Lachlan threw up both hands to either side, mock shivering. “Ooh, scary. Don’t shoot.”
I made a face, snorting. “Like I scared you.”
“Damn near wet myself,” he parried cheerfully, making his way down. Oh, he had Seiji with him. “Just finished the grand tour. Why do you Yanks call it a nickel tour, anyway?”
“Ask Google, not me.”
The funny prostitutes who had cracked me up earlier let out a whistle of admiration. I glanced back and found them posing for Lachlan like he was prime meat.
Lachlan caught it, too, and pointed at himself as if to sayme?
The girls responded by catcalling him.
His face screwed up in a way that suggested he was trying not to laugh. “Sorry, lassies, not interested in a ghostly tumble.”
They made booing noises but did keep their distance.
Lachlan was apparently too handsome and charming for his own good, if he even had ghosts flirting with him. I deliberately put my back to them, ignoring any more commentary. “What do you think, Seiji?”
Seiji looked more bristly than he had yesterday. I meant that in an armament way. He wore both katana and wakizashi, had daggers strapped to both thighs, and had this messenger bag like a fanny pack at his back, which held who knew what. He also wore this expression I couldn’t quite read. It seemed pensive, but who knew?
“This is a problematic area,” he answered bluntly. He paused at the last step, which put us almost at eye level. “In fact, I am not sure which to tackle first. Even this riverbank is not good.”
“So on a scale of one to ten, one being this will take me a week, ten being fuck my life, where do we sit?”
Seiji snorted a little at the scale. “Sanity is a sliding scale, or so I’ve found.”
With one eye on his face, Lachlan drawled, “In other words, depends on which nook and cranny we’re talking about?”
“You do interpret me well.” Seiji cast him a quick smile, barely a curve of the lips. “This riverbank, for instance, I would rate at a solid five. Only because the area’s energy has locked down.”
“Oh.” I surveyed the area again with more understanding. “That locker effect again?”
“Indeed. The area is prone to it.”
I heard the steady crunch of gravel under foot and tracked Gwyn as she approached. She offered a water bottle, which I took, and I was happy to see she had her own about half drunk.
“Break?” I asked.
“Yeah, Mack said to take a thirty-minute breather.”
Seiji looked at her carefully, and I could see the wheels turning in his eyes. “Gwyn, I know you’re a new apprentice, but how new?”
“Oh, uh…” She blinked and looked abruptly shy, eyes not quite meeting anyone’s. “I met them here, so…”
“A week,” I completed with a shrug.
I could see the realization in his eyes. “Oh, you’reverynew. Yes, please pace yourself.”
Gwyn’s shyness eased and she indicated Mack working behind her. “He said the same thing. Like, my ability is like a muscle I have to train?”
“Aye, he’s correct,” Lachlan confirmed. His eyes were sweeping the area, though, his attention mostly somewhere else. “You need to gradually work your way up. No shame there. When I first started, I couldn’t work for more than five minutes.”
“Age helps with stamina.” Seiji still studied Gwyn with a slight pull of his eyebrows. “But my concern is not your stamina. You are under good protections. I wish to boost them.”
“Y’know, the way you two are looking around is super cagey. I don’t like it.” Lachlan kept gripping his sword hilt, too, like he was ready to do a quick draw. “Did something else in those mines spook you?”
They glanced at each other before both nodded apologetically. Fuck. I braced myself even as I wearily asked, “Using my earlier scale of one to ten, how bad and what is it?”
