Pathfinder's Way (35 page)

Who was this he? Whoever it was seemed to be
important enough to sabotage?

The voices moved away. Shea stayed where she
was, knowing if she followed her chances of being discovered spying
increased. It didn’t seem like the sort of conversation she wanted
to be caught listening to.

Shea walked away, taking the first path to
the right, taking another and another until she was well and truly
away from the trio.

What had she just heard? It was momentous,
whatever it was.

There was a plot against someone in the
Trateri ranks. Someone extremely important from the sound of
it.

The question now was, what should she do
about it? She wasn’t Trateri. Their politics didn’t affect her
since she still had plans to escape. For all she knew, these
plotters had a legitimate reason for their actions.

Shea frowned. No, that was unlikely since
Vincent was involved. That guy had greedy, bottom feeder written
all over him.

If she did tell someone, would they even
believe her?

One thing was clear; the map Vincent had
given her was absolutely worthless.

“Shane! Shane!” a voice called.

Shea turned to find Clark darting toward her
waving, a hank of brown hair flopping over his eyes as he stopped
in front of her.

“Thought that was you, but I wasn’t sure
since you didn’t respond when I called.”

“Sorry, I was lost in thought.” That and
occasionally she sometimes forgot people knew her as Shane as
opposed to Shea.

“No problem.” He waved her apology away. “You
just get back?”

“Yeah,” Shea’s voice was distracted as they
stepped to the side of the dirt road to give others right of way.
“Oh, last time we were out, we encountered something Lowlanders
call frostlings. They look like shadows and seem to fear fire. Not
sure how to kill them, though.”

His eyes lit up and he nodded as he made note
of her information. “That reminds me. You need to see this.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her in his
wake, winding through the tents as they left the more commonly used
paths and went down one of the smaller routes. She ducked under a
line securing the tent to a stake as she followed him.

“Is this going to take long? Because I still
need to gather some supplies and to talk to some people. Our team
just got another mission.”

“You’re on that too?”

She nodded. “Wait a minute. You’re
going?”

He looked back and grinned. “All the scouts
are. Someone important didn’t show up as scheduled and now every
scout in camp has orders to look for him. Don’t worry though,
they’re still discussing how the manhunt will be conducted. It’ll
probably be a couple hours before everything is settled.”

“Looks like we got back just in time,” Shea
said. This had to be part of the plot she overheard. It was on the
tip of her tongue to tell Clark, but she held back. She didn’t want
to get him involved in something that could be dangerous.

“Looks like.”

They zig zagged down another set of alleys
and across a wider road.

“Here we are.”

“Where is here?” Shea asked, stepping over a
saddle and apologizing as she bumped into one of the servant caste
carrying an armful of laundry. She got a glare for her pains as the
servant hurried off.

She looked around curiously, following Clark
over to an awning. Several lines anchored the canvas in place,
causing the edges to dip down with the tension. The only fabric
present was the roof and back wall.

Under it, someone had set up a large wooden
board and tacked small sheets of paper to it. They fluttered in a
stray breeze.

Shea stepped closer to examine the paper. A
rough sketch was drawn on each one and names were written under the
sketch. She reached out and flattened one sheet to read it
better.

Revenant: Compensates for poor eyesight with
highly developed sense of smell and hearing. Pickleberry juice can
be used to slip past its senses but fades fast and needs to be
replenished or they will pick up your scent. Tactics that have
worked in the past…

Shea removed her hand and bent to examine
another flyer, and when she was done with that another one. Clark
fidgeted anxiously next to her while she read one after
another.

“I thought the book of beasts was a great
idea, but then it occurred to me that other scouts could benefit
from the information or even have information of their own to
contribute.”

Shea’s face was unemotional and her thoughts
shuttered as she glanced over at him.

Not seeing the reaction he expected, Clark
continued with his explanation. “I asked a couple other scouts I
knew if they had anything they wanted to add to any of the entries.
Next thing I knew, they wanted books like mine. So we started
this.” He nodded at the board. “Any scout can come and update an
entry or add a new one. If they see information they need, they can
copy it into their own book.”

Shea looked back at the board. There were
over fifty flyers up there, each with its own list of observations.
Some were nearly black with the amount of information while others
only had one or two lines of description.

“Say something,” Clark burst out.

Shea stared at the board for a long moment.
His shoulders drooped.

Shea, for her part, didn’t know how to
respond. This was- It was unbelievable. Amazing and overwhelming.
She never would have thought to do something like this, and yet it
was exactly what she had always wanted. Better even, because
anybody who had something to share about their experience could.
They didn’t need a special rank or training. Instead, they relied
on actual encounters as their proof of necessity. This had the
potential to save lives.

Her voice slightly hoarse, she said, “I don’t
see the creature I encountered last time. Should I start a new
entry, or is there some way to check older ones?”

He looked up, his face hopeful as she smiled
slightly at him. If she hadn’t been pretending to be a boy, she
probably would be tearing up at this. Or perhaps not given how hard
she worked to make people see her as a pathfinder rather than a
woman.

“I’ll ask the board’s keeper and also get you
a piece of paper,” he said eagerly.

Shea waited as he rushed over to a thin man
with shoulder length, light brown hair tied back. He was Shea’s
age, maybe a little older, and his face was all angles and planes.
The man shot a glance at Shea and then picked up a thick leather
bound book before placing a crisp white piece of paper on top of
it.

He ambled over to Shea with a slight limp and
observed her, a keen intelligence behind his eyes.

“Shane, this is Charles. He’s the one who
manages all the entries. Otherwise, it would just be chaos.”

“So you’re the one who came up with this.”
His voice was raspy and low as if he’d damaged it at some point in
his life.

“This?” Shea looked at the paper board and
shook her head. “No. I never would have thought to do this. That’s
all Clark.”

Clark flushed at the praise. “But I never
would have thought of this, if it hadn’t been for that original
journal. This all started with you.”

Her eyes drifted back over the board. It may
have started with her, but it hadn’t ended there.

“Let’s see if we can find your creature,”
Charles said. “What did it look like?”

Shea described the frostling while he flipped
through entries, shaking his head the entire time.

“Are you sure it was a shadow?” he asked.
“Because that just doesn’t sound right.”

“I’m sure.”

“Maybe your mind just made this shadow
creature up to explain what happened.”

“I know what I saw,” Shea said firmly. She
wasn’t surprised he was having a hard time believing her. Even she
couldn’t believe it. Needless to say, she left out the part where
it had spoken to her. Well, she thought it had spoken to her. She
still wasn’t sure about that. Sentience hadn’t been in any of the
stories.

“If Shane says he saw it, then he saw it,”
Clark said, folding his arms and glaring down at Charles.

Charles sighed and gave him a slightly put
upon look. Shea snorted, covering her mouth quickly to keep the
rest of the laughter in. She had seen that look before when she was
younger, but usually it had been aimed at her.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Charles
told her stiffly when she finally stopped laughing. “It’s just that
I want to be sure before we put it up there. We don’t want
unfounded superstition being put into the scouts’ heads. They have
enough of that.”

“I understand and agree, and if I had time,
I’d find some of the men who were there to corroborate my
story.”

He held up a hand. “No need. If you say it
happened, I believe you. I’m sure you know the difference between
myth and fact.”

She took the piece of paper and a quill
already dipped in ink. She set the paper on one of the small tables
and bent to sketch what she’d seen. Several minutes later, she
lifted her hand and rubbed her aching wrist. She cocked her head
and read over what she had written. There wasn’t a lot there, and
she wished there had been more to put in the description but the
encounter had been brief. There would have been too much
supposition in if she had added any more. Perhaps someone else
would be able to fill in the details.

When she was finished, Charles tacked it onto
the board.

“What’s this?” a voice asked at their
backs.

Shea went ramrod straight, cursing her luck.
Charles and Clark spun and snapped to immediate attention, turning
from the friendly men she knew into hard faced soldiers. Shea was
slower to turn.

Darius squinted past them at the board.
Wanting a better look, he came closer, pausing by Shea as he
straightened one flyer to read it.

“It’s a record of beast encounters,” an old
man said, stepping into the shade. His back was slightly hunched
with age, and his white hair was braided into a tail at the back of
his neck. Despite the seeming frailty of his body, the strength of
his personality along with a shrewd intelligence blazed from his
eyes. “From what my men have told me, when scouts return after an
encounter with a beast they record its strengths and weaknesses so
others may know them.”

Darius had turned to listen, but now he
turned back to the board with a renewed purpose. “That’s
brilliant.”

“It works too,” the old man said. “Haven’t
you wondered why there was drop in Horse Clan casualties over the
past few weeks?”

“This is why?”

The old man nodded. “It hasn’t spread to the
other clans yet, but it seems to be working.”

Darius turned to the three of them. Unlike
the last time she had seen him, there was only a small spark of the
continual good humor he seemed to carry. Today, he seemed tired and
worn. Worry had carved deep grooves around his eyes and mouth,
though he tried to insert a bit of his old self into his voice when
he asked. “Whose idea was this?”

“It was his, sir.”

Shea wanted to punch Clark when he nodded at
her. Suddenly, she found herself the focus of the two men. One of
whom had met her before, as a woman, and the other of which seemed
much sharper than she would have liked.

“Only the beginning, sir,” Shea said quickly
deepening her voice as much as she dared without drawing attention
to herself. She needed to get out from under their notice. “The
rest of it was his.”

Clark puffed up and stood straighter, if that
was possible, as Darius’s focus swung to him.

Shea stepped back, putting a little more
space between her and them. The old man’s eyes flicked to her, and
she froze as he studied her with a thoughtful expression. She
dropped her eyes quickly from his, staring at the ground before
peeking back up. She sighed in relief to find he was no longer
watching her, giving his shrewd attention to the board behind her
instead.

Clark was explaining the concept behind the
board.

Both Clark and Charles seemed intent on
impressing Darius, taking turns in the explanation while Darius
looked on thoughtfully.

Now would be the time to tell someone what
she’d heard. Darius was pretty high up in the army, and she didn’t
have to worry about involving him in something dangerous. He
probably even knew the missing person.

Telling him would expose her to scrutiny
though, which was dangerous given her secrets. Right now people
thought she was a boy, but that was mostly because they were used
to thinking of her that way. Revealing a plot of this magnitude
would automatically guarantee Darius would take a closer look at
her.

It might be selfish, but Shea didn’t want to
take the chance. She’d keep her council for now and see if there
was a better time to advance what she’d learn. She just had to hope
her silence didn’t cost somebody their life.

“And this all sprang from your journal?”
Darius asked her.

All eyes swung to her.

“Ah, yes.”

“That’s impressive.”

Her tongue felt thick as she said, “Thank
you.”

“Very impressive,” Darius said, idly looking
over the board one last time. He turned to leave. “I won’t keep you
from your assignments. I pray you meet with success on your
journey.”

Clark and Charles made the proper parting
remarks, and Shea hurried to join in as Darius and his companion
departed. They moved slowly, meandering down the road deep in
conversation. Darius shortened his stride, keeping to his friend’s
pace as he bent his head toward the man, listening intently.

“Can you believe Darius Lightheart, the
Warlord’s right hand man, complemented our project? Even the head
of Horse Clan knows about us.” Clark slapped Shea on the shoulder,
almost bouncing on his toes from excitement. Even Charles looked
slightly amazed, his eyes wide and disbelieving as if this had been
some wild hallucination.