Bres swerved around a pothole on the Irish road. "Henry's vehicle operates magnificently." "Of course. If it didn't, he'd have it chopped into pieces and shipped back to the factory." He rubbed his chin. "You know, I would believe he would."
Cliodhna of the Fair Hair studied her large, blond companion. He still looked like a man in his thirties, still deserved his epithet, 'Bres the Beautiful'. but fine lines creased the skin beside his eyes. He'd been out in this place too long. Fresh from Renewing in the Otherworld, Cliodhna was certain she hadn't aged a day past twenty-six.
They'd been enemies, allies or lovers over the millenia. Apart for the last fifteen years, what were to each other now? "Time will tell," he said. "Oh, do stop reading my mind! You know that annoys me. "Not always." Bres winked. Cliodhna sighed. "Are we nearly there?"
He pulled the SUV to the side of the road. "We are there. This is Keshcorran."
