Gawain’s men backed up, eyeing the Koa with reactions somewhere between fear and awe.
Shea ignored them as the Koa continued its transformation, growing and straightening, the neck elongating towards the battle as the tightly furled sepal parted to reveal the petals at its heart as they started to bloom. Shea could see a soft glow inside where the stamen and stigma would have been had it truly been a flower.
Shea glanced over it. That should be it. That’s all the directions had said to do.
“Alright, this should be ready,” Shea said, glancing over at the others.
Gawain and his men had forgotten their fascination with the Koa and now stared down at the battle with grave expressions, able to read the chances of survival better than Shea could.
She paused in what she was doing, something in their expressions giving rise to a suspicion in her. It struck her that Gawain might actually be happy to see Fallon dead. With the attack by the beasts, there would be no one left to say he’d used deceit to engineer the warlord’s death.
An ambitious man might take advantage of that fact. Use it to his advantage to take Fallon’s place. There would be no one the wiser except for Shea and Trenton—both of whom could be easily done away with up here—with no one the wiser. All he’d have to do was throw their bodies over the drop. Gravity would do the rest.
She glanced back at Trenton where he’d stopped several paces behind them, his hand lingering near his sword, his body poised and alert. He studied the three in front of Shea, his expression blank. His gaze shifted and met hers. With a slight tilt to his head, he indicated she needed to move away from Gawain and his men.
She nodded and stepped back. The possibility of betrayal sent a sick twisting sensation to her stomach.
And here she’d just handed them a powerful weapon they could turn on Fallon and those below.
Gawain’s head turned toward her and he studied her. The moment stretched out between them, impossibly long despite the urgency of below, balanced on a knife’s edge.
Tension gathered in her muscles. She stared at him, her hand tingling with the need to go for her weapon.
“Show me how to work this,” he finally said, turning his attention to the weapon.
Shea’s shoulders relaxed. Whatever thought had crossed his mind had gone.
She glanced back at Trenton. He still looked on edge. This could still be a ruse, a ploy to lure her into complacency.
She stepped forward and pressed in two places, lifting up a latch hidden under the Koa’s leaves and pulling back the wooden knob of a slide. Wood and plant thrummed under her hands, a soft glow illuminating the dark. This decision had been made as soon as she chose Gawain to accompany her up here.
She couldn’t do this by herself. If she didn’t trust him to do this, they were dead anyway. Might as well do all she could so when she met her forebears, she could do so with pride.
Gawain watched as she showed him how to use the Koa.
“You aim through here,” she said, indicating a piece of small wood that looked like a horseshoe on top. “Then you press down on this.”
Her thumbs tapped a butterfly looking leaf on the back of the weapon. It was hard, more like wood than a leaf should be. Next, she stepped close, allowing two vines to wrap around her shoulders so she was supporting some of the Koa’s weight. It meant her chest was pushed close to its stalk as the vines created a harness around her. “Make sure your shoulders are pressed tight to this. It’ll help you maneuver.” She twisted side to side to demonstrate.
To her surprise, it wasn’t Gawain who stepped up to take the Koa from her. It was one of his men. He wasn’t much taller than Shea, a rarity among the Trateri who towered over almost all Lowlanders and Highlanders.
Shea stepped back, grateful when the vines slithered away. She let him take her place, watching as he stood still for the vines to create the harness before he twisted experimentally. He moved relatively easily as he pivoted and moved the Koa’s head up and down, aiming it at the beasts below.
There was a harsh thump—something you felt in your chest as much as heard—as he depressed the butterfly lever and the Koa’s head sparked, tiny beams of light flying out in a thin stream. The weapon bucked in his hands, only the vines from its base keeping it stationary.
“So that’s why it has to be bolted down,” Shea muttered to herself after he’d let go.
A victorious war cry ripped from his throat as a grin overtook his face. “Whew. It has a hell of a kick, and it’s virtually impossible to aim, but look at it go.”
Both Gawain and the other man looked shocked at the lethality of the weapon.
The man depressed the lever again, and Shea covered her ears to protect them from the bark of noise as he shot into the air over the Keep. Several of the bat creatures dropped, dead as soon as they were struck.
“Come on,” she yelled to the others when she could be heard again. “There are several more just like this.”
Gawain nodded, following her with an enthusiasm he’d been missing before.
She led them several slots further down in the Reaches. Not all the small honeycomb slots had a Koa. They’d either been lost over time, broken, or were removed for some unknown reason. Only a very limited number were left, scattered throughout the Reaches.
