Fallon didn’t miss the way his men eyed their surroundings with a deep unease. It was a feeling he shared. Men weren’t meant to exist underground. It felt like he was walking in a tomb, one Highlanders had created for their forgotten dead. The Trateri didn’t believe in burials, thinking that interment underground trapped the spirit in the decaying body. They usually left the dead to the elements, or burned the corpse, so the person’s soul could return to the world, closing the circle of life.
“There.” Witt pointed the torch down into a deep trough that had been dug into the dirt. In the trough were skeletons, many of them. There were half-gnawed bones and discarded weapons, the metal rusted and brittle with age. Whatever garments these poor bastards had worn to their deaths were preserved by the cool air in the caverns, denied the chance to decay and fall apart.
“Horse lords protect us,” Caden said.
Witt knelt next to one of the bodies, using a stick to raise the arm. “The flesh was stripped from their bones, otherwise I suspect the climate in here would have preserved the bodies. I can’t tell if whatever beastie ate them was also the one to kill them.”
“Either way, I’d say we’re not the only things in here,” Caden said, giving Fallon a look.
No, Fallon would agree. Which meant the pathfinder had a lot of explaining to do.
All eyes followed Fallon’s to Reece where he stared down at the remains with a fixed expression.
“Would you like to explain?” Witt asked, his voice calm.
“He’s had his chance to explain,” Fallon said from where he crouched near the trough. He jerked his head. Reece was seized from behind, the faces of the Anateri implacable masks.
Caden unsheathed a knife at his waist, turning to Reece with a hard expression.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Witt asked.
Fallon cast a sharp glance at the other man. Witt held his hands up in supplication.
“I’m not questioning you. It’s just he’s the only person besides Shea who has any hope of guiding us out of here. He may very well be the only person who can find her.”
“Those are good points, both of them,” Fallon conceded. “But if we can’t trust him, there’s no point keeping him around. He’s had many chances to earn our trust and failed at all of them.”
“This place is a maze,” Reece said. “You’ll never get out of here without me.”
Fallon smiled, the movement lacking any warmth or amusement. “I’m not convinced you can get us out of here either way. Shea is the one that found the entrance if you’ll recall.”
“I brought you here.” Reece struggled against the men restraining him.
“I would not brag of that, if I were you,” Caden observed, his face coldly amused. “Since we’ve listened to you, we’ve been attacked by eagles and a whole lot of other beasts. The Telroi is now missing, and we are stuck in a place that reeks of death.”
“What do you care for some woman who’s fucking your master?” Reece’s expression was watchful, as if he was testing them. It was the only reason Fallon refrained from striking him down where he stood.
The men holding him tightened their grip to a painful point. Reece didn’t make a sound, a determined expression taking over—one Fallon had seen on Shea’s face on more than one occasion when she’d felt like she’d been backed into a corner or when she was testing the waters for one of her bigger stunts. It made him question Reece’s motivations. Enough that he decided to watch and observe before deciding one way or another.
“I’d be careful if I were you,” one of the men holding Reece warned.
“That’s our Telroi you’re insulting,” the other said.
Both men had been with Fallon for many years. Their loyalty was unwavering, and it seemed it extended not just to Fallon but to Shea as well. A curious and welcome development. The first sign of acceptance.
“My men take insults against the Telroi rather personally,” Caden warned. “She’s saved our Warlord’s life on more than one occasion. That, if nothing else, commands your respect.”
Reece’s mask fell for a moment, and Fallon thought he saw the faintest shadow of relief on the other man’s face before his emotions were hidden again. It was enough that he was willing to take a chance on the pathfinder. A small one.
“You say you don’t know where she is. What’s your best guess?” Shea often said she didn’t know, but she usually had a guess that turned out to be right more often than not. Fallon had to wonder if it was a family trait or part of the training these pathfinders underwent.
Reece turned guarded. “It’s possible that there is another entrance to these caverns that she would need to take once she found the symbol. It looked like she was pretty high in the cliffs when the eagles descended.”
“And can you find this other entrance?” Fallon queried with a lift of his eyebrow.
“No.” Reece hesitated a moment. “But she should be able to find her way here. She has an uncanny way of getting out of scrapes.”
“I’m well acquainted with that trait.”
Reece’s chuckle was brief. “You should have grown up with her. She turned both our parents’ hair gray before she took the pathfinder mantle.”
He almost sounded like a cousin should. It made Fallon tempted to respect him, but he was loath to drop his guard with this man who represented everything he could lose Shea to.
“Looks like we have no choice then, we’ll wait for her to find us,” Fallon decided.
Caden’s sigh was weary. “The clan leaders are going to have a shit fit over this.”
Fallon allowed real amusement to touch his eyes. “They are welcome to bring me their grievances.”
“Yeah and be eviscerated for them.” Caden’s words were dry, even as his mouth quirked in a half-smile.
*
Shea heard a distant rumble of sound. She stopped and listened. Voices. She thought she heard voices. She rounded the corner and nearly fell over an edge, the drop of which was shrouded in complete black. Shea grabbed the wall as her steps sent rocks skittering over the edge.
She counted. One. Two. Three. Four. She’d hit twelve before she heard the clatter of it landing. That fall would have probably killed her.
She looked around, searching for what she’d heard. It was possible it was nothing but the wind playing tricks. With the way this place echoed, it wouldn’t surprise her.
Bright, flickering light in the distance to her right drew her attention. She squinted. Those were torches.
She started to shout out, but hesitated at the last second. It was possible those lights didn’t belong to Fallon. Alerting them to her presence could be a death sentence, if it was an enemy. She bit her lip and looked back the way she’d come.
Trenton was waiting. After all her talk of not leaving him behind, she’d eventually had to make the tough decision, knowing she could summon help faster than if she tried to carry him. She suspected that if she took much longer to find a healer, she would be returning to a corpse.
She squared her shoulders. Time to take a chance.
“Fallon! Anybody there?” she shouted.
She waited a moment. No reaction from the torches. She didn’t let herself give up hope. It was possible that her voice hadn’t reached them or that the echoes had made the words indistinguishable.
She tried again. “Fallon, help! Fallon!”
*
“Do you hear that?” Witt asked. He stood and walked a few paces from the fire Fallon’s men had started to ward off the chill of the caverns.
“What are you talking about?” Eamon asked.