Shea hoped to be gone by then.
It would be difficult to make theirrendezvous considering they’d been going in circles for twodays.
They only just now realized this.
Shea had figured it out part way through thefirst day.
The ravine they were in had sheer rock oneither side, allowing the growing argument between Vale and Gerardto echo. It would be better if the men kept their voices down.Sound traveled in narrow spaces like this. You never knew whatmight be waiting around the corner.
“We should go left.”
“No, the map clearly says right.”
“How can it say that when this canyon isn’teven on it?”
The subject of the argument was the littlepath branching in two directions in front of them. The cliffsrising on either side meant they would have to travel one byone.
The low hanging clouds had Shea slightlyconcerned about the possibility of a flash flood. They’d wadedthrough a shallow river part of the way to reach this point, andthe faint mark of a water line on the rocks didn’t allay thatfear.
Her horse sidestepped under her before shegot it back under control. She wasn’t quick enough because themovement startled the horse next to her.
Its rider gave her a shove. “I’ve seentoddlers with more control over their mounts than you, Daisy.”
Shea patted the horse’s neck and ignored thecomment. The Trateri considered it the height of insults to impugna man’s horsemanship. As the inept outsider, she’d heard variationsalong the theme for the past several days.
The insults didn’t really phase her. She’dnever been much of a horseman. Now if they’d insulted hernavigation skills, that’d be another matter.
What was more concerning was the underlyingtension she sensed in the small group. Though Lorn was the leader,most of the men looked to Eamon for their marching orders. Whenthere was a problem, he was the one they went to.
Lorn was a bully who got off on the power ofbeing in charge but didn’t have the skills to actually lead.Unfortunately, Lorn wasn’t blind so he knew the men preferredEamon’s leadership, which was why he took every chance to put Eamonin his place.
It was too bad. Eamon actually had a brain inthat big head of his.
As Eamon’s punishment, Lorn placed Vale incharge of the map. From what Shea could tell, Vale had rudimentarymap reading skills, which was why they had been led into this deathtrap of a canyon and were currently lost.
“We need to go down the left branch.” Vale’seyes narrowed into slits and his mouth lifted in a semi snarl.
The other man, his name was Gerard, but themen called him Buck, lifted one arm and pointed to the right. “Weshould go right.”
Shea tilted her head back and examined thecliff walls again, knowing she wouldn’t miss much. They’d beenarguing about which way to go for several minutes now.
Her horse sidestepped again and pawed theground. She looked around. All of the horses were acting uneasy,tossing their heads, shifting from foot to foot and whickeringsoftly.
Sometimes an animal being restless meant theywere just restless. But sometimes, sometimes it meant somethingelse entirely. That something was rarely good.
She examined the narrow canyon.
There were no sounds from wildlife except thefaint nickers of the horses. Could be all the arguing had scaredthe animals away. Or maybe something nearby had spooked them. Hereyes drifted up the rock walls, noting indentations where somethingbig had dragged alongside the sandstone, leaving long scrapes.
She guided her horse next to one of thecliffs and looked up. Several feet above her head, three parallelscratches nearly the length of her arm had been gouged into therock. She turned and looked at the other wall, looking for similarmarks. She didn’t see any, but that didn’t mean they weren’tthere.
“We should turn back,” she said softly. Thenlouder. “We need to turn back.”
The man who had scolded her earlier lookedover his shoulder and frowned. Eamon’s glare told her to shut it,while another man gave a disgusted sigh.
Shea’s spine straightened. She kicked thehorse in the side and guided it to Lorn. It was his team. Theultimate decision was his.
“We need to turn back.”
