by T. A. White
Shea’s lips tightened. If this was a preview of what was to come, she was starting to think they should turn right around. An alliance between the Trateri and the pathfinders would never work if they couldn’t even share a simple campsite.
There wasn’t a lot of room for the division, but somehow, they’d managed it in the small clearing where they’d set up for the night. It was a simple space, not much more than a few packs on the ground, with their horses grazing only feet away. Since they were moving fast and the area was dangerous, they hadn’t bothered with tents. There weren’t even campfires, since no one wanted to draw the notice of any deadly beasts in the area. It meant dinner was going to be cold, probably dried meat and bread, just like it had been every night for the past week.
The Highlands weren’t like the Lowlands. Even in the best of times, it wasn’t entirely safe to travel, and given the current upheaval, the risk had elevated. This was something many were quick to lay at Shea’s feet.
Beast encounters had been on the rise since her sojourn in the Lowlands. They’d attacked several villages in the Lowlands and the Highlands, leaving nothing alive in many instances.
Shea wasn’t actually responsible for the attacks that were happening or the way the beast population had risen almost three times its normal amount in the last year. Not entirely at least. Unfortunately, she could see how it might seem that way to the pathfinders, since all eyes had turned to the Badlands and what waited there as the culprit. Since Shea was the only person to come out of that place alive, it was believed she’d done something there that might have woken old enemies and sparked the current climate.
Hence, the reason her father had convinced Fallon an alliance between the two groups was possible—one that would conveniently end with Fallon and Shea in the stronghold of the pathfinders. Shea would still be half-convinced all this was a ruse, if not for the fact that they’d been attacked on a nearly daily basis. Whatever had stirred up the beasts in the Lowlands had done the same here as well, only it was worse in the Highlands since the beast population up here was considerably greater.
As she glanced around the camp, a familiar pair of whiskey colored eyes were trained on her, their owner giving her a small smile that made her heart flutter in that familiar way. Just like that, some of the tension she’d been carrying fell away and a piece of her that had been tight relaxed.
She still wasn’t used to that feeling he gave her with just a small look—one that left her feeling oddly like she’d been punched in her chest. It was like his smile told her she wasn’t alone. Whatever trouble they found, they’d face it together. For someone who had spent the majority of her life going it alone, it was nice to know that someone was in her corner no matter what might come.
Her warlord wasn’t traditionally handsome, but he had a charisma more potent than beauty ever could be. He looked like what he was, a warrior. Strong. Fierce. Dangerous. This was enhanced by the small scar along his jaw and the deadly grace with which he moved. Every line of his body, every feature, the intense focus he used to watch the world, all declared this was not a man to be trifled with. He wasn’t the sort you wanted as an enemy unless you had a very clear way of ending him.
“Your practice went long today.” His voice was a low rumble as she drew near. His gaze went to Trenton beyond her, and he tipped his chin down in acknowledgment. She knew without looking that Trenton would head off to get food, now that she was safe with Fallon.
“Braden thought my attacks could use work.” Her voice betrayed her grumpiness.
He chuckled as one hand touched the small of her back, giving it a brief massage of sympathy. “He says the same about mine.”
Shea craned her head back and gave him a skeptical look. Amusement tinged his eyes at her expression.
“It’s true. He’s even said something similar to Caden.”
“No,” Shea said. Both men were extremely efficient warriors. Shea had seen them practicing against each other before in a graceful dance that was as mesmerizing as it was deadly.
“Ask him.” Fallon tipped his head to where Caden listened to one of the Anateri, a frown on his face.
“Caden, what advice does Braden give you about your swordwork?” Shea called out to him. She gave Fallon a significant look as if to say ‘there, your bluff is called.’
Caden was short, his body stocky and built for power. He was a lethal warrior, one of the best among Fallon’s Anateri. Shea thought only Trenton might be capable of challenging him. With his hair partially pulled back to tame the curls they reverted to when loose, and the skin beneath the half ponytail shaved, he looked as fierce and intimidating as his reputation suggested.
Blue eyes flicked to Shea as he rumbled, “He always harps on the slowness of my attacks.”
Shea’s head whipped around so she could glare at Braden as he joined them. If he thought Caden was slow, there was no way she would ever be able to gain his approval.
He lifted one eyebrow at her. “Just because it is a common piece of advice, doesn’t make it any less true.”
“It is also true that Braden is a stickler for the basics,” Fallon said, giving the other man a wry smile. “But that is why he’s known for turning out highly disciplined warriors with strong foundations.”
Braden inclined his head at the praise before looking at the chasm between the two groups. “This division has made some uneasy.”
“I, for one, will be glad when we get to our destination,” Caden murmured as he drifted over, fixing the pathfinders with a hard stare.
From the other two men’s grunts, it sounded like they agreed. The Trateri were finding the Highlands even less hospitable than they had previously thought. Their horses were not as useful here as they were on flatter ground. The journey was taking longer because they had to find paths the horses could traverse since they wouldn’t leave them behind. That, coupled with several beast attacks and their traveling companions’ hostility had meant more than one temper had flared in the intervening days.
“We should be getting close now,” Shea said. “I recognize the area. It’s no more than three days ride.”
“Somehow, that’s not the relief it should be,” Braden said. “Not when our end destination means we’ll be walking into a pit of vipers.”
On that Shea agreed.
“Did your father find you?” Fallon asked in a quiet voice.
Shea looked away as she nodded. Her eyes flicked to the other two men. She would prefer to be alone if they were to discuss her father. Actually, she would prefer to leave the topic untouched, if she was being really honest.
Fallon jerked his chin in dismissal and the other two men excused themselves. “What did Patrick want?”
Shea jerked up one shoulder as she folded her arms in front of her. “Who knows? He didn’t really say much. Just took some of his men to task for something they said.”
Fallon’s face was thoughtful as he cast a glance at their reluctant companions. “And what did they say?”
Shea stilled, his mild tone not fooling her for a moment. There was a dark threat there, one that only someone who knew him well might detect.
“Nothing of importance.” Knowing that wouldn’t stop him from trying to find out if he really wanted, she fixed him with a hard stare. “And if you’re smart, you’ll leave it at that. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Interfering wouldn’t help matters. You’d just make them worse.”
“Aren’t you the one who is always saying that we’re partners? Partners share things,” he said in that same silky voice. It was made all the more menacing because of the utter reasonableness of it.
“Does that mean you’ll share whatever it was you were discussing with your men when I walked up?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.
“You only have to ask,” he murmured.
She let out a sigh. She hated when her words were turned back on her. Worse, he was right. Partners, good partners, shared their
troubles even when the other could do nothing to help.
“They called me a traitor,” she said, her voice barely audible. Even saying the words brought back that ugly feeling deep in her stomach.
Fallon was quiet for a long moment. “I can see how they might think that.”
Shea looked away. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know.
“I would like you to consider this,” he said with a thoughtful look. “Your actions have not led to any harm being visited on them by me. In fact, I think it’s just the opposite. I would have invaded long before now had you not been part of my life. Even with their weapons and knowledge of the terrain giving them a distinct advantage, I would have dealt them a severe blow. One, I sense they would not easily have recovered from. At least not for several generations. It’s only because of my love for you, and your own actions, that they have avoided that fate.”
Shea wasn’t sure of that. She had a feeling it might have just been a matter of time before Fallon turned his sights on her homeland. He was too much the conqueror to leave a job half finished. He had a vision, and while seeing the Broken Lands united might be a worthy cause, it would take a lot of bloodshed to accomplish. Something that she had a strong objection to.
“To them you may be a traitor, but to our people you’re considered a hero.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Or did you forget jumping on that golden eagle to save Mist?”
Shea snorted. She doubted she’d ever forget that little debacle. Trenton certainly wouldn’t. He still got a vexed look on his face whenever someone brought it up. It had admittedly not been one of her better plans, but it had ended well, as she’d been able to save a child from being carried off and fed to the eagle’s young.
“So, your father came to your defense,” Fallon said, his voice thoughtful.
“Doubtful. He’s willing to drag me before the council to answer to similar charges.” Shea’s voice held a tinge of bitterness. A part of her would always crave her father’s approval, and knowing he was willing to bring her up on charges of treason burned.
“I’m not so sure of that,” Fallon said, his focus turning to where her father was moving among the pathfinders.
“What makes you say that?”
“I suspect that was little more than a ruse to get me to fall in line with what he wanted. He strikes me as being very cunning.”
“You’ve got that right. I’d say he’s as adept at mind games as any of your clan elders,” Shea said. Having lived through some of those games, she could attest to that.
He slid a look her way. “And yet such a talent seems to have skipped a generation.”
Shea shrugged. “I’ve never been very good at thinking sideways. There was no point in it in my prior life. If what you’re saying is true, how would he know such a threat would motivate you in the direction he wanted?”
“That is a good question,” Fallon said, studying her father with the kind of focus he usually reserved for particularly tricky opponents.
“Is that all you’ve got? A feeling?” Shea asked.
“My feelings are rarely wrong,” he said, giving her a censorious look. “Reading people accurately is how I’ve gotten to where I am today.” He tapped her nose. “Perhaps next time you should stop to talk with him rather than avoiding him. You might learn something interesting.”
She frowned at him, before looking over to where her father stood watching the two of them with astute eyes.
“Now, point out this person who said this thing to you,” Fallon said without missing a beat, his expression bland.
A laugh escaped her, surprising her. She glanced up at him “Nice try, Warlord, but I know you better than that.”
If she revealed that person’s name, it was almost guaranteed they’d end up dead or seriously injured before the night was through. Fallon didn’t allow anyone to threaten those he considered his, even by something as simple as a few stray insults.
He gave her a disgruntled look under lowered brows. “This will only allow me to keep an eye on a potential threat.”
She snorted as she walked off. “Right, and if I believed that, I would also believe that a revenant can be reasoned with.”
He grumbled as he followed her. “You know I can just ask Trenton.”
She gave him a smug smile over her shoulder. “Too bad he didn’t see who said it.”
He frowned at her; she frowned back until her lips tilted up in a crooked smile. She slapped him on the arm. “Now, feed me before my stomach tries to crawl through my back.”
He moved before she could dodge, wrapping his arms around her and pretending to gnaw on her neck. She shrieked with laughter as she wiggled free. It was rare for him to act playful while in view of others, especially when some of their companions could be considered potential enemies.
He gave her a slight smile, his face already back to the one she termed his warlord face, an unreadable expression that he normally regarded the world from. It had intimidated more than one Lowlander into surrendering before a single blow had been struck.
She touched his wrist in thanks before they walked through camp, visiting with their people and sharing in the cold meal. It wouldn’t be long before nightfall when they could find their beds.
CHAPTER TWO
Nightmares chased Shea through her dreams. Great beasts she’d never seen before stalked her through a barren and twisted landscape, while a voice called out to her, by turns filling her head with screams or mad laughter.
She jerked awake with a start, the gossamer thin cobwebs of a dream about a shadow beast trying to eat her soul clinging to her.
Fallon was alert, his eyes on hers. She’d woken him.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a nightmare.”
He lifted himself on one arm. “You seem to be having a lot of those lately.”
He was right. Ever since they’d reached the Highlands, her sleep had been broken by dark dreams that were getting progressively worse. They left her with a sneaking sense of impending doom that grew closer every morning. It was no wonder she was tired and slow during practices, when she rarely slept a full night anymore.
“It’s nothing to worry about. Go back to bed,” she said, already sliding out of her blankets.
He didn’t listen, remaining on one arm as he watched her through shadowed eyes.
She gave a small huff of laughter and leaned forward, brushing his cheek with her thumb as she laid a quick kiss on his lips. “One of us should be alert tomorrow in case these pathfinders try to pull anything.”
The skin under her fingers crinkled, his lips drawing up in a smile. “If you get too tired, you can always ride with me.”
She gasped in mock outrage. “What would your people say?”
He bit her lip. “You know I don’t care about what others might think or say.”
She pressed hard on his chest, forcing him to lie down. “I do know. Seriously, though, I’m fine. I’m just going to watch the stars for a bit. No reason for you to miss out on good sleep.”
He sighed. The muscles under her hand relaxed, letting her know she’d won the argument.
Her lips tilted up as her smile widened in victory. “Dream some good things for me.”
She stood and stepped lightly, careful with where she placed her feet. She didn’t want to wake the entire camp. It was bad enough she’d woken Fallon.
The moon was up, half full, but still bright enough to make finding her way relatively easy. She didn’t go far, just to the boulder Trenton had leaned against that afternoon. Going any further from the safety of camp would be foolish and expose her to unnecessary risk. With man-eating beasts filling the Highlands to the brim, heading off alone just wasn’t sensible. Shea was nothing if not sensible. Well, for the most part. There were times she flirted with foolhardy and occasionally she descended to outright recklessness, but mostly she tried to keep her head on straight and not take stupid risks. She could just imagine wh
at people would say if she wandered off and got lost or eaten by a beast.
She scrambled to the top of the boulder, feeling for handholds by touch rather than relying on sight. Reaching the top, she settled onto it, leaning back on her hands and looking up at the night sky, content with watching the millions of pinpricks of light high above her. Way out here, away from any light cast by a stray campfire, the view didn’t disappoint.
Down the middle of the sky, thousands of stars bunched, in places appearing almost purple and blue, a smattering of glittering dust. Among them were an infinite number of stars creating a streak of white light, one so dense that a fanciful mother had once told her a god had spilled milk up there and that was why there were so many.
The dead of night and its accompanying dark didn’t hold the same fear for her as it did for others. She saw the beauty all around her, from a blue-black sky with its blanket of glitter, to the way the world seemed brushed with shadows that enhanced its splendor.
There was a sense of movement below her. Shea tensed, reaching for the blade she’d had the foresight to stick in her boot. A shadowy head popped over the edge of the boulder.
“I thought I might find you up here,” her father said.
Shea released the knife. Her father was dangerous to her, but not in a way that a knife could protect her from. She thought about jumping off the rock and heading back to her fitful sleep, but such an action would betray her unease.
Fallon’s words from earlier came back to her. With a sigh, she relaxed and sat back as her father ascended the boulder to take a seat beside her. Settled, he dusted off his hands and joined her in watching the night sky. For several minutes neither one of them spoke.
“You know, your mother is the one who first got me to look up. Before that, I was too focused on the ground in front of me to bother with the wonders all around,” he said. “All that time spent fixated on my immediate problems, and I never stopped to enjoy the simple things.”
Shea grunted, not bothering to respond as she watched a cloud flit across the sky, veiling the light behind it.
