by T. A. White
“Say something,” Clark burst out.
Shea stared at the board for a long moment. His shoulders drooped.
Shea, for her part, didn’t know how to respond. This was- It was unbelievable. Amazing and overwhelming. She never would have thought to do something like this, and yet it was exactly what she had always wanted. Better even, because anybody who had something to share about their experience could. They didn’t need a special rank or training. Instead, they relied on actual encounters as their proof of necessity. This had the potential to save lives.
Her voice slightly hoarse, she said, “I don’t see the creature I encountered last time. Should I start a new entry, or is there some way to check older ones?”
He looked up, his face hopeful as she smiled slightly at him. If she hadn’t been pretending to be a boy, she probably would be tearing up at this. Or perhaps not given how hard she worked to make people see her as a pathfinder rather than a woman.
“I’ll ask the board’s keeper and also get you a piece of paper,” he said eagerly.
Shea waited as he rushed over to a thin man with shoulder length, light brown hair tied back. He was Shea’s age, maybe a little older, and his face was all angles and planes. The man shot a glance at Shea and then picked up a thick leather bound book before placing a crisp white piece of paper on top of it.
He ambled over to Shea with a slight limp and observed her, a keen intelligence behind his eyes.
“Shane, this is Charles. He’s the one who manages all the entries. Otherwise, it would just be chaos.”
“So you’re the one who came up with this.” His voice was raspy and low as if he’d damaged it at some point in his life.
“This?” Shea looked at the paper board and shook her head. “No. I never would have thought to do this. That’s all Clark.”
Clark flushed at the praise. “But I never would have thought of this, if it hadn’t been for that original journal. This all started with you.”
Her eyes drifted back over the board. It may have started with her, but it hadn’t ended there.
“Let’s see if we can find your creature,” Charles said. “What did it look like?”
Shea described the frostling while he flipped through entries, shaking his head the entire time.
“Are you sure it was a shadow?” he asked. “Because that just doesn’t sound right.”
“I’m sure.”
“Maybe your mind just made this shadow creature up to explain what happened.”
“I know what I saw,” Shea said firmly. She wasn’t surprised he was having a hard time believing her. Even she couldn’t believe it. Needless to say, she left out the part where it had spoken to her. Well, she thought it had spoken to her. She still wasn’t sure about that. Sentience hadn’t been in any of the stories.
“If Shane says he saw it, then he saw it,” Clark said, folding his arms and glaring down at Charles.
Charles sighed and gave him a slightly put upon look. Shea snorted, covering her mouth quickly to keep the rest of the laughter in. She had seen that look before when she was younger, but usually it had been aimed at her.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Charles told her stiffly when she finally stopped laughing. “It’s just that I want to be sure before we put it up there. We don’t want unfounded superstition being put into the scouts’ heads. They have enough of that.”
“I understand and agree, and if I had time, I’d find some of the men who were there to corroborate my story.”
He held up a hand. “No need. If you say it happened, I believe you. I’m sure you know the difference between myth and fact.”
She took the piece of paper and a quill already dipped in ink. She set the paper on one of the small tables and bent to sketch what she’d seen. Several minutes later, she lifted her hand and rubbed her aching wrist. She cocked her head and read over what she had written. There wasn’t a lot there, and she wished there had been more to put in the description but the encounter had been brief. There would have been too much supposition in if she had added any more. Perhaps someone else would be able to fill in the details.
When she was finished, Charles tacked it onto the board.
“What’s this?” a voice asked at their backs.
Shea went ramrod straight, cursing her luck. Charles and Clark spun and snapped to immediate attention, turning from the friendly men she knew into hard faced soldiers. Shea was slower to turn.
Darius squinted past them at the board. Wanting a better look, he came closer, pausing by Shea as he straightened one flyer to read it.
“It’s a record of beast encounters,” an old man said, stepping into the shade. His back was slightly hunched with age, and his white hair was braided into a tail at the back of his neck. Despite the seeming frailty of his body, the strength of his personality along with a shrewd intelligence blazed from his eyes. “From what my men have told me, when scouts return after an encounter with a beast they record its strengths and weaknesses so others may know them.”
Darius had turned to listen, but now he turned back to the board with a renewed purpose. “That’s brilliant.”
“It works too,” the old man said. “Haven’t you wondered why there was drop in Horse Clan casualties over the past few weeks?”
“This is why?”
The old man nodded. “It hasn’t spread to the other clans yet, but it seems to be working.”
Darius turned to the three of them. Unlike the last time she had seen him, there was only a small spark of the continual good humor he seemed to carry. Today, he seemed tired and worn. Worry had carved deep grooves around his eyes and mouth, though he tried to insert a bit of his old self into his voice when he asked. “Whose idea was this?”
“It was his, sir.”
Shea wanted to punch Clark when he nodded at her. Suddenly, she found herself the focus of the two men. One of whom had met her before, as a woman, and the other of which seemed much sharper than she would have liked.
“Only the beginning, sir,” Shea said quickly deepening her voice as much as she dared without drawing attention to herself. She needed to get out from under their notice. “The rest of it was his.”
Clark puffed up and stood straighter, if that was possible, as Darius’s focus swung to him.
Shea stepped back, putting a little more space between her and them. The old man’s eyes flicked to her, and she froze as he studied her with a thoughtful expression. She dropped her eyes quickly from his, staring at the ground before peeking back up. She sighed in relief to find he was no longer watching her, giving his shrewd attention to the board behind her instead.
Clark was explaining the concept behind the board.
Both Clark and Charles seemed intent on impressing Darius, taking turns in the explanation while Darius looked on thoughtfully.
Now would be the time to tell someone what she’d heard. Darius was pretty high up in the army, and she didn’t have to worry about involving him in something dangerous. He probably even knew the missing person.
Telling him would expose her to scrutiny though, which was dangerous given her secrets. Right now people thought she was a boy, but that was mostly because they were used to thinking of her that way. Revealing a plot of this magnitude would automatically guarantee Darius would take a closer look at her.
It might be selfish, but Shea didn’t want to take the chance. She’d keep her council for now and see if there was a better time to advance what she’d learn. She just had to hope her silence didn’t cost somebody their life.
“And this all sprang from your journal?” Darius asked her.
All eyes swung to her.
“Ah, yes.”
“That’s impressive.”
Her tongue felt thick as she said, “Thank you.”
“Very impressive,” Darius said, idly looking over the board one last time. He turned to leave. “I won’t keep you from your assignments. I pray you meet with success on your journey.”
Clark and Ch
arles made the proper parting remarks, and Shea hurried to join in as Darius and his companion departed. They moved slowly, meandering down the road deep in conversation. Darius shortened his stride, keeping to his friend’s pace as he bent his head toward the man, listening intently.
“Can you believe Darius Lightheart, the Warlord’s right hand man, complemented our project? Even the head of Horse Clan knows about us.” Clark slapped Shea on the shoulder, almost bouncing on his toes from excitement. Even Charles looked slightly amazed, his eyes wide and disbelieving as if this had been some wild hallucination.
“Who knows what might happen after this? We’ve impressed a General. He said it was amazing! I need to tell my team.” Clark started off before turning around to walk backwards and giving them a “who could have believed it” expression.
For a moment, Shea forgot her concerns and smiled at Clark’s antics. He looked his age as he buzzed from the excitement of meeting one of his heroes. She was glad for him.
Charles had turned to study the board. “I think we need another board and maybe a couple more journals. I can make this bigger and better. Maybe we can give those journals to a person from every scout team. What do you think?”
He didn’t wait for her response, moving as fast as his limp would let him, presumably to track down pens and journals, leaving Shea standing there by herself.
She looked over her shoulder at the board, letting herself feel a small sense of accomplishment. Clark and Charles deserved the credit, but it made her feel good that she’d had some part in this no matter how small. Perhaps her time here had done some good after all. A little worried that this might make their jobs easier in conquering the Broken Lands, but for the most part she felt good.
She stepped out of the canopy’s shade. This excursion had taken time that she didn’t really have, and though it had been a welcome distraction, she needed to figure out what she was going to do about the conversation she’d overheard. Until then, she needed to get back to work on preparing to be sent back out.
Procuring supplies didn’t take long, and soon, she joined her party back at the corrals to prepare for their journey.
“You know what this is about?” Shea asked Buck as she made short work of saddling her horse. She cinched the last buckle tight and patted the beast on the neck. It stamped one foot and shifted but held still as she secured a sleep roll on the back of the saddle.
“No idea.” Buck hurried through his preparations so he could start on Eamon’s horse. “Whatever it is has the higher ups walking on hot coals though. My friends in the Stray Wind Troop said the heads are at each other’s throats.”
The Stray Wind Troop from what Shea had been able to gather was made up of, for lack of a better word, spies. Its members belonged primarily to Horse Clan but Snake and Lion Clan were always trying to get its men in there. Word around the campfire said the Stray’s were all over the army, listening for plots against Fallon and doing his bidding. If they were involved, it wasn’t good.
“Here comes, Eamon,” Phillip warned. His watchful gaze was even more intent than usual, and his features were tense. He didn’t look like he was willing to share whatever was bothering him.
“Good, you’re ready.” Eamon shooed Buck away and made short work of preparing his horse. “Sorry we’re leaving so soon, but we have a mission.”
“Eamon, can I speak to you?” Shea asked. She didn’t want to reveal her knowledge in front of the others.
“Not now. We need to get moving.”
“It’s kind of important, and I think it might pertain to the mission at hand.”
“What is it?” Eamon asked impatiently, his hands making quick work of readying his horse.
Shea’s response was cut off when another man shouted from the entrance of a tent. “Scout master, get a move on. You needed to be on the trail yesterday.”
“Alright, alright. We’re going. Keep your pants on,” Eamon yelled back. To Shea, he said, “This’ll have to wait. People are acting like the sky is about to fall. We need to get moving.”
Shea tried to protest, but Eamon had already swung onto his horse.
“All of the scouts are on this mission it seems,” Buck said.
“Doesn’t matter what they’re doing; we just need to follow our orders. Are you guys ready?”
Her chance missed, she nodded with the others.
“Good. Then let’s head out, I’ll tell you more when we’re underway.”
“Are there any others joining us?” Shea asked.
“We’ll be traveling alone, but if we find what we’re looking for, we can call for help with this.” He held up a long, slender black tube with red painted on the bottom of it.
Buck whistled, impressed. Even Phillip raised an eyebrow.
Shea looked from man to man. “What is it?”
“It’s a beast.”
“That?” It wasn’t very impressive, or alive for that matter.
“You probably wouldn’t know about it as they grow on the plains, but when you light a match at the bottom, the animal inside starts to glow. When it gets hot enough, it’ll erupt from its shell to shoot into the sky. We use them to send messages or to warn of attack back home.” Eamon handled it carefully as he set it back in his bag.
“They’re getting scarce the further into the Lowlands we push,” Buck told her as he mounted, “so only commanders and above are allowed to use them. Whatever we’re looking for must be pretty damn important.”
“It’s a who, not a what,” Eamon said. “Whoever he is, I hope someone finds him alive or blood will spill.”
On those grim words, Eamon set his heels into his mount’s sides and burst into a gallop. The rest of them followed quickly. Together, they rode out of camp, the sentries letting them go without the typical challenge.
As they rode, Shea heard hoof beats off to the side and looked over to find another group of four pounding through the brush, keeping pace with them before peeling off in their own direction.
Shea set her eyes forward watching the scenery pass as she leaned low over her horse’s neck and felt hair from its mane brush her lips as they moved as one through the hills.
She’d have to find a time to bring up her concerns on the trail.
Though she was disappointed to leave the comforts of camp so soon after arriving, a part of her thrilled at being back in the wilderness, feeling the freedom of the open skies and the deep serenity the sight of towering mountains and sharply dipping hills provided. For all the danger inherent in this land, it fed a portion of Shea’s soul that always felt slightly empty when she was behind high walls of canvas or stone.
Chapter Fifteen
Though night had fallen several hours ago, Shea’s group passed three other scouting parties. From the focus on both Eamon and Phillip’s faces, Shea figured they wouldn’t be stopping until they found whoever they were looking for.
A whisper of sound, like that of something brushing against rock, reached Shea. Her hand dropped to her hip where her short sword was buckled as she scanned her surroundings. It was dark but the moon was out, not quite as full as it had been when they encountered the frostlings, but there was enough light to see by.
Eamon stepped out of the gloom, raising a hand and nodding at her. She relaxed and murmured a soft ‘hello’ as he joined her where she perched at the edge of a cliff.
“Anything?” he asked her.
How much did she tell him?
“No.”
“Damn.” He settled into a crouch beside her. “I’m beginning to think they sent us on a wild goose chase.”
Pretty much. The map was wrong, which meant they were searching in the wrong place. She’d bet her life on it.
The group had found nothing and were nearly through the area they’d been given to cover. As no fire lights had shot into the sky, they assumed no one else had met with success either.
Should she tell him about what she’d overheard? Would he believe her? As time ticked by, it got harde
r and harder to tell him. He’d have questions about why she hadn’t said something sooner. He’d be right to be suspicious. She should have made him listen back in camp.
Shea went back to staring at the mountain silhouettes, whose hulking forms blocked the stars and were only a few shades darker than the rest of the night. Little specks of firelight winked in and out in the valley below as men combed the land.
“Maybe not,” Shea said slowly as an idea occurred to her. She could point them in the right direction without revealing how she knew what she knew. “I need you to light a torch.”
Used to the way her mind worked, Eamon didn’t ask questions and busied himself with creating light to see by. Shea pulled out the map and flattened it on the rock between them, taking the torch from him and leaning the light as close as she dared to the parchment.
“Careful, Shane. I’m not sure how happy they’ll be if you set their map on fire.”
She was quiet as she studied the markings. Not all of it was wrong. That would raise too many suspicions from scouts who’d traveled the area. Just parts of it, and she was pretty sure she knew which parts.
“What’re you two doing?” Buck asked, appearing out of the dark with Phillip close behind him.
“Anything?” Eamon asked hopefully.
They both shook their head in a negative.
Eamon sighed. “Shane thinks he’s onto something.”
“Oh?” Buck leapt onto their rock and squatted next to Shea. “What do you have?”
“Something.”
She pulled out her little journal and flipped to several smaller maps at the back. They weren’t as detailed as what she held in her hand, but it was enough to give her a general idea of the land.
“Is that a map?” Buck asked. “You’re not supposed to be copying the maps, Shane. They could flog you for that.”
“I didn’t copy troop movements or anything sensitive, Buck. You know as well as I do half the time the maps they give us are crap. I wanted a way to keep track of where we’d been so we didn’t have to start from scratch every time we left camp.”
She went back to comparing the two maps.
