Fallon and Shea had been told the delay was due to several of the council members needing to be recalled to the Keep. Shea had a feeling it had more to do with the pathfinders’ need to exercise their power.
It put Fallon and his people in a difficult place. Every day they lingered here, the Trateri grew more and more bored and restless. They were like anxious toddlers, but ones capable of killing the people who irritated them.
It was an incendiary situation that needed only a single spark to turn bad.
She didn’t know what her mother or the council hoped to accomplish with this needless wait, but she hoped it wouldn’t last much longer. She was ready to be gone from this place.
Angry voices echoed down the corridor.
Trenton and Shea shared a look.
“We could just ignore it,” Trenton said, offering her an out.
Shea’s shoulders slumped. As much as she would like to, it would just create problems later down the line. From the sharp tones, it sounded like violence wasn’t far. She had a duty to make sure that didn’t happen, even if she would have preferred knocking a few heads together herself.
Shea picked up her pace. She rounded the corner and slowed as the arguers came into view. Things just kept getting worse and worse.
Van and Gawain stood with their backs to her, their large forms dwarfing the pathfinder in front of them.
Of all the Trateri she could have run into up here, these two clan leaders were the ones who gave her the most trouble. They’d made no secret of their dislike of her. As a result, she tended to avoid them whenever possible.
She doubted her ability to keep them from doing anything they didn’t want to.
“This area is off limits to you,” a strident voice said.
Shea moved into view. The pathfinder confronting the two men was one she recognized. Ronan had been a few classes ahead of her. He was a stickler for the rules, rigid and stringent with little room for leeway. In his world, there was no reason to stray from them. Those that did earned his enmity and rancor.
Considering Shea had never been much of a rule follower, it meant that the two’s relationship was uneasy and fraught with polite tension.
His gaze swung to hers and he frowned. He was shorter than Shea and looked like an angry gopher, rounder than most pathfinders and wearing glasses. His hair was short and curly and his face seemed set in permanent grumpy lines.
Van and Gawain didn’t let his objections bother them, sharing a look over his head. As one, they stepped forward, crowding the pathfinder and shepherding him to the side so they could slip past.
Ronan’s face turned red and he trailed behind them, forgetting Shea for the moment. “I just said you can’t go there. It’s not safe.”
Van waved a lazy hand over his shoulder. “You’re welcome to try to stop us. I would greatly enjoy the exercise.”
He touched the sword at his side in clear threat. Ronan’s face paled, but he didn’t back down, his lips tightening until they were a thin line.
“It’s fine, Ronan. I’ll go with them,” Shea said, seeing where this was going. The last thing they needed was for Van or Gawain to rough up a pathfinder. Shea could just imagine the council’s reaction if that happened. The two clan leaders were looking to start a fight and she didn’t think they cared about the consequences.
Ronan turned to look at her, his expression disgruntled. He was the type to dig his heels in when challenged, becoming unexpectedly stubborn at the most inconvenient times.
Shea waited for him to argue, to point out her poor status as a pathfinder. Van and Gawain paused, their faces curious as they waited for his response.
Ronan opened his mouth and hesitated, his attention going to the other two men. Finally, he nodded. “If you must. Just try to keep them from breaking anything or getting themselves killed.”
With that, he turned and stalked away.
Noise at the end of the hall drew Shea’s attention. Her warlord sauntered toward her accompanied by Zeph and Caden. He lifted an eyebrow at the sight of the four of them.
Shea gave him a sour look in return and answered his unspoken question. “Rain and Lion decided they wanted to explore. I’m making sure they don’t burn the Keep down.”
Van snorted. Shea couldn’t tell it if was amusement or disgust that inspired the sound.
“We’ll join you,” Fallon said, looking over the group. “I am curious about this place as well.”
Shea felt a wave of relief. She hadn’t been looking forward to trying to corral the other two men by herself.
