“Shea,” Eamon chided. “It’s better to have warriors with you. We already know there are monsters waiting in there.”
“No. The more people we take, the greater the chance of being discovered. I’ll be lighter and faster on my own. In and out before anyone or anything knows. You forget, I’ve been traveling its depths for over half my life,” Shea said.
She could see Fiona wanted to argue. Not Eamon, though. He’d been with her on more than one mission out there. He trusted that if she said she’d be better off on her own, she was right.
“We’ll leave at the moon’s height,” Shea said. “Keep this to only those who are going, and don’t discuss it in the Keep.”
“You think there are spies there?” Fiona asked.
“I know there are. The place is riddled with secret passages. You never know who might be listening,” Shea warned before taking her leave.
*
Back in the keep, Wilhelm fell into step with her before she’d taken more than a few steps inside.
She arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m a little surprised you waited until now to show up.”
He gave her a soft smile, his eyes sleepy and amused. “The commander could handle anything that might happen in these walls.”
Shea felt herself pause. He must mean Fiona. His words were high praise and she mentally upgraded Fiona’s abilities. It was rare for her Anateri to give credit to anyone not in their ranks. That he did so said something.
“We thought it best if you weren’t constantly surrounded by one of us,” he continued.
Shea made a sound of agreement. He was probably right. It would send the wrong message to the pathfinders if she was always surrounded by Fallon’s men. In typical sneaky fashion, they’d still managed to make sure she was protected. Got to admire that.
“I hope you enjoyed your morning off,” Shea said in a sardonic voice. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
He glanced at her, his expression expectant. “Where are we off to first?”
“We’re going to go see a teacher about a primer,” she said.
His forehead wrinkled, but he didn’t ask questions as she pointed them to the part of the Keep where the children had their lessons.
The pathfinders—like many of the Highland villages—were a self-insulated society, and like all societies, people tended to couple up and produce the next generation. The pathfinders might have a more rigid structure based loosely on a military unit, but that didn’t mean they weren’t human.
Children were considered a blessing here, and as long as their parent’s relationships didn’t cause an unacceptable disturbance in the Keep’s mission, they were accepted.
For that reason, a nursery had been set aside and the children of the Keep were given the best of instruction, better than anything they would get in the outside world.
The door to the children’s nursery was always open. Housed on an upper level of the Keep, it was a large room filled with toys and games to keep active children entertained all day.
Shea stepped inside, her eyes instantly drawn to the children of various age ranges, everything from a toddler to ten years old. At that age, they tended to apprentice to a master pathfinder and their days in the nursery became very short.
A tall, thin man glanced up from where he was reading to a tow-headed child who had a mischievous grin. For a moment, Shea couldn’t help but wonder how Mist would fit in among these children. The lostling she’d quasi-adopted had a thirst for knowledge equal to any child here.
With a sigh, she put such thoughts out of her mind. They were a long way from anything like that, if they ever got to such a point. Right now, they didn’t even have a firm alliance.
The man stood, his long face wreathed in a smile as he walked over, a slight limp hindering his progress.
“Allyn, it’s good to see you again,” Shea said with a heartfelt smile.
“To what do we owe this honor?” he asked, stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his smock. He wore pants and a shirt like most pathfinders but over it he’d donned an oversized apron equipped with many pockets. Shea knew from past experience he tended to lose things in those pockets, everything from toys, to plant cuttings he’d decided to study in more depth.
Half-scholar, half-caretaker for the children, his limp prevented him from the life of journeying most pathfinders enjoyed. The disability hadn’t stopped him from making a place among them. He’d been part of the nursery since shortly before Shea left it.
She’d always liked him. He had a gentle soul and was one of the few who never seemed to judge others, no matter how badly they screwed up.
“I was hoping for a few primers. Particularly those that mention the mythologicals,” she said, her smile hopeful.
