Good Time

Brenna stared up at him, golden eyes bright, and then she swallowed hard.

“Well done,” she said, and she smiled.

Ciaran stared at her mouth.

She blinked at him. “Ciaran?”

“Right. Er...thanks.” He set the sword aside, offered her a hand up. She dusted herself off, and for the first time, Ciaran was distracted by the gleam of perspiration at her collarbone.

“You did well,” Brenna said. “In good time, too.”

Ciaran cocked his head to one side. “Good time for what? You mentioned, before, that danger was coming, but in all these months I’ve seen none of it.”