The trail—if itwasa trail—degenerated to no more than a faint line scuffed in increasingly rocky ground. The trees thinned out, cottonwoods and maples giving way to elegant aspens and tall, austere pines. Buck led the way without hesitation, his steady stride never altering no matter how rough and uneven the ground.
This is where he belongs, Honey realized, watching his back. There was an easiness to the way he carried himself; a slight loosening of that constant tension. Out here, in the woods, all that coiled energy found an outlet. A purpose.
After half an hour of relentless uphill hike, even Archie was starting to flag. Honey found herself having to keep rounding up stragglers, chivvying the kids along. She did her best to distract the kids from their aching legs by pointing out wildflowers and getting them to try to identify bird calls.
Ignatius, of course, was having none of it. All her attempts to get him to appreciate the surroundings were met with withering eye-rolls and sulky grunts. For someone still a few years off puberty, Honey reflected, he made an excellent teenager.
“Come on, Ignatius,” she called out, forcing a chipper, upbeat tone despite the burn in her own thighs. “You’re falling behind again.”
He shot her a death glare as he struggled up the trail. Honey didn’t think his slow pace wasentirelydue to lack of enthusiasm. He was clearly finding the hike a lot harder than the rest of the kids.
Secretly, Honey sympathized. There was only so long she could keep this up herself. She hoped Buck remembered she didn’t actually have shifter levels of strength and endurance.
Ignatius dragged himself the last few feet to rejoin the group. He stopped at Honey’s side, chest heaving for breath. “How much longer are we supposed to endure this forced march?”
“I’m getting a bit tired too,” Finley said, although he wasn’t looking nearly as sweaty as the sullen dragon shifter. “Can we take a break, Honey?”
“I think that would be a good idea.” Honey raised her voice, calling ahead. “Buck! Isn’t it time for a rest?”
He stopped, turning to survey the campers. “What, getting tired already?”
“No sir!” Beth said instantly, but she was in a minority of one. A chorus of general complaints rose from the group.
“Can we have a snack? I’m soooooo huuuungry.”
“Honeeeeey, Archie made me step in something gross and I can’t get it off my shoooooe.”
“My pants are too hot and my socks are too itchy and a bug bit me and I’mbooooooored!”
Buck heaved an expressive sigh. “Fine. We’ll rest here for a while, then head back.” As he came back down, he added, casually, addressing the words over the tops of the kids’ heads to Honey alone, “See? I told you it would be too far.”
Archie, who’d just flopped to the ground with a groan of relief, lifted his head again. “What would be too far?”
Buck unscrewed the lid of a canteen, taking a long, unhurried swallow of water. “Nothing.”
Honey suppressed a grin, catching on. She turned to the kids, assembling an expression of forced cheer, as though covering some disappointment.
“Don’t worry,” she told them all. “We’ve got all summer. We can come back another time.”
The effect on the kids was electric. Though they’d all been expressing complete exhaustion a second ago, now they popped up like prairie dogs.
“Come back where?”
“Is it something cool?”
“Are we nearly there?”
“I wanna gonow!”
“Wonderful.” Buck rolled his eyes at her, though she could see the gleam in those dark depths. “And now you’ve got them all riled up. This is exactly why I told you not to tell them, Honey.”
“Tell uswhat?!”
“You idiots,” Ignatius said. He looked around at his fellow campers. “Can’t you see what they’re doing? It’s just reverse psychology. They’re trying to trick us into walking further.”
Buck didn’t so much as bat an eye. “Yep. Got it in one. Absolutely nothing to see at the top of that ridge.”
“Which ridge?” Flora shaded her eyes. “That ridge? That one right there, up ahead?”
