“Did you bring friends?” Shea asked, giving Fallon a hard stare. The effect was ruined by the water still coursing down her face.
“Thought they were yours,” he said with a charming smile.
“Oh?”
“Yes, we found them standing next to your trapdoor. They’d put a wine barrel over it.” His smile was almost feral as he aimed it at the men who were sitting or lying, beaten and battered, on the ground. “When questioned, they decided to get physical. We accommodated their needs, like good guests should.”
Shea blinked at the sight of Reece standing there with his arms folded, alternately glaring at the men on the ground, the Trateri guarding them, and then Shea.
“And Reece is here, why?” she asked.
Fallon stepped up beside her, his presence a warm comfort at her side. “Ah, he’s the reason we’re here actually.”
Shea raised her eyebrows at him in silent question.
“He raised hell a little while ago. Demanded to see you and then when he discovered you gone and for how long insisted we come find you. He’s the reason we found the trapdoor.” Fallon’s voice held a note of grudging respect.
Shea owed her cousin a thank you. She was pretty sure things would have gotten even more difficult had someone not been there to open that door when they did.
“You’re not going to get away with attacking us,” one of the men said around a fat lip. He glared at the Trateri. “Our people are going to have your heads for this.”
Shea smiled at him, taking a step closer and crouching right outside striking distance. “Who was your friend below?”
He sneered at her, even as his eyes turned wary. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sure, he didn’t.
“I’m interested to know why these asses decided to seal you down there,” Caden said in a conversational voice, prodding the man who’d spoken in the back.
“I confess I’m interested in that myself,” a woman said from the shadow of the stables.
Shea straightened as her mother stepped into the moonlight, several shadowy figures at her back.
“And while you’re at it, you can tell me what you were doing down there as well, daughter.” Lainey’s piercing gaze fell on Shea. Something flickered in it as she took in Shea’s state.
Shea’s mouth firmed as she slid an uneasy glance to Fallon. He shook his head at her. He hadn’t heard her mother’s approach either.
“Guildmaster, these barbarians attacked us,” one of the beaten men said.
Lainey held up a firm hand. “We’ll get to you later.”
Shea met her mother’s expectant gaze and kept her mouth closed as she tried to find an excuse. None came to mind. “Did you know there’s a ballyhoo below the Keep?”
Lainey’s head tilted as she considered Shea’s words. Unease poured off some of her companions, the news having the same effect on them as it had on Shea.
“No, but that still doesn’t explain what you were doing down there in the first place,” Lainey said.
Shea fixed her mother with an impatient look and stuck her hands on her hips. Exhaustion pulled at her, her eyes feeling heavy and gritty.
Something of what she was feeling must have shown on her face because her mother’s face relaxed, her shoulders loosening. “But perhaps we can have that explanation somewhere warm and dry.”
That was fine with Shea. What she had to say would be better in private anyway.
“Nephew, if you and your new friends would escort these men to the cells?” Lainey said, not taking her eyes off Shea and Fallon. “You two may follow me.”
It was not a request. Lainey turned and strode off before they could argue, fully expecting them to follow.
Shea and Fallon shared another look. His face showed the faintest trace of aggravation at being ordered around like he was one of his warriors. She shrugged at him. What could they do? This was the pathfinders’ home and in these walls her mother was judge, jury and executioner. She didn’t know if arguing over an opportunity Fallon would have arranged himself given half the chance, was worth it.
