Wayfarer's Keep

by T. A. White

  Daere made her way to her bed, noting as the Anateri took up sentinel positions in the corner of the room. “See there,” she said in a soft voice, nodding at the men who watched the room with alert gazes. “The Hawkvale’s Anateri will protect us.”

  Mist lifted her head, her tear-stained face taking in the men watching them. The big one in the corner gave her a soft smile as he winked at her.

  “But who’s going to protect Shea and Fallon from the bad man and his monsters?” a soft voice asked. Mist’s sad eyes looked up at Daere with a degree of trust Daere hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Not since—Daere shut that thought off before it could fully form.

  Daere didn’t let herself respond to the shock of hearing the little girl speak for the first time since Shea had left for the Highlands. She suspected if she made too big a deal of it, Mist would shut down and it might be months before she spoke again.

  Instead, she concentrated on what Mist had said. “What bad man, little fox?”

  “The one who controls the bad things,” Mist said.

  Daere frowned, her thoughts troubled. Mist shouldn’t have known about the beast call, or that Shea and Fallon suspected someone was at the heart of the recent problems with beasts. Perhaps the child had overheard something she shouldn’t have.

  Daere wrapped Mist in a hug, rocking her back and forth. “You know what’s so great about those two?”

  Mist shook her head.

  Daere smiled down at her, the expression sweet. “They are very good at protecting each other.”

  Mist watched Daere, her face cautious. “I make you sad.”

  Daere’s forehead wrinkled as she gave Mist a confused look. “What do you mean?”

  “I remind you of him.” Mist tucked her head back down, nuzzling in. She left Daere staring down at her with a troubled expression.

  “Who, little one?” Daere asked.

  Mist didn’t respond, already fast asleep.

  Daere brushed Mist’s hair from her face in soothing movements, staring into nothing as she thought.

  “Has she fallen asleep?” the Anateri who’d winked at Mist asked. His name was Lock.

  Daere looked up and nodded at Lock. “She has.”

  “We’ll take up our positions outside in that case,” he said, his voice soft so as not to disturb the sleeping child. “I’m sure her nightmare has passed.”

  Daere wasn’t. Something about the nightmare struck her as odd, especially Mist’s remarks at the end.

  “Thank you,” she said. Before they left, she added, “Oh, if any of Fallon’s men come back with a report, I want to be notified immediately.”

  He inclined his head, murmuring, “Of course.”

  Sleep was a long time coming for Daere, her thoughts lingered on Mist and her nightmare, and the very odd notion that it hadn’t been a nightmare at all.

  *

  Shea leaned over the battlements as she watched the Keep beneath her. The wind tugged at her hair and clothes, its strong force buffeting her and whipping hair into her face. It had been several days since their late-night meeting with her parents. For the moment, they were stuck waiting for the next thing to happen.

  Her mother needed the time to persuade the council and assemble the boomers they’d promised Fallon.

  Meanwhile, Shea was going crazy at the forced inactivity and the nagging sense they weren’t doing enough to prepare. Something was coming. She could feel it in her bones, but they couldn’t go off on hunches and gut instinct. They needed information and intelligence. Until Eamon’s scouting party returned, they were staying put.

  Shea propped her chin on her hand, careful to keep her other wrist from bumping into the stone. Chirron had treated the wound the ballyhoo had given her, smearing it with a green paste that stunk before wrapping it in several layers of gauze. It felt better except for the rare occasions she forgot it was injured and knocked it into hard objects.

  She stared out over the battlements at the scenery around her. The bridge with the mist on the other side, the mountains in the distance, their purplish, bluish forms jutting sharply from the earth like razor sharp teeth meant to cut the sky.

  Movement on the other end of the battlements drew her attention.

  “Just great,” she muttered as three people came into view.

  “What is it?” Trenton asked from behind her.

  “Enemies.” She knew she didn’t have to say anything more than that. He’d understand.

  He gave them a onceover, his gaze cool and assessing. “Want me to kill them for you?”

  She sighed and straightened, not taking her eyes off the three as they approached. “It’s not that kind of battle.”

  It’d be so much easier if it were.

  She kept her expression neutral as they drew near.

  Victoria led the way, her curls pulled tightly back from her face today. Although she was just a few years older than Lainey, she looked old before her time, her skin weathered and beaten, cheeks sagging, and her eyes sunken with bags under them. Bitterness had soured any beauty she might once have had.

  The other two, Gerald and Eliza, had never been particularly hostile toward Shea, but they hadn’t been friendly either. Their presence would either make this upcoming encounter go smoothly or exacerbate it.

  “Whatever you do, don’t react,” she cautioned Trenton.

  He grunted.

  That was all they had time for as the three reached them.

  “Pathfinders,” Shea said in a cordial voice.

  “How are you still breathing?” Victoria snapped.

  The other two watched with blank, impassive gazes. Guess they weren’t going to help make this encounter pleasant after all.

  Shea took a deep breath, counseling herself against showing anger. That would just encourage Victoria, losing her temper would show weakness that the other woman would definitely try to take advantage of.

  “Victoria, it’s been a long time,” Shea said, her voice as stilted as her pent-up feelings.

  “Not long enough,” Victoria said, her thin mouth made even thinner as it tightened. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Obviously someone disagrees,” Shea returned, politely.

  Victoria snarled. “You’re the reason my son is dead. For that alone, your existence should have been ended.”

  Trenton shifted at her side, his face darkening in a frown. He stepped forward. Shea’s hand snapped out to hold him back as she gave him a warning look.

  Victoria’s eyes shifted to Trenton and then back to Shea as her mouth curled. “The only thing that saved your miserable hide is your mother’s position.” The smile she gave Shea was sadistic. “Not even she can save you this time.”

  Shea arched one eyebrow, not letting the poison spewing from Victoria’s mouth fluster her. This woman had been a hero of hers at one time, now she was a bitter woman clinging to the past. “I have never needed my mother to save me.”

  “Unlike some,” a strong voice said from behind Shea.

  She turned to see Reece join them, his arctic blue eyes fixed on Victoria with a degree of dislike and loathing that was surprising in her normally laid-back, carefree cousin.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Victoria snapped.

  “Just that Griffin was the man he was because of your shortcomings,” Reece returned.

  “Reece,” Shea cautioned.

  He flicked her a glance but didn’t stop. “Your son was a grown man, capable of making his own decisions. No one forced him on that mission, he chose it all on his own.”

  “You don’t know anything,” Victoria said with a sneer. “That bitch stole everything from him. He had to go because of what she’d done.”

  “Shea didn’t steal anything,” Reece argued, his face flushed with anger. “No one can influence the final test. He was a lazy fool who tried to coast along using someone else’s work. It bit him in the ass in the end. He got what he deser
ved.”

  “Reece,” Shea said, a snap in her voice.

  Victoria’s face crumpled, emotion turning it ugly. “You don’t know anything.”

  She shoved past without another word, the two pathfinders followed her after sharing a long look.

  Shea waited until they were gone before rounding on her cousin. “Why’d you do that?”

  He gave her a negligent shrug. “Someone had to put her in her place. She’s been advocating for your death for years.”

  “Still, there was no need for that,” Shea argued.

  “I beg to differ. Why are you so nice about it? The Shea I knew would have already eviscerated her with words by now.”

  “She lost her only son,” Shea said in a soft voice. Was Victoria out of line? Yes. Had she let misplaced hate ruin her life? Again, yes. But, she’d also suffered a loss that neither Shea nor Reece could ever understand. It meant Shea cut her more slack than she would have otherwise.

  “That’s not your fault. Stop taking responsibility for it.” Reece’s voice was irritated as he turned to join her at the stone wall of the battlements. “Your only sin was in surviving. The reasonable among us recognize that.”

  Together, they looked out over the edge.

  Reece leaned forward, his body relaxed and loose. “I’m surprised your shadow didn’t prevent that little scene.”

  His tone wasn’t kind, letting Shea know exactly what he felt about Trenton’s presence.

  “The telroi is more than capable of standing her own ground,” Trenton said, giving her cousin a look filled with dislike.

  Reece grunted, ignoring her guard.

  Shea decided to interfere before the two could descend into a full-blown argument. “What are you doing up here?”

  “Looking for you.” He said it like that should have been obvious, and Shea had to fight to keep from whacking her cousin on the back of his head.

  He was just so irritating sometimes.

  “Why?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  “I have to take some of the newbies out and wanted to see if you would like to go with me.” He straightened and turned his gaze on her. “You can even bring your shadow if you want.”

  Shea gave him a considering look, examining the offer for hidden motivations. She could see none. “I’d like that.”

  He nodded. “Meet me at the stables in an hour.”

  “I’ll be there,” she said.

  He gave Trenton one last derisive glare before turning and heading back the way he’d come.

  Trenton stepped up to the spot Reece had vacated. “Is that wise? I’m not sure Fallon would like the idea of you going out there.”

  Probably not, but then he did try to swaddle her in protective layers.

  “You’ll be there,” Shea said. “And if it makes you feel better you can bring one of the other Anateri as well. Either way, it’s not dangerous. We’re just getting them used to reading the trail.”

  Her cousin had something up his sleeve. This was a good way to find out what he was up to and whose side he was on.

  She patted Trenton on the shoulder as she made her way back to the stairs that would lead into the Keep. “You’d better track down another we can take with us. I’m heading back to the room to grab my gear.”

  She didn’t wait for him to argue.

  *

  Shea walked up to a group of people massed in front of the gatehouse, a pack over her shoulder, as Trenton trailed behind her. She stopped short when she noticed Braden and Fallon standing near.

  “Trenton,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “You didn’t really think I’d keep this from him, did you?” was the response.

  She’d had hope.

  She let out an angry sigh and stalked over to the two men. Fallon watched her approach with amusement. She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what was going through his head. It was enough to give her pause and prevent her from saying the first words in her mind—words guaranteed to start an argument.

  “Hello, my Warlord. I missed you this morning,” she said, giving him a charming smile.

  His lips tilted up into something close to a full smile. “It seems you’ve found something to occupy yourself with anyway.”

  She gave him a deadpan look. She knew he didn’t come here just to exchange pleasantries.

  He tilted his head at Braden. “My general has expressed interest in your pathfinder training. He was hoping to accompany you and the rest.”

  The tension in Shea faded, and she gave Braden a startled look. That was actually a good idea. She should have thought of it herself. The Trateri were skilled on the trail, but the Highlands were new territory for them. Learning its secrets could only help them in the long term.

  She gave him a respectful nod. “I would be happy for your company.”

  He tilted his chin down. “Thank you, Telroi.”

  She looked back at Fallon. “And you? Would you care to join us?”

  He shook his head, regret on his face. “I’m afraid I have a commitment here.”

  Seeing the question on her face, he dismissed the other two with a jerk of his head. When they were alone, he stepped closer. “Your father has offered to take me hunting. He seems to think we need to bond.”

  Shea jerked back, her face cautious. Of all the things she’d expected him to say, that had not been one of them. Knowing her father, that request could mean several things. She belatedly noticed the almost pained expression on Fallon’s face.

  “It’s not what you think,” Shea said, finally.

  He cocked his head in question.

  “It’s better that you find out on your own.” Her smile widened. “Just make sure you look up.”

  He didn’t look any more reassured. He snagged Shea’s waist and pulled her close. “One thing he did tell me that I enjoyed hearing, was your family has a tradition whenever one of your parents leaves the Keep.”

  Shea watched him, a half-smile on her face. “Is that right?”

  He nodded, his face serious. “It is. It’s one I think we need to adopt for ourselves.”

  His mouth caught hers mid-laugh, desire arcing between them and bringing her to her toes. Just like that the kiss ended with Fallon’s piercing eyes staring at her from inches away. “Come home safe.”

  She nodded, stepping back and giving his arm one last squeeze. “Always.”

  She turned and walked toward Trenton and Braden, knowing if she looked at Fallon, she’d go back for another kiss. It was a weakness she didn’t want to advertise with a bunch of strangers looking on.

  The group led by Reece was made up almost entirely of people she didn’t recognize. All those assembled were young, with eager faces and a bright earnestness that said the world really hadn’t tested them yet.

  The pathfinders got a new crop of hopefuls each year. In lucky years, there might be two or three classes passed through the pathfinders’ training program. Once, there would have been a group every month or so, but those days were long gone. As the pathfinder’s popularity and usefulness to the outside villages had waned, so too had those wishing to join their ranks.

  Shea dropped her pack and folded her arms when it became obvious Reece hadn’t arrived yet. Idly, she watched those milling around.

  A few noticed her and looked over with curiosity. Those who did recognize her spoke in hushed voices to their friends. Soon Shea found herself the center of attention.

  She looked back with an impassive expression, not letting the gossip bother her.

  “Shea,” a familiar voice said, puzzlement present in his voice.

  Shea blinked, surprised when Clark pushed himself to the front of the group. “Clark, I didn’t expect you here.”

  He looked hesitant and unsure as he crossed over to her. A woman trailed him, visibly unhappy when Clark greeted Shea with a familiarity only possible with those who’ve known each other for a long time. He grasped her forear
m in a warrior’s greeting and clapped her on the back, the smile that had been missing for several weeks finally present, lighting up his face and making him seem like the boy on the cusp of manhood that he was.

  Shea noted the way the woman frowned at their closeness and kept her smirk concealed, not wanting to insult her or make her think there was something there when there wasn’t. She was glad Clark was making friends. He deserved some happiness in his life after the past few weeks.

  “They invited me to go with them,” he said, almost hesitantly.

  Shea couldn’t guess why, until his attention drifted to Trenton and Wilhelm at her back, the skin around his eyes tightening as if to forestall a flinch.

  “That’s great. I hoped they’d accept you,” Shea said, hoping to allay some of his concern that he was in trouble. “My cousin invited me to tag along. Hope you don’t mind.”

  He blinked, looking horrified. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  She grinned at him. “I’m just teasing, Clark.”

  He gave her a scathing look, some of her old friend peeking through.

  “You learn anything interesting from your new friends?” Shea asked.

  Clark brightened.

  Before he could speak, the woman who’d trailed him spoke up, her voice carrying a faint accent. “Clark, we should make sure we know what team we’re on.”

  Clark smiled at the woman, his expression easy and bright. “I’ll be right there.”

  The dismissal didn’t sit well with his friend, but she turned to go after giving the four of them a short nod.

  “I see you’re making friends,” Trenton said with some amusement.

  Clark rolled his eyes. “That’s Delia. She’s been helpful. She’s not like the rest of them.”

  “What do you mean?” Shea asked, her gaze intent.

  “All but two of them are children whose parents are pathfinders,” Clark said. “She and another man come from villages to the north west.”

  “I thought I recognized that accent,” Shea said in a thoughtful voice.