Owen made a small sound. “We may have failed, but the others will not.”
Before Fallon could question him, Owen grabbed a dagger from his boot. Fallon lunged forward. The blade descended and Owen collapsed to the floor, looking up at them with eyes filled with mad determination. Then the light in them faded, leaving him staring at monsters only he could see.
Caden knelt next to him. “Such a pity. He might have had useful information.”
Patrick sighed. “It would have been nice to find out who else is part of this conspiracy.”
Fallon stared down at his dead foe. Something bothered him. He turned and looked over the rest. “He said the others would not fail.”
“What are you thinking?” Caden asked from where he still examined the body.
“How many pathfinders do you suspect of rebellion?” Fallon asked, his attention on Patrick.
“More than this,” Patrick said, his gaze assessing.
That’s what he was afraid of. Fallon moved for the path out of the cave. “Leave him. We need to get back to the Keep.”
If Fallon was right, he very much feared this wasn’t the only ambush their enemy had planned for the day.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Shea stepped lightly over the broken path as mist swirled around her, its hazy arms veiling the world. The group was quiet as they moved, the students intimidated as they looked around them with a deep unease. For most of them, this would only be the second time they’d walked through it.
They were like little ducklings following the mama duck, unwilling to stray lest they get lost. Shea could remember a time when she was one of them. Now, she was shepherding them and making sure they didn’t get separated from the rest of their fellow ducklings.
Reece led the group away from the path that would take them to where the rear party was still camped out. The place they were going was only accessible from the mist, existing in a little pocket that only a few knew about it.
Dane and his friend walked several feet parallel to their group, a rope similar to the one Shea had attached to her wrist around both their waists. They carried whompers like Dane had used when he’d saved her from the second bashe. Its bulky shape extended over their heads from where it was slung across their shoulders, making them look like misshapen monsters as the mist distorted their forms.
The journey wasn’t a long one and Shea relaxed into it, her senses alert as they walked, the sun a distant shadow whose warm light seemed far away.
Trenton and Braden plodded along in front of her. Braden stared around, assessing, taking stock, as if the mist was an enemy he intended to conquer.
Trenton was a little more relaxed, only concerning himself with where Shea was in relation to him at all times. She’d noticed he did that a lot, as if he needed to make sure he could reach her at a moment’s notice in case anything went down. She’d gotten used to it, though here, he was more likely to need her protection than the other way around.
Reece came to a stop ahead, his body alert as he peered into the fog. Shea scanned their surroundings, hazy and obscure as they might be.
They were close.
Reece had come to the same conclusion because he turned to their party and said, “Alright, my little ducklings, we have neared the end of this little trip. Once we’re out of the mist, you can unlatch yourselves from your leashes. I warn you against venturing too far from the group as this place is a mite unpredictable. We don’t need any of you lackwits going and getting lost. Do we, cousin?”
Shea gave him a half smile. “No, we do not.”
Reece’s lips twitched and he looked back at their charges. “I’ll finish the briefing on the other end. Just know you will be judged and graded for every move you make. Act wisely.”
There were several nods as the men and women with them took Reece’s words to heart.
He studied them with dark eyes. Judging his warning sufficient, he turned and continued forward, the mist thickening until it had the consistency of soup, enveloping his body in white.
There were murmurs of unease as, one by one, the students pushed through, following Reece into the unknown.
When it was Braden’s turn, he studied the white for a moment before moving forward with a resolute step.
Trenton gave Shea a vexed look that she returned with amusement before he too followed.
Shea closed her eyes and stepped forward, feeling a slight pulling sensation in her heart as she transitioned from the mist into a mountain glen, green and alive with wildflowers. Tall trees lined the outskirts of the glen. In the middle, a circle of stones had been embedded in the ground that had a fountain at their center, water bubbling up. Strange carved creatures frolicked around its edges.
The stone tiles had been arranged so that grooves carried water to and from the fountain in channels.
