Seamus O’Donnell sat at the big table in the room that served as the library in the old Massachusetts farmhouse in which he had been raised. Although the room was rather large, after sitting there for too many hours to remember, it was starting to feel entirely too small as he skimmed through yet another aged tome.
“Want some tea?” his twin brother Ian asked from the doorway.
Seamus looked up absentmindedly at Ian, and then turned his head to the clock on the wall. Was it really after ten? Again?
For the last year, time seemed to be slipping through Seamus’ fingers, and he didn’t like it a drop. Samhain was soon approaching, and there was much to do before then. He just didn’t know exactly what.
Seamus turned back to his brother, trying to consider the question. Instead, he found himse
