We skirt them all, moving slowly. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Crouching, springing forward. Crouching again. Soon, I can smell the smoke from the campfire, and my mouth waters at the scent of whatever they are roasting.
Kearan taps my back and points, having spotted yet another guard up in the trees. I nod, and we continue on, tracing a circle around the entire campsite, until I know the location of every person on watch, including the one who fell asleep leaning against another tree. He’s the one we tread past to get closer.
A large boulder rests just outside the firelight, and Kearan and I press our backs against it. I look around the side, peering through some bushes to take a look at what’s before us.
There are ten of them. Big, built men wrapped in furs and armed to the teeth. They carry spears and quivers of arrows. Bows resting beside where each of them sits. Swords at their waists. The hilts of knives peeking over their boots. A few sport pistols.
They don’t look different from us. Their skin and hair come in the same colors. Their facial features are arranged in the same shapes. They are human just like us.
Though their language is far different.
I listen carefully as they speak to one another around that campfire. The words are nonsense to me, the vowels softer than we say them, but their laughter is the same. Our known world is so small, consisting of one inhabited country made up of seventeen islands. There are other islands spread throughout Maneria, of course. The late pirate king used some to house his keep. Alosa uses another for her stronghold. The sirens have some that they frequent. But outside of that? There was nothing. No other people.
Until now.
They’re here on the most unlikely place for habitation, and twenty men are stationed at this specific location with … very little.
There aren’t any tents or other shelters here. Nothing to suggest this is a campsite at all. In fact, aside from the food they’re eating and the fire they manage, there’s nothing. If this is the search party meant to find us, they are poorly equipped.
My eyes do another sweep of the area, searching for what I missed.
Kearan finds it before I do, pointing to what I originally thought was only a shadow, but is actually an opening between two boulders on the other side of the fire.
They’re guarding something. An opening into the earth.
A prison, perhaps?
This is no campsite but a guard watch.
It’s impossible to sneak past them all right now. Not without some sort of diversion to draw them away or at the very least get them to look in another direction. It’s not something we can manage with just the two of us.
I’ve no choice but to turn away and come back again later.
WHEN THE LIGHT IN the tent first starts to brighten, I rise and exit. It was a fitful night’s sleep. Though I’ve slept on the hard ground many a night, I am not used to having other people touching me. I would doze, only to wake at the first movement of another body in the tent.
I stretch in the frigid morning air and rub at the spots where my weapons dug into my skin. Like hell was I removing my knives while I slept.
Jadine soon joins me outside with her helpers, and they set to getting breakfast ready. While waiting for the rest of the crew to wake, I do sweeps around the area, checking in with each of the girls on watch, who all report seeing nothing in the night. As I do so, I rehearse in my head what I’ll say to the crew this morning.
Kearan’s words are never far from my mind.
Get over it.
And his accompanying grin as I threw knife after knife at him.
I shake those thoughts from my head as I return to camp. The cabin girls pass around the food, and Roslyn jumps down from the nearest tree to receive a bowl. Even on land that girl likes to be up high.
“See anything interesting?” I ask her.
“Snow,” she says, deadpan.
I wait for everyone to have their morning oats before I dare to speak. It is my experience that folks are more amiable when they’re not hungry.
“Yesterday was a rough one. I … apologize for not speaking about it last night. You all worked admirably. Short of seeing the future, there’s nothing we could have done to save the ship. The moment we anchored, we were sitting ducks.
“But we’re all here now. Alive with food and shelter. We’re going to be okay. Our yano bird will return to the queen. She will send more ships this way, and they’ll have a far easier time of it now that we’ve taken care of that beastie.”
A few shouts of raw! go up at the pronouncement.
“We need only survive until they get here,” I continue, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t still do the job we were sent to do.” I explain about the underground entrance and the men guarding it. “I want to get a better look at it today during the daylight.”
Dimella and I spend some time together talking strategy, but in the end, we decide it’s best if Kearan and I scope it out again. As always, I’d rather go it alone, but it’s not just me I’m putting in danger anymore by doing so. I have a whole crew depending on me.
Before the two of us head out, Philoria and Visylla approach me. I ache to see their saddened faces. Bayla’s death hit them harder than everyone else, for they knew her best.
“Captain, we’d like permission to go down to the water tonight and light a lantern for Bayla’s soul.”
“Of course. We should not delay. I will accompany you.”
They both nod before striding away, and Kearan and I take off.
The landscape isn’t terribly different during the day, though I swear it’s just as cold and difficult to see. The sun reflects off all that white snow, blinding anyone who dares to look at it. The plants we saw last night now have color to them, and these purple blossoms poke through the ground at uneven intervals. Kearan and I wear white to blend in with our surroundings. (I had to borrow clothes from some of the other girls, since I don’t own anything in a light shade.)
There isn’t much more to see at the campfire in the daytime.
New men have taken watch. The same number as before: ten around the fire, ten more keeping watch from the trees or surrounding foliage. They stare out at their surroundings with vigilance.
There’s definitely something down there they don’t want anyone to find.
Or perhaps people they don’t want broken free?
At first, I thought it wishful thinking to hope for Alosa’s crew to still be alive if they were captured, but if the natives have underground prisons for newcomers, then maybe we have a chance.