22
The rain poured down, creating a thick curtain of water that blocked our shelter from the rest of the world.
Finn paced at the very back of the cave, tucked behind the horses, humming a tune I’d often heard in the clearing at camp.
Liam sat, leaning against the side of the cave, staring out into the rain.
I sat opposite him, trying to convince my fingers they didn’t want to trail along the hard lines of his jaw.
“We should just keep going,” Finn said.
Liam waited a moment before speaking. “The path is dangerous in the rain.”
“Danger lies in front of us no matter the weather,” Finn said.
I untied my hair and shook it free of its braid, trying to occupy my fingers with working the sodden strands into a reasonable order.
“The Brien won’t like us being late.” Finn knelt and dug int
