With a few coughs and shudders, the group took their first tentative steps inside the cave. The ground was wet, and each step sank into the dirt with apop. The first ten feet were the most disturbing, the ceiling only a few inches above Alex’s head while the others had to crouch to fit. The musty smell of rotting vegetation was thick in their noses, and their eyes were reluctant to give up the light of day. But soon the passageway opened at least ten feet high, allowing them to wave their torches around freely. The cave constricted and grew like a snake digesting a meal, but even the narrowest parts could fit the men side by side. Water seeped through the cracks in the walls. In the spring, melting snow would create a stream that would thrash about through the caves, but at the moment it was no more than a trickle.
Alex led them, her eyes scanning every detail. The ground spoke of travel, with no distinguishable footprints but plenty of slips and ridges that wouldn’t form naturally. The trail was faint, but it was there. Every ominous fork in the road tested her expertise, and she held her breath until she could confirm the trail again. As they moved further, the markings began to speak of panic. Clumsy boot prints, broken rock, every blemish told its own story, and Alex began to piece it all together the further they travelled.
She bent to observe a sharp edge of broken rock and made a quick decision about which way to continue. Meanwhile, Philippe’s presence behind her was as thick as the stone around them. It could have unnerved her, but in fact, it made her feel secure. They were a good team, she thought. A strong team. And though she could never be many things to him, she was happy to know she had this opportunity to be his guide.
She slid her hand along the glistening cave wall and indicated to him a low stalactite up ahead with her torch. She felt him pass the information to the other men, and she moved her torch to the side, letting the shadows shroud her face. Even in this darkness, she felt the incessant glow that he caused. It burned so brightly inside her that she wondered if it was the torches or she herself lighting the way. The moment she and Philippe had been in the hot springs had been a revelation. He still wanted her. And it thrilled her. It absolutely thrilled her.
Emily, ironically, had told her to enjoy Philippe and what he had to offer. And, really, why shouldn’t she? Even if she never had another lover, shouldn’t she experience the act of sex at least once? Damn how she wished she could just sleep with that man. Her body reacted insolently every time he was near. Even at that moment, with dense earth around them and uncertainty in the air, his closeness caused delicious tension to pulse through her. And though he’d kept every promise he’d made at the beginning of the journey, she felt the gentle pressure he was applying. He knew what he was doing; she was the one who didn’t know the rules of this game. She felt outmatched. Underprepared. Dangerously inexperienced.
She breathed a heavy sigh. She knew it was only fantasy. With every surge of longing and affection she felt for him, she felt a persistent throb of regret for an affair that she could never let happen. Indulging in him would undercut her dreams of moving back to Chevalerie. It would mean that she hadn’t gotten stronger or smarter or better after all this time. She wouldn’tdeserve to be in Chevalerie any more than she did when she had shamed herself the first time. Plus, being that close and knowing his comings and goings—what he was doing, who he was with—she couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t humiliate herself again. She had to face it. He would always make her weak.
She followed the walls and ridges of the cave intently. Something caught her eye and interrupted her thoughts. She stopped, holding up her hand to signal the rest of her part. “Wait,” she whispered. She crouched forward to examine a marking in the stone. It was just below her waist and tucked into a recess. If she hadn’t been scanning the cave walls, she would have missed it. Three deep cuts, a few centimeters long, ran parallel to each other, creating white lines on the black stone. She ran her fingers over them. “This means something,” she said. “But I don’t know what.”
“A trap?” Philippe asked, scanning up ahead.
She turned to him, working it out in her head. “They must have known we were coming.”
They stared at each other for a moment in the firelight. Alex spun the ramifications in her mind, and Philippe looked to be doing the same, his eyes filled with contemplation. The answer was there. They just had to work it out.
“Why a trap so deep? Why not at the entrance?” he asked.
“They were rushed,” she said. “The trail shows they were trying to get away.”
“Then it’s not a trap,” he said, still watching her.
“It’s a sign,” she replied, catching his meaning. “Something is hidden.”
“Something that can identify them,” he said.
“That they want to come back for later. After we’ve left.”
“So they’ve already gone,” he said, glaring into the dark.
The men had been watching the two of them agog, heads swinging back and forth. Alex could have laughed at their expressions if she hadn’t been so frustrated by the conclusion she had just reached with Philippe.
“Step carefully, men,” Philippe said. “We have to figure out what this is.”
No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than Sébastien stepped forward, hit a loose rock on the ground and tumbled forward. He fell against an indentation in the wall opposite the markings, releasing a sudden cascade of stones that poured out of the crevice like an angry river. Beforeshe knew what was happening, Philippe had grabbed her by the back of the shirt and thrown her out of the way. Alex stumbled back, crashing to the ground, while the rocks pelted the rest of the men.
Dirt and debris filled their eyes and lungs while glowing torches gave no more light than embers in the sand. The men, full of fresh cuts and bruises, waved through the heavy air and hurriedly pulled Sébastien from the rubble. He grimaced, and closer inspection revealed a nasty gash across his middle.
“I can go forward,” he said to Philippe through a wince.
Philippe pressed against the blood while Laurent ripped a cloth to tie off the wound.
“Take a second and see how you feel,” Philippe said.
The dust was settling by then, and they could see now what the rocks had been hiding. A shallow cavern had been sealed up, but the avalanche had opened it. Philippe stepped forward, kicking several rocks aside. By his torchlight, Alex could see the loot, tokens they had acquired in their ransacks. Copper pots, farm tools, a few handfuls of coins. Somewhat valuable items, but certainly not enough riches to warrant the attacks. There was more to the attacks than the plunder.
“Such a strange assortment.” Philippe waved the torch and leaned towards a large silver platter, revealing the markings of Peillon. He ran his hands over it, and Alex knew he was thinking hard.
“Are we going to continue forward?” asked Laurent.
“Yes,” said Philippe. “But they’re not here.”
“How do you know?” asked Maurice.
“This is just a hasty attempt to hide their presence,” Philippe responded. “Or perhaps to slow us down.” He combed through the pile of rocks then picked one up. He pelted it down the corridor. “Merde!” he said as it clattered in the dark.
