Wayfarer's Keep

by T. A. White

  He placed a hand on the back of her neck and ran his thumb up and down the bumps of her spine in a soothing caress, letting her know she had his support, no matter what. Fallon would take Shea as she was, even if it meant dealing with a new ability. Compared to negotiating a treaty with the pathfinders, this should be much easier.

  She was his world, the light in his darkness, the voice of reason when his primal instincts threatened to subsume the man he was, leaving nothing but a killer behind. She was as vital to him as breathing. They might lock heads, fight and make up, but they were partners too. At the end of the day, he chose her, and somehow, despite everything, she’d chosen him back. He would do anything to protect that gift she’d given him. Kill any foe, conquer any land. He’d wipe the Badlands clean if that was what it took. So, a little ability that meant she might be able to predict future events? That was no big deal.

  She took a deep breath, his touch soothing her. It was a secret pleasure of his, being able to comfort her even at the worst of times. It indicated she trusted him even when they fought. It was a rare gift for a man feared by most. It’s true he fostered that fear, but it was something he never wanted to glimpse behind Shea’s eyes.

  “What did you dream?” Darius asked.

  Shea looked back at him. Her expression warned Fallon of what she was about to say before she said it. Only one thing could put that level of desperation and fear on her face. His hand tightened on the back of her neck.

  “That I was back in the Badlands.” She took another drink from the goblet. “There were several mythologicals. They seemed to be the leaders of their species. They were interested in an alliance.”

  Fallon sat forward. “An alliance? Are you sure?”

  She nodded.

  Fallon sat back, tapping the table with his fingers. “That could be an interesting proposal.”

  Darius looked between the two of them, confusion on his face. “What are these ‘mythologicals’?”

  That’s right. Since he hadn’t been with them during any of the last encounters, Darius wouldn’t know what that was.

  Shea was the one to explain. “They’re beasts. Sort of. They’re intelligent, like us. They’re able to reason. Most can speak. They’re also highly dangerous and extremely deadly.”

  “I’ve never heard of these before.” Darius looked between the two of them, not quite believing.

  “That’s because they’ve been gone for a very long time,” Shea said. “Until recently, we didn’t know they were anything but stories used to scare children.”

  “If that’s the case, where have they been all this time?” Darius asked.

  Shea was quiet for a moment. Mist shifted, catching her attention and she gave the girl a fond smile. “I think they’ve been locked behind a seal in the Badlands.”

  Fallon gave her a sideways glance. This was a new theory. “You got that from your dream?”

  She gave an abrupt nod, suddenly unsure.

  “How did this seal break?” Darius asked, not missing a beat.

  His general was at heart a tactician. If Shea’s new abilities gave him intel he couldn’t get otherwise, he would use it to his advantage. It was the way of a warrior. You didn’t leave a powerful tool on the table just because you weren’t sure where it came from. They were a pragmatic people, and Darius and Fallon were among the most pragmatic.

  “From what I gathered, it had been weakening for a while,” she said. “Records we have support that assessment. Our trip to the Badlands must have finished the job. I’m not sure if it was Griffin or me who broke it.”

  Ah, now he understood her hesitance to go down this path. If she was the one who destroyed the seal, she would see herself as responsible for this whole mess, including all of the deaths from the last few days.

  He needed to put a stop to that thinking. He was well acquainted with how a mind could poison itself with guilt, turning even the best of warriors into shells of their former selves.

  “Either way, it was Griffin who called the beasts here,” Fallon said in a quiet voice, his eyes intent on hers. “He, and he alone, is responsible for everything that’s happened.”

  Shea held his gaze. He could see she didn’t quite believe him. That was alright. He’d repeat the message as many times as needed until it got through, and if that didn’t work he knew many tactics to distract her with. Pissing her off always seemed to work.

  “Here, here,” Darius said in a frank voice. He would have seen the same thing Fallon had. “When are we going to go after the bastard that started all this?”

  Fallon flashed a dark smile. “As soon as we’ve rested. I expect we’ll leave come morning.”

  Darius toasted him with the goblet. “I expect to be part of that group. I’ll take great pleasure in tracking this bastard down and subjecting him to our brand of justice.”

  Shea did well keeping her wince hidden. She wasn’t hardened as many Trateri were, thirsting for blood when someone wronged her. He didn’t hold it against her. She’d had a very different upbringing. As capable as she was, she hadn’t had to face the things they had, or make the choice between giving the children of the clan water or making sure the horses were well watered because you knew you’d need them when the next clan attacked.

  Her sense of right and wrong and her prickly exterior coupled with her soft inner self, were some of the things that he loved best about her. It reminded him that his people’s way wasn’t always the only one.

  “Actually,” Fallon started.

  Darius slammed the goblet down, ale spilling out of it. “No, I’m not remaining behind again.”

  “We need someone to lead in my absence and work with the pathfinders. Once this threat is taken care of, I want to finish putting the Highlands under my thumb,” Fallon explained. Darius was one of the few who he’d go to the trouble for. The rest he would have expected to fall in line with his command without question.

  “Have Braden do it,” Darius said, frustration on his face. “He needs to reestablish his position anyway, and he has more experience with the pathfinders.”

  Fallon considered it. His suggestion wasn’t bad, actually. Braden would push back, but Fallon could deal with that. Braden had been preoccupied with some of Fallon’s other interests for the last few years. Perhaps it was time he brought the other man back into the main body. They could do with a reminder of Braden’s leadership.

  “Very well,” Fallon agreed.

  Darius smiled as he sat back.

  “You know Daere is going to have words for you after this,” Fallon said in a conversational voice. That wiped the smile off Darius’s face. His cousin was a formidable woman and tended to be very creative in how she took her frustration out on other people. She was a bit like Shea in that way. The news that Braden would be more present in her life would be met with strong opposition. Since she was limited in the anger she could direct Fallon’s way, she would turn to Darius as the culprit.

  Fallon picked up a goblet, hiding his smile as he took a sip. Shea’s lips quivered in hidden mirth as she figured out what he’d just done. He ran his hand down her back, happy the distraction had lightened her mood.

  “Piss and balls.” Darius leveraged himself to his feet. “I wish those two would just fuck already. This dance of theirs is giving everyone a headache.”

  Fallon agreed. Shea looked over at him with interest and he nodded. It was no secret that there was something between his cousin and Braden. They were stuck in this repetitive pattern, neither willing to make their feelings known. So far it hadn’t affected their duties, mostly because they were never in the same place for very long. If it had, Fallon would have been forced to act sooner. It’d be interesting to see if things changed with the enforced close contact.

  “See what new information you can gather in your dreams,” Darius told Shea as he departed.

  “I don’t think it works like that,” she called after him.

  He held up
a hand in acknowledgment but didn’t pause as he stepped outside.

  Fallon stood and headed to the private side of the tent that had been set up for his and his telroi’s use. Shea could use a little private time with Mist.

  Small hands came up to turn Shea’s head toward the girl in her arms. Mist stared back at her, her eyes large and sad in that little face.

  “Are you mad?” Mist asked.

  Shea blinked at her, realizing abruptly that the little girl was talking freely. When she’d left her behind, she had spoken for the first time after being locked in silence, unable or unwilling to express herself.

  “You’re talking more,” Shea said, excitement and happiness bubbling up inside.

  Mist gave her a shy nod.

  Shea smiled at her and was relieved when the little girl gave her a tentative smile back. Her arms tightened around Mist. It surprised her how happy she was to see the child. She’d never seen herself as particularly maternal. Children were strange beasts that were great in small doses, but she’d never felt motivated to spend any time with them. Yet, her relationship with Mist was different.

  Shea leaned closer, touching her forehead to the little girl’s. “Why would I be mad, little one?”

  Mist’s eyes dropped to the ground. “Because I’m the reason you’re having those dreams.”

  Shea sat back in shock. “That’s not possible.”

  Mist refused to look up at her, almost turning away. Shea had to work to keep hold of the child, even as her mind raced. Could Mist be right? Was she really the one responsible for Shea’s dreamwalking? It seemed impossible—a child sending a dream from hundreds of miles away, but wasn’t that the point? These were the Highlands. What was possible and what wasn’t, tended to get mighty confused these days.

  Mist made a small sound of distress, knocking Shea out of her thoughts. She turned her attention back to the little girl. Whether it was possible or not, Mist needed her.

  “Shh, it’s alright. I’m not mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Shea pulled Mist into her arms, stroking her back in what she hoped was a soothing manner. “If anything, I should be thanking you. Darius seemed to think your warning was what saved us in the end.”

  Mist lifted her tear stained face and looked up at Shea through watery eyes.

  “How did you learn to do that?” Shea asked.

  Mist shrugged her small shoulders. “

  Shea pushed her advantage, recognizing the little girl’s trust was fragile. The hopeful expression on Mist’s face tugged at Shea’s heartstrings. The girl had burrowed deep in the short time they’d spent together.

  Shea’s voice was thick with emotion as she said, “You know, that big stone castle over the bridge is where I grew up.”

  Mist turned her head in that direction, as if she could see the place in question despite the numerous tents between her and it.

  Shea patted her back. “Perhaps, if you’re good, you’ll get to see inside. It’s where I learned all about beasts and pathfinding.”

  Mist’s voice was shy as she spoke, “Do you think they would teach me?”

  Shea let out a prayer of thanks that her reaction hadn’t scared Mist back into silence. It was a concern she’d had. She sensed Mist could lose courage at any moment and Shea only hoped she didn’t do something to throw her back.

  She gave Mist a smile. “Maybe one day, when you’re older.”

  Mist’s face fell and Shea joggled the girl a little.

  “You know my friend Clark is going to learn with them for a little while. When you’re as big as him, we’ll see.” Shea lifted her eyebrows in a question.

  The little girl giggled and ducked her head.

  There was movement near the entrance of the tent and Shea looked up as Daere stepped inside. A tall woman built along lean lines, she shared the tan skin of most Trateri. She had long reddish-brown hair and sharp features that were as striking as they were beautiful.

  Daere’s eyes unerringly sought the girl in Shea’s arms. A tension Daere had been carrying seemed to disappear and her face lightened in relief.

  Shea felt a moment of guilt, having no doubt Mist was the reason for that small glimpse of fear. Shea probably should have made sure Fallon’s cousin knew Mist’s whereabouts before letting the girl stay.

  Under normal circumstances, she would have apologized, but Daere wasn’t like others among Shea’s friend circle. She was a stickler for the rules and in her view, if the warlord never apologized, his telroi shouldn’t either, even when she acted like a thoughtless jerk.

  “Daere, I had hoped to see you,” Shea said. “It seems this one couldn’t wait for a reunion.”

  Daere’s face as faintly amused as she looked the two of them over. “So, it would seem.”

  “Aunty,” Mist said with a glad smile. Daere’s face relaxed, turning radiant.

  Shea tried not to let her surprise show. It was always slightly disconcerting to see how well Daere interacted with the child. Shea would have thought she was too strict to be as well liked as she was. Turns out that wasn’t the case.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, little one,” Daere said in a chiding voice.

  Mist lifted her arms asking to be picked up.

  Daere shook her head. “Oh no, those who disappear on their guardian without telling them where they’re going, don’t deserve to be carried.”

  Mist frowned. It was the first sign of a child’s normal rebellion, and Shea took heart at the sight. It meant Mist was beginning to heal from the horror of her past.

  Daere gave her a no-nonsense look. “Don’t start. Your bedtime was over an hour ago. Let’s go. Say good bye to Shea. You can see her again in the morning.”

  Mist held still for a moment longer before her shoulders slumped and she climbed to her feet.

  Shea couldn’t help herself, giving the girl a hug. “I’m glad you came, my little one. I have missed you.”

  Two small arms came up to wrap around Shea’s neck. “I missed you too.”

  Shea sat back on her heels. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

  Mist looked briefly consoled before her face fell and sorrow filtered into her gaze. She shook her head. “Covath is going to need you.” She slipped her hand into Shea’s. “You’re going to have to go back, but I will wait for your return.”

  Shea’s startled gaze lifted to Daere’s. The other woman looked no less surprised than she. Daere shrugged helplessly as Mist turned and trudged out of the tent.

  “Has that been happening a lot?” Shea asked.

  Daere shook her head. “Not that I’ve seen.”

  Shea stared at the opening through which Mist had disappeared. She turned to Daere. “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of her while I’ve been gone.”

  “It was no problem. Really.” Daere gave her a sideways glance. “Though if you’d like to say thank you, I’m sure a sharie will be held soon. They would love to have your ear to complain to.”

  Shea blanched, shaking her head, not even trying to think of a diplomatic excuse for her absence. There was no chance that she was getting sucked down that road. If she never had to attend one of those extremely boring and tedious gatherings again, it would be a life well lived.

  Daere’s smile deepened, the skin at the corner of her eyes crinkling. It was one of the few smiles Shea had seen Daere aim at anybody but Mist.

  “You know, you’re pretty good with children,” Shea said, changing the subject. She almost wished she hadn’t when Daere’s face froze, the smile falling off it.

  A mask slammed down, leaving only a glimpse of pain and grief so deep, it was a bottomless well.

  Shea got the sense she’d stepped into something that should have been left untouched. Shea could respect that and didn’t pry. She knew something of loss too, and everything in her was telling her Daere had lost someone close to her, a child possibly. There were no words that could fill the void or ease the p
ain. If the other woman ever wanted to share, Shea would listen. That was about all she could do.

  Daere gave her a nod before turning and following Mist out of the tent.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Shea blew out a breath, feeling like three kinds of idiot over the encounter with Daere. Only she could put her foot in her mouth that completely after only a few minutes of conversation.

  Shaking her head, she slipped behind the privacy screen and into the quarters she shared with Fallon. She came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Fallon, bare-chested, his shirt thrown across the bed, as he busied himself with a washcloth and bowl of water.

  Seeing her preoccupation with all the bare skin on display, Fallon shot her a knowing smirk as he ran the washcloth down his chest to his lower abdomen. His chuckle was dark as her gaze followed his hand. The sound pulled at things low in Shea’s belly and her breathing grew ragged.

  His smirk widened, morphing into a tempting smile. It spoke of sin and lust and things done in the deep of night. Shea couldn’t help but experience an answering warmth as she leaned back and gave him her own version of that smile.

  He was a wicked man. Dangerous to all women. Good thing he was all hers and she was all his. Otherwise, there would no doubt be women fighting for the right to claim him if they ever got a glimpse of the look he was currently aiming her way.

  “You know what I just realized,” he rumbled, dipping the cloth back into the water and running it over his neck and then down his arms.

  “What’s that?” she asked after a long span of watching him.

  He slid her a sideways look. “There are no spyholes here, no one to watch, no one to worry about. We’re alone.”

  She kept her smile contained as she gave him an arch look. “If you don’t count the fact that you have several thousand Trateri warriors on the other side of that very thin piece of canvas, then yes we’re alone.”

  He prowled toward her. “I’m not the one who always has trouble being quiet.”

  Shea tilted her head to look up at him as he loomed over her. She gave him a look beneath half-lowered eyelids as he bent, gathering her into his arms, his strength wrapping around her as his lips dropped to hers. She stretched on her tiptoes, fitting her body more firmly against his.