Fallon stepped past the other two, his hand coming out to haul Shea into his arms. Once there he clung to her, his hold tight. She buried her face in his shirt and inhaled, grateful to have a moment like this. For a minute, she had feared such things would be part of her past.
They didn’t waste breath on voicing the fear that had lived with them since the eagle attack, content to hold one another and just be. Eamon and Witt directed their attention out into the cavern, letting the two have a private moment.
Finally, though it hurt her to do so, Shea stepped back. They had important things to do. First among them—getting Trenton help.
“I’ll lead you to Trenton.” Her eyes met Fallon’s in the flickering light of the torch, their warmth conveying how glad she was to see him alive and well, before she turned toward where she had left her guard.
Hopefully, he would still be there when she returned—alive and threatening her with more training. Gods, she hoped he was still alive. She didn’t want to have to live with having left him to die alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“HOW LONG have we been down here?” Clark asked, keeping pace with Shea. “It feels like an eternity.”
Shea looked to find him craning his neck back to give the rock above them a dissatisfied glare. He looked back down with a huff, the small patches of visible sky, where the ceiling above had collapsed in places, seeming to have put him in an even more morose mood.
It was a sentiment many in their party shared as their time underground stretched to days.
“I told you; this way is longer because we have to go under the cliffs. Be grateful for the horses. If we were walking, it would take us a few weeks to make the journey. As it is, we’ll probably be back aboveground in a few days,” Shea told him.
Trenton had been recovered and treated in time. Shea had been right. He’d been more injured than they had first assumed and had been bleeding internally. Luckily, Chirron was able to stabilize and treat him.
For most of the first day, Chirron had kept him heavily dosed with Trateri medicines that caused him to sleep. After that, they’d had to allow him to be awake for travel. The daft man had tried to ride before both Chirron and Shea had come down on him, threatening to finish the job the fall had started, if he didn’t get off the damn horse.
It wasn’t until Fallon had ordered him off that he’d listened, though. Shea was still a bit sore about that. A fact she would make known to him once he was back on his feet again.
“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.