SHEA LANDED on the ground with a body on top of hers. She twisted and turned, using her elbows to strike at the person behind her. She kicked back, gratified when she heard a grunt behind her.
“Shea, it’s me. Fallon. Quit fighting.”
Shea stilled. She turned her head to see an irate pair of whiskey colored eyes looking down into hers.
“Fallon.” All of the fight left her. She collapsed onto the ground, her body boneless with relief. Her limbs had a fine tremble in them, a remnant of the adrenaline that had driven her body until now and the fear from when Fallon had grabbed her.
He looked down at her with puzzlement and then looked around them. “Where’s Trenton? Tell me you didn’t ditch your guard again.”
“We got separated after someone shot an arrow at us.”
Fallon’s attention swung back to Shea. His body went from relaxed against hers, to hard as granite. His gaze swung to the forest around them, taking on a watchful look.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet before setting off into the woods with her towed behind him. One hand rested on the long dagger at his waist.
“How long ago was this?”
Shea tried to think. Time had gotten away from her while she’d been playing cat and mouse. “An hour maybe. I’m not sure.”
“Did you see them?”
Shea winced as his words reminded her of the last time she’d seen those two. With sleeper vines wrapped around them, screaming in pain and fear.
“You could say that.”
His stride didn’t hesitate, covering the forest floor quickly. Shea kept up easily. He still hadn’t let go of her hand.
“They’re probably dead right now. They followed me into a nest of sleeper vines. I don’t think they made it out.” Because of Shea.
“Good.” Fallon’s words were curt as they moved through the forest at a quick clip. “That saves me from having to kill them. When we get back, you can give us a general idea of where you left them, and I’ll send some men to retrieve their remains if there are any. It would have been nice to be able to interrogate them.”
Shea’s reply was faint when it came. “I’ll endeavor to remember that next time.”
Fallon looked back and flashed her an amused look. “You do that, and Darius will worship at your feet.”
“What every girl dreams of.”
“More women than I can count have expressed that desire,” Fallon said. “He’s considered one of the best catches in my army by man or woman.”
“No wonder he’s so arrogant,” Shea said. She was beginning to feel better. Stronger and less shaky. She felt more herself again.
If she remembered correctly, they were close to where Clark and she had stashed the tools to make the beast tracks. They shouldn’t be more than a few minutes from the field where the game had started.
They entered the clearing at a near run. Several of Fallon’s Anateri, including Caden, waited in a clump next to the table of refreshments that had been set up for the end of the game. Trenton was among them, his clothes disheveled and stained with dirt and blood. He had a bandage wrapped around one arm.
The Anateri were armed and looked like they were organizing a search party.
Fallon hailed them as he and Shea came out of the forest. Caden whistled and his men surrounded them, providing a barrier. Anyone attempting to shoot an arrow would not find Shea an easy target.
“Get men into the forest to perform a search,” Fallon ordered as soon as he was in hearing distance of Caden. “Shea said her attackers disturbed a nest of sleeper vines, but there may have been others. I want everyone still out there rounded up and questioned.”
Caden turned and made a few gestures to his men.
Trenton stood straight, relief in his eyes at the sight of Shea. “When I realized we’d been separated, I returned to organize a search. It’s my fault she was in danger. I’ll accept any punishment you deem fit.”
Shea rolled her eyes. The gods save her from arrogant nitwits who wanted to fall on their swords.
Trenton saw her and frowned, his expression stern.
“Oh please, you were in no way responsible for us getting separated. If anything, I know you stayed behind to try to cover my escape,” Shea told him, ignoring the frown he aimed her way.
Trenton ignored her and straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. “Nevertheless, she was my charge and I failed her.”
Shea narrowed her eyes on him. The stupid idiot was going to get himself into unnecessary trouble for something he couldn’t control. If anyone had been at fault, it was Shea. After those first few arrows, she had run without paying much attention to anything but escape. It was a stupid mistake that a daisy would make. She should have kept her head and wits about her.
“That’s a ridiculous claim,” she said. “Stop being noble. It wasn’t your fault we got separated or that a couple of lackwits with arrows put me in danger.”
Fallon looked between the two of them with a thoughtful expression on his face. “I agree with Trenton.”
Shea scoffed and turned to him with anger dawning on her face.
He held up a hand to forestall her coming words. “His punishment will be to train you to prepare for all sorts of situations that might come up so that next time you can react with more skill. I also think continuing as your personal guard will be punishment enough for his transgressions.”
Fallon gave her a pointed look. Her mouth snapped shut as she frowned at him. She resented the fact that he had made it seem as if guarding her was a punishment, but she couldn’t argue with him without putting Trenton’s neck back on the chopping block. Fallon had unreasonably high expectations for his guards. She didn’t want to be the one responsible if anything happened to Trenton.
Tricky, tricky Warlord.
She’d like to argue against the need for more training but the events of today had shown a huge gap in her skills. She’d survived because she was lucky. There was a good chance she wouldn’t be the next time an enemy came for her.
She turned to Trenton. “I guess we’ll be spending more time in the training arena once you’re healed.”
“There are people she can train with until you’re cleared for duty again,” Caden told Trenton. He turned his head towards her. “I will take over your training until Trenton can work with you.”
Great. The only person worse than Trenton was Caden. She’d seen him train with Fallon. The man was a dictator. One who was relentless and tireless. She nodded her agreement. Arguing was useless, and a little time spent with him could make a difference down the road.
“I’ve dispatched several teams to sweep this section of the forest. They’ll report back when they’ve finished,” Caden told Fallon.
Before Fallon could respond, a large shadow blotted out the sun streaming through the forest branches as screams rose from the encampment. Shea looked up to see golden feathered wings as large as a house.
“Golden eagle.”
Shea hit the ground, pulling Fallon down with her. Caden and Trenton followed, landing with a thump.
The eagle swooped down, overshooting Shea and the rest to pluck a horse from an enclosure. The horse screamed with fear, its legs kicking before it went still as the eagle’s claws broke its neck.
Another eagle dropped from the sky. This time rising with a person in its clutches.
Shea’s heart thundered in her ears. The leftover adrenaline that had been in her system earlier flooded through her, erasing any fatigue.
This wasn’t right. How were the golden eagles here? Their territory was the mountains and plains, where pickings were easy, and their movements unhampered by the giant vegetation of the forest.
Shea watched as one of the eagles tried to lift off and had to drop its prey when it couldn’t extend its wings because of trees hemming it in on either side. The person it dropped crawled toward an upraised tree root as the bird hopped awkwardly after him. Its talons carved deep grooves in the wood.
“Attack its wings,” Fallon ordered Caden. “Don’t let it back into the air.”
Caden let out a roar. The Anateri followed him. Some held spears and others bows and arrows. They circled the bird and worked on bringing it down while it mantled its wings at them and gave a screech of warning.
Shea grabbed Fallon’s arm before he could run to help. “Its eyesight is incredibly sharp. It can spot prey from a mile away. Don’t let it back in the air. It can be out of the range of your weapons in seconds and dive on you before you can blink. Stay close to the trees as much as possible. It’ll make it harder to maneuver there.”
Fallon nodded. He brushed her cheek with a gentle touch and then was gone.
A hand fell on Shea’s arm. Trenton’s expression was grave. “We need to go.”
Shea nodded. Yes, they did. The second one would come back for its mate.
As she stood, she glanced back at the forest and paused. A figure stood in its shadows. She could have sworn she recognized him. His shape was familiar, the way he carried himself. Though the distance made her second guess herself. There was no way it could be him. He was dead. Had been since their trip into the Badlands.
An eagle screamed, just as it dived into the camp. The Trateri split, some racing to meet the coming danger while the young and non-warriors raced to find shelter. Shea followed along, knowing that she’d just get in the way. She wasn’t trained for combat and had not trained to be part of a team.
She ran beside Trenton, trying not to get swept along with the press of humanity.
There was a war cry above her and a villager from Airabel flung a spear at one of the eagles. Another leapt through the air, freefalling until he landed on the back of an eagle, taking a knife to the beast’s neck until blood dotted its feathers.
The eagles were swarming. Shea had only seen the like one other time in her life. The Badlands. This scene was as bad as any she fought there. Terror was a wild beast in her chest.
Another eagle dived, while its companion fought off the man from Airabel. This time there was no scream as it rose, blond curls draped over its talons.
“Mist! Trenton, it has Mist.” Shea pointed at the eagle that struggled to flap its way to safety. It turned as villagers shot a hail of arrows at it.
Trenton looked up and cursed. “Shea, wait.”
Shea didn’t wait. She ran along the ground keeping the eagle in sight as it careened through the forest, its wings too big. They brushed the sides of the trees as it fought to rise.
Shea found a ladder leading into the trees and started to climb. One hand over the other as fast as she could. Reaching a rope bridge above, she pulled herself up and ran along it, shadowing the eagle below.
She leapt into empty space when she ran out of bridge and barely landed on another tree’s oversized branch. They were in the mid canopy. The branches weren’t as tightly woven as they were in the world above. She had to pay attention to where she placed her feet. It would be easy to fall here.
The eagle flapped as it fought through the dense forest and gave a battle cry as Trateri soldiers forced it back. Shea turned, following a branch.
There. That was her chance.
She leapt, grabbing a hanging vine and swinging out into air. She let go and fell, her heart in her throat and utterly focused as the eagle grew in size beneath her. She landed on its back, sliding down until her hands managed to grip tight onto its feathers.
The wings flapped, hitting her on the side of the face. She bit her tongue but held on.
Mist whimpered from where she was clutched in the beast’s claws.
Shea clung to the bird. She hadn’t thought this plan through before she implemented it. Impulsiveness was really going to get her killed one day.
She couldn’t kill the beast with Mist clutched in its claws. It would mostly likely result in Mist’s death as well as Shea’s when they all went crashing to the ground.
Shea waited, drawing the dagger she’d grabbed when the beasts first attacked. She’d need to time this very carefully.
An eagle could open and close its claws at will. Right now, it held Mist lightly enough that the girl hadn’t been killed. Probably because the eagle wanted its prey alive for whatever reason.
Shea waited until they were over a soft-looking copse of tangled branches and vines, interwoven, thin and flexible enough that they might slow Mist’s fall but not be as hard as the ground.
Shea struck, sinking her blade into the eagle’s side again and again. The beast thrashed beneath her. There was a short gasp of breath as it released the girl. Shea buried her blade one last time before pushing off.
Her freefall was cut short as she crashed into the branches, lacerations forming where her skin dragged along the sharp wood. She fell through the first layer, each branch flipping her a different way as they broke under her. She came to a stop, hanging upside down, her leg caught between two branches.
That was such a bad idea. On the scale of bad ideas, it was probably one that would go into the history books.
Shea groaned. Every bone in her body felt that fall. “Let’s never do that again.”
There was a rustling in the branches next to her and then blond curls coupled with watery blue eyes peered out at Shea.
“Hey, sweetie. Are you hurt anywhere?”
Mist shook her head.
Shea closed her eyes. “That’s good.”
“Shea! Shea, where are you? Answer me.” Trenton’s voice came from below. He sounded frantic.
“Here, we’re over here!” Shea yelled back.
Curses sounded from below them and then the sound of a man grunting and hacking at the branches they were incased in.
They’d landed in a copse of boughs that grew tightly together with very little space between. It looked like a prison made of very thin wood.
Shea used her abs to lift up, grabbing a branch near her foot with one hand to redistribute her weight as she wiggled her foot free. There would be no living it down, if Trenton discovered her stuck upside down. She yanked her foot once more and then fell, landing hard on her back. A sword cut through some of the boughs next to her.
Trenton peered in, taking note of Shea sprawled on her back and Mist above her.
“Help Mist, first,” Shea ordered.
He didn’t argue, turning his attention to the little girl. “Come here, child. Let’s get you to safety.”
“It’s probably safest here,” Shea said, sitting up with a grimace.
“The soldiers drove off the eagles they didn’t manage to kill. It should be safe for now.”
That was a relief.
Trenton held the girl as he and Shea worked their way back down to the forest floor. They weren’t as high up as Shea had thought. Her previous calculations had been off.
It was a relief to reach the ground, though she kept one eye on the forest above them. The fear of another attack was ever present. She wasn’t the only one feeling it either. The Trateri they passed were preoccupied with the world above. Much more so than she had ever seen them before. Several soldiers kept watch on the canopy as others tended to the destruction on the ground. Healers assisted the wounded.
Trenton, carrying Mist, opened a path before them. The Trateri moved out of their way as they walked, some giving Shea a bow, others clasping their fist to their chest. Shea gave a small nod in acknowledgement before turning her eyes ahead. The attention made her skin itch.
“Why are they bowing?” she whispered to Trenton.
“They saw what you did for Mist. They’re paying you their respects.”
“I thought she was an orphan, not worth anything to the clans.”
“You put your life on the line for the least of us. It means something.”
She disagreed with the thought that Mist meant less than the rest of the Trateri, but she could see what he meant. She fell silent as they made their way to Fallon’s tent.
“Send a healer inside, now.” Trenton gave the order as he walked past the two Anateri standing guard. Both men looked at Shea, their eyes widening and shock turning their faces pale before one took off at a run to do his bidding.
She touched her forehead, her fingers coming away with blood. Judging by their reactions, she must have looked pretty bad.
She followed Trenton inside. He set the child on a chair in front of the table. He picked up a handkerchief and tossed it at Shea. “If you ever want to leave this tent without a full escort, I suggest you get yourself cleaned up before Fallon sees you.”
She took that to mean she was right, and she looked as awful as she felt.
He turned back to the child as Shea pressed the cloth against her head, wincing at the sting. Head wounds were the worst. They always bled way more than they should.
Chirron entered the tent while Shea was still mopping up the blood from her forehead and neck. It had dripped onto the collar of her shirt, and her pants were ripped and bloody from the scrapes on her legs.
Chirron’s face was carefully blank as he cataloged Shea’s injuries with a glance.
“Help the girl first,” Shea said when it was clear he planned to attend her first.
He spared a glance at the girl as Trenton gently lifted her arms and pressed against her ribs. Mist jumped, making a whimpering sound as she yanked her arm out of his hold and folded it against her side.
Chirron looked back at Shea. “All due respect, but the girl’s injuries, or even death, would not affect the Trateri as much as yours would.”
“Not to mention your Warlord is apt to throw things if he learned I was delayed in receiving a healer’s attention,” Shea observed.
Chirron inclined his head. “I’m glad you can see my view on this.”
Shea nodded. She hoped he could hold onto that feeling.
She held up a hand as he reached for her. “As much as I can empathize with your position, I still insist you see to the girl’s injuries first.”
She gave him a friendly smile. He didn’t look particularly moved by her smile. Perhaps it needed work. She touched the cloth to her forehead, or maybe it just needed less blood.
“Telroi. Fallon would not be pleased to learn I treated another before you.”
Shea snapped the cloth down. “I know very well what Fallon would want. Can you honestly tell me he wouldn’t wish one of his men treated before him?” She raised an eyebrow expectantly.
He met her stare with a stubborn one of his own. She took his silence as agreement.
“My injuries aren’t critical and hers might be. The sooner you check her out, the sooner you can move on to me.” She gave him a stony look, the one she gave Fallon when she wasn’t going to budge on something. “If you hurry, you might even be able to finish her examination before Fallon tracks us down.”
His lips firmed, and he treated her to the glare she was more used to. “As you wish.”
Good. She’d finally won one battle.
Trenton stood back, setting his hand on Mist’s shoulder as Chirron took a knee before her and gave her a friendly smile.
“Let’s get you checked out, shall we?”
She gazed at him solemnly, her lower lip sticking out just slightly. Mist watched as he felt along her legs and arms. When he reached for her ribs, she jerked away and looked at Shea.
“It’s alright, Mist. He’s not going to harm you. He just needs to see where you’re hurt,” Shea told her. “Can you show him where you’re hurt?”
Mist nodded, the dirt on her cheeks making her seem even younger than she was. She lifted her shirt and pointed to the already purpling band appearing around her midsection. There were also signs of older bruises lower on her stomach and small burn marks that definitely hadn’t been created when the eagle picked her up in its claws. In addition to almost being killed by a beast, the girl had been abused in the not so distant past.
There was a low curse above her as Trenton took a deep breath. Shea didn’t let any of the horror and pity she felt show on her face.
“Thank you, Mist. You did a good job.” Shea gave the little girl a smile and turned her eyes to Chirron whose face had settled into a grim mask. Wrath was in his eyes as he helped the little girl lower her shirt.
“Stay here with Trenton while I speak with the healer.” Shea jerked her head to indicate he follow her. She stood, her body protesting the movement, and led the way to the other side of the tent, far enough that Mist wouldn’t overhear their conversation.
Shea waited as Chirron joined her. He took several deep breaths, visibly trying to calm himself, before speaking, “Her injuries from the attack by the eagle are minor, all things considered. I will need to keep an eye on her for the next little while to make sure there is no internal bleeding and create a poultice to address some of the bruising.”
Shea watched him carefully. Despite his measured words, she got the sense he was seconds away from snapping. She liked him better for the obvious anger he felt over the apparent abuse the girl had suffered.
“And the rest?”
He took another deep breath and busied himself adjusting the bracelet on his wrist. Shea let him, knowing he needed time to compose himself.
“There are signs of long-term abuse. I can’t be sure, but I believe at least one of her arms has been broken in the past. There is also scar tissue from being burned.”
It was Shea’s turn to seek her composure, even as her blood sung for vengeance against whoever had hurt that sweet child. She had never sought violence, but she thought she might finally understand Fallon a little better. It took her considerable discipline not to tear out of this tent to hunt down the perpetrators. The only thing keeping her in place was the knowledge that it would be difficult to find those responsible.
That’s not to say that if she ever did uncover who hurt Mist, she wouldn’t relish leading them into a spinner nest or a pack of revenants. She might even get creative and track down some of the more vicious beasts, the ones that would make the person suffer before eating them.
“I thought the Trateri protected their young,” Shea said, unable to bite back the words.
Chirron’s nostrils flared. “They do, but we have our bad seeds, just as everybody else. Those that did this will be found and dealt with. The Warlord will make sure of it.”
Fallon moved into view, his eyes coming to rest on Shea and Chirron. He had a streak of blood on one cheek and a cut on his arm. He looked like he’d been in a battle, his body tense, and his posture poised for an attack at any time. His expression darkened at the sight of Shea, still bloody, her wounds untreated.
“I had not realized I had given you permission to make promises on my behalf,” Fallon said, his tone silky.
Chirron watched him with caution, like one would a large mountain lion that you were pretty sure saw you as its next meal.
“May I ask why my Telroi is standing with her wounds untreated and blood covering her while you make such claims?” he asked, his voice rising with every word.
“Perhaps because there was someone here who needed help first,” Shea told him, shooting a meaningful look in Mist’s direction. The girl cowered in her seat, her chest heaving up and down as she looked at Fallon like he was a wolf about to pounce on her. “Or would you like to tell me that her needs are less important than mine?”
Shea’s expression told him there was only one right answer to that question.
His jaw flexed, and he lowered his chin to send her a look that could have shorn boulders in half. Chirron and Trenton looked like they were trying to make themselves invisible during the silent showdown between Shea and Fallon.
“My mistake. Of course, the child should receive attention first. They are our future.” Fallon conceded his loss with a graceful incline of his head. “Now that she has been helped, perhaps Chirron can get on with tending to your injuries while you update me on who I am supposed to find and kill.”
Shea’s shoulders rose and fell as she took a deep breath. That was probably the best apology she was going to get. The implacable look on Fallon’s face told her he wasn’t budging from his spot until she let Chirron tend to her.
“They’re superficial wounds,” she told Fallon.
“Then this should go quickly so Chirron can tend to the more gravely injured among my people.”
Or he could drop this and allow Chirron to get to more important duties now. That wasn’t going to happen though.
Shea’s sigh was gusty as she held the cloth she’d used to blot away some of the blood out to Chirron. He took it and pointed her to a seat.
She sat and held still as he pressed against the skin around the cut on her forehead. A cool, almost numbing sensation spread from the places where he touched. It wasn’t enough to dim all the pain, however. Fallon hovered over them looking like he wanted to shed Chirron’s blood every time Shea winced.
She needed something to distract her from Chirron’s probing fingers or else she feared he wouldn’t live through tending to her wounds.
“How are your men?” she asked.
“Fine. There were a few casualties, but we managed to bring down several of the eagles.”
Several. She still found that strange. It was damn near impossible for that many to gather.
“We were lucky they attacked here, where their movement was hampered. On the plains or in the mountains we would have faced much greater losses.”
That was another thing. Why had they attacked here? This wasn’t their natural hunting grounds. She’d listened to many stories told by the Airabel villagers, and they had almost no references to the golden eagles that plagued much of the Highlands and Lowlands.
“How did the Airabel villagers fare?” Shea asked.
“They suffered some losses. Many of their warriors fought honorably from above to keep the eagles from carrying off their victims. Their actions have won them much favor from my generals. Eckbert has volunteered his healers to help assist the wounded,” Fallon said.
“I need to talk with Eckbert.” Shea pushed Chirron’s hands away. Something about this didn’t sit right with her.
“I’m not done,” Chirron snapped, slapping a hand onto her shoulder and pushing her back down. “You’ll go nowhere until I’ve cleaned and put stiches in this cut.”
Shea glared up at Chirron. She had places to be and people to question. There were more important things to take care of than treating her superficial injuries. Chirron raised one eyebrow, his expression saying he wasn’t impressed with her glare. He gave Fallon a pointed look.
Fallon stood watching them, with his arms folded across his chest and a frown on his face. He looked seconds away from throwing things.
Shea saw his point. “At least send someone for Eckbert.”
Fallon gestured and one of the men in the room with them left. Shea presumed on the errand of summoning the village elder.
“Now that that’s taken care of, perhaps you can hold still.” Chirron didn’t wait for her agreement, pressing a cloth he’d soaked with a liquid to the cuts on Shea’s forehead. She hissed as it stung.
“The pain will do you good,” Chirron said, bending closer to get a better look at what he was working with. “The liquid will keep you from getting an infection and reduce signs of scarring.”
“Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired,” Shea told him.
He picked up her hand and pressed it to the cloth on her head. She kept it there as he turned and busied himself with his satchel of supplies.
“I treat warriors all day. Men who think they are immune to such common ailments as infection. I’ve learned to be direct.”
Shea snorted. She could believe that.
“If this can reduce scaring, it’s a wonder your soldiers have so many of them,” Shea told Fallon.
Chirron paused in what he was doing and looked up. “His men can’t be bothered with such things. They believe scars are a sign of strength.”
Fallon’s eyebrows were just barely lifted, and his mouth curved down with just the slightest hint of disdain. He gave them a long stare that said he had no interest in this conversation.
“Warlord, I’ve brought the village elder,” one of Fallon’s Anateri said from the entrance. He stepped aside to allow Eckbert to enter.
Eckbert was clad in leather armor and carried a quiver in one hand and a bow across his back. His face had been painted so that he would blend in with the forest and his eyes held a fierce light. One that she had seen many times in Fallon’s. This man was a warrior—old and past his prime, but he still held that spirit, and his garments and weapons said he was prepared to defend his people to the death.
Shea blinked at the odd vision. Eckbert had always seemed like a harmless old man.
“I’ve positioned my men in the trees surrounding this area. If there is another incursion by the eagles, they will sound the horn so our vulnerable can take cover.” Eckbert’s eyes landed on where Chirron was tending to her cuts and softened. “I am glad to see your adventures haven’t left you too worse for wear.”
Shea stiffened as her eyes slid to Fallon. She’d been hoping he wouldn’t hear about her jumping onto the back of a golden eagle while it was in flight. The downward turn of his mouth said that was a futile hope and probably had been since the beginning. The Trateri gossiped as much as any group of old wives she had encountered in the Highlands.
“Thank you,” she told Eckbert. “Your men’s assistance saved my life and Mist’s. I don’t think I would have been able to get the eagle to drop us if they hadn’t attacked it from above.”
“Yes, you have my gratitude,” Fallon said, his voice a deep rumble. “Your people have shown honor and bravery. I will be glad to have them in my army.”
Eckbert eyes got that familiar crafty gleam. “Perhaps my men will bring back Trateri wives and cement our bond by combining our bloodlines.”
Fallon’s lips twisted in amusement. “Perhaps.
“Did you lose many?” Trenton asked.
Eckbert’s eyebrows lowered and his cheeks sagged. Sadness coated his face. “Any loss cuts deep. Our people weren’t prepared, many of our most vulnerable fell to these creatures.”
“Has there ever been an attack of this nature before?” Shea asked, leaning to the side so she could see Eckbert better. She received a cuff to the head from Chirron. She glared up at him but sat back and let him clean the wound.
“I’ve asked my elders to review our oral history. I can say they haven’t attacked in so many generations that they’ve faded from our collective memory. It seems many things that were once myth are returning to this world.” His face turned grim. “I fear my people are not prepared for this.”
Shea feared the same. The Airabel knew the dangers of their forest and could slip through it like ghosts. With the outside world encroaching on their lives, they would have to adjust quickly or fall into the void like so many villages before them.
“Have your men get in touch with the Wind Division commander, Eamon,” Shea said. “He can give you some basic information about what you might be facing.”
It wasn’t much, but it was all she could give right now.
“What about your people?” Eckbert asked. “I know they have much knowledge that can be shared, and we have been on friendly terms in the past.”
Shea’s gaze turned inwards. The pathfinders, for all their knowledge, were loath to help others seeking guidance. They hoarded what they knew like dragons on a pile of gold, viewing any who had not taken their oaths as being unworthy.
“They are far from here. It would take months for any message you sent to reach them and be returned.” Shea settled on her response.
“And the pathfinder Reece?” Eckbert lifted an eyebrow, intelligence shining in his face. This was no befuddled old man. There was a reason he’d gotten to his position. Shea was willing to bet he used the persona of a kindly old man only intent on procreation to lure many off their guard. “I assume he is still alive. He could have much to share with us.”
Fallon unfolded his arms. “He is alive, but he will stay with us. I still have business with him.”
Yes, the pathfinder Reece. A man who had shown up mere days before this attack.
Chirron held up a needle and thread. “Hold still.”
He pulled the skin taut.
Something didn’t sit right with Shea. There was more to this. And she was betting Reece had some of the answers.
Shea pushed Chirron’s hands away, ignoring his squawk of protest. “I want to see Reece.”
She popped to her feet without waiting for a response.
“Where do you think you’re going? Sit back down. I still need to stitch up your wounds.” Chirron’s voice was angry as it followed her out of the tent.
Fallon was beside her. “Shea.”
“Where is he?” Shea waited a beat, holding Fallon’s eyes. He frowned at her, his eyebrows lowering.
She turned away. Fine. If he wasn’t going to answer, she’d find him herself even if she had to search every tent in this place.