And Blue Skies From Pain Read Online Free PDF Page B

shoulder with an amused expression. “What kind of a question is that?”
    Liam felt his cheeks burn. He didn’t know the simplest things about his father’s people beyond the stories his aunt Sheila had told him, and so far, more than half of those had been proven to be either outright falsehoods or exaggerations.
    Sceolán shrugged. “As much as anyone, I suppose.”
    “When someone like you—I mean, me—us…. Are they only dreams?”
    “Depends. It could be, or it could be a portent or a message.”
    Liam squinted into the darkness and debated whether or not to go on. He took a deep breath. “How do you know if it’s important?”
    “By the feel of it in my skull.”
    “Oh.”
    Sceolán gave him another long look. “Is that all?”
    Liam wanted to continue. An entire catalog of questions had formed a queue in his brain over the past two weeks. Unfortunately, there hadn’t been an appropriate moment for personal questions the three times he’d seen his father since the incident at Raven’s Hill—or so Liam had told himself. Now certainly wasn’t the time. In any case, he’d already made a fool of himself twice and that was enough for one evening. “Aye. That’s all.”
    “Then I’ve a question for you as well.” Sceolán continued on a few paces before saying anything. “I’ll not go against Bran or you in this peace agreement of yours. But I will say you two have far more belief in it succeeding than I do.”
    “I wouldn’t be so sure.”
    “Is that so?”
    “Aye. Well, I wasn’t staring down the honor of meeting an Inquisitor when we first discussed it, was I?” At least not without the monster to even the odds if needed, Liam thought. It’d been the main reason he’d argued with Father Murray. Dangerous as it was, Liam didn’t like the idea of going in without the ability to shape shift. However, he couldn’t always control himself when he became the Hound and that had been the very reason why Father Murray had insisted on keeping the hypnotic muzzle in place when it’d proved to work.
    Sceolán stopped where he was. “Are you saying you don’t trust your friend, the priest?”
    “I trust him.” Liam paused. “For the most part, but there are about a hundred different ways this thing could go wrong. Not the least of which is me ending on a dissection table or in the Kesh.”
    “You don’t have to give yourself over to them. We can call the whole thing off.”
    Liam watched his uncle navigate around a cowpat in the pitch black field—a thing no mortal could’ve done—and was reassured. Not being the only one who could see in the dark made him feel normal. “Terms of the truce. Better me than one of you. I’m half mortal. Father Murray says the Inquisitor will show restraint for that reason alone.”
    “Are you certain of that?”
    Nervous, Liam paused and combed his fingers through his hair. “To tell you the truth… well… no.”
    “Then don’t do it.”
    “The Church must have their proof that the Fey are not one in the same as the Fallen. Without that, they’ll never stop the killing. Think of the weans they’ve murdered.” My own included. Liam wanted to be angry, but nothing came. He sensed a whisper stir in the back of his brain. Whether it was the spark of rage or the beast in its uneasy rest he couldn’t be sure. He felt odd. Too distant. The emptiness was disconcerting.
    “Was this insanity your idea or the priest’s?”
    Best get this done with, Liam thought. “Father Murray’s.” He stole a glance at his watch and began to walk faster.
    “I don’t like it.”
    “He’ll be with me the entire time. Wouldn’t agree to it otherwise.”
    “What good will that do? It’s not as if the man has any authority among them.”
    “True enough,” Liam said. “But he can summon my father and therefore, the rest of you if it should happen that I’m not able to do so myself. I don’t think the Bishop would want the Fianna showing up for Sunday mass