Scet stilled.
An orb.
The last month he had spent, miserable and alone in the forest, because of such a thing. Because the Dragon Lords of the Amber Aerie had sought a weapon that would bypass his people in their fight against the Quatori.
Knowledge, admittedly, he shouldn't have had, but it took Lady Gayriel, the Alpha's Mate, sometime before she learned how to stop sending every thought through their link.
And now Adda spoke of it, as well.
“Do you have any idea the danger you play with?” he asked her.
Those beautiful lips pulled downward, so that he had to tear his gaze from them. Her eyes widened slightly. No, she had no idea of the danger.
One thousand years of treaty, built on the tentative dependence of Shifters and Dragon Lords upon one another. An alliance that was faltering, at best...so long as it was a necessity.
The orb—Six even the idea of the orb—could change all that. Isn't that what the disaster of the delegation had proven? The Lords of the Onyx Aerie had broken the treaty with their pack, he narrowed his eyes at Adda, her pack. The only thing that had prevented war between the races was that they had avoided any actual violence toward the Shifters when they exiled them from the Onyx Aerie. Their home.
And even his Aerie was not immune to such folly, lured outward with the false information of the orbs whereabouts.
It was obvious to Scet that the old alliances were breaking. The Dragons already had far too much advantage over his people. If they retrieved this orb, this weapon, then it was the Shifters who would suffer for it. For, like it or not, Shifters needed the Dragons, as well.
There is Firestriker, he reminded himself. The general of the warriors of the Amber Aerie, and a half breed, one with loyalty to both races. And he had finally managed to get the man to accept the Alpha position, ensuring his duty lie to the Shifters of the Aerie, as well. Perhaps, that would be enough for the Amber Aerie pack.
But there were many, many packs remaining that didn't have such protection. And with the new developments the Quatori were making...he feared that things might topple back into a war of races once more. A war that would devastate the forest.
He couldn't allow that to happen.
He eyed Adda suspiciously. She stood before him, shuffling slightly beneath his inspection. What did she have to do with it? Because she was hiding something, he could sense a secret on her as easily as if it had a physical smell.
He was going to have to find out everything about her. The forest might depend on it.
***
It was becoming slightly uncomfortable beneath Scet's gaze. He didn't speak after his initial warning, but there was a pressure in his attention that made it clear he expected her to explain further.
“You're alarming the woman with that display, Shifter,” Strale strode out from behind the base of a tree, idly twirling a fat leaf that he plucked from a shrub as he went.
Adda cursed herself and threw up the mental barriers she had learned as a child. She knew better than to let her emotions through, not around Dragon Lords. It was just that she had so rarely been around Dragon Lords, at all, and keeping up the permanent block was tiring.
If Strale's words embarrassed Scet, he didn't show it. Apparently, he had remembered his block. His eyes widened and he shook his head a fraction, warning her not to continue their conversation, but after that he continued to watch her, in the uncomfortable way a predator might watch its prey.
“You two haven't made it far, I flew nearly two miles past here before realizing I must have missed you.”
“Yes, well, leaping about the trees isn't nearly as fast as flying above them,” Adda turned from Scet's intense scrutiny. The relief she felt was tempered by the fact that she could feel his gaze boring into her back. She didn't mention that Scet might have swung through the trees at a much higher speed, it was her own weakness that had slowed them down.
“But why climb around in the trees? I told you I would distract them.” His question...or accusation was more like it, was directed at Scet.
“Illaise is not as likely to catch our scent if it is not where she expects it.”
“I told you not to worry.”
Scet's hazel eyes turned to the Lord. Adda relaxed an iota more, at least he was glaring at someone else now.
“And I told you not to engage Illaise. If you have harmed her, Firestriker will not forgive you.”
“Relax Shifter, I simply led them back toward the Aerie...and then gave them something to keep them occupied for a while.”
Scet's eyes narrowed, “And what something would that be?”
“There happened to be a black petrifying wasp nest in one of the trees I passed. It made its way to the trail they were running.”
Adda winced in sympathy. The sting of the black petrifying wasp was not deadly, but it did seize one's muscles painfully and could often leave one stiff and laying paralyzed for several hours.
“Now, I can take the woman...”
Adda sent Strale her strongest look of distaste.
He cleared his throat, “...Adda...westward, if that's where she chooses to go. If we fly, it should take no more than a few hours.”
She hesitated. The idea that she might be so close to her goal was appealing. But Dragon flight had its disadvantages, too.
“I have made it clear you will not be carrying her anywhere.”
“You have a better plan? If you are not interested in going you could return to your cabin,” Strale's upper lip curled as he said the word, indicating just what he thought of the rough, sagging building.
“I find that I have become interested in going,” Scet announced, surprising her, but somehow she wasn't sure his announcement boded well for her. “But we will travel my way.”
“And add unnecessary hours? My way is much faster.”
“Unless you can carry both of us, we travel on the ground.”
Strale scowled. “Are you suggesting I will leave you behind? Or are you worried about the woman's honor where I am concerned?”
“You have yet to inspire confidence in your level of responsibility for either.”
Amber flashed in the Dragon Lord's eyes. “Fine,” he said at last, “we will go your way, but no swamps, and if the insects start to bite my man region, I will fly ahead without either of you.”
Scet tilted his head and considered, “Agreed.”
Once again she was offered no say in the matter.
She could hardly complain, she supposed, because for once, things were finally going her way. She risked a glance at Scet and he studied her in return, determination pressing his brows together.
She hoped.
***
Travel became more difficult as they moved westward. The forest terrain, with its wide valleys and rocky crags, progressed into narrow gullies between crevices and cliffs. The hills sharpened, their rounded tops becoming treacherous stone peaks bursting forth from the forest. There was a road, somewhere in the area that led from Breakfoot path, but Scet insisted they avoid it, taking the circuitous route around the twists and turns between peaks instead.
The slow progress, and the various plants that plotted Adda's downfall by grabbing at her tangled locks, or leaving long scratches on her limbs, left her regretting the decree about flying. Only one thing kept her going the last hour, she scented water.
They were getting close, too, creeping along a smaller, less used game trail. The sound had become apparent nearly as soon as the scent; some small stream or river, rushing along a rock bed or over a small set of falls. Fortunately, both men had changed course wordlessly toward it. They had done almost everything wordlessly, but she couldn't find herself disappointed. She was desperate for the relief of water, and she did not wish to waste more time with futile arguments. The silence was actually relieving. They might not care greatly about one another, but they did seem committed to offering her protection, for now, and they were aiding her cause...for now. It was more than she had expected, so she would have to settle for it.
The falls turned out to be the emergence of an underground stream. It burst from a tunnel on the sheer side of a hill very much like the one they had rested upon earlier. It was not as tall or voracious as its noise led one to believe, either, and it fell down thirty feet into a deep pool. The forest crowded the water's edge, branches, vines, and even flowers thrusting out as far as they could from the banks and into the sunlight the natural break opened up.
“I need to wash,” Adda announced. The words came out a little unexpectedly, but once they passed her lips she clung to them. She did need to wash, and suddenly it was a need as great as eating or drinking. The idea of passing by without cleaning was unbearable.
Scet paused at the pool's edge, scrutinizing the far bank and the cliff-top.
Strale took no such precaution. He strode forward eagerly and dove beneath the water's surface, emerging with the grace of a natural born water creature and throwing water droplets everywhere, specifically down his broad shoulders and along his abdomen. Adda's eyes followed their movement. She had spent the last few hours resolutely keeping her gaze on the dirt and foliage around her, determined to avoid admiring any male form. In fact, she had spent it recalling Bakkus and reminding herself of the long list of reasons men were stupid.
But it was hard to avoid looking when presented with such an obvious display. Sadly, being inundated with superior male specimens was not helping her control her lustful thoughts. She blinked stupidly and turned her head, but she could feel the blush creep along her neck and into her face. When she focused once more, she found herself staring straight at Scet.
A dark frown crossed his features.
“Dragon Lord,” he began, his voice low and slightly muffled, as if he were gritting his teeth.
“This is going to be a long journey if we keep calling each other 'Dragon Lord' and 'Shifter',” Strale noted.
“It is unwise to create such noise in unknown areas of the forest, this is not your protected and pampered Aerie.”
“Strale. This is not your protected and pampered Aerie, Strale. And you worry too much. The falls splash far more than I do, nothing will hear me over the noise, not even the Quatori.” He tossed some water in the air, making his point.
A little growl escaped Scet. The Lord was poking at his patience.
Strale strode outward from the pool, oblivious to the tension, or perhaps he just didn't care. He shook out his limbs and ran a hand through the golden hair. It had come unbound and dripped sparkling droplets onto his shoulders. He took the time to wring it out, his head bent to the side. He peered at her while he did, from under water spiked lashes.
“Do you need aid washing, Adda? You haven't started and you look...tired.”
She snorted to herself. She looked more than tired, her days in the cavern were not kind to her appearance.
“If you wish to offer aid, scout the other side of the lake and ensure we have not drawn unwanted attention.”
Strale glanced at Scet. “My honor is impeccable,” he noted, “and someone should help her, it looks as if she might drown before she gets half-way through cleaning her—”
“I'll be fine,” she assured them both, her cheeks burning once more. “I won’t go deep, but I need to wash.”
When neither of them moved, she waved her hand toward the bushes dismissing them. “Alone. I need to wash alone.”
Strale inclined his head. “If you are certain, then I will ensure your protection by scouting ahead, as suggested.”
He didn't wait for her acknowledgment, but took a wider trail from the pool. Adda watched him go. What a conundrum a Dragon Lord was. One moment it seemed as if he was seducing her, which, admittedly was expected, but the next he was as disinterested in her as he was in Scet.
Maybe her appearance was to blame. It had been a rough week. A sad thing for her ego, though. Not that she wanted sexual attention at this juncture.
She eyed Scet. He still stood where he had first entered the little shore around the pool. He wasn't looking directly at her, nor was his focus on her. A stab of disappointment proved just how stupid she was. No, she definitely didn't want sexual attention, if things became more complicated she would have no chance of working her way out of them.
You need to work on your lying skills.
Mind your own business.
Don't worry, they will progress quickly with so much practice.
“I will be nearby, be as silent as you can,” he glanced at the water, “and don't go deep.”
With that warning, he strode into the forest, leaving Adda standing and looking after him.
She took Scet's words seriously and approached the pool with all the caution she could muster. Her throat ached, it had been long since she had drank her fill. She made herself look around and study the water's edge before approaching and cupping her hands, letting the clear fluid flow between her fingers and then raising the liquid to her lips.
When the first drops of water hit her throat, she nearly whimpered with the pleasure of it. The cool fluid flowed into her mouth easily. Until that moment, she had been half scared that drinking would go about as well as eating had, but her body accepted the water and, for the moment, she was thankful. She drank greedily and, when she finished, she scrubbed at her face and arms.
Pure bliss, to feel the last week's grime and sweat and worry lifting from her skin. After a moment of restraint, she waded into the pool. The bank dropped off nearly immediately and she submersed herself as soon as it did, holding her breath and scrubbing at her hair and body. It would have been the best moment of the last few weeks if it had not been for her wound. The gouges she had dug during her dream stung as she cleaned around them, not allowing her mind to free itself from her troubles, even temporarily. They should have healed by then, yet another reminder that all was not well.
When she had scrubbed as much as she dared, she broke the surface, keeping her movements smooth and slow, unlike Strale's splashing. He was right that the noise from the falls covered much, but there was no point taking risks, her luck with such things had not been good lately. She rose from the pool and stepped outward, wiping droplets from her skin with quick flicks of her hands, and wringing as much moisture as she could from her hair.
She found Scet several steps into the undergrowth. He faced away from her, though near enough he could have heard her if there had been trouble. The muscles in his back looked tense again and he studied the jungle with singular devotion. She wondered for a moment if she had made him uncomfortable. She shook her head. It couldn't be helped, a woman could only wander around smelling like the dead for so long. In fact, the quick wash left her invigorated and lifted her spirits enormously. For the first time since her capture, she felt almost like herself again.
That feeling fled immediately when, without warning, Scet disappeared into the brambles. He didn't say anything as he left, no 'wait here' or 'follow me,' so she had no indication of what his intentions were. Strale had not returned from his scouting, either, and she tried to tap down the alarm that was creeping up her spine. She had bathed quickly, but there had been plenty of time to return from the far side of the pool.
Unless...unless he found something.