“Do whatever you have to, but make sure you’re alive at the end of it,” he said, his voice raw.
She nodded, stepping back. She waited as he closed the passageway, sealing her into the dark. Nerves bit at her.
It was different this time. She’d never felt this antsy before, her senses on high alert. Perhaps because she’d never had anything to anticipate on her return, or maybe because she could feel something in the air that warned danger lurked just over the horizon, waiting for her to let down her guard.
Enough light was coming through the various cracks in the rocks and peepholes that she was able to move relatively easily along the passageway. She didn’t want to chance lighting a candle since its light might be seen in the darkened rooms she passed.
It would be a shame to have gone to all this effort just to get caught now.
Every now and then, she bumped into stone as the passageway narrowed, forcing her to slide through sideways. It was a tight fit in places, and she had to be careful not to get the bag caught or make too much noise as she forced her way through.
Shea knocked her elbow against the corner of a stone and bit back her groan. Whoever had built these had left them half-finished and rough, the stones not smooth and perfectly aligned as they were in the rest of the Keep.
She consulted the mental map she’d memorized of the hidden passageways that Whelan had given her and headed for one of the short stairs leading to the lower levels. She had given Eamon and the rest orders to meet her near the stables.
It took a while to work her way through the castle. The hidden passageways didn’t go quite everywhere, and she had to pass through some of the main hallways, keeping to the edges so she could remain unseen.
Finally, she reached the meeting place. She lingered in the shadows, watching the back side of the stable. There was no one watching, from what she could see, but nor could she see her team.
She settled back to wait.
It didn’t take long before the scuff of a boot alerted her she was no longer alone. She peeked around her stone wall to see Eamon and several others walking past her.
“Psst,” Shea hissed.
Eamon turned to look, hustling the rest of his team over when he saw it was her.
“Anybody see you?” he asked.
Shea shook her head. “No, we should be good.”
Shea looked around at the people Eamon had brought. Five in total, including Eamon and Fiona—it was a good scouting party. Light and fast, but with enough people that they could handle trouble as long as there weren’t too many enemies.
“This it?” she asked Eamon, nodding at the rest.
“Aye. This is Ghost and Roscoe. They’re nearly as good as you were when you first came to me. I’m sure you remember Phillip.” Eamon said.
Shea lifted an eyebrow in wry amusement at that statement. She was surprised at Phillip’s addition. She hadn’t seen him in a while. Unlike the rest of her original team, he hadn’t received the same sort of rewards they had for saving Fallon’s life.
“It’s been awhile, Phillip,” she said. “I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you and if we’d ever see you again.”
She hadn’t been as close to him as she had been to Buck and Eamon. He’d joined their group late, and they had only begun to get to know each other when their unit had been split up.
His teeth flashed white in the dark. “I’ve been taking care of a few things for Henri over the past months.”
Shea felt a flash of surprise at the statement, and what his admission meant. Henri was the Horse Clan leader, but there were also rumors that he was also the founder of the Stray Wind Troop, a group everyone had heard of but no one seemed to have ever met. Acting as the eyes and ears of the warlord, they were the dark counterpart to the Anateri. Just as dangerous, too.
She looked back at Eamon. Even in the moonlight she could see the warning in his eyes. She swallowed what she’d been about to say, not knowing if the others had put it together.
She looked carefully at the rest. Judging by the careful way Fiona wasn’t looking at Phillip, she was willing to bet Fiona knew, or at least suspected. The other two men were a little more difficult to read.
“Right. Well, it’s going to be a bit tricky getting out of here without being seen,” she said.
“How are we going to take the horses?” Ghost asked.
“You’re not,” Shea responded.
There was just no way to get them out and remain undiscovered. If she’d been the one coordinating the spies on the Trateri, the first thing she would do was have someone stake out the stables. The Trateri were a people who spent much of their lives on the back of a horse. They were put on their first one almost before they took their first steps. It would be unthinkable to leave without them. Which was why they weren’t taking horses.
