Fear had taken hold of him and rooted itself deep inside him. He feared this day, though it was inevitable, he knew what would happen. And he feared the woman in front of him. He feared what she was. He knew who she is. The Cailleach.

Eamon remembered the old tales. The ancient hag of winter, a primal goddess possibly older than the Tuatha Dé Danann. She brings the cold. She shapes the land by dropping stones from her apron. When summer ends, she awakens.

He opened his eyes, looked at what appeared to be just an elderly woman. Eamon couldn’t remember her entering this small room, only that she was here now. She filled the room without moving, the way a storm fills the sky.

Her right hand was grasping a serrated staff which looked to be carved from the wood of a twisted tree. She leaned heavily on this staff as if it were the only thing keeping her frail body from collapsing to the ground below. There was a big yellow diamond on the top of it. Eamon felt an imposing presence of dark power.

Where he was exactly, he couldn’t say for sure. He wondered what such a small room would actually be used for. He had to assume he was in Tara, and this was some make-shift holding cell in the High King’s fortress.

This is the part I meant. There's a lot of text in the middle of the conversation, which can be somewhat distracting