Page 87 of The Seer

Ardghal maybe? Did she dare call out? What if this was all a construct by the Sullivan ancestors, and by speaking his name, she alerted them to his resurrection? But if they were all-seeing, wouldn’t they already know?

Fuck.

She hated the intrigue and landmines waiting for her one wrong step.

With nothing left to do, she floated toward the treeline, yet another clue she was in a weightless mind state. It remained out of reach, moving when she did. If she had a physical heart in her spectral body, it would be hammering right about now.

Sensing the presence behind her, she spun around.

Nothing.

She didn’t care for the bug-under-a-microscope feeling she was experiencing. Someone was here, she was certain of it. Fingers brushed along her cheek, and she jerked. But no one stood next to her. They were soft, familiar, and she sought their warmth when they stroked her skin again.

Fintan.

Definitely him.

She’d know his touch anywhere. On the other side of this imagined world, he waited for her.

The crackle of electricity was loud in the air, and blue bolts disrupted the sky, as if the gods were attempting to penetrate the shell surrounding her.

“Taryn.”

Her non-existent heart lurched.

He’d found a way to repair their bond.

“Fintan!” she screamed. And once again, the landscape muted her voice. “Fuckers! When I get out of here—and I sure as shit will—I’m going to sic the Aether on your ass. Don’t think I won’t!”

Her threat didn’t hold water, but it made her feel better to say it.

“Taryn.”

The person calling her wasn’t Fintan. Yes, the cadence was the same, but he wouldn’t call her by name, not like that.

“Who are you?” This time, her voice reached farther.

A chuckle answered her. It wasn’t audible in the traditional sense, more of a feeling of movement through her, and his intent accompanied the humorless sound.

“I know you’re there. Waiting, like a fucking spider for an unsuspecting fly. Just show yourself and tell me what you want already.”

Her warden waited.

She sat down and pressed her hand to the floor. Whatever ether she floated on, it was made up of liquid.

Taryn almost grinned. Suppressing her glee was difficult, but whoever had trapped her here had erred in their planning. With her elemental abilities, she could manipulate everything from mist to ice and pull back the curtain on this charade. A second of doubt stayed her hand. Was it possible to control magic when one wasn’t corporeal?

Peter Sullivan had managed to teleport in and out, but Taryn couldn’t recall if he’d performed any spells while in his ghostly state. Was that different from her? Yes, she was in a spirit world, but she wasn’t dead.

“I can see your mind working overtime,” her warden finally said. “You should relax. You’re going to be here a long, long while.”

“How long is long? Where is this place? Is it the Otherworld?” She’d heard the Otherworld was beautiful, but rumor had it the holding area was similar, still with no other life but those who’d passed with you. If this were Purgatory, she should be grateful no one she loved had crossed in the fight with Odessa.

“If you prefer to see it that way. And you’ll stay here as long as the Authority needs to control Fintan Sullivan.”

No Purgatory. Her captor’s sneering of Fintan’s name provided the final puzzle piece.

“Micha.”

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