Chirron's head tilted as a thoughtful look crossed his face. "If I had to wager a guess, I'd say it's because the cicadas have a long dormancy state. In the Outlands we have a similar species who can sleep for twenty years before reappearing. They are stupid creatures only capable of procreating and consuming everything in their path."
"Like these," Eva said slowly.
As reasonable as the explanation was, something felt off.
According to gossip, the pathfinders had records going back all the way to the cataclysm. No matter how long their dormancy state, the pathfinders should have encountered them at some point.
Unless—they weren't native to this part of the Broken Lands.
At which point, it begged the question of how they got here—and whether someone else had a hand in their arrival.
fifteen
"Howmuchlongerdoyou think it'll be before they break?" Van asked, arms behind his head as he lay in the grass, staring at the sky.
Caden didn't pause in his whittling as he carved tiny grooves into the surface of the wood figurine he held. He blew the wood shavings away before smoothing one finger along the marks he'd made.
The present he'd started carving to keep himself from descending into a very dark place, one where violence and chaos existed side by side, was coming along nicely.
The crafty expression of the fire fox was taking shape, his tails curled over his shoulder as he grinned up at Caden.
Eva would like it, Caden thought. If she woke up, that is.
He shot a look at the healer's tent a short distance away, the reason behind his stark state of mind.
After Eva's brief rise to consciousness, Caden had called a halt, wanting Chirron to take a look at her again.
For that reason, the tent was the first to go up.
What Caden hadn't expected was to be barred from its interior, the healer citing that he didn't need testosterone destroying his hard work.
Waiting was difficult.
Impatience and the need for action thrummed just below Caden's skin, calling out to him. Urging him toward an unwise course of action.
Preferably one that involved the spilling of innards and the death of others.
Caden wasn't particularly sure he cared who might be his victim.
Hence, his whittling.
"What's the matter? Bored?" Gawain taunted.
Van ignored the other man, his head turning so he could glance at the door of the tent, his restlessness only a little less marked than Caden's.
Try as he might, Van couldn't hide how antsy Chirron's absence made him.
It was a feeling echoed in many of the Trateri, Caden had noticed. A pall hung over the camp, sucking the enthusiasm out of the warriors and making them tense and on edge.
It was in their voices when they spoke. A level of strain Caden usually only heard on the cusp of a big battle.
Everyone was aware of how dire their situation was. The fact that the cicada swarm was the reason they'd abandoned their valley base.
Unfortunately for them, Caden wasn't in the right state of mind to mediate any conflicts.
A fact Jane and Drake were aware of, moving to head off most at the pass before they could escalate.
Caden's knife slipped as he was adding detail to the fire fox's eye, causing a long, jagged line that looked like a scar.
