20
A warm glow of firelight leaked around the edges of the shuttered window of Celyn’s small dwelling. He opened the door, expecting to see the Welshman, and froze in surprise as Nona rose to meet him instead. She was alone.
“We are long parted,” she said.
The words didn’t register for a moment, distracted as he was by the Fey-sense, the tingling shock that danced along his nerves. But as a slight frown appeared on her face, he realized she was waiting for a reply. Parted? Godric’s face flashed through his mind. The harper had said the same thing.
A cold gust of wind brought a splat of rain against his back and reminded him that the door still stood open behind him. He took a step in and shut it, closing out the tumult of the wind and rain. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Nona’s eyes wi
