“Either way, it’s clear someone in our ranks is working with whoever is using the beast call to control the beasts,” Lainey said in an authoritative voice that still managed to be slightly chastising.
“Agreed,” both Shea and Fallon said.
Lainey nodded, the movement somber. Her gaze went to Fallon. “I cannot give you the Highlands because they’re not mine to give.”
Fallon folded his arms across his chest, looking her mother over with dark eyes. “That’s fine. I never expected that of you. It’ll be enough if you provide pathfinders who can guide my men to every village.”
She inclined her head. “That I can do. From there, it’s your responsibility to secure their loyalty one by one.”
The smile that dawned on Fallon’s face was slightly cruel. “I’d have it no other way. My warriors are more than capable of the task.”
“And in return you’ll work with us to protect the Highlands from what’s coming,” Lainey said.
This time it was Fallon’s turn to incline his head in a magnanimous gesture. “I would not leave my telroi’s people to face this threat alone.”
Lainey studied him for a long moment, her gaze intent and piercing, weighing the pros and cons of such a deal.
In many ways, an alliance with Fallon would be a boon for everyone. He had the men and the will to do something to turn the rising tide, but he could also be the despotic dictator that he was portrayed as being in so much of the Lowlands.
Shea knew he wasn’t. In every village he’d been to, he’d tried to instill some sort of order. Sometimes it was training the villagers to fight. Other times it might have consisted of forcing them to undo some of their crueler practices such as stripping women of any and all rights.
He wasn’t perfect. Nor were his people, but at least they were trying.
“Then you have a deal,” her mother said, sticking her hand out.
Fallon stared at it in confusion.
Shea explained, “Our people have kept some of the old customs. Such a gesture is something people used to do long ago to seal a deal. The dominant hand is meant to convey they are unarmed in a sign of trust.”
Fallon’s eyes were thoughtful before he reached forward and clasped Lainey’s forearm. “I can kill just as easily with my left hand as my right.”
Shea sighed, ignoring that statement before turning to her mother, her expression cautious. “And what about the council? Will they agree to this?”
If they didn’t, Fallon could very well hold them all accountable. The Trateri took honor seriously, and one way they did that was by holding a person to their promises, one way or another.
Lainey’s expression turned grim. “You leave them to me. I’ve been dealing with those old fools for a long time.”
Shea didn’t question it, leaving with Fallon while her mother and father remained on the balcony.
“What did you and my father discuss?” Shea asked when they were alone.
Fallon bent a happy look on her, a victorious curl to his lips. “He said he’d have the boomers delivered to us tomorrow.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A young girl’s scream split the night air, pulling Daere from a sound sleep. She jerked upright in her bed, fighting through sheets that had somehow managed to tangle around her like a knot of snakes.
Finally free, she stumbled to the corner of her tent, holding up a palm when two of Fallon’s Anateri burst into the room, swords held ready as they looked around with a fierce alertness.
She shook her head in a wordless signal. They relaxed, minutely, but didn’t put away their blades.
Daere was grateful she’d started sleeping in night clothes when Mist came to live with her, otherwise Fallon’s Anateri would have caught a significant glimpse of her bare golden skin since she preferred to sleep nude.
She rushed to Mist’s bed, pulling the little girl into her arms and murmuring soothing nothings. The girl wrapped around her with the strength of one of those creatures Shea had pointed out in the trees high above them. Her arms coiled tight around Daere and she tucked her face into Daere’s neck, her body shivering as she sobbed for breath.
“Hush, little one. You’re safe now,” Daere crooned, the smell of little girl wrapping around her and making that hole in her heart ache, just for a moment, before she firmly tucked the past back down. She then concentrated on giving the abused lostling the care and comfort she so desperately needed.
A little girl that Shea had rescued from being carried off by one of the many beasts that plagued this world, Mist had been subsequently adopted by the telroi. She was a quiet child and had not spoken until after Shea had assumed responsibility for her, and then only rarely.
