“I wonder if he thinks there are animals in the Keep that need killing,” Caden said by Fallon’s shoulder.
Fallon gave his First a look of irritation before following Shea’s father, again questioning why he was here. There were many things to do. Devoting precious time to this was not how he wanted to spend his afternoon.
Patrick led them into the belly of the Keep, and Fallon found himself paying closer attention, his suspicions roused when they headed away from the outside and any wilderness where they could hunt.
He’d expected to gather weapons and then leave the Keep before trying to track down some infernal creature in a bonding ritual. That’s not what he received.
Shea’s father headed toward the rear of the Keep, where it had been carved into the cliff behind it, a great monolith that cradled the keep in its stone arms.
It was the perfect place for an ambush—the corridors narrow and cramped. They were isolated from the rest of the Keep. No one to interfere or know what had happened.
Fallon was a great warrior, but he was also a man. Come at him with enough opponents and even he could be overwhelmed. He’d take down a considerable number of his adversaries before he fell, but he’d still be dead.
Caden gave him a grim look, his thoughts running down similar tangents, before resting one hand on the pommel of his sword. Both men moved through the corridors with an alert wariness.
Soon, they began to climb, some of the route forcing them to scale short stretches of rock interspersed with sharp inclines and the occasional rudimentary stair.
“Almost there,” Patrick called.
Caden muscled his way up to where Fallon balanced on a thin ledge. “Where is he taking us?”
Fallon didn’t know. They’d climbed a good way. Sweat made his shirt cling to his back despite the damp chill that seemed to permeate this place.
Shea’s father disappeared through a hole in the top of the narrow space they’d been working their way through.
“He wasn’t lying,” Fallon said. “Look alive. Whatever is coming will probably happen in the next few minutes.”
Caden shifted, grunting as he found a better spot on the wall that allowed him to take some weight off his arms. “I should go first.”
Fallon looked up, calculating their best odds of survival.
“Fallon, this is what I’m here for,” Caden said when there was no response.
“I can’t afford to show weakness,” Fallon replied. He headed up the way Shea’s father had gone before Caden could finish arguing with him.
Caden’s face turned frustrated as he grumbled, “There’d better be something to kill when we get up there.”
Grim amusement filtered through Fallon. It was a sentiment he wholeheartedly agreed with.
He reached the opening and paused, listening for sound on the other side. There was only the whistle of wind and the slight sounds of someone moving around. He didn’t detect more than one person, no sense that someone was waiting just on the other side, no held breath or small sound to announce their presence.
Fallon took the chance and pushed through the small space, using the wooden ladder that had been secured to the stone. He pulled himself up, his movements slow and cautious.
No blow came.
His eyes adjusted to the faint light and he looked around, studying the long cave he found himself in.
“What is this place?” Fallon found himself asking.
Long and narrow, there looked to be some type of tracks anchored into the rock on the ground.
“We call it the Reaches,” Patrick said, busying himself over in the corner. “It’s natural, not man-made.”
“You sure about that?” Fallon asked, looking back at the tracks on the ground.
Patrick looked behind him, his face amused. “Those who came before us were quite good at using their surroundings to their fullest capabilities. It might have been carved over time by nature, but our predecessors found other uses for this place.”
Fallon walked to the edge of the cave, ignoring the wind that buffeted him as he looked out over the Keep. From this high, he could see over the mist to the mountain valley they had come through.
