All Grif knew for sure was that there was no way Nayla was collaborating with their mystery voyeur.
But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a connection.
Or that one of his own crew wasn’t involved.
It was another worry. Another reason to be extra vigilant. His ability to the hold the threats at bay growing even more challenging, like Dragath sand slipping through his fingers no matter how tight he made his fists.
He’d been getting up early and going to bed late. Triple-checking everything. Now, he’d need to do more.
“You’re making a mistake.” Malin’s protest wasn’t a surprise. “She needs to be contained and re-interrogated.”
“Not happening.” Grif turned to Maddox. “Get yourself something to eat. Then take Nash and head back out. Track down the ghost, but don’t let him know you’re there. If he’s planning a move on the crew, we need to be ready. If he bypasses you and heads to pack territory, we need to know that, too. We can’t assume he’s here because of the mission or Nayla, but we can’t assume otherwise either.”
“Done.” But Maddox didn’t move. Instead, he cleared his throat and shuffled his boots in the sand.
Grif got the message. “Malin, gather the crew. I want to give them this latest news and let them know to stay alert.”
“But—”
“Do it.”
The male stormed off.
Grif waited until his teammate was well away before he spoke again. “Tell me.”
“The commander asked me to remind you that, feelings aside, eradicating any threat to the settlement is priority number one. We cannot afford to have another war brewing when the Council still poses a danger. If the pack or this ghost proves a hazard, they need to be taken out without hesitation. There are too many lives depending on it.”
Grif reminded himself Maddox was only the messenger, but the urge to pummel the shit out of his teammate rode him hard.
“I know it,” was all he said instead.
He’d promised Nayla no bloodshed. He’d promised her he’d protect her. But what if those things proved impossible?
His margin for error had just gotten even smaller.
42
“Watch that next foothold. It’s a tricky one.” Neck craned upward, Grif watched Nayla scramble for the next ledge, his chest tight.
After another rotation of hard travel, they were only a short distance from where the missing females were being kept. It should have been a cause for celebration, but the news about the ghost and the broken spear had left everyone even more on edge.
Especially since the currents had grown too strong for anyone who wasn’t Nayla or Sharluff to continue. Though it wasn’t a route her pack usually took, he’d made the decision to exit via the cliff and continued the rest of the way on the surface. At least it was almost as light out on the surface as it had been in the water caves, the two suns high in the sky.
But getting to the top was still tricky.
Scaling the short distance between them, he crowded as close to Nayla as he dared. “You okay, wild thing?”
“Yes.”
“There’s a small crack above your head to the left. Pull yourself up and wedge your foot in there. It will give you a chance to rest.”
“I see it.” Her arms shook as she dragged herself upward, the ground a long way off.
Even with the ropes he and Zale had tied together and set up to help with the ascent, it was slow going. The cliffs were steep and required maneuvering around massive treelike structures that grew in the crags of the cliffs. Some jutted straight toward the sky, while others were strangely curved with knobs that twisted in all directions. All were several stories high and bloodred, with ominous white spikes jutting everywhere. Spikes Nayla had warned brought agonizing pain and then death if imbedded and left in the skin.
Wouldn’t you know? The pack name for them was Gazi-teno.
He’d told Nayla he’d carry her up on his back. She’d declined. He’d suggested she get a ride on Sharluff. She’d said there wasn’t room. He’d insisted on her waiting until he’d made sure the others were all set, but then got delayed triple-checking the rope lines.
She’d started up without him.
He knew why. The news about the ghost and spear had left her more desperate than ever to prove herself one of the team—and remind him of her strength.
“Careful,” he growled. “Your rope is drifting too close to the spikes.”
“So is yours.” She glowered at him, and then slipped, her heel sliding off the ledge for a terrifying heartbeat before she righted herself again.
He shut up. There’d be words, but they would have to come later.
The only one who appeared to be enjoying the climb was Sharluff, who brushed off the sharp spikes like they were minor irritants and clawed his way up the incline with a satchel of glowing danashe crystals and Lana and Cam clinging to his back. The creature was definitely well adapted to this area in all ways.
Nayla’s climbing skills were less impressive. Her shorter arm and leg lengths made it harder for her to reach certain holds.
“You think Malin will understand directions?” She scaled another rock. “Find the females?”
“Yes.” He wanted her to concentrate.
“You think we do rescue this rotation?”
“If we can.”
He’d sent Malin ahead to scout out the female’s location and confirm that none of Nayla’s intel had changed. Scaling the cliffs as a group took time, but Malin was an adept climber. Sending him ahead meant no extra time wasted.
Plus, his usually loud and aggressive teammate had been strangely quiet all rotation. Not even a single complaint about Nayla’s suggestion being a delaying tactic. Nor another word about placing Nayla under lock and key.
Grif’s gut wouldn’t stop blaring in alarm.
But whatever he thought about Malin personally, he could not make himself believe the warrior would do anything to jeopardize the mission.
So, he’d given the male very explicit instructions. Scout only. No engagement.
After a scowling, prideful look in Lana’s direction, Malin had freeclimbed it out of there faster than Grif would have thought possible.
Few others, though, were finding the climb as easy.
“I thought we were a team.” Hurt roughened Nayla’s voice. “But you barely talk to me. You tell me nothing of rescue plan.”
Was that true? He was so busy planning and watching, staying on the alert, he probably had grown more distance. But then again, so had she.
“Or why,” she continued, “you, Zale, or Bain always by my side.”
She’d noticed. He’d wondered if she would. Until the ghost business was settled, though, that was the way it was going to be. “Now is not the time.”
“You think—”
“Nayla, stop asking questions and focus,” he growled.
At least she was almost to the top.
She swiveled to glare at him, strands of hair plastered to her temple. Her chest was heaving, her skin shimmering even more than usual, but she definitely looked proud. “I’m fine. I told you. I can care for myself.”
“And I told you, these are not normal times.”