Shea lifted the reins over her mount’s head, a creamy white mare with dark spots along its body. She was pretty and fast, and totally wasted on someone of Shea’s riding level.
“We’ll be trading a nest of beasts for a den of vipers. I doubt our sleep will be any better behind the Keep’s walls than it is here,” Shea said after checking to make sure her saddle was on securely.
She stuck a foot in a stirrup and then muscled her way into the saddle as Buck held the reins and looked up at her.
“At least we’re not having to babysit whiny greenies,” he said, using a term for a new commander who had no clue what they were doing but nonetheless tried to throw their weight around in the worst possible ways.
“Somehow, that’s not the comfort it should be,” Shea said. She had a feeling that before this was through they were all going to wish they’d never set foot in these infernal lands.
CHAPTER THREE
Mist curled in on itself in a roiling cloud. Tentacles crept along the ground before returning to the main body. A wall of gray stretched as far as the eye could see in the narrow valley, shrouding what lay behind it.
Most of the time, the mist here was wispy and thin, more of a suggestion than a reality. On a good day, you might get a glimpse at the Keep that waited at its heart. Today was not that day, the mist thick and impenetrable even as its edges meandered and swirled.
“We have to go through that?” Buck asked, his face apprehensive as he watched the cloud.
The mist’s edges stirred, almost sentient in the way it reacted to his words, as if it welcomed their attempt to pass.
“All who visit the keep must first pass through the mist,” Shea said in a soft voice.
The sight was unsettling, even for her. She didn’t blame her companions their hesitation. She’d traversed this stretch of ground more times than she had fingers and toes, and still the sight filled her with a sense of unease, a discomfort—like a pebble in your shoe or the feeling that danger was near, waiting just behind the next boulder.
There was no way around it, not with the nearly vertical hills on either side. The only way through was forward.
Eamon stood near them, no happier about the prospect of going into the mist than any of those around him. The sharp planes of his face were chiseled with grooves he liked to tell Shea were there because of her antics. Normally appearing stone-faced to those who didn’t know him, his expression was nearly as familiar as her own, his wise brown eyes studying their surroundings with an intense focus.
He and Buck were among the few Shea trusted at her back even in the worst of times. Both men had ridden down more than one dark path with her, never questioning her reasoning. They might have complained—in Buck’s case there’d been a lot of complaining—but they always trusted her to have a plan, to have some idea of where they were going. She’d saved their lives, and they’d saved hers two-fold.
This wasn’t the first time the two had encountered the mist. She knew they were probably remembering another time, where trees grew as tall as mountains and the mist had nearly claimed their lives.
Reece sauntered up to where they stood by their horses. A break had been called so they could figure out a way to get everyone through the mist without losing anyone. The pathfinders would be fine, but the Trateri were as susceptible to getting lost in that soup as any Highlander who hadn’t undergone the trial.
The problem of getting through the mist had created a greater obstacle than her father had perhaps intended. The Trateri didn’t trust the pathfinders and the pathfinders felt the same about the Trateri. Fallon’s men weren’t happy about placing their lives in the hands of a bunch of strangers. Not when it meant being led blind through the mist, while hoping that the person on the other end of that rope was leading you into safety and not to your death.
“Your friends aren’t afraid of that little scrap of mist, are they?” Reece asked with a sly smile.
“We’re Trateri,” Buck said, jutting his chin out and giving the other man a crazy grin. “We’re afraid of nothing.”
Eamon grunted, his expression even more severe than usual.
Reece’s lips twisted. “Then, you’re stupider than you look. Only a fool feels no fear in the face of that.”
He jerked his head toward the mist that waved at them with smoky tendrils.
“Doesn’t look too bad to me. No worse than the last time, at any rate.” Buck clapped a hand on Shea’s shoulder and tugged her in front of him. “And you forget, we have this one on our side. She wouldn’t lead us astray.”
A crafty expression dawned on Buck’s face. “Or is it that you’re the one afraid and you’re hoping for a little solidarity on this side?” His face turned understanding. “It’s okay. Not everyone can be as great as us. We understand and will console your pitiful fears.”
He held his arms out and gestured for Reece to come and give him a hug.
Reece looked at her friend like he thought he’d lost his mind. An apt reaction given Buck’s nature. Shea had to conceal a smile or else risk tipping Reece off to the game. It was rare for her cousin to be out-Reece’d, but it looked like Buck was more than capable of matching him.
“Go on,” Eamon rumbled. “His hugs are miraculous. They’ll soothe your mind.”
Reece got an odd expression on his face, and he slowly started backing away from the three of them. This time Shea’s mouth trembled with the need to laugh. She got her face under control and gave her cousin a sympathetic look, her eyes big.
“Yes, cousin. They’ll change your life.” Her voice sounded slightly strangled by the end.
