by T. A. White
Something waited in the heart of that place. Something Shea had met before.
A dark shape rushed towards her and the world spun, twisting and turning around her. Abruptly, she stood on a cliff overlooking a familiar valley, Wayfarer’s Keep a small dot in the distance.
A hand on her shoulder shook her awake. Shea lunged upright, nearly colliding with Chirron’s concerned face.
A choking fear consumed her and stricken, she turned toward the bed.
“He still breathes,” Chirron rushed to reassure her, guessing where her thoughts had gone.
Shea collapsed back into her chair, her relief stealing her strength for a moment. The chair next to her was empty, her mother having left at some point while Shea slept.
“I apologize, Battle Queen. It was not my intent to cause you worry,” Chirron said, his voice oddly relaxing.
Shea rubbed her face before her hand slid to the back of her neck. She squeezed it, massaging some of the kinks out. “No, you did nothing wrong.”
It dawned on her what he had called her. It seemed the title of telroi was no more. She was the battle queen now. For better or worse.
“I thought you’d like to know we’ve done all we can. Your people’s assistance was invaluable.” Chirron’s eyes went back to the bed. “It rests on him now and whatever deity might be listening to our prayers.”
“Thank you for all your help,” Shea said.
He gave her a graceful nod. His lips quirked in a tired half smile. “I guess you were right earlier.”
Shea’s expression must have reflected her confusion because he continued. “About healing you. I did need my strength.”
Shea didn’t know how to respond. Thankfully he didn’t take offense, just patted her on the shoulder.
“Sometimes it helps to talk to them,” he offered. “I’ll be just in the other room if you need me.”
Shea stayed where she was for several minutes, staring at the still form on the bed.
Even now, it was hard to believe that was Fallon. Her warlord, a force as powerful as any in nature, now silenced. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
That old enemy, guilt, crept to the foreground. It taunted her with what-ifs and what could have beens. If she’d woken when he did, if she hadn’t said yes to his offer, maybe he wouldn’t be dueling death right now.
She closed her eyes, a tear running down her cheek. It was too late now. Fate had stepped in and dealt its hand. Whether this could have been prevented or not, was a moot point. She existed in the now. This was her reality, bitter and awful though it might be.
She stood and walked to the bed, her steps slow and agonizing. Standing over him, her words deserted her. She should be able to express some of what was going on in her mind, tell him not to give up, tell him that she loved him and would be here when he woke up.
Instead, all she could think was that she’d prefer it was her. What a selfish thought that was, too. This was a pain she wouldn’t wish on anyone, and she knew had the roles been reversed and Fallon stood next to her bedside as she fought for life, he would have felt the same level of agony.
“I do love you,” she said in a choked voice. “And I want you to keep fighting. No matter what. I’m not sure if a happy ending is in store for us.”
Her voice cut off, emotion sealing her throat. She brushed a lock of hair away from his face.
“But I want that happy ending. I want it with everything that I am, and I’ll do anything to make it happen.” She looked away for a moment.
Her lips trembled as they formed a smile. “You would kick my ass or lock me up for what I’m about to do. It’s stupid, I know. Dangerous, and the chances of success are small. But I’m the only one who can do this, I know that, I can feel it.” She brushed the hair away from his face, her touch lingering. “You’re the one who made me the battle queen—a partner you called it—someone who doesn’t walk away or take the safest path just because it’s the easier one. You taught me that. You and Eamon, Buck, Charles and all the rest. Remember that when you wake.”
She pressed a kiss against his lips. “You will wake up. Please, please wake up. Give me something to return to.”
She straightened and dried her eyes. Her gaze lingered on Fallon’s face, memorizing it, committing it to her deepest memories so she might never forget.
Then she turned and strode over to a small chest that sat forgotten in the corner. She opened it and pulled out a pair of pants, a tan shirt and a green jacket.
Packing took moments. Her old supplies were all there, still in their pack. The only thing missing was food and water, easily picked up on her way out of camp.
In less time than it took her to dress, she stood at the foot of the bed. “I’m going now. I’ll see you when I return.”
Then she turned and walked out of the tent, not looking back, not pausing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Shea got as far as the edge of camp before the fog in her head cleared, the grief and rage created by Fallon’s near death and this relentless need to act lessening enough that she could think again. She stopped in her tracks and stared into the night, her shoulders bowed.
The threat Griffin presented needed to be dealt with. That was true. She was one of the few capable of doing what needed to be done. It didn’t mean she was the only one. There were others who could help. Racing off without letting anyone know where she was going or giving them a chance to weigh in was the height of stupidity.
“Telroi,” a hesitant voice said.
Shea was startled out of her thoughts and blinked in surprise as a woman sat up just a few feet to her right, her body previously hidden by the large form of a horse. Shea noted with some surprise that she’d paused near a corral of horses.
“What are you doing here?” the woman asked, standing up.
Shea thought she recognized that voice. She peered through the darkness, struggling to make out the woman’s features. Her face was shadowed, but Shea thought she made out a slight figure, a braid thrown over her shoulder.
It came to her suddenly, helped by the presence of the horse standing at the woman’s side like a very large guard dog. Her name was Eva, the throwaway who helped with the herds, the one whose bravery in protecting those herds had impressed Fiona and Trenton.
“Can I help?” Eva asked in a hesitant voice after the long silence.
Shea’s laugh was sharp and full of grief. “If only you could.”
Eva came closer. “Try me. I’m more useful than I look.”
“I’ve no doubt of that,” Shea said, her voice suddenly tired. Weariness seemed to drag at her. She sighed and looked at the woman out of the corner of her eye. “There’s something I need to do, but it’s going to hurt the people closest to me.”
“Have you thought about just talking to them? I’m told that helps.” Eva’s voice was self-deprecating on that last sentence. She pushed the horse back when it nudged her side.
“They’ll try to stop me.”
Eva made a small hmph. “You’re the telroi. I don’t imagine there are many out there who could truly keep you from what you want to do.”
Shea tilted her head back and stared up at the stars. That was truer now than ever before.
It left her with a choice to make. The old Shea would have left without ever questioning the wisdom of her actions. She would have assumed people wouldn’t understand why she needed to do this, or worse, that they would have been dead weight, dragging her down.
She sighed. Old Shea would have been wrong. This wasn’t something she could do alone, nor, if she was being honest, did she want to.
She turned back toward camp and was brought up short by the sight of the two men behind her. Caden and Trenton observed her from only a few paces away, both men’s expressions carefully veiled. Trenton’s arms were crossed over his chest, a sign that he wasn’t happy.
She should have known she wouldn’t be able to snea
k past these two.
Caden slid a quick assessing glance Eva’s way before his attention turned to Shea. “Fallon would not like this course of action.”
Shea had no doubt of that.
“Griffin needs to be stopped,” she stated in a frank voice.
“Not alone,” Trenton fired back.
Shea’s lips tightened at the unspoken reprimand before she forced herself to relax. “You’re right. I let my emotions get the best of me.”
Trenton went still in surprise at her easy capitulation. She wasn’t exactly known for letting others talk her out of a course of action once her mind was set.
Caden studied her. He knew as well as she did that she was right in one sense. Griffin could not be allowed to grow into a bigger threat later down the road. They needed to act, and as much as they might want to wait for Fallon to heal, they didn’t have that luxury.
He let out a breath, his fingers tapping against his arm before he nodded. “You’ll need a team, a small one. They’ll cover your back while you do what needs doing.”
Shea tilted her chin down.
“Where you go, I go,” Trenton stated in an implacable voice.
Shea fought a sound of amusement. Her guard was nearly as stubborn as she was.
“What’s this, nephew? Perhaps a secret mission my daughter simply forgot to include us in?” Patrick’s sardonic voice came from the shadows at Shea’s back. She whirled as he stepped around Eva and her horse. “I know you weren’t planning on heading out without us,” her father informed her. “You’re lucky we were in the area to save you from such a disastrous oversight.”
Reece drifted into sight behind him, shaking his head in disgust. “How is it you knew exactly where she’d be?”
“Age and wisdom, my young nephew,” her father said with amusement.
Reece scoffed and shook his head. “More likely one of your little spies.”
Shea blinked at the sight of the two, surprise keeping her motionless. “Does mother know you’re here?” she asked Patrick.
He gave her a dour look. “I do not need your mother’s permission, but yes. We agreed the threat of Griffin takes precedence.”
Shea pressed her lips together on a brief spurt of amusement, grateful the dark hid her expression.
Patrick’s voice turned serious. “I had thought to spare you this, given your warlord’s current state, but I see that will not be possible.”
He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. She gave him a grateful nod, appreciating the sentiment even as her throat tightened, making it difficult to speak.
Shea turned back to find Caden staring at the two newcomers. His gaze shifted back to hers. “I’d go with you.”
“You need to stay and watch over him,” Shea said before he could explain further. “There’s no guarantee there aren’t other traitors. He’s going to need your protection even once he wakes.”
Because he would wake. She had to have faith. It was the only thing keeping her moving forward.
Caden’s nod was grim.
Eva looked between them, the horse over her shoulder. “The warlord’s injured? How is the entire camp not up in arms at this knowledge?”
Caden’s attention snapped to her. “You’ll keep anything you learn tonight to yourself, throwaway.”
Eva jerked back, her face stricken. The uncertainty lasted only seconds before she lifted her chin in challenge, displaying that backbone Shea had noticed even during their short acquaintance. The horse at her side, sensing his mistress’s distress, stamped one foot and shook his head.
“Caden, enough,” Shea barked. “Eva isn’t going to run off spouting tales.”
Shea didn’t know that, not really. The woman was a stranger except for one encounter in the Forest of the Giants, but she’d impressed Shea with her strength of character and the way she cared for the horses. She doubted the woman would intentionally bring ill down on the Trateri.
Caden gave Eva another warning look before sighing. “Do you have a plan or were you just going to pick a direction to walk in?”
Shea shrugged. “I’ve got the beginnings of a plan.”
Caden shook his head. “Figures. Get on with you then. You need to be gone before either of the generals learn of this scheme.”
Shea let out a breath of relief.
“Shea,” he said, pausing. “Don’t die.”
“I won’t.”
“I’ll make sure she comes out of this alive,” Trenton said, stepping up to offer Caden a warrior’s farewell. The two men clasped each other’s forearm.
“You’d better, or I’ll make sure you’re remembered as the Anateri whose failure resulted in the death of a battle queen. No one will dare use your name for their future children after that,” Caden declared.
“I’ll be dead before I let something happened to her,” Trenton promised.
Caden released his arm. “Safe journey, old friend. I’ll see you soon.”
“Guard our warlord well,” Trenton said over his shoulder as he walked toward Shea.
Caden watched them go, lingering as their small group disappeared into the night.
*
“Do we really have to climb that?” Trenton asked, looking up at the last stretch of cliff, the faint moonlight making the ascent no less daunting than it would be in daylight.
They’d spent the last few hours making their way partially up the hill in the dark. Now they faced the final stretch of rock, one that would be tedious even at the best of times.
“Yes,” Shea said, staring up at it.
“Figures.” Trenton’s voice was sour as he put his hands on his hips. He was no doubt remembering the last time he’d followed her up a cliff. The experience had left him with several broken ribs.
Shea turned to Eva. For reasons known only to the other woman, she had trailed after them, even climbing the path up the hill, her horse a faithful companion at her side. Her presence suited Shea’s needs.
“This is as far as you should come,” Shea told her. “Wait here until sunrise. If we haven’t returned by then, it means my plan has worked. You can return to camp then and let Caden know.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” Eva asked.
“Then we’ll probably be dead and nothing will matter anymore,” Shea said. She didn’t wait for a response to that, starting for the cliff.
There was a small suggestion of a path that meandered up its side, but it was quickly lost over the rock. It forced Shea and her group to climb carefully as the way got rougher, until eventually they were clinging to its side as they edged up, inch by careful inch.
The others followed without complaint—or if there were grumblings, they were careful to keep them to themselves. A wise choice given the gravity of the situation.
It took them most of the remaining night to reach the summit. Dawn was just around the corner, the dark turning that peculiar blue-black indicating the sun was preparing to make its ascent.
Shea crawled up between a crack in two boulders, pausing to check on the rest of the group’s progress. Assured they hadn’t lost anyone, she stood up and dusted her hands off before looking down into the valley. The campfires of the Trateri flickered warmly. In the distance, the Keep and the cliff at its back were a dark shadow against the night sky.
This was it, the place from her dream.
Shea looked around. Except for her friends just below, she was alone on the top of the cliff, no sign of any mythological. Could she have been wrong about the dream? She’d taken this location as a message, a request for a physical meeting, but perhaps in her need to act, she’d misinterpreted her dream.
The other possibility was that her companions’ presence had made the mythological change his mind. He might have preferred this meeting occur alone.
Too late to do anything about that now.
Shea pulled her jacket close and settled in as the others trickled onto the small outcropping. They were alr
eady up here. Might as well give Covath a little time.
She stuffed her hands under her arms and stared into the night, grateful as the other men drifted away, leaving her to sit in silence. The sight from the cliff eased her after the turbulence of earlier. Her doubts and fears quieted, leaving emptiness behind. She wouldn’t call it serenity or even calm, just a blank space where once there had been nothing but.
There was a rustle of wings. It was her only warning before a large form landed with a thump beside her.
Covath straightened, his wings furling behind him. He was a spot of dark in a world of shadows, tall and menacing. Shea fought to keep from retreating. He was much more intimidating in real life than he had been in her dreams.
Her three companions came to their feet in a rush, their bodies alert and poised for action. She held out a hand to forestall them before giving Covath her full attention.
The faint moonlight provided a sliver of light to see by, but she almost wished it hadn’t when she saw the fangs denting his lower lips and the dangerous expression on his face. This creature was a predator, one whose entire evolution was geared to hunting and ripping the flesh from its prey. That she had planned to meet with him, alone, at night, was madness. Thank all the gods that she’d forced herself to stop and think.
Shea didn’t speak. Something inside told her the one who spoke first lost. Beasts were territorial by nature. Those that lived in packs tended to play a lot of dominance games. While Covath had displayed some human traits, Shea was willing to bet he saw the world along similar lines to predators.
Dealing with him would be tricky. She needed his respect without alienating him.
“You were supposed to come alone,” Covath rumbled, shooting a dark look at the humans behind him.
Shea shrugged. “There was a change of plans.”
Covath let out a menacing growl and lifted his hand. The rustle of wings reached them and then there was a small shout and a horse’s scream of challenge.
Several of the bat creatures who’d attacked the Keep that first night landed in the clearing. Eva was clutched in one of their arms, her face terrified. Buck was caught in another’s. He gave Shea a sheepish look and waved.