25
Thomas stood at the cliff’s edge behind Oswy’s hall, listening to the boom of the surf, the night painted in black and silver around him. He wrapped his cloak more closely around him, to shut out the ever-present ocean breeze. His breath gusted white as he waited. It was cold, and getting colder.
He couldn’t help but be affected by the dark beauty of the night: the streak of silver on the water as the moon rose and the pale sands of the beach stretching out towards Lindisfarne, which was lost in the darkness along the curving shore to his left. The shimmering anticipation returned full force, and no matter that he tried to shut it out, it remained, lending a sharp edge to his anxiety over the coming Gathering.
He felt Nona before he saw her, the Fey-sense tingling over him, and he tu
