On the other hand, if she started cutting them down too soon, the spinners would descend on her and any action he took would be pointless. She wished they had arranged some signal so she could be sure.
As she waffled, a bright red light shot into the sky followed by a high pitched whistle. The red briefly cast the canyon into sharp relief showing dark blotches high up on some of the walls and closer than Shea would like on the ground. A high screech echoed off the cliffs, and the blotches burst into movement, heading towards the light’s origin.
Shea drew her blade, moving to Fallon first. She sawed furiously at the strands holding him, careful not to touch any of the threads with her bare hands. Falling into a euphoric stupor wouldn’t help any of them at this point.
Getting one of his hands free she shoved a spare knife at him, directing him to cut himself free before heading for the stranger. The web strands were thicker around him, nearly cocooning him from the neck down. There might not be enough time to cut through everything before whatever distraction Eamon had created wore off.
She hacked at the strands above him with a single-minded desperation. Counting on the surge of adrenaline to counter the effects of the web, she used her other hand to pull threads away. He fought and struggled against the thread binding him, nearly driving his skin onto her blade a few times.
Only a quarter of the web had been cut away and already she could hear the enraged screams as the spinners realized their prey was escaping.
She cut faster, tugging and pulling, as a sweet euphoria stole through her veins making her head feel light and disconnected. Still, she hacked and cut, nearly jumping out of her skin as hands appeared before her to help pull the last resisting threads from the stranger’s body.
She blinked dumbly up at Fallon as he shoved his shoulder under his friend’s arm and half dragged him out of the web. The stranger’s lower body was still covered in the white strands, but he was no longer chained in place.
All around them spinners screeched in anger and pain.
Free at last, Shea glanced down the canyon, noticing the orange light bouncing off the walls as web after web caught fire. Larger than life shadows were cast against rock as spinners fought to smother the flames with anything they could. More than one cast their own bodies onto the flame. Their black bodies caught fire, and they fell from their webs, the canyon’s walls reverberating with their death screams.
It was a tension fraught run from the spinner’s lair. Shea was still feeling the effects of the webs and knew the other two were probably dealing with a lot more. Her fingers felt thick and her legs heavy. She was overcome with the urge to just stop, lie down, and sleep.
Her mouth opened in a jaw-cracking yawn, and she focused grimly on the task at hand- setting one foot in front of another until they reached safety.
It was easy to find the horses, for which Shea was grateful. She wasn’t too confident about being able to find her way in anything but a semi straight line at this point.
Once there, she stared stupidly at the beasts and then at her companions. There were three of them and only two horses. How were they supposed to ride if there were only two?
Maybe two of them could ride and the third person could run alongside. Then they could trade off after a few minutes. Would it be possible for a half a horse to carry one person?
Shea was deep into trying to figure this problem out when Eamon came sliding down the canyon’s sloped wall.
Great, now there were four people and only two horses.
“Shane, what are you doing? We have to get out of here,” Eamon said, moving to his horse and preparing to mount.
“But there are only two.”
“What?”
“Two horses, four of us. The math doesn’t add up,” Shea told him.
“So two people to a horse,” he said, stress making his voice tight and tone sarcastic.
She blinked at the horses again and then at the other two who looked even more befuddled then her. Oh. Why hadn’t she thought of that?
“Tonight, Shane. Before those things catch up.”
Shea nodded, forgetting it might be difficult to see her in the dark and then kept nodding until she reached up and grabbed both sides of her head to make it stop.
“Fallon’s with you.” Eamon mounted and helped the stranger up behind him.
Shea turned to look at Fallon’s dim figure. “But I don’t want to ride with him.”
“I don’t care,” Eamon said sounding angry. “What’s the matter with you?”
“He must have touched the webs,” Fallon answered for her. “It can make acting normal difficult.”
“We don’t have time for this. Get on the horse, Shane.”
Shea crossed her arms over her chest and glared mutinously up at him. Suddenly, it seemed very important that she get her way, and she wasn’t moving one inch until she did.
“Shane,” Eamon warned.
Fallon abruptly sat down before falling backwards as he passed out. It was so unexpected that Shea started giggling.
“Son of a bitch.” Eamon’s words were heartfelt as he carefully dismounted, doing his best not to disturb his passenger. “Shane, I swear to all the gods that if you don’t stop giving me trouble, I will beat the living shit out of you once we’re safe.”
Even in Shea’s slightly drugged state, she knew he meant what he said.
“Fine.”
She helped him get Fallon up so he was laying facedown over the horse’s back before climbing up after him.
Chapter Sixteen
When a few rocks skated down the hill next to them, the party halted abruptly. With a flick of his fingers, Eamon signaled Shea to gain some distance from him while he steered his horse further down the path.
She waited, her hands tense on the reins, prepared to take off at a moment’s notice. Fallon, a still presence before her, hadn’t stirred since they placed him face down over the horse.
Small pebbles skittered down a few feet behind Eamon, and they both looked up. The moonlight shone off the exposed rock in the near vertical slope. While the hill was too steep for the horses, it was manageable for people or beasts. The names of every nocturnal beast that favored these environments ran through Shea’s mind— she didn’t want to encounter any on a night like this.
Eamon circled around and drew his sword, his eyes trained on a dim figure sliding down in a hail of dirt and rock.
Sensing their riders’ mood, the horses were quiet and motionless as if they too waited for the next shoe to drop.
Eamon waited until the two men were midway down before threatening in a low growl, “Stop where you are, or we’ll open a few extra holes in you.”
One of the men looked down, his expression lost in the dark. “Eamon?”
“Buck?” Eamon’s voice was puzzled but pleased. “What are you doing here?”
Buck and Phillip made it the rest of the way down the slope, sliding the last few feet. Safely on the ground, Buck said, “We saw the flare and figured you had found the package. Thought you might need help, so here we are.”
He waited, obviously hoping they would fill him in on what they had discovered, but Eamon kept his council, telling him instead, “We need to head back to camp. Are your horses close? Otherwise you’ll have to follow when you can.”