grave, crying. A prick of guilt jabbed at him. Instead of mourning as he should, he was indulging in self-pity. Dammit.
If the Seer was here, he would have slapped him back to his senses. Don’t waste your time, boy, lamenting the past, the old man would have told him. You can’t change what happened in the past, but you can change the future. So get off your ass and keep trying.
Over the years, Brody had heard that advice over and over again. Was that what had happened to the old man? Had he taken his own advice so seriously that he’d tried the change the future?
Brody leaned forward and rested a hand on one of the rocks on the Seer’s grave. It was cold and slick from the rain. “I won’t tell anyone.” I’ll never tell anyone that you were the first member of the Circle of Five, that you created that villainous ring of bastards.
Another tear rolled down his cheek. “I never did enough for you, old man. Raising me was hard, I know.” At the age of ten, Brody had recovered physically from the disaster that had caused so much death and left him cursed, but mentally and emotionally, he’d been filled with anger and despair. And the only one available to lash out at was the Seer. But the old man had always treated him with love and patience.
“You helped make me the man I am today.” Brody shoved his wet hair out of his face. “So, rest in peace. I’ll never tell what you did. I’ll protect your reputation. It’s the . . . only thing I can do for you now, old man.”
He rose to his feet and carried the shovel back to the cottage. When the boat from Cahira arrived, he would board it disguised as the Seer. Then, once he was rid of Cahira and the Chameleon, the Circle would be completely gone. No one would ever know that the Seer had conspired with the others. He would be remembered simply as the kindly old man who had shared his visions with the world.
So what should he do, Brody wondered, while he waited for that ship to arrive? Oh, he still needed to find that journal. Could he search for it in animal form? He’d used up most of his allotted time as a human in order to bury the Seer.
He dashed into the cottage, stripped and shifted into his most comfortable animal form, the shaggy black-and-white dog. The cat hissed at him, but he ignored the tabby and dug around in the garden. No journal there. And it wasn’t inside the cottage. He’d checked that thoroughly the night before.
Dammit, where would the Seer hide such a thing? The old man had never been the sort to hide anything. It had been Brody who had hidden himself when anyone came to the island.
Was that what the Seer had meant? Brody’s hiding place? He hurried to the beach where he had landed the day before and trotted into the cave. After rooting around, he found nothing buried there. He eyed the trunk that held his spare clothing. Could it be that simple?
He managed to open the trunk and dug through the clothes till he reached the bottom. And there, he found a leather-bound book. The journal! He grabbed it in his teeth and headed back to the cottage.
As he crossed the highest point on the island, he paused to look around. There, to the south, was that a ship? It seemed to be headed straight for the Isle of Mist. Was it the ship Cahira had sent? Or perhaps it was the Seer’s mysterious daughter whom the old man had claimed was on her way.
He ran into the cottage to drop the journal on his bed, then dashed out again, turning into a pelican. As he flew toward the ship, he noted the red-and-black flag flapping in the wind on the mainsail. An Eberoni ship? What was it doing here? He drew closer and noticed two familiar people at the bow. Maeve and Nevis? What the hell were they doing here? And damn, but she looked more beautiful than ever.
The wind was whipping at her braid of long black hair, loosening tendrils that curled around her face. Her delicate black eyebrows always made a startling contrast to the pale creaminess of her skin. And the natural pink color of her lips.
She was stunning. She’d always been stunning. Fortunately, he was usually in dog form,