by T. A. White
“Hold,” someone called from the front.
Clark stood in his stirrups, trying to gain enough height to see what had caused the command.
Buck rode back down the line, his eyes bright with excitement. “Shea, you need to see this.”
He wheeled his horse and sent it bolting back towards the front of the line before she could even question him. Clark looked at Shea for two beats, before crying, “Hiyaw.”
His horse followed Buck’s. Shea nudged her mount into a trot. She crested a slight incline and pulled the horse to a stop, it turned in a circle as Shea looked down the slight decline in awe.
“It’s a city,” she said in wonder.
A very old city, one that looked like it had been here for centuries. Perhaps millennia. Dead and buried down here. Buildings as high as the cavern stretched as far as the torches illuminated. She squinted above them. She thought they weren’t as tall as the cavern, so much as their tops were embedded in the ceiling of rock, as if the cavern had formed around them and not the other way around.
“How is this possible?” Eamon asked in a soft voice.
“I don’t know. I’ve never heard anything about a city being down here,” Shea replied.
She wondered which one it was, if it stemmed from the cataclysm or before. Had to have, right? Who else was capable of such marvelous workings besides their ancestors? Even from here, even given the state of ruin it was in, she could tell the excellent craftsmanship—far beyond that of the last few centuries.
The buildings loomed like elegant giants, with as many broken windows as there were intact. Material the likes of which Shea had never seen, holding the weight of their frames up, even after these long years. The cavern’s cool climate had probably helped with that, but still. It was incredible.
“It gives me the creeps,” Gawain said, looking at the city with suspicion.
“Same,” Zeph said. “It feels like the dead wait inside its borders.”
“Really? I can’t wait to explore,” Clark said, watching the city with fascination.
“No one asked you, boy,” Gawain said. “Get back with the other soldiers.”
Clark flinched, his shoulders climbing to his ears and his face falling. His gaze darted to Fallon and away as he took the dressing down.
“I asked him here,” Shea said, staring Gawain down.
He snorted but didn’t say anything, Fallon’s presence keeping him from voicing his opinion.
“I’ll just go, Shea. It’s alright. I should probably report back to see if they need any scouts.” Clark didn’t wait for a reply, turning his horse and sending it galloping back to the line.
She watched him go before taking a deep breath. She turned back around. Eamon and Buck watched her for a moment before giving the Rain Clan’s elder hard glances. He didn’t pay them any attention, probably deciding they were no worthier of being here, than Clark had been.
“You do the boy no favors by making him think he can break the chain of command,” Gawain said, his tone patronizing. “You won’t always be there to protect him.”
Shea’s hands tightened on the reins of her mount. It took considerable effort to bite back the words that wanted to escape her. Only the knowledge that Fallon might have need of this man kept her from the scathing retort she had forming.
In a coordinated movement, made all the more comical for it, Buck and Eamon stuck their tongues out and rolled their eyes before assuming their normal stone-faced expressions—the ones they wore around Trateri expedition leaders whom they found obnoxious.
Shea smothered the brief giggle the sight caused her. She schooled her face and gave them a nod of gratitude. She looked up and blinked, as she found herself pinned under the enigmatic gaze of Fallon. His eyes flicked to her two friends then back to her.
She held her breath, sensing a chastisement coming. He lowered one eyelid in an exaggerated wink before sticking just the tip of his tongue out and wrinkling his nose. This time she didn’t quite contain her laugh.
Fallon’s face was cool and implacable as Shea lost the battle and her chortles rolled out. The rest of the party besides Fallon, Eamon and Buck eyed her with concern, not seeing what she found so funny.
“If the Telroi could compose herself, perhaps we could get back to the business at hand,” Braden said.
“My name is Shea. I suggest you remember it.”
Braden’s forehead wrinkled as he frowned at her. She held her breath waiting for the rebuke. He turned back to Fallon, ignoring her command. “We can send the scouts in first to learn more before the main body moves.”
Eamon nodded his agreement. “My scouts can recon the area and then report back. I think small teams of three to five would be best given our lack of knowledge.”
It was a good plan. One Shea would have recommended had she been in charge.
“I will be on one of the teams,” Shea said. She lifted her chin and met Fallon’s gaze. “Of all of us, I have the most experience with places like this. It would be a waste of a valuable resource to keep me back.”
“I think we can manage without you,” Braden said in a dismissive voice.
Shea ignored him, knowing that Fallon’s was the only opinion mattered.
Eamon voiced his opinion. “Her skills are some of the best I’ve seen, and she does have more knowledge of this place. It would considerably boost our odds.”
“I think she should go,” Gawain said, unexpectedly siding with Shea. “Shea,” he said, stressing her name, “might be able to see something our men overlook.”
Shea fought to keep the shock off her face at Gawain’s support. He’d made no secret his suspicion of her and her loyalties. The fact that he’d be in support of her addition to the scouting teams wasn’t only surprising, it was suspicious as well.
She gave him a sideways look but only saw an expression of concentration on Gawain’s face. There was no evidence of deceit or ulterior motives. She gave a mental shrug, setting aside his motivations for now. Perhaps he thought by letting her go, he could expose her for a traitor, or perhaps he thought she’d perish while scouting. Since either scenario wasn’t going to happen, she decided it would be a waste of energy trying to dig below the surface. Time would eventually bring his real motivations to light.
“You should send me as well,” Reece said, inserting himself into the conversation. “I have just as much experience as Shea. Furthermore, I’m the one who led you to this place.”
Eamon snorted. “Yes, the ambush by golden eagle has inspired such confidence in your skills and loyalty.”
Reece’s shoulders bunched, and he gave Eamon a cold look. “The eagles were no fault of mine. I don’t control them. Perhaps if your men had been a little quicker, they wouldn’t have drawn the eagles’ notice.”
“We don’t trust you,” Buck said, stating the truth in a matter of fact manner. “People we don’t trust aren’t typically sent out with the scouts.”
Reece lifted an eyebrow. “And yet you trusted Shea to lead you. Your scout team was the one she was part of for the past few months, wasn’t it?”
Shea narrowed her eyes at him. He was up to something. While that information was widely known among the Trateri, it wasn’t the sort of thing they would share with a prisoner, someone they barely trusted. Where had he gotten that little tidbit?
“Best be careful, boy,” Buck warned. “We don’t take it lightly when someone slanders one of our own.”
“Shea has long since proven her loyalty,” Fallon said when it looked like Buck was about to throw discipline to the wind and attack Reece. “The same cannot be said for you.”
Reece lifted his hands, backing down with one last glance around the group. He heaved a sigh but didn’t argue.
Fallon looked at Shea. “You may go with the scouts.” Shea took a deep breath and started to smile. “I’ll be going with you.”
She debated whether to argue but decided not to take his stipulation as a slight on her skills.
; “Fallon,” Caden protested. “That is unwise.”
Fallon gestured for quiet. “I’ve made my decision. You can send two of the Anateri with us if that makes you feel better, but we will be part of the scouting party.”
Caden shut his mouth, his lips tightening as his eyes shot to Shea in a glare that should have singed her eyebrows. It was clear he laid the blame for Fallon’s decision at her feet. If Fallon came back with so much as a scratch, she suspected Caden would find a way to take it out of her hide.
Guess she just needed to make sure they didn’t run into any trouble they couldn’t handle.
*
Shea stepped lightly among the rubble of the long dead city. She’d made the decision to leave the horses at the edge, feeling that it would be easier to make their way quickly and quietly if they were on foot. The horses the Trateri trained were hardy and perfect for war, not spooking at the scent of blood and vicious on the battlefield. She still didn’t trust that they wouldn’t get it into their little horsey brains to panic at the first sign of a beast.
That tight feeling in Shea’s chest that she’d been carrying around for the past few months as she tried to find her place among the Trateri started loosening as she slipped seamlessly back into the role she’d worn for most of her life. It was so easy to be this person, the one that always knew what they were doing.
She stalked along the deserted streets of a city that hadn’t seen humans in many generations, careful to keep her footsteps silent as she kept her head up and on the swivel looking for any sign of beasts or other things that could present a danger to Fallon’s army. Fallon, Eamon and two of the Anateri made their equally silent way, following behind her at a distance of about ten feet between each.
When she’d explained her reasoning for the distance, Fallon had given her a look like he wanted to demand she stay safe behind him but had taken a deep breath and then let her proceed as she’d wished. She’d been a bit surprised at the easy capitulation to be honest. She thought he would argue a lot more with her and that she’d have to point out she had way more experience in such matters. The fact that he had listened and ceded control to her gave her hope.
She held up her hand, fist closed, signaling a halt. The men behind her froze in place, their hands dropping to the swords at their waists as they watched the city around them with suspicious gazes.
Something was off. Something beyond the feeling that the city was watching, waiting. As if it was some great entity with a consciousness. One that was not entirely welcoming to these strangers.
Fallon didn’t waste time asking what was wrong or questioning what was there. He made two sharp gestures, signaling his men to spread out, leaving Shea to figure out why her instincts were telling her there was danger all around them.
People see so much more than they realize. Sometimes, especially when you’ve had years of training, something that you might not have consciously noticed, pricks at your subconscious inspiring those gut feelings. Shea had learned to listen to those feelings. They had rarely led her wrong. Right now, they were practically screaming. She just had to figure out what had set them off.
The city was quiet around them, the only noise that of other scouts far off in the distance. No movement in the buildings around them. Shea sniffed at the air. No smell either.
Still, she waited. Better to be slow and cautious then fast and dead.
Eamon, used to this behavior from her, edged into her view and gave her a nod, letting her know without words to take her time. He knew about her feelings. He’d learned to trust them. Fallon was equally content to wait.
After a few more minutes, Shea straightened, though she kept a wary eye around them. Whatever was there was gone.
Fallon made his way across the ground, careful not to make any sound. “What was it?”
“Not sure,” Shea responded. “It almost felt like we were being watched.”
“Are you sure that it’s not just this place causing that feeling?” There was no judgment in Fallon’s voice. He was simply asking a question anyone might ask.
For that reason, Shea gave it some thought. It was possible. Everyone was on edge. Zeph’s observation that this was a city inhabited by the dead wasn’t far off. It certainly felt that way, with its oppressive air and the feeling that it was waiting for something that would never come.
Shea looked up at the sky. Certain parts of the cavern ceiling had crumbled, crushing the buildings below and leaving rubble strewn all over. It had created gaps through which sun could pierce. The roots of vegetation grew through small spaces, as if reaching for the city below.
Shea shook her head. “I think this is separate from that. It’s the third time I’ve felt that we’re not alone here. It feels like something is following us, though I don’t know what, or who, or if it’s dangerous.” Frustration colored her voice.
Fallon laid a hand on the small of her back, giving her support without saying a word. She took a deep breath and met his gaze. He gave her a firm nod of approval.
She smiled at him briefly before turning back to the city in front of her. She took a step only to stop abruptly. This time it was no secret what had caused her caution. Low voices echoed off the deserted stone buildings around them.
Fallon let out a quiet whistle. His Anateri dropped to a crouch, running on swift feet to take position at the front of their party where the sound was coming from. Eamon found a spot and hid behind it, unsheathing his dagger.
Shea stayed where she was, knowing that Fallon would lose his mind if she tried to get closer or inserted herself into the middle of danger. She was willing to give him this. When all was said and done, she wasn’t a fighter. Not like the Anateri and Fallon. She would defend herself from a beast, but she would prefer not to.
There was a soft clatter as whatever approached sent a small pebble skating across the cobblestone street.
Shea held her breath.
A figure appeared around the building, followed quickly by another then a third—this one Shea recognized. She released her breath and straightened, calling out softly, “Buck.”
His gaze shot to hers, taking in the Anateri crouched and waiting and the tension in the rest of her party’s bodies. He raised his hand and waved.
The Anateri put their weapons up and straightened. Their bodies were still alert, but they didn’t look like they were going to spring into attack at any moment.
Buck was followed by Clark, Fiona and a man Shea didn’t recognize.
“Fancy meeting you guys here.”
Eamon snorted before laying a censorious glance on Buck. “I thought you had the western quadrant.”
Buck grinned and shrugged. “We finished our sweep and thought we’d help another group with theirs before we headed back to the rendezvous point.”
“I’m sure.” Eamon expression was wry. He was well acquainted with Buck’s curiosity. “I should have known you wouldn’t have been able to resist exploring further.”
“How’d you get stuck with this guy?” Shea asked in greeting as Clark and Fiona approached.
“Punishment.” Fiona’s voice was dry.
Buck pressed a hand to his chest in mock hurt. He turned and looked at Shea. “You want some company? We’d be happy to tag along.”
“Speak for yourself,” the tall man at Buck’s side said, looking around with suspicion. “It feels like these buildings are biding their time—waiting to consume us. My grandmother used to warn me about places like this.”
“Stuff it, Johnny,” Buck snapped back. “Put on your big boy breeches and act like a Trateri instead of a mealy-mouthed Lowlander.”
Shea gave Buck a meaningful frown at that insult.
“Hey, you’re not a Lowlander. You can’t take offense to those insults anymore,” Buck said, pointing a finger at her.
Shea sighed. “I don’t have an objection with your presence.” She looked at Fallon after her answer. He might feel otherwise.
He lifted an eyebrow and folded his
arms, making it clear this was her party. It was up to her.
“It’ll be like old times,” Shea told Buck.
He grinned back at her, “Hopefully not entirely. I doubt the Warlord wants to see you swinging off any buildings.”
Fallon’s response was swift. “Yes, this Warlord would prefer your feet to remain firmly on the ground for the foreseeable future.”
Shea shook her head with a wry smile. She didn’t say anything, but it was a sentiment she shared. She’d had enough sailing through the air to last for a lifetime. There were only so many times a person could freefall before their luck ran out and there wasn’t something to catch them.
“Before I forget, you didn’t happen to notice anything while you were looking for us?” she asked.
Buck cocked his head as he frowned in thought. After a moment, he shook his head. “No, nothing of note. How ‘bout you guys?”
Fiona spoke, “Nothing but empty buildings and silent streets. Not even the hint of the inhabitants who used to live here.”
Shea figured as much. Whatever, or whoever was out there, was doing a good job of disguising their presence.
Shea took the lead, letting the others fall in behind her.
“What do you think happened here?” Johnny asked.
“Whatever it was must have been pretty bad,” Fiona answered. “Most of these buildings look like they’re pretty intact even after however many years. The inhabitants wouldn’t have abandoned them without reason.”
“You mean besides the fact that they’re in a cavern?” Clark asked.
“I don’t know. A cavern doesn’t seem so bad,” Buck said. “You’re protected from most nasties and since no one knows you’re down here, it’d be hard to invade.”
“I don’t think I could give up the stars and the sun,” one of Fallon’s Anateri volunteered.
Shea agreed. Humans weren’t meant to survive in total darkness and isolation. There had been plenty of stories through the years of people going mad when living in either. Perhaps that was what had happened here. Perhaps the inhabitants did try to live down here and had gone crazy and killed each other. Stranger things had happened during that time period.