The gentleness of the place soaked into them, soothing some of the tension Shea had been carrying since that morning.
Their moment was interrupted when Trenton’s voice came from the other side of the vines. “I think I’ve found something.”
Shea and Fallon stepped out of their alcove to find Trenton and the others gathered at the far end. She noted Caden fall into step behind them from where he had waited near the wall.
Trenton held some vines back, revealing a wooden door that was about half the size of a normal door. He jiggled the knob. “It’s locked.”
Van stepped forward, a grin on his face. Before Shea could stop him, he kicked the door open, splintering wood already fragile from time and exposure to the elements.
“Van,” Fallon barked.
Van held up his hands as if to say, it was already done.
“And that’s why Ronan didn’t want you coming in here,” Shea grumbled to herself.
Fallon let out an angry sigh. Shea patted his chest before following.
Trenton waited at the door, holding the vines for her. “Your people seem to have a fondness for secret places.”
He wasn’t wrong. Shea liked to compare those secrets to an onion. Every time you exposed another layer, there was something beneath it. She doubted even the guildmaster knew everything there was to know.
The room they walked into was different than the one they’d just left. This was a perfect circle with a staircase going up to the next floor. It was one of the old towers, the smallest one at the heart of the Keep. It didn’t serve a purpose anymore, but once it had probably been an important defensive feature.
A trickling liquid sound reached them. Silver water cascaded down the walls in ribbons bursting out of three beasts’ mouths to pool in the small stream that ran beside the wall.
Gawain walked over to it, peering up in curiosity. He held his hand out as if to touch. Shea lunged forward, grabbing it before he could.
“Not a good idea,” she said as he turned on her with a snarl.
Trenton was there in the next moment, looming menacingly near the clan leader. Gawain’s face settled into cautious lines as his attention went to a point over her shoulder.
She turned her head to see Fallon staring the other man down, the skin on his face tight and his expression close to madness.
She needed to turn their attention to something else before they exploded into violence.
“It looks like water, but it isn’t,” she explained, ignoring Fallon for the moment.
She plucked a stray leaf from her hair and crouched down, dipping it in the liquid. It wilted, dissolving in seconds.
Gawain got a sick look on his face as he watched. Shea didn’t blame him. It could have been his hand to dissolve; the silver liquid was strong enough.
Zeph crouched next to her, his expression fascinated as he dropped a stick into the liquid. Within second it had been broken down, disappearing from view.
“Give me your knife,” Shea told Zeph.
He hesitated. It was clear he didn’t want what had happened to the stick and leaf to happen to one of his weapons.
“Don’t worry, I’ll give it back,” Shea said.
With reluctance, Zeph pulled a dagger from his boot and handed it over. Shea dipped it in the silvery water, careful not to get the wood and leather of the handle too close. She drew it back up, letting the excess drip from it before turning it to present to Zeph.
The blade gleamed with a muted brilliance.
“I need something to cut,” Shea said.
Van held out a piece of leather in two hands. Shea placed the blade against it, barely pressing as the leather split in two, the blade cutting through it as if it had no more substance than water.
There were exclamations and the warriors crowded around her, taking the blade from her and examining it, each taking their turn at cutting something.
