“Sir, yes, sir,” Roscoe and Ghost said in unison.
Eamon looked back one more time toward where he knew the Keep was and said a small prayer that the people within would make it through the night.
*
Shea climbed over another fallen mound of rocks, a candle held in front of her to light the way. She kept one eye on the ceiling above, the nightfliers that nested there were nocturnal and normally gone at this hour, but it paid to be careful.
They might not be part of the flock harrying the people below, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t take the opportunity for an easy meal.
“How much further?” Gawain asked.
Trenton radiated disapproval behind her, but he didn’t make any cutting remarks to the clan leader. He didn’t like Gawain’s presence, but he wouldn’t question Shea about her decision in front of the other man either—a fact she was grateful for.
She held her candle up higher, peering closely at the rock surrounding them. Was that shadow deeper than the rest? Yes.
“We’re here,” Shea said, moving across the unstable pile and slipping through the small opening.
She stepped into a long, narrow cave that looked like a tube. Two rails had been bolted into the rock floor and a strange contraption sat at the rear of the cave, a burlap sack covering it.
“Help me,” she said, making her way to the cloth covering and removing it.
“What’s this?” Gawain asked, his brow furrowed as she held the candle up to examine the contraption she’d revealed.
“Have you fired a boomer?” Shea asked. She probably should have asked that question while they were still on the battlements.
“Yes. We all have. Our clan is known for our skill with bow and arrow. The boomer was a logical tool for us,” he said, arrogance in his voice.
Shea decided to ignore the pride. If he was even as half as good as he seemed to think, she was willing to overlook the irritation he engendered in her simply with a look.
“Good. This is basically a bigger version of one,” Shea said. That wasn’t quite right either, but she didn’t have time to run him through all the ways this was different. “Just considerably more powerful.”
That would have to do as an explanation.
“And what do you want us to do with it?” he asked.
She met his gaze and lifted an eyebrow. She thought that was obvious. “I want you to shoot down everything in the sky.”
He laughed for a moment thinking she was joking. His smile faded as her face remained serious.
“How do you expect us to do that?” he asked, his voice full of disbelief. “I’ve never used a weapon of this nature before. Not to mention, look at where it is.”
They all looked at the weapon. It didn’t look like much, crouched in the dark like some wounded animal. It was far from the opening in the cliff where it would do any good. While it had wheels on the bottom, it had been ages since the last time it was used. Possibly centuries.
What Shea was asking was a stretch. Quite possibly the most out-there plan she’d come up with yet. Crazy. Insane. A whole host of other words that pretty much meant the same thing. Yet, it was all she had.
“When was the last time this was even used?” One of Gawain’s men asked, appearing over his shoulder. The man reached out and touched the weapon. She knew what he felt, the smooth grain of wood—one with a warmth to it that made it feel almost alive. His expression showed his lack of conviction.
“It’ll work. The Koa has always been my people’s weapon of last resort,” Shea said. She moved to the back and began pushing. There was a sharp squealing noise, but the Koa shifted forward a few scant centimeters.
Gawain and his men shared a glance. Resignation filled Gawain’s face and he waved them to help Shea. He and his men took up positions around the Koa, helping her shift it forward inch by laborious inch.
They finally got it out from under the awning of the cave, into open air. The battle raged below them. The odds had shifted while they’d been occupied with the Koa. Fallon and his warriors were slowly being forced back into the Keep. Already they’d lost control of the first curtain wall.
There was no time to waste. She busied herself, preparing the weapon. She’d never actually used it—she doubted anyone alive in the Keep had—but her mother had made her memorize the process of preparing it for use. Just in case.
She found the five suction cup-like things on either side of the weapon’s head. They felt like flowers until they jerked, lunging up and wrapping around each finger before giving a slight pulse. They reminded her uncomfortably of a Venus Flytrap finding prey. There was a small prick on each finger and then the slow drip of her blood.
The Koa unfurled, something like vines sprouting from its base. They lengthened, until they reached the various metal rings that had been bolted into the rock around where the Koa had stopped, wrapping around them securely.
