Lorn had shouted to retreat, and the beetle had taken him next. After that, Eamon had grabbed Buck and squeezed them into a crevasse between two rocks, stabbing at it with their swords when it tried to root them out.
Shea asked them to repeat certain parts and expand on others. When they were done, she crouched behind the boulder and peered into the canyon, checking for any movement. Her mind churned through the information they had given her.
She ducked back and sat on her heels.
“What do you think?” Eamon asked crouching beside her.
“I don’t think they hunt by sight or smell.”
“Why?”
“Smell because it would have found us by now. Sight, well I didn’t see any eyes on that thing, did you?”
Buck tilted his head back, trying to remember. Shea hadn’t been in the state of mind to notice much of anything when she was trying to hack its head off. Of the three, he’d been the one to look it over afterwards. Shea had still been trying to wrap her head around the fact that it was over, and Eamon was busy attending to the dead.
“There were, but they were very small.”
“Right, that leaves sound. Buck said the first person it attacked was the one making the most noise. Then it attacked Lorn next despite Buck being closer. Also, if it was where I think it was a little bit ago, it would have had a direct line of sight on us. My guess is it’s attracted to vibrations.”
Buck started looking over his shoulders and up above their heads. “If it’s attracted to sound, wouldn’t it be able to tell we’re here already.”
“Possibly, but given how big that other thing was I don’t think it’d be able to fit in this tiny space. Besides, these cliffs act as amplifiers, which can make it difficult to tell a sound’s direction. I don’t think it’ll be able to pin us down until we’re in an enclosed space with it. It might know we’re coming though.”
“So we’ll have to be as quiet as possible going forward,” Eamon said.
“It’s not just speaking that we have to be careful of. It’s the way we move too.”
Eamon stood and adjusted the sword at his waist. Buck edged over to peer around their little rock shelter, taking a closer look at both cliff sides.
“We’ll spread out so if it attacks, the rest have a better chance of doing something,” Eamon said softly. “We know its weak spot now. We have a chance.”
Shea’s expression said ‘what the fuck is that going to do?’
“This is what a scout does, Daisy,” Buck said with a jaunty grin. “We go where others fear to tread. It’s why we’re the best of Hawkvale’s Army. Men fight for the privilege of being a scout. Father’s train their boys from birth for the sole purpose of joining our ranks. Who wants to be swinging a blade while hemmed in on their left and right when they have a chance at true glory? We slay beasts, and we’re not afraid of anything. Not even death.”
Buck drew his blade, crouched before looking to both sides and above, and then moved forward, walking as lightly as possible.
Eamon’s large body was framed in the opening as he looked back, giving her an inscrutable look before he too moved into the ravine. Unlike Buck, he didn’t crouch or hunch as if expecting a beast, but he did give everything a once over before stepping quietly out of their hiding place.
Shea sighed and drew her blade. She couldn’t let them go alone. They didn’t know it, but pathfinders had a similar mentality and were considered just as elite among her people. If she let them go alone, her dignity would never bear it.
Here goes.
As she stepped out, her body tensed for a blow that never came. She moved carefully, picking each foot up and setting it down softly before shifting to move the other foot, ensuring that she didn’t accidently kick any pebbles or step too hard. All the while she was on the lookout for any odd shapes, weird outcroppings or movement in her peripheral vision.
Buck had made his way to the cloth fluttering from the cliff. After scrutinizing the rock around the fabric, he pulled it down. He examined it before sticking it in his belt and returning to the middle of the canyon.
A tunnel, about half the height of Eamon, burrowed into the soft rock of the cliff. She edged around it, leaving a wide space between it and her. The empty blackness taunted her with what might be waiting to pop out. It was too small for an adult beetle to fit through. It had to be one of the ones the mother had dug to lay her eggs.
Shea crossed in front of it as quickly as she dared. Buck, on the other hand, approached stealthily and stuck his head in, trying to see into the black.
When he caught her eye, he gave a shrug that said he was curious.
These guys were crazy.
She followed Eamon, keeping an eye out and her weapon loose in her hand.
Still no sign of the others. Where did they go? It wasn’t as if there were a lot of places to hide. The sheer cliffs offered no shelter, and there were no boulders or trees to conceal themselves behind. Just rocky dirt. And burrows.
She froze, twisting to find Buck sticking his head down another one.
They couldn’t be that dumb, could they?
Eamon had stopped moving and was giving the burrows an assessing glance. He looked over his shoulder and tilted his head at the dark hole.
Yep, they could be that dumb. Shea mouthed a curse.
That’s why Buck was so all fired curious about the damn things. He thought their people might be in them.
He backed out of the latest one and shook his head at Eamon.
To those unfamiliar with the shadow beetle, it would have made sense to seek shelter in one of the smaller tunnels. The shadow beetle was too big to follow. It would seem like the safest place if you didn’t know about the hundreds, possibly thousands, of eggs filled with ravenous baby shadow beetles, just waiting to hatch.
Buck straightened and pointed at the tunnel he just checked, making the sign for tracks. It was no bigger than waist high and only about two feet across. He’d found several footprints in the dirt in front of it.
They shared looks of equal distaste.
None of them wanted to head down into the dark. Eamon rolled his eyes up to the sky as if to say ‘why me?’ while Buck rested one arm against the stone and covered his eyes.
Eamon crouched to the side and cupped his hands around his mouth whispering as loud as he could into the dark, “Vale? Anyone? Are you alive down there?”
Buck and Eamon tilted their heads, trying to hear a response.
Shea turned partially away and raised her weapon as she scanned the canyon. When no response came, Eamon duck walked a few feet, trying hard not to bump his head on the ceiling. He repeated the call.
A shout ripped through the blackness. It was piercingly loud in the quiet.
A ripple moved along the canyon wall and something scrapped against rock.
“Fuck, it heard that,” Shea hissed.
“Eamon, it’s coming,” Buck said urgently. “You need to get out of there. Get out of there, Eamon.”
As if a veil had been lifted, there came a pouring of screams from the dark.
The creature above them leapt.
Shea ducked, feeling the great immenseness of it pass within inches of her. She landed hard on her stomach and rolled, watching as the camouflaged bulk of the beast eclipsed Buck and the tunnel Eamon had been investigating.
“Shit,” she said, popping to her feet.