Twenty-Five
It was only a couple of hundred yards to Talan and Kelly’s cottage, one of a cluster of small stone houses huddled along a tiny inlet. They’d been built for fishermen around two hundred years ago and crammed into the limited space so bits of one rested on top of another and it was hard to see where each house began and ended. Even if they were out, I knew where Talan kept the spare key. Or where he used to. He might have moved it but I didn’t think so. People like Talan didn’t change, that was what was so comfortable about them. He wouldn’t mind, either, if I let myself in and made myself at home. I walked faster, the longing to feel heat on my skin overpowering every other thought.
Talan opened the door. He was dressed and not long in. Muddy boots lay on their side in the ti
