"Tactically sound," I corrected, not defending him—just acknowledging reality. "He used the weather as cover. Minimized risk to himself. That's what makes him dangerous."
She turned to face me, hands clenched into fists. "So what do we do?"
I looked at the destroyed den. Then back at her. An idea forming.
"We use it."
"Use what?"
"This." I gestured at the wreckage. "Kethar thinks he's won. Thinks we're demoralized, vulnerable. He'll attack again soon—probably tonight or tomorrow night, expecting us to be here, unprepared."
Her eyes narrowed as understanding clicked into place. "But we won't be here."
"No. We'll be at The Warren. Safe. Defended." I relocated to the opening, studying the approach routes with fresh perspective. "But we'll make this look occupied. Make him think we're still using it. Let him commit to an attack on an empty den."
"And then?"
"Then we ambush him. He comes here expecting easy prey—" I smiled, showing teeth. "—instead he gets a trap."
We set up the deception.
Left enough supplies to suggest occupancy but nothing valuable. Arranged furs to look like someone sleeping in the dim light. Created the appearance of recent activity—disturbed ash from a fire, water in containers, food partially eaten and left as if we'd been interrupted.
Hallie worked with focused intensity. This was what she was good at—problem-solving, planning, creating solutions from limited resources.
"There." She pointed to an overhang above the cave entrance. "Unstable. I could rig a rockfall. Anyone coming through that entrance?—"
"Would be trapped." I flew up to examine it more closely. She was right—the stone was fractured, held in place by friction and old settling. Wouldn't take much to bring it down.
"How do we trigger it?"
She was already climbing up, examining the structure with the kind of expert assessment that came from years of working with vertical spaces. "Rope. Or—wait." She pulled a piece of vine from her pack. "This. Stretch it across the entrance at ankle height. When someone crosses it, pulls this support stone—" She indicated a key piece that was bearing most of the load. "—and the whole thing comes down."
Smart female.
We spent two hours rigging the trap, working together in ways that felt natural now. When we finished, the overhang looked stable to casual inspection. But a single misstep would bring tons of rock down on whoever entered the cave.
"What about the approach?" Hallie asked. "They'll come from the air. Land outside, then enter on foot."
"I'll handle the aerial approach." I had my own plans for that. "You need to be positioned where you can trigger the trap if they somehow avoid it. And where you can defend yourself if they split up."
She nodded, already thinking through the terrain. "The ridge. Thirty feet up, good sight lines, defensible position. I can reach it without being seen from the air."
"Show me."
She led me to the position she'd identified. It was perfect—high ground that negated numbers advantage, narrow approach that meant they'd have to come at her one at a time, multiple escape routes if things went wrong. And from here, she had clear line of sight to the cave entrance and the trap.
"You'll stay here," I said. "If they come, wait for my signal. When I engage Kethar in the air, that's when you trigger the rockfall on whoever enters the cave."
"And if more than one enters?"
"Then you adapt. Use terrain." I pulled the obsidian knife from my pack—the one I'd been sharpening for days. "You're a climber—this is your advantage. They have wings, but wings don't help in narrow passages and vertical spaces." I handed her the knife. "If it comes to close combat, go for the wing membranes. Disable their flight."
She took the knife, tested the weight, confident. Ready.
"When do we move to The Warren?" she asked.
"Now. We set the trap, establish our real nest there, then return here before dark to wait."
