She'd be surprised if Van or Gawain didn't go out of their way to prove him wrong. It was exactly the type of stubbornness she'd come to appreciate in the Trateri. It might take them months to find their way back to Wayfarer’s Keep, but they’d succeed as long as they didn't run afoul of the mist.
"You could have left them out there." Roscoe sent a calculating look toward the clan leaders. "We all have to learn from our mistakes sometime."
Reece's stare was flat. "I know Shea taught you better than that. We have our oaths just like you do yours. Pathfinders don't abandon those we guide."
Ghost's lips tilted in a crooked smile. "Yet as you so often remind us—you're not Shea."
Reece scoffed. "I'm still a pathfinder. Just because I'm not willing to hold the hands of idiots to guide them out of their own stupidity doesn't make me any less of one. I obey the tenets of our calling."
Roscoe and Ghost remained unconvinced, their expressions showing their skepticism. Eva was on their side in this.
Reece's interpretation of what it meant to be a pathfinder was a tad special. Some might even say creative.
His cousin, Shea, led from the front. She charged into danger without another thought to ensure the safety of the rest, always taking on the greatest risks.
Reece was her opposite. He was more likely to send others as bait while he stuck to the shadows, waiting for the best moment to strike. That wasn't to say he'd sacrifice his bait, but the problem with bait was sometimes it got eaten.
Around him, that seemed to happen more often than not.
What's more, those he chose to act as his lures didn't always know what was happening until after the fact. When the dust had long settled and the adrenaline had finally abated.
It made him a dangerous man. One you could never be entirely sure was fully on your side.
Eva's pensive gaze landed on Caden. She knew loyalty. She'd seen what loyal men were capable of. When you were the focus of that level of determination and devoutness, it was like having a shiny, inexhaustible weapon at your side.
But when the weapon was aimed at you—there was nothing more terrifying.
The crux of the matter was that she liked Reece. He was irritable. Grumpy. Sometimes lazy. But always capable. Moreover, he'd saved them a time or two and had proved to be full of valuable information.
A shiver moved down her back at the thought of him turning against them.
"You were lucky he ran across you," Caden said, interrupting Eva's train of thought.
Fiona straightened. "What happened to this army you were chasing?"
"They were swallowed in the same mist we were. It was too bad," Van said, looking irritated. "I was itching for a little exercise."
"The same mist that brought you here?" Fiona asked with an intent expression.
There was a look on Roscoe and Ghost's faces that Eva recognized. It was the one they got before a hunt. Only this time, the things they wanted to hunt were humans.
Anticipation filled the air.
There was only one army the Trateri were interested in right now. The one that had sprung out of nowhere a few weeks back and had already claimed the life of one of their friends.
A woman by the name of Laurell.
Someone Eva had just begun a friendship with before everything fell apart.
Laurell gave her life for Eva. It was a debt she couldn't repay. Every person present, particularly Fiona, was itching for a little retribution.
And Van had just made that possible
"I know that look," Reece drawled, staring at Fiona. "Forget it. If the mist took them, they're long gone. Far from your reach."
"The mist spat this lot out. Could have done the same for the other side," Ghost suggested.
"Our people had a pathfinder," Reece said. "They didn't. The chances of them escaping the mist are so low I'm not going to bother to calculate them."
