the next in search of a familiar face or feature.