He threw his saddlebag down and glared ather. She spread her hands. “It was either take the rope and saveyour life or let you get eaten. Are you really going to tell methat you’d prefer to be beetle food?” She jutted her jaw outstubbornly.
“Enough,” Eamon said, stepping between them.To her, “Where’s your jacket?”
“My what?
“Your jacket. The green one with yellowtrim.”
Ah, that. “It’s with the rest of my stuff ontop of the cliff.”
Buck swore. “Hell, he was running.”
Shea dropped her arms. Eamon’s sharp eyescaught the movement and his face darkened.
“I wasn’t running,” Shea defended. “I wasjust moving myself to a better position in case things wentbad.”
Buck looked skyward and shook his head. Eamonfolded his arms across his chest.
“Do you really think I would have come andsaved your asses if I’d planned on running?” She could tell by theshift in Buck’s stance that she had their attention and pressed heradvantage. “If I’d wanted to run, I could have just left you toyour fate. Nobody would have been the wiser, and I could have madeit half way home before anyone noticed. If they noticed atall.”
“Doesn’t matter now,” Eamon said, his voice adeep rumble. “He saved us. End of story. We need to find theothers.”
Buck pointed a finger, “We’ll be taking thisup later.”
Shea rolled her eyes. Yeah. Only if they wereall still alive.
The canyon walls narrowed to a slim slip ofspace that made it impossible to walk side by side, and Eamon’sbroad shoulders blocked Shea’s view of the path ahead. In severalspots, the men had to squeeze to fit through. Shea, being smaller,had an easier time of it, though at certain points she had tocontort her body too.
She glanced up at the sky. The gray of therock nearly blended into that of the thin strip of cloud that wasvisible, making it difficult to distinguish one from the other.
Shea stepped up onto a half buried boulder,checking the ground on the other side for any potential dangersbefore stepping down. Buck followed, placing one hand on the wallto steady himself as he looked over their heads.
So far there hadn’t been any sign of astruggle. No blood, no bodies or discarded items.
The three had agreed to maintain silence incase the shadow beetle was attracted to noise.
As they pushed further into the canyon, thepath became more and more impassable and they were forced downtwisting corridors and had to climb over fallen rocks. They passedseveral more burrows, which Shea made sure to point out to theother two. After the last one, Eamon’s face had gotten tight andhis eyes hard.
Why hadn’t the men turned around the momentit became clear the path would be impossible for the horses totravel?
Shea looked above them again, running herhands slowly down the ravine’s mottled gray walls. So far, no signof movement.
Buck stopped when she did, his hand going tothe pommel of his sword. It wasn’t the first time she’d gone still,thinking she had seen something, but no matter how many times shestopped to take a closer look at her surroundings, they didn’tcomplain.
Eamon held up a closed fist signaling a stop.Buck stepped back and to the side while Shea froze where shewas.
Eamon crouched and pointed at a shred ofcloth snagged on a rock about ten feet above the ravine’s floor.Movement on the opposite side caught Shea’s eye. There one momentand gone the next as if something had just slid out of sight.
She tapped Eamon on the shoulder and thenpointed to where she thought she saw movement. Together, theybacked out of sight very slowly until a boulder shielded them.
“Fuck.” Buck’s voice was low andstrained.
Eamon pressed his back against the wall andpeeked around it, trying to spot the shadow beetle.
“I can’t see it.” The skin around his eyeswas tight, and the knuckles of the hand clenched around his swordwere bleached white. “That means it hasn’t fed, right?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Buck hissed. “You said if it wasn’tblack it hadn’t fed.”
