“HAS HE said anything yet?” Fallon asked Caden upon arrival. Caden had had the foresight to move the man to a different part of the camp. One where Shea wouldn’t easily be able to overhear her former companion when he screamed.
“Yes. The man won’t shut up.” Caden gave the tent where their captive waited a disgusted look. “Nothing he says seems to be of any consequence, however.”
Darius snorted. He’d invited himself along to the interrogation. Braden had remained behind in the treetop village with Chirron and Van. Fallon hadn’t been happy leaving Van up there, knowing the other man tended to be brutal to those the Trateri conquered. There were also rumors of how he treated the opposite sex. Nothing concrete, however.
Despite that, Fallon had faith the general would keep him in check.
“Let’s see if we can jog something loose, shall we?” Fallon gave Caden a wolfish grin. It had just a hint of brutality to it.
Fallon stalked past him and into the dark space inside the tent. There was a small brazier lit on one side; it was the only light now that night had long since fallen. The Airabel villagers knew how to throw a feast and had kept Fallon and the others long past sunset. Coupled with the long journey down the tree in the dark, it was well past midnight.
“Look who has returned. The conquering warlord, master of all he sees,” Reece said upon seeing Fallon. He had a sly smile on his face, the expression that of a fox who thinks it’s cornered a mouse. Only Fallon was as far from a mouse as one could get.
He didn’t respond to the greeting, choosing silence as he crossed his arms over his chest and settled a dark look on Reece.
“Oh, scary. Does that look often win you confessions?” Reece refused to be cowed.
The man was foolhardy. Cocky and arrogant when surrounded by danger. Fallon couldn’t bring himself to respect him. He was a showboat. Fallon didn’t see much resemblance in the skill and poise Shea possessed and this boy’s cocky assumption that no harm would befall him.
A small movement in the corner drew Fallon’s attention. Witt stood behind the captive with his arms at his sides and a considering expression on his face.
“What can you tell me?” Fallon asked.
“What kind of question is that?” Reece asked. “Do you think I’ll just answer?”
Fallon leveled a calm look on the other man. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Reece blinked in confusion.
A slight tug at the corner of Witt’s lips spoke to his amusement. “He’s definitely a pathfinder. My guess is he’s not been assigned to a specific post. He’s skilled, but his arrogance keeps him from advancing further in their ranks. It’s probably why they put him on this assignment. He’s expendable.”
Reece face nearly turned purple with insult. “I’ll have you know that I’m considered one of the best in my age group, and they don’t consider me expendable in the least.”
Fallon raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that why they sent you on a suicide mission?”
Reece snorted. “Hardly. Shea won’t let you kill me.”
“Do you see Shea anywhere near here, boy?” Darius asked at Fallon’s back.
Fallon hunkered down getting in Reece’s face. “Shea does not make the rules in my army. I do. She might be upset about your death, but by then it will be too late.”
For the first time Reece looked a little uncertain. Good, the little shit finally understood just how serious this was. It wasn’t a game. There would be no calling a halt if Reece decided he didn’t want to play anymore. Fallon was deadly serious and there was nothing he’d like more than to relieve this man of his head.
“I’m her cousin. She’d never forgive you.”
Fallon stood up. Hm. That might put a wrinkle in things. He didn’t let that stop him though. “It might take a long time, but I have a feeling she’ll eventually come back around.”
Reece snorted. “You don’t know Shea very well, then. That woman holds a grudge like no other.”
“It might be worth it just to shut you up,” Witt said, poking Reece in the back of the head.
Reece shrugged and tried to duck away from Witt. He didn’t get far, restrained in the chair as he was.
“What is it that you want?” Fallon asked. He was tired of the games. He wanted to be in bed holding his woman, not here interrogating a fool.
“Didn’t you get the note?”
Fallon’s jaw ticked. “You mean the note you invaded my space to leave on Shea’s pillow.”
“Yeah, that note.”
Caden scoffed. “This boy is an idiot.”
Darius’s expression made it clear he agreed. “How is he a pathfinder? I’m beginning to revise my opinion of them after meeting him.”
“He is not typical to their ranks,” Witt said, never taking his eyes off the other man.
“What’s the big deal? The note was very clear. Shea can come back home and even bring the little friends she’s made.” Reece’s expression made it clear he had no idea why they found the note so offensive.
Fallon snapped. He’d crossed the space in seconds and grabbed Reece’s shirt, jerking him and the chair he was still tied to half off the ground. “The big deal is you trespassed in my space. You violated the room I share with my Telroi. Worst of all, you seek to take what is mine. I have killed men for less. I have destroyed villages and salted the earth they rested on so nothing could grow again for offenses not even half as grave as the insult you gave. That is the big deal.”
Reece’s head flopped around on his shoulders as Fallon shook him with every other word. Fallon’s voice rose until it was a thunderous roar in the small space. The other three made no attempt to separate him from his victim, looking on with bored expressions.
Fallon took a deep breath and opened his hand. Reece fell, his chair wobbling before falling on its side. Reece coughed several times before craning his head to glare up at Fallon.
“I don’t know what she sees in you. You’re not her normal type at all.”
Fallon bared his teeth at the man on the ground and chuckled. It was the laugh of a dragon faced with someone so far beneath him that he couldn’t even be classified as a threat anymore. Reece would have to work harder if he wanted to get to Fallon. It didn’t matter if he was Shea’s type or not. She was his, and he was hers. The end. What came before was unimportant. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d been a monk before he’d met her.
Reece eyed him warily. “Didn’t work, huh? Perhaps you’re smarter than you look.”
Fallon reached down and set the chair and Reece upright. “Start talking. My patience for you is wearing thin. Once it’s gone, my men will kill you and put your body somewhere no one but the beasts will find it. We’ll tell Shea you went back home.”
“She’ll know. They’ll send others until they get what they want.”
Fallon cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. “By then, our bond will not be so easily broken.”
Reece sighed and tilted his head back to look up at the canvas. Fallon watched with interest. It was a trait Shea had demonstrated on more than one occasion—usually when she was frustrated or had to consider a problem. Perhaps it was a family trait. After a long minute, Reece tilted his head slightly and directed his eyes so he could see Fallon.
“The pathfinders want Shea to come home.”
“No.”
He sighed and kept going. “They want her to come home and bring you and your army with her.”
Hmm. That was interesting. And unexpected.
“Why?”
Reece shrugged. “They didn’t tell me that. I’m just a pawn—isn’t that what you said?”
Fallon grabbed a finger of the other man’s and twisted just far enough to put pressure on the joints but not enough to break it. “Why?”
“Because something’s wrong!”
Fallon released the finger and stepped back. “Wrong how?”
“You’ve seen it. The mist. The beast attacks, aggressive beyond anything we’ve seen in generations. We’ve lost four settlements over the past three months. Established settlements that shouldn’t have been destroyed so easily.”
“And what is it that they’re hoping Fallon will do for them?” Shea’s cool voice came from the tent’s entrance. She shot a look at Fallon before turning her attention back to Reece.
Caden sent a questioning look to Fallon, asking without words whether he wanted her removed. Fallon gave a slight shake of his head. No, he wanted to see what she’d do. Then he wanted to ask how she’d followed him.
“What do you think they want, Shea? They want his army. They want his help in beating back the beasts.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Reece. The guild never asks for help. Fallon and his army wouldn’t be content to deal with the beasts and then leave the Highlands to go their merry way. They’ll want payment. Why would the guild chance it?”
Reece sat back and shrugged. “Why don’t you ask them for yourself?”
Shea made an angry sound of frustration.
Fallon leaned forward grabbing Reece’s hand and bending it back at an unnatural angle. “We’re asking you.”
Reece glared into Fallon’s eyes for a long minute. Whatever he saw there made him blanch and look away.
“This isn’t like normal. When’s the last time the mist reached this far into the Lowlands?”
“Not for centuries,” Shea answered.
Witt looked interested in the conversation and stepped closer.
“Exactly. There’s something at work here. Something the guild can’t explain.”
“That’s a good excuse and all, but the guild has never bothered itself to care about the villages of the Highlands before unless their tithe went missing. What’s the real reason?” Witt asked.
“That’s not true,” Reece said. “They care. They’re just limited in what they can do.”
Witt’s snort made it clear what he thought of that response.
“They’ve faced this before,” Shea said. “Why risk it?”
Reece’s sigh was angry. “Because of you. Because of what you did. You woke something when you went into the Badlands, and now everything has been placed in jeopardy. This is your fault and it’s your job to fix it.”
Shea stared at him, her face paling in shock. “That’s not true.” She shook her head and took a step back. “That’s not possible. We barely made it past the first demarcation. There’s no way we caused this.”
Reece’s shrug was tired. “I don’t know what to tell you. Everything I’ve seen or been told says the problem originated in the Badlands and it’s just getting worst. If you don’t want another cataclysm on your hands, you’ll do what you can to help. Go home, Shea. Bring your friends, because you’re certainly going to need them.”
Shea had a stunned and broken expression on her face. The fight had run out of her.
“Keep him alive,” Fallon ordered Caden. “I’ll want to speak to him again.”
“Understood.”
Fallon took Shea by the arm and walked her out of the interrogation room. She didn’t say anything to protest, letting him lead her where he would. He noted with grim satisfaction that Trenton stood in a pool of shadows next to the tent and Wilhelm was a silent presence across the way. He’d have words for them later, but their severity would be mitigated by the fact that they’d remained with her.
The walk to their quarters was silent and seemed much longer than normal. Fallon was content with the silence, not wanting their words to be overheard by any of his men. He had questions and Shea was going to answer them for once. He’d let her get away with some of her non-answers regarding the Highlands and the pathfinders’ guild, understanding what it meant to be loyal. He liked that her loyalty wasn’t something so easily replaced, but his patience with it had just run out.
*
Shea’s mind whirled at the information Reece had given her, and the accusation that everything currently wrong could be laid at her feet. It was a ridiculous claim.
Wasn’t it?
Yes, it was. There was no way that expedition had managed to create this level of discordance. They’d never made it anywhere close to the Badland’s heart, most of them dying before they’d even gone a week.
Still, something was wrong. The mist, the increased attacks, the frostling Shea had run into previously. All pointed to something being amiss.
They swept into their quarters. Fallon released her arm and made a beeline for the carafe of wine that was always kept filled. He poured himself a chalice and drank it down before pouring himself another.
Shea was too consumed by her own thoughts to notice immediately how agitated he was.
“Fallon, we need to talk about this. I think Reece is right. I need to go. I need to go back to the Highlands.”
He slammed his cup down; she jumped as her widened eyes landed on him. He advanced on her, only stopping when she took a step back.
He eyed her with determination. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand that the first time your precious pathfinders beckon, you hearken to their call like a dog to their master.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it? Shea, half the time, you act like you’d rather be anywhere but here. You’re always going on about becoming a scout again, but isn’t that just an excuse to hide, to pretend that you’re still one of them?”
She glared at him, her throat tight. “I want to be a scout because it’s what I’m good at. It’s your insecurities that keep me from it. Your fear that holds me back.”
“There are other options than just being a scout. Why can’t you see that?”
It was the same argument, just a different day. “You never asked what I wanted. You just assumed you knew what’s good for me. Well, you don’t. Only I do.”
He shook his head, his face stubborn. “Not in my army you don’t.”
That was the kicker. Everything was his. Not theirs. Shea gritted her teeth. This wasn’t important right now. What Reece had revealed was. “We’re not going to agree on this.”
“We don’t have to. I’ve already made my decision. I’m not changing my mind.”
Shea took a deep breath. “Reece brought up several good points. There is something wrong. The pathfinders might be able to help us.”
“We’ve gotten by until now. No reason we can’t continue doing so.”
The sound that came from her throat was angry and full of frustration. “And you call me stubborn. Fallon, there are things in this world you don’t understand. What you’ve seen so far is merely a pittance of what waits to be unleashed at the heart of the Badlands. If they’re right and the heart is waking, it will be a second cataclysm. You said the last one drove your people from their homes. These lands were once populated with ten times the people. You could walk from one end of it to the next on great roads. The cataclysm changed all that. It destroyed everything. If there is a chance that it’s happening again, we have to do all in our power to stop it.”
Fallon shook his head. “All the more reason to stay out of it. I don’t know these people and I certainly don’t trust them. For all you know this is a trap. You’ve said before how ruthless they are.”
“It’s a chance I’ll have to take.”
“You’re not going. That’s final.”
“Fallon,” Shea protested to his back.
He shook his head and walked out of the tent before she could say more. Stubborn, stubborn man. This wasn’t over.
Shea followed and was brought up short when Trenton stepped into her path with an apologetic look.
“Get out of my way.”
“I’m sorry, Shea. The Warlord has given orders. You’re to stay in the tent for now.”
Shea’s eyebrows climbed nearly to her hairline, and she stared at him with a shock that quickly turned to fury.
“Oh, did he?”
Trenton drew a deep breath. “Yes, and he’s authorized us to use force if necessary.”
Shea was quiet for a moment, her shock and anger filling her with ugly feelings that wanted to burst out. She couldn’t let them. She needed to retain control.
“And you’d do as he asked?”
His nod was somber even as the look in his eyes were apologetic. “I would.”
Shea looked away. There was a tight feeling behind her eyes and a prickling at the bridge of her nose.
“He is my Warlord,” Trenton said in a soft voice.
She nodded, not saying anything for a long moment. When she’d gotten her emotions under control she looked him in the eye. “And here I thought we were becoming friends.”
There was nothing to say to that. Shea turned and walked back into the tent, not acknowledging the soft apology that followed in her wake.
Back in the tent, she moved quickly through the communal area to the bed chamber. She went directly to a trunk at the foot of the bed, kneeling to open it. The trunk held most of Shea’s things—clothes, odd knick-knacks she’d picked up here and there and wanted to keep, including the green jacket that was part of her scout uniform and a knife she’d stolen when she’d appropriated that jacket.
She plucked the knife out of its scabbard and stood. If Fallon thought he was going to keep her locked up in this tent, he had another thing coming. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d escaped from one of these tents. Admittedly, last time she’d been fleeing because she’d thought her life was in danger, but this worked to.
She walked to the opposite side of the tent and set the knife against the canvas. She hesitated, her arm tensed to push the knife’s point through to the other side. This was the action of a child. One who didn’t get their way and threw a fit to punish everyone around them.
Her arm dropped. It would be so easy to vent her frustration by going on walkabout. So easy to disappear right from under their very noses. To punish Fallon for being an obstinate, stubborn and unreasonable man. That didn’t mean it would be right. Just because you could do something didn’t mean you should.
He was right. He had enemies that would love to take him down through Shea. Despite being in the middle of the encampment, it was still dangerous to be walking around at night. All sorts of beasts, both four legged and two, came out at this time. She was only lightly armed and tired.
Still, she didn’t want Fallon to think he could get away with this kind of behavior. She was his partner. Not his prisoner. It was time he understood that.
She raised her arm and cut into the canvas. It was easier than the last time she’d done this—the knife sharper. She stepped through and looked around, half surprised no one had thought to put guards on the back of the tent given her history.
She shook her head and stepped back into the tent, going over to her bed and laying down. She didn’t need to go anywhere. Her point had been made. Besides, her comfortable bed was right here.
*
“I must say I’m a little surprised you’re still here.” Darius’s voice came from the broken partition. They would have to get that fixed before much longer. Shea was a little surprised it hadn’t been already.
Darius stood a foot inside the personal quarters. He was alone and dressed simply.
Shea sat up. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged and held up a bottle of wine. “I thought you could use the company, considering Fallon is pacing the camp like a wild animal.”
Shea considered him through narrowed eyes. They were not friends. Darius had never gone out of his way to engage her before. When Fallon was gone and had left Darius in charge, she’d barely seen the other man. It made his presence here a tad suspicious.
He looked around and noticed the gaping hole Shea had cut in their tent. “I see I spoke too soon. Did you desire another entrance?”
Shea didn’t answer, giving him a stone-faced stare.
He sighed. “Well, at least you’re still here. That’s something. Why don’t you come out here so we can talk? I doubt Fallon would appreciate my presence in his private chambers with only his Telroi for company.”
“You assume I care what he thinks right now.”
“Of course, you care, or you would have taken the exit that you so diligently made and taken off into the night. Come, I have wine.”
Darius didn’t wait for her response, disappearing into the other room. There were small sounds of movement as he rustled around trying to find glasses.
Shea gave a heavy sigh and got up.
Darius had made himself at home in the short time Shea had taken to follow him. He reclined on one of the pillows that had a chair back attached. He’d nabbed two chalices from the long table and set them next to him on one of the low tables next to his pillow chair.
“Please. Help yourself.” Sarcasm tinged her voice.
He gave her a lazy grin. “I always do.”
Her huff held a note of laughter in it. She took a seat beside him and reclined into the backrest, nabbing the glass of wine. She took a sip and made a surprised expression of pleasure. It was pretty good. Much better than she would have thought. Probably from one of the south-eastern cities. She thought she remembered wine being one of their main exports.
“So. Why are you here?” Shea asked, cutting to the chase.
Darius took a sip and made a pleased expression. “Lowlanders are so different from us. They can’t fight worth shit and they fear their very shadows, but they do make some amazing things, don’t they?”
Shea gave a shrug of agreement. “They do seem to excel at the trades.”
“What about your people? They have anything like this where you come from?”
Shea shrugged noncommittally. She didn’t want to get into another discussion about the Highlands and what it had to offer. One of the reasons it had never been conquered was because most people were convinced there wasn’t anything up there worth conquering. It was hard to go to all that trouble, if there wasn’t going to be a reward worth having at the end of it.
“You do that well,” Darius said, pointing his goblet at her.
“What?”
“Deflect. Pretend to be less than you are.”
She gave him a questioning look, not quite understanding his point.
“When it comes to anything but your abilities with scouting, you downplay what you can do.”
“I don’t do that.” That was ridiculous.
“Oh?” He took another sip of his drink as he studied her. “The beast board. Why haven’t you taken more of an active role? More than scouting, that idea has the greatest potential to effect real change by educating and training our soldiers in the dangers they face every time they step out of camp.”
“That’s Clark’s thing. Him and Charles. They came up with that and they’re doing a great job.”
“They’ve asked for your help several times now.”
“They don’t need it. They’re doing fine as is.”
“That’s your problem. Fine isn’t good enough. You have a unique set of skills that we could take advantage of. I know you know that. Your work trying to prepare Eamon’s men for the mist proves that. You’re good at it too. Surprisingly so.”
Shea didn’t have a response to that, electing to take another sip of her wine.
“You’re a leader who doesn’t want the responsibility of leading,” Darius said after a long pause.
Shea nearly choked on her wine. There were many things that could be laid at her feet. That wasn’t one of them.
“How much of this wine have you had?” she asked Darius.
“Enough to know that I’m right. You’ll see.”
Shea peered at him from the corner of her eye. He didn’t look drunk, but perhaps he hid it better than most.
“Fallon’s changed since he met you,” Darius said after a long silence. “You probably don’t see it, but the rest of us do.”
Shea set her goblet down and leaned back, fixing Darius with a long stare. They were finally getting to the reason he was here.
“What makes you say that?”
“There were plans to invade the Highlands immediately after we conquered the Lowlands.” Darius’s words were a boulder thrown into a still pond.
Shea went still, her heartbeat reverberating in her ears.
“He put that aside.” Darius pointed his goblet at her. “For you. He wouldn’t have done that before.”
“How do you know? I thought you had decided that it was unconquerable because of Bearan’s Fault.”
Bearan’s Fault was a string of cliffs hundreds of miles long. The Highlands sat on the shelf above the Fault and below them was the Lowlands. It was if some giant had ripped the two lands apart and then tried to tape them back together, the resulting pieces not quite lining up again.
Though they weren’t unsurpassable, it would be next to impossible to get an entire army with supplies and horses up them without completely giving up any element of surprise. Such an endeavor would take weeks if not years.
“Not if we went through the Badlands.” He gave her a sly smile. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”
She knew much more than that, including a way through the cliffs that would allow Fallon to take his men and horses in half the time and half the danger.
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that you’ve changed him. He’s different now.”
“Let’s say you’re right, and he is. Why are you telling me this?”
He shrugged and poured himself another glass. “Maybe I’m hoping you’ll take pity and not take that exit you made. That you’ll have patience with him. Change takes time. He might seem unreasonable and autocratic, but he has softened with you. More than any other person in this world.”
“And do I just give him a pass in the meantime? Let him walk all over me. Keep me prisoner in the place we call home? How long do I give him to change?” Anger coursed through Shea’s voice. He wasn’t putting this all on her shoulders. She didn’t know a lot about relationships, but she knew they were a partnership, each person responsible for the well-being of the whole. She couldn’t do it on her own nor did she want to.
“No, of course not. Hold him responsible. Let him feel your anger. Just don’t run away. Don’t shut him out.” This last was said with a meaningful look.
Shea flushed and looked away, knowing she was at fault for that last one. Had already fallen back on it the night before.
He made a slight huff of acknowledgement seeing his words had scored a point. “We’re warriors and not often given to soft words, but he cares for you. Probably more than any other person in this world. All I’m asking is that you give him a chance to find his way back before you do anything drastic.”
There was a small sound at the entrance of the tent. Shea looked up to find Fallon standing there, his eyes shadowed and his face expressionless.
Darius aimed a smile at Fallon and raised his cup. “We’re drinking. Join us.”
Fallon’s eyes went to Shea and then back to Darius. He advanced, grabbing a goblet from the long table and then settling on a pillow across from Shea. Darius poured him some wine and sat back.
Shea sipped hers while avoiding looking at Fallon. She held herself stiff and straight.
“How many of our men do you think will have stories of this oasis tomorrow?” Darius asked. “Some of those women were eyeing us like they were preparing for a feast. I’ve never seen the like in Lowlanders. If I didn’t know better, I would say there is Trateri blood in their past.”
“The Airabel are few, and the isolation of their home and events in the past have led to the danger of inbreeding. They are most likely hoping your men can give them new bloodlines,” Shea said.
Darius aimed an affronted look her way. “You mean they plan to use us as broodmares.”
“In this instance, I think it would be more like stallions.”
“Well, don’t that just beat all. This land gets stranger and stranger all the time.” He leaned forward. “Do they actually think we’d leave our children behind?”
Shea gave him a quizzical look.
Fallon answered her unspoken question. “The Trateri love children. Our lives are hard and dangerous. Every life is a precious gift. If my men were to sire children, they would take them with them when we left.”
Shea shrugged. “Only if they knew about them ahead of time. They’re betting that by the time the women show, your army will have moved on. It’s unlikely that you’ll be in this area again anytime soon, and by the time they circle back the women will have given birth and claimed their own people sired the children.”
Both men stared at her with twin looks of distaste.
“I will let the men know to be careful with the women. We’ll leave a detachment behind to keep an eye out for any births,” Darius told Fallon.
Fallon shook his head. “Of all the things I thought we’d face, I never thought we’d be in danger of Lowlanders making off with our unborn children.”
“It’s an ever-changing world, my friend.” Darius drained his wine and stood, leaving the half-finished bottle behind. “Well, I’m off.”
Shea looked up, a little surprised at the abrupt departure. Fallon, with his typical granite facade, didn’t even twitch. He took a slow sip of the wine and acknowledged Darius’s departure with a nod.
“Before I go, I suggest you take a look at your personal chambers.” With that last remark, Darius made his departure.
Fallon’s head tilted as he stared into his wine. Suspicion dawned on his face and he stood, making his way to their personal quarters without a word. Shea let him go as she calmly sipped her wine.
Three, two, one.
There was a crash in the other room and a stream of curses reached her ears. She trained her eyes on the front entrance and was only mildly surprised when no one ventured in to see if they were in any danger. Darius must have warned them. Smart man.
“Would you like to explain why there is a new entrance to our bedchamber?” Fallon’s silky voice came from behind Shea.
“You’re smart. I’m sure you can figure it out.” Shea took another sip of her wine.
He prowled closer, his movements containing a lethal edge.
“You were going to leave me.” He sounded like the very idea that she would contemplate such an action enraged him.
She raised an eyebrow. “Now why would I want to do that?” She gave him a long minute to answer. His eyes narrowed, taking on a dangerous glint “Ah, yes. Perhaps that’s because you treated me like a prisoner, having your guards keep me here whether I wanted to or not.”
He looked away. She felt a spurt of grim satisfaction. He knew he was in the wrong.
“That was for your own safety.”
“Bullshit. That was because you were angry and wanted to take it out on me.” She waited for him to correct her. When he didn’t, she continued, “I’m here because I want to be here. The next time you do something like that, expect me to be gone.”
She set her glass down and stood. Shea walked past an unmoving Fallon to their chamber, saying over her shoulder, “I suggest you station one of your men at our new entrance so that we’re not murdered in our sleep by one of your many enemies.”