Wayfarer's Keep

by T. A. White

  Shea gave her mother a look, not bothering to comment on her choice of words.

  “My dear, I’m disappointed in the company you keep,” her mother said in a kind voice. “If you had to betray us, I at least, expected you to have better standards.”

  “I’m sorry, Mother.” Shea put emphasis on that last word. “I’ll make sure to be kidnapped by the right sort of people next time. Wouldn’t want to court your disappointment, now would we?”

  Fallon felt an inner spurt of amusement at his telori’s dry words. He let out a dark chuckle, finding the whole thing amusing.

  Her mother’s eyes came to him as she frowned slightly. His reaction wasn’t the one she was expecting. Good. If she was as smart as her daughter, she’d take a lesson from that. Fallon rarely played according to another’s rules. This time would be no different, despite the sticky familial bonds.

  “We seem to amuse you,” Lainey stated, no evidence of irritation in her voice.

  “This whole thing is laughable,” Fallon said, the amusement draining from his face as if it had never been. He bared his teeth at the woman in front of him. “I find it highly amusing that you’ve wasted my time in this way. Even my men are properly entertained.”

  He nodded to where his Anateri lined the wall. They watched the proceedings with an intent focus, like lions on the plains amid a group of antelope.

  None of them looked even remotely happy.

  Lainey’s eyes went from Fallon to the men behind him. Her shoulders rose and fell, but the same patronizing look remained pinned to her face.

  “I am an impatient man,” Fallon said. “And I was made certain promises for my attendance here. I’d like to see those promises fulfilled.”

  There was a harsh silence in the chamber as the pathfinders contemplated his words. Fallon felt a thread of irritation.

  “What is he talking about?” a man asked from the back.

  Ah, so the alliance Patrick had proposed had not been discussed among the council. He’d suspected as much.

  Thanks to the man’s words, he now had confirmation.

  His people had a saying. ‘Beware those who come bearing gifts. They will always try to kill you.’

  Lainey held up a hand, the gesture sharp and firm, her eyes fixed on Fallon. A thought moved behind her eyes as if she was mentally tallying a point under his name for a well-planned move.

  Yes, he could see the resemblance between her and her daughter. Shea was perhaps less refined in her approach to things. She relied on emotion and an inner sense of right and wrong. Many people, he’d noticed, tended to underestimate her because of it, but she understood humans and the way they thought very well.

  Same for this woman.

  A slight touch of indulgence graced his face.

  Sloppy of her not to make sure her people knew not to talk. These sorts of encounters worked best if you had a unified front.

  “Your telroi has drawn us all into a very dire situation. We have found ourselves in a bit of a quandary.” Lainey clasped her hands in front of her.

  “I am hard-pressed to hear how one average-sized woman who has not even been in the Highlands for the last year, could be responsible for any situation you find yourselves in,” Fallon said, scanning the pathfinders behind the guildmaster.

  With their hoods up, their faces were cast in shadow. It was impossible to guess at their thoughts when you couldn’t see their expressions. Probably by design.

  Fallon focused back on Lainey.

  “As I’m sure you’ve been told, the traitor at your side strayed into territory that was forbidden to us. She’s the cause of what is happening now,” a woman’s strong voice said from the back.

  The skin around Lainey’s eyes tightened, but her expression didn’t shift, her thoughts hidden as the speaker stepped forward. The speaker reached up and yanked back her hood to reveal a woman, older than Lainey, with a riot of curls and eyes that spat fire.

  Shea turned so those above couldn’t see her mouth move, saying in a voice that reached only his ears. “Victoria Haversham. I had not realized she was on the council.”

  “She seems to have it in for you,” he murmured back.

  Shea made a soft snort. “She would. She’s Griffin’s mother. She blames me for his death.” Shea thought about it and tilted her head. “And for him failing at becoming a pathfinder.”

  “That bitch at your side has caused more death and strife than any other pathfinder alive. She deserves to be put on trial and burned for her crimes,” Victoria said in a hard voice.

  Fallon felt himself go still, the monster inside, the beast that thirsted for the blood of his enemies and longed to bay over their bodies, raised its head. Over the years, Fallon had gained skill at controlling his monster, directing its energy to better pursuits than mindless killing. Still, when someone close to him was threatened, his leash on it slipped. Right now the monster would be only too happy to slaughter every person in this chamber as penance for threatening his woman.

  He forced himself to breathe instead, ignoring the itchy tingling in his dominant hand as if the skin itself seemed to call for the weight of his blade. Massacring the lot wouldn’t get him what he wanted.

  Nor would Shea likely stand aside and let him do it.

  Sometimes the facade of civilization weighed heavily on him.

  “You didn’t tell me your people were such scared little children, content to hide behind their walls while praying for salvation,” Fallon rumbled, giving the woman a look of thinly veiled disgust.

  “To be honest, it seems they are much faded since I’ve been away,” Shea responded, not taking her eyes off Victoria.

  He sensed the anger pouring off his mate and felt approval. Good. Anger was good. It could sharpen the mind where other emotions might cloud it.

  Victoria scoffed. “It’s not fear that keeps us out of the Badlands. It’s sanity.”

  “I don’t care what it is,” Fallon spat, his patience snapping. “We’re done here. We won’t sit through your hysterical accusations.”

  “You can’t go,” Lainey protested.

  Fallon bared his teeth. “Try to stop us. We’ve fulfilled our end of the agreement with your man. We’ve listened. Now fulfill your end or we’ll do it for you.”

  His threat delivered, Fallon turned on his heel, his Anateri already in motion as they pulled open the door before closing ranks around him and Shea. The protestations of the pathfinders’ council rose behind him, the din of which he was only too happy to ignore.

  They thought they could just throw words around and he’d sit back and take it? These people had no idea what sort of monster they were dealing with.

  Shea hurried to keep up as Fallon stalked along the hall. Everyone was quiet as they followed him, each keeping their own counsel. Fallon didn’t head to their room, probably a good choice given the state of things.

  After the debacle of that meeting, it was almost a guarantee there would be spies placed all around their quarters. Anywhere in the Keep was likely to face similar problems.

  Fallon seemed to realize it too, because he changed direction, heading for the stables and the horses that waited there.

  Braden watched as they approached, several horses already saddled and waiting. Fallon caught the reins and mounted. Shea wasted no time scrambling onto her own horse, prodding it in its sides to send it tearing after him.

  Together, they rode out of the Keep. Shea quickly took the lead, turning right as soon as she was over the bridge then taking one of the winding dirt paths that led down into the valley. The mist was a gray wall along one side and there was open air over a deep chasm on the other.

  They were quiet until they stood in the middle of a mountain glen, a field of flowers on all sides and a small stream meandering through it. This high up, big trees were scarce. It left them with an open view of their surroundings. It would be impossible for anyone to overhear them unless a spy was capable of inv
isibility. As far as Shea knew, there was no pathfinder or beast capable of such a feat.

  Shea drew her horse to a slow walk, the clip clop of its hooves carrying in the air. It was a rare sunny day, though not as hot as it would have been had the elevation been lower.

  “I take it things didn’t go well,” Braden said, his gaze watchful.

  “About as well as we expected,” Fallon said, glancing behind him at the Keep. It was veiled by the path they’d taken, only the highest towers visible from their current position.

  “You think they’ll do as they say?” Braden asked.

  Fallon tilted his head as his eyes turned thoughtful. “Hard to say. Right now, they’re playing games. I called their bluff—we’ll see how they react.”

  Braden looked at Shea. “What do your instincts tell you?”

  Shea stared at him, trying to think in the sideways manner her mother was so good at. “They didn’t go through all this trouble to get us here just to let us walk away so easily. She’ll try another tactic. This was just an opening gambit.”

  Strange that she’d let them see just how fractured their ranks were. Shea couldn’t figure out the purpose behind it. Always before, the pathfinders had been a unified front. Now factions were forming.

  The mother she remembered would never have been so careless as to allow such a thing to show to outsiders.

  “That was my feeling as well,” Fallon agreed. “Since confronting us as a unit didn’t work, she’ll try something more intimate next time. Maybe reach out to you alone, my telroi.”

  Shea’s mouth pursed as she considered. “I think it more likely she’ll go for you. It’s also possible she’ll approach one of the clan leaders, try to divide you in an effort to get what she wants. If you won’t give it to her, they might be willing.”

  “Won’t help her,” Caden said. “The clan leaders are limited in their power. None of them have the numbers to fight off what’s coming. Not even supplied with every boomer in your arsenal.”

  “How sure are we that what they told us is true?” Trenton asked. “It seems like a lot of trouble to just send us into the Badlands for a minor problem with beasts.”

  “Something has them spooked,” Fallon said pensively. “You can smell the fear on them.”

  “Great big gobs of it,” Caden agreed, his face grim.

  “The return of the mythologicals concerns me,” Shea said. “They are every bit as intelligent as a human and deadlier than the worst beast. If they are truly back, we will face heavy losses, even in the Lowlands.”

  If that was the case, it would begin to affect the supply lines for Fallon’s armies. They would become less mobile, which was one of the main reasons they’d been able to conquer so much land in a short amount of time.

  Causalities from beasts were already high. For that number to become worse meant Fallon might have trouble retaining the loyalty of his men.

  They’d already suffered one attack on the main army. Shea would hate to see that become a common theme.

  “And what, they think us marching into the Badlands will somehow fix that?” Trenton asked, the question echoing one that had been in Shea’s mind for a while now.

  “There must be more to it,” she said. “My father made it sound like they wanted more than just an alliance.”

  “I agree. If it was just that, they would have never brought us all the way up here, or let us into the very heart of their power,” Fallon said. His horse shifted under him, stamping at the ground.

  “We should send out scouts,” Shea said. She was suddenly the focus of several pairs of eyes.

  “Explain,” Fallon said.

  She tried to articulate what was nagging at her. “The way they’re acting, it’s like they know something is coming. We should see if we can find out what that is.”

  Fallon shifted in his seat, his gaze piercing. “See that it’s done.”

  Shea nodded.

  “For now, the rest of us will keep an eye out and see what else we can pick up,” Fallon said.

  “What should we tell the clan leaders?” Caden asked. “You know they’re going to wonder how today went.”

  Fallon tilted his head back, his expression already vexed. “Tell them that negotiations broke down. To treat this like any other Lowland village.”

  Both men nodded.

  “What happens if they try to back out of the agreement?” Braden asked.

  There was a short silence.

  Shea firmed her resolve. “Then we take what we need, just like we would in any other situation.”

  She met their stares with determination, as if she hadn’t just proposed betraying her former people. However, if it came to it and they were forced to seize the weapons, it would be because her mother broke faith first.

  Still, it wasn’t the easiest of things to digest, but something foul was blowing in on the wind from the Badlands. They were going to need every advantage they could get.

  CHAPTER TEN

  A nightmare yanked Shea out of a sound sleep. Somehow, she managed to stay quiet enough she didn’t wake Fallon next to her.

  Moving carefully, she slipped out of their bed, grabbing the thin wrap lying on a chair nearby and wrapped it around her shoulders to protect her against the chill of their chamber. She padded over to the fireplace, throwing a few logs inside and coaxing a flame out of them, patiently stoking them until they caught and warmth began pouring out.

  Settling onto the rug in front, she wrapped her arms around her knees and stared into the flames.

  She hadn’t been sitting long before a heavy body settled behind her and a muscular pair of arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a hard chest.

  Fallon’s lips found their way to the side of her head. He didn’t say anything or ask any questions, just sat there quietly with her until the stink of her fear had faded and she relaxed into him.

  Sighing, she uncurled, sliding down until she could rest her head in his lap, one hand wrapped around his thigh as she stared into the flames, mesmerized by their hypnotic flickering.

  “I feel like my dreams are trying to swallow my soul,” Shea finally said, her voice showing how bone-tired she was.

  His hand was soothing as it smoothed her hair away from her face. “Do you think they have something to do with what is happening now?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, but I’m beginning to think there might be more to them than normal. The bashe knew my name.”

  So much had happened after the issue with the bashe that they hadn’t talked about it. Not really. Now, she couldn’t help thinking everything was intertwined.

  “How did it know my name, and why was it after me?” she asked.

  “That is a very good question,” Fallon said, his voice soft. “One, I would dearly like to know the answer to.”

  Fallon wasn’t accustomed to being denied, and Shea suspected he wouldn’t rest until he found what he was seeking. Woe to anyone who tried to deny him.

  They didn’t speak much after that, and Shea fell asleep where she was, in front of the warmth of the fire with Fallon’s soothing touch in her hair.

  *

  Shea stepped onto the bottom stairstep and looked around. Sometime in the night Fallon had carried her back to bed. Somehow, she’d slept through the transition, a testament to just how tired she was.

  It had left her feeling a little more rested, even if she’d woken to an empty bed, Fallon having decided to let her sleep a little longer as he got up to pursue the day.

  She didn’t bother trying to track him down. He was probably training with his men, his presence driving his position home and letting them know they weren’t alone.

  She drifted toward the dining hall and the food that waited there. Although her mother was a stickler for people attending the evening meal, breakfast was a less formal affair and allowed people to file in and out all morning.

  Today was no different. Shea grabbed a pla
te and headed over to the platters piled with food. She grabbed some bread and eggs before making her way to a table in the very back.

  There weren’t many people here at this time of the morning. There were a few Trateri, probably the ones who’d just come off a guard shift, and even fewer pathfinders.

  Shea had only been sitting for a few moments, when a plate plopped down in front of her and Fiona sat down.

  Shea paused in her chewing as the other woman settled herself into place.

  “I never did thank you for saving me,” Fiona said. “That’s twice over I owe my life to you.”

  Shea arched an eyebrow. “I seem to recall it the other way. If you hadn’t attacked when you did, Braden and I would have probably died.”

  “Either way, I know you’re why we got out of there. If you hadn’t acted the way you did, we would have all been goners,” Fiona said.

  Shea didn’t know how to respond to that—especially when she still felt partially responsible.

  “Don’t mention it,” Shea finally said. “I did what was needed.”

  Shea took another bite and looked around. A young pathfinder, just barely out of apprenticeship, caught her eye as she ducked her head. The pathfinder turned to her companions, her face animated as she spoke. She and her companions snuck several glances at Shea and Fiona as they whispered to each other. A stifled laugh floated towards Shea.

  The food in Shea’s mouth turned to dust. She placed the half-eaten roll back on her plate, suddenly full. She pushed back from the table and stood.

  “Where are you off to?” Fiona asked.

  “Need to track down Eamon and then I’m going to check out some of my old haunts,” Shea said.

  “Mind if I tag along?” Fiona asked. “I have something to take care of with the scouts and have to go that way anyway.”

  Shea shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  Fiona stuffed a few more bites into her mouth before following Shea. They left the dining hall behind and headed out into the courtyard, dodging around a wagon and several pathfinders.