Fallon wasn’t far behind her by the time they made the first platform. There, they took a brief rest, letting the rest of the group catch up. There were several strangers among them, four men that Shea recognized as Anateri and two others that she assumed were in the upper echelons of the clans. Witt was the last to join their group, his quiet calm suffusing his gaze as he glanced at Shea.
She took a deep breath and released it. She needed to talk to him about what he’d told Fallon, and why. The more pressing question was how he had known what he did. The pathfinders guarded any information about the mist and how to navigate it with a zealousness that bordered on mania.
The first of the strangers had hair that looked like someone had caught the sun and then poured its light into its strands. He was big, bigger than Fallon, and he walked with that perfect, self-aware balance that only warriors seemed to possess—the kind that said he was mindful of his surroundings and prepared to fend off an attack at any moment.
The other stranger was as dark as the first was fair. His skin looked nutbrown, and his hair had been tied entirely back from his face. His eyes were two pools of dark brown highlighted by streaks of amber. He was slight where the other man was muscled, and he moved with a dancer’s grace. He looked at the others in the group with a friendly caution, not fully suspicious, but not at ease either.
Shea didn’t engage with them, content to stay to her side of the platform and watch them from afar. The blond looked like he’d spent a little too much time training—she recognized him. He’d come out of several meetings that involved the clan heads. She was willing to bet he was one of those heads.
Trenton and Wilhelm moved to the next series of ladders and rope bridges and Shea followed close behind. There was a little chatter at this stage of the journey, but Shea knew it would soon drop off as the climb tested the group’s physical endurance, forcing them to save their breath.
Shea and her guards would be in a better position later, as she’d made a habit of taking this trip whenever possible in the past few months, and they had been forced to tag along with her.
They’d just passed the third platform and were taking a breather on one of the rope bridges when Fallon came up to her.
“I can see why your climbing skills were so developed when we first met, if this was the kind of place you learned on.”
Shea gave him a crooked grin. “This isn’t where I learned to climb cliffs.”
He arched one eyebrow, one side of his lips pulling up in a half grin. “Oh? A story you haven’t told me then. I’d be interested to learn where you developed that particular skill set.”
She gave him a wry look. “And if I tell you, will I wake to find the camp preparing to pick up and move?”
A smile cracked the stern mask he normally wore, lending warmth to his expression as a hint of playfulness peeked through.
“It’s always a possibility.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Then perhaps I’ll wait until a better time to tell you that story.”
She looked away from him, still smiling. The dark-haired stranger watched them with a curious expression. His eyes drifted between Shea and Fallon with an almost perplexed look in them.
“Who are your friends?” Shea asked Fallon.
He glanced in the direction she was looking and then away, almost turning his back on the other two as he bent and said in a low voice. “The blond one’s name is Van, clan leader of the Lion clan.”
“And the other?”
“His name is Chirron. He’s a friend of Braden. Technically, he does not hold any power in the clans.”
“And in reality?”
“He’s probably one of the most powerful men amongst the Trateri, with the exception of myself and possibly Darius.”
Shea gave Fallon big eyes. How was that possible? Especially since he wasn’t in the clan hierarchy.
“He’s the leader of our healers. They denounce all ties to their clan once they take their vows. It’s to prevent them from being biased and only offering their services to one clan. In reality, it gives them a voice in all clans.”
And because they were healers, no one would want to risk angering them and having them refuse to assist their clan in times of need.
“Is he a friend or foe?” Shea asked.
Fallon looked over her head, his eyes distant. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“He sounds interesting, if you can’t categorize him,” Shea said, her eyes lighting up playfully.
His gaze came down to rest on her. He reached up and tugged on a loose curl, watching in fascination as it straightened and then sprung back when he let it go. She let him do that several times before she batted his hand away and gave him a warning look.
“It is not always easy to tell friend from foe. Chirron, especially, keeps his motives close. I can’t tell if that’s because he’s planning something, or if it’s a natural response from having to deal with the fractious clan elders.”
Shea saw Wilhelm and Trenton begin to move again and knew their discussion was almost at an end.
“Probably a bit of both, I’d guess.”
He made a sound of agreement.
She followed in Trenton and Wilhelm’s wake, leaving the rest of the group to keep up. She was surprised at how well the two strangers were doing, less so with Darius and Braden who probably followed a similar training regime as Fallon and would have stamina for days.
They made the rest of the journey easily, Van and Chirron not falling back or voicing any complaints, even when their breathing turned slightly labored. It was one of the things Shea liked best about the Trateri. They rarely complained about things that couldn’t be changed. It was a welcome departure from some of the charges she’d led while in the Highland.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SHEA GAVE a full-bodied stretch once they’d stepped onto the last platform, hands above her head, back arched as she lengthened throughout her body. It felt sinfully good after the climb, her muscles stretching pleasantly to counterbalance the strain she’d put on them.
She felt Fallon at her back moments before his hand landed on her stomach. He leaned down, his breath tickling her ear. “What do you do to me?”
She tilted her head back to look at him questioning from upside down. “What do you mean?”
His gaze was searching and filled with dark things as he looked down at her. His eyes did strange things to her stomach as it dipped and flipped. She felt warm stirrings at the heat and intensity he was aiming her way. He sighed heavily, the erotic intensity in his gaze disappearing.
“Now’s not the time,” he murmured. He stepped around her, his hand sliding to her back and ushering her forward.
She blinked at him in confusion, not quite understanding what had just happened. That had come out of nowhere. It made her wish they were closer to their tent and bed, though she knew such a wish was selfish.
Eckbert stood at the head of his people as they waited for them on the other end of the rope bridge that marked the beginning of the village. They would have to cross that bridge one by one to greet the headman and those gathered.
Trenton and Wilhelm stayed at Shea’s side while Fallon debated with his two advisors who should go first. Darius and Caden were in favor of anyone but Fallon being the first across the bridge, pointing out the need for caution since the Airabel, while allies, were still not to be trusted.