Yara sips her cold tea and sighs. “I hate to poke holes in this plan, but have we considered that if the rebels are at the caves, that probably means they know we need to take the hjabats there? We could be walking into a trap.”
“You think they know about the meteor shower? I didn't get the impression that the CNM put stock in things like signs and omens,” Marjan says, and something in her tone makes Shay wonder whether she puts stock in them herself. “All the more reason to get there early, though, and during the day, so we can surprise them. And Shay said she only saw two of them. We already outnumber them by one. Sounds like good odds if you ask me.”
Shay looks at Yara, expecting her to issue a rebuttal. To point out that Shayseeingtwo rebels is not the same as therebeingtwo rebels. But she seems to restrain herself, perhaps concluding, as Shay has, that they don't have to rush in blindly. They can do a little surveillance once they're in the vicinity. Assess the situation. Because while Marjan may be wrong, she may also be right. And there's only one way to know.
Shay just keeps thinking about the boots, how they reminded her of the bootsMoulayswear. About how, while it makes sense that Naturalists on a mission would wear the same style of boots as another type of soldier, Shay has not been around many Naturalists. Not enough to pay attention to their footwear. Would they wear the same boots worn by Moulays? Or would theirs be different?
As they finish eating and clean up, Shay's breasts begin to ache. She wonders again how Najla is. How the brothers are coping with caring for a newborn. Asmuch as she has come to think of the bone-eaters as an oddly wholesome sort of family, she can't help questioning her own judgement in leaving a newborn human under their supervision.
The wave of pain that rips through her head with that last thought is the worst one yet. It's enough to make her forget what she was wondering about at all.
Shay summons the crooked-necked deer, who again agrees to be their forest guide.
While it's obvious the animals are able to exert some amount of autonomy, Shay is unsure how much of their compliance comes down to her hizoura magic being persuasive. She resolves to only ask for things that are necessary, until she can figure out something more conclusive.
More than once along the journey, Marjan orders them to stop. She peers into the forest at their backs and asserts that they are being followed. After a few rounds of this, with Yara dismissing whatever Marjan heard as justan animal, the wind, a falling branch, Marjan lapses into quiet. But her manner remains tense. Watchful. Her body language picking up where her words left off.
Upon arriving at their destination, the team decides to monitor the entrance of the cave. They find an abandoned barn nearby with a loft that offers an aerial view. Half the afternoon creeps by; no one comes or goes. Then Marjan suggests they enter the cave after sunset, while the rebels sleep.
“Or, hear me out,” Yara says, “we could go in now, because if they're using the cave as a base, they could be out scouting or gathering supplies during the daylight hours.”
Marjan looks at Shay. “What do you think?”
“I don't think we should go in without knowing what's waiting for us.” Shay peers at the cave below. Next to the entrance, there's a flash of white fur. The shaggy leaves of a clutch of blackberry bushes stir. “Can I see the field glasses?”
Shay stretches on her belly to get closer to the small window. She presses the cool brass of the eye cups to her face. The view from the device is clear and crisp, though incomparable to sharing vision with a bird. A goat emerges from the bushes and slips inside the cave, seeking shade from burgeoning sun of late sowing season.
Shay lowers the field glasses and looks at Marjan and Yara. She momentarily debates with herself the necessity of what she has in mind and decides the current mission requires using every available resource. “I have an idea.”
The goat is able to take Shay only as far as the ledge that overlooks the pillars. From this vantage point, she detects no sign of the rebels. Courtesy of an obliging spider, she scales the side of the rock face in a dizzying descent, gliding in leaps and bounds down a silk thread dragline. The spider turns out to have relatively poor eyesight, but its elongated legs can navigate tight spaces, and their vibration-sensitive touch aids in her tedious search around the base of the pillars and the floor and wall areas of the surrounding cavern.
Shay returns to herself once she has something to report. One second, she's inside a diminutive creature in a dark environment, and the next she's back in her fleshy body, the day around her deliriously bright. She flops back on a bale of brittle hay.
“What are you doing?” Marjan asks.
“Acclimating?”
“Did you see any sign of the Naturalists?” Yara asks.
Shay pushes herself up, smiling despite her disorientation. “No, but I found the bracelet. They must have assumed the cave was a safe place to leave it hidden.”
“We have to go now,” Marjan says urgently, grabbing her bow. “The Naturalists may return when the sun sets.”
She insists on one last perimeter check, again making sure no one has followed them, before they head into the caves.
For Yara and Marjan, it's their first time seeing the crystal stalagmites. They bask in the awe of them. While Shay is not immune to their splendor, she'squickly realizing that getting to the bottom of the cavern is not going to be such an easy feat in their human bodies.
She studies the steep drop, her stomach quivering. Footholds are scarce, the distances between them wide. Slick dampness coats every crevice. It would be a treacherous endeavor for even the most skilled of non-arachnids who had the forethought to bring along equipment suited to the task.
“Shay?” Marjan whispers, an uncharacteristic touch of wonder in her voice. “You're … glowing.”
Shay nods absently, assuming she's referring to the general radiance the pillars cast. Then she follows the path of Marjan's astonished gaze to where the hjabats are secured beneath her tunic. The pouch holding them glows with silver, red, and green light through the thin fabric. “Oh.”
She feels it then, a vibration over her skin, like the hjabats are humming with energy. Like they'rewaking up. “Oh.”
The two girls huddle close to Shay as she discreetly reaches beneath her tunic, something she's gotten proficient with thanks to Najla's lack of regard for time or place concerning her food supply. She unties the pouch and hands the necklace to Marjan, the earrings to Yara. She cradles the ring in her cupped hands. The pillars below flare brighter, as though fluorescent lava flows beneath their stony surface. Yara gasps as every crack and crevice of the cavern illuminates.
Then something more remarkable happens.
