The Compass Read Online Free

but he recovered quickly. Concentrating, he tried to separate them. Focussing his energy, he tried to cleave clear information. His head pounded with his efforts to try to decipher what was tangled in the wind. Resting his forehead in-between his hands, he pushed his mind—demanding it to heed to his wishes.
    But all that did was scramble the voices, turning them into static. The intonations were choppy and unintelligible. Cursing, Finn pushed off the window and clenched his hands into fists. He wanted to drive a fist through the glass. Something was out there. It was in the wind, in the garbled static. Raking his hands through the length of his hair in agitation, he began to pace.
    If what was hidden those currents was so damn important, what could be gained by mocking him? Somebody obviously wanted him to receive the message, but they had seriously mucked things up, “Bloody hell.” He ran a hand over his face, before lacing his fingers together at the back of his head and lifting his gaze to the ceiling. He was an immortal warrior—not a bloody interpreter. Whenever he needed something settled, he did so with his blade, and up until now, it was all that he needed. Yet, this was different, but why now—why this night? He uttered another curse and landed a punch to the wall closest to him. In no way did it solve his dilemma, but he gained a grain of satisfaction. He felt a stirring in his mind.
    Having problems cousin?
    Finn’s smile was instant despite his foul mood. Cian, fellow warrior as well as his only kin, was a welcome distraction. It didn’t surprise him in the least that he had felt his aggravation. Nothing I can’t handle.
    The lie rolled off his tongue with ease. But Finn knew that Cian wasn’t so easily fooled. Older than him by a couple of years, Cian had been raised more of a brother to him than a cousin. Uh huh, what do you feel?
    Though they shared a mental link, common for all immortals, the two men were set apart by their choices. Where he had chosen the blade, Cian had chosen the path of magick as well as the sword. This made it difficult at times for them to truly be connected. His cousin may feel that there was something amiss, he couldn’t necessarily know the cause . Sighing, Finn went back to the window. He wasn’t much for explanations, especially ones that only promised to further confuse. This storm, it’s not entirely natural. It has concentrated its power on my home. There was a pause. Finn turned away from the raging storm, and once again began to pace.
    I assume you tried to—read this wind?
    With his laugh forced and harsh, Finn answered. After years of idleness, to have this happen, it was the first thing I did. I heard voices at first. But when I pushed harder, they turned into static.
    Another pause—it was longer than the last. Finn felt his defences rise up. He stopped in the middle of the room, his hands clenched at his sides. But before he could respond, Cian spoke.
    Something has changed—I too have felt a shift in the air. But I’ve not experienced anything as you are now. There comes a time when the blade is not enough. You may have forsaken your legacy, but it doesn’t mean it has completely vanished. That you’re able to sense anything in the wind suggests that what’s inside of you demands to be acknowledged.
    Finn bristled at the censure he heard in his cousin’s voice. The last thing he wanted—or needed was Cian acting as his conscience. His own voice took on a hard edge of warning. Don’t go there cousin.
    As always, his cousin was unaffected. Someone has to. The time will come when you will be forced to make a choice Finn. The darkness that decimated our world is now here, in earth’s realm. This respite we’ve been having is simply a tactic, giving our enemy time to regroup, all the while keeping us on edge—waiting.
    Mikel and his army will use everything at their disposal to gain the Fragments; to use the magick within them to topple the balance.