Pathfinder's Way (38 page)

“Stay awake,” she ordered. “I can’t carry you
so you’ll have to walk out yourself.”

He mumbled something indistinctly. Seeing
that he was struggling to stay awake, she moved on to the other
two. The first one’s form was small and misshapen. Even with the
poor light she could tell pieces of him were missing, and there
were black stains on the ground near his body. He was dead or
likely wished he was if he was still conscious. Still, she reached
out and felt his neck, flinching at the waxy feel of cold flesh
under her fingers.

Dead. Poor guy. At least he wouldn’t have
felt it.

The next man seemed to have all his body
parts, but it was difficult to tell with the coating of white that
shone with a star like beauty in the moonlight. The skin on his
neck was warm, and she let out a gratified sigh when she found the
pulse pumping strong against her fingers.

He groaned and struggled to move his
arms.

“Sir, you need to wake up.”

When he didn’t respond, she felt her spirits
sink. Eamon had been clear what he wanted her to do if anyone was
unconscious when things got started. Biting her lip, she looked
between him and Fallon and shrugged. If it worked for one maybe it
would work for the other.

A crack filled the air and her hand stung
from the slap, but besides a slight stirring and another groan he
was silent. She slapped him again. He roused a little only to sink
back into his bonds. What she wouldn’t give for some water right
now.

Third time was the charm. She let her hand
fly and then held her breath.

“Will you please stop hitting me?” a groggy
voice asked.

“He did that to me too,” Fallon said
tiredly.

“Guess he’s got balls then,” the stranger
said as his eyes drifted shut.

Shea stepped forward, drawing her hand back.
“Oh, no you don’t. Stay awake. There’s no way I’m carrying your
ass.”

“Do not hit me again,” the man warned.

Shane snorted. His warning lacked oomph.

“Don’t fall asleep, and I won’t have to.”

“Balls.”

Not really. Just desperation.

“What happened?” Fallon asked, his voice
sounding fatigued.

“You wandered into a spinner’s nest.”

“That’s not good,” the stranger said.

No, it wasn’t.

“What about Jason?”

“Who?” Shea asked, looking over at the dead
man. She didn’t want to be the one to tell them their friend was
dead. Nor did she want to have to cut him out of his web if they
insisted on bringing his body with them.

“There was a third man,” Fallon told her.

She held her silence, wondering if she should
just say she hadn’t seen him or if that would necessitate a search.
Should she tell them he was dead or wait until they were safe?

Fallon shut his eyes as he said, “He’s dead,
isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

He got quiet after that. Shea left him to his
thoughts. She edged forward, trying to see out of the webs while
listening for anything that suggested Eamon had made his move.
Enough time had passed for him to get into position and set up. Had
he started already? Perhaps he had and his distraction was being
wasted while she hesitated.

On the other hand, if she started cutting
them down too soon, the spinners would descend on her and any
action he took would be pointless. She wished they had arranged
some signal so she could be sure.

As she waffled, a bright red light shot into
the sky followed by a high pitched whistle. The red briefly cast
the canyon into sharp relief showing dark blotches high up on some
of the walls and closer than Shea would like on the ground. A high
screech echoed off the cliffs, and the blotches burst into
movement, heading towards the light’s origin.

Shea drew her blade, moving to Fallon first.
She sawed furiously at the strands holding him, careful not to
touch any of the threads with her bare hands. Falling into a
euphoric stupor wouldn’t help any of them at this point.

Getting one of his hands free she shoved a
spare knife at him, directing him to cut himself free before
heading for the stranger. The web strands were thicker around him,
nearly cocooning him from the neck down. There might not be enough
time to cut through everything before whatever distraction Eamon
had created wore off.

She hacked at the strands above him with a
single-minded desperation. Counting on the surge of adrenaline to
counter the effects of the web, she used her other hand to pull
threads away. He fought and struggled against the thread binding
him, nearly driving his skin onto her blade a few times.

Only a quarter of the web had been cut away
and already she could hear the enraged screams as the spinners
realized their prey was escaping.

She cut faster, tugging and pulling, as a
sweet euphoria stole through her veins making her head feel light
and disconnected. Still, she hacked and cut, nearly jumping out of
her skin as hands appeared before her to help pull the last
resisting threads from the stranger’s body.

She blinked dumbly up at Fallon as he shoved
his shoulder under his friend’s arm and half dragged him out of the
web. The stranger’s lower body was still covered in the white
strands, but he was no longer chained in place.

All around them spinners screeched in anger
and pain.

Free at last, Shea glanced down the canyon,
noticing the orange light bouncing off the walls as web after web
caught fire. Larger than life shadows were cast against rock as
spinners fought to smother the flames with anything they could.
More than one cast their own bodies onto the flame. Their black
bodies caught fire, and they fell from their webs, the canyon’s
walls reverberating with their death screams.

It was a tension fraught run from the
spinner’s lair. Shea was still feeling the effects of the webs and
knew the other two were probably dealing with a lot more. Her
fingers felt thick and her legs heavy. She was overcome with the
urge to just stop, lie down, and sleep.

Her mouth opened in a jaw-cracking yawn, and
she focused grimly on the task at hand- setting one foot in front
of another until they reached safety.

It was easy to find the horses, for which
Shea was grateful. She wasn’t too confident about being able to
find her way in anything but a semi straight line at this
point.

Once there, she stared stupidly at the beasts
and then at her companions. There were three of them and only two
horses. How were they supposed to ride if there were only two?

Maybe two of them could ride and the third
person could run alongside. Then they could trade off after a few
minutes. Would it be possible for a half a horse to carry one
person?

Shea was deep into trying to figure this
problem out when Eamon came sliding down the canyon’s sloped
wall.

Great, now there were four people and only
two horses.

“Shane, what are you doing? We have to get
out of here,” Eamon said, moving to his horse and preparing to
mount.

“But there are only two.”

“What?”

“Two horses, four of us. The math doesn’t add
up,” Shea told him.

“So two people to a horse,” he said, stress
making his voice tight and tone sarcastic.

She blinked at the horses again and then at
the other two who looked even more befuddled then her. Oh. Why
hadn’t she thought of that?

“Tonight, Shane. Before those things catch
up.”

Shea nodded, forgetting it might be difficult
to see her in the dark and then kept nodding until she reached up
and grabbed both sides of her head to make it stop.

“Fallon’s with you.” Eamon mounted and helped
the stranger up behind him.

Shea turned to look at Fallon’s dim figure.
“But I don’t want to ride with him.”

“I don’t care,” Eamon said sounding angry.
“What’s the matter with you?”

“He must have touched the webs,” Fallon
answered for her. “It can make acting normal difficult.”

“We don’t have time for this. Get on the
horse, Shane.”

Shea crossed her arms over her chest and
glared mutinously up at him. Suddenly, it seemed very important
that she get her way, and she wasn’t moving one inch until she
did.

“Shane,” Eamon warned.

Fallon abruptly sat down before falling
backwards as he passed out. It was so unexpected that Shea started
giggling.

“Son of a bitch.” Eamon’s words were
heartfelt as he carefully dismounted, doing his best not to disturb
his passenger. “Shane, I swear to all the gods that if you don’t
stop giving me trouble, I will beat the living shit out of you once
we’re safe.”

Even in Shea’s slightly drugged state, she
knew he meant what he said.

“Fine.”

She helped him get Fallon up so he was laying
facedown over the horse’s back before climbing up after him.

When a few rocks skated down the hill next to
them, the party halted abruptly. With a flick of his fingers, Eamon
signaled Shea to gain some distance from him while he steered his
horse further down the path.

She waited, her hands tense on the reins,
prepared to take off at a moment’s notice. Fallon, a still presence
before her, hadn’t stirred since they placed him face down over the
horse.

Small pebbles skittered down a few feet
behind Eamon, and they both looked up. The moonlight shone off the
exposed rock in the near vertical slope. While the hill was too
steep for the horses, it was manageable for people or beasts. The
names of every nocturnal beast that favored these environments ran
through Shea’s mind— she didn’t want to encounter any on a night
like this.

Eamon circled around and drew his sword, his
eyes trained on a dim figure sliding down in a hail of dirt and
rock.

Sensing their riders’ mood, the horses were
quiet and motionless as if they too waited for the next shoe to
drop.

Eamon waited until the two men were midway
down before threatening in a low growl, “Stop where you are, or
we’ll open a few extra holes in you.”

One of the men looked down, his expression
lost in the dark. “Eamon?”

“Buck?” Eamon’s voice was puzzled but
pleased. “What are you doing here?”

Buck and Phillip made it the rest of the way
down the slope, sliding the last few feet. Safely on the ground,
Buck said, “We saw the flare and figured you had found the package.
Thought you might need help, so here we are.”

He waited, obviously hoping they would fill
him in on what they had discovered, but Eamon kept his council,
telling him instead, “We need to head back to camp. Are your horses
close? Otherwise you’ll have to follow when you can.”

If Buck was disappointed Eamon didn’t answer
his unspoken question, he didn’t show it. He pointed back up the
slope and said, “We left them up there. It shouldn’t be too hard to
retrieve them and then meet you on the trail.”

“Do that. Catch up when you can.”

Until now, Shea had thought Eamon trusted his
men implicitly. It was something he’d harped on to the point of
annoyance when she first joined up with them. It didn’t sit well
now that he wished to keep Fallon’s identity a secret even from
those who’d always had his back.

Over his shoulder, he told Shea, “Stay close
and don’t stop for anything.”

“I don’t suppose-” she began wistfully,
eyeing Buck and Phillip.

“No.”

She grumbled to herself and pulled faces in
the dark. He hadn’t even let her finish her question.

Sensing something was off, Buck asked,
“What’s up with Shane?”

“Don’t ask. Shane, follow me and stop asking
to trade companions,” Eamon hissed.

“Fine.”

She didn’t see why Phillip or Buck couldn’t
take her place. One rider was the same as the other. At least they
were passable with a blade and could defend their passenger if need
be.

Airing her grievances became impossible as
Eamon tore down the trail, Shea following close behind. They
couldn’t travel too fast for fear of dislodging Shea’s unconscious
passenger, but the pace was faster than before.

For the most part, she kept her eyes focused
on the rump of Eamon’s horse as he led the way. As she was usually
point, this wasn’t a role she was unaccustomed to. He probably
didn’t trust her, which was totally unfair. So she’d been a little
argumentative after exposure to the webs. That didn’t mean she
couldn’t navigate. Hell, there had never been a time when she
couldn’t find her way from point A to point B. She could be on her
deathbed and still be able to lead an expedition into the
wilderness. His suspicion was totally unwarranted.

“Eamon,” Shea shouted, finally noticing his
passenger swaying dangerously. “Secure your man.”

Eamon reached behind him, saying sharply,
“Stay awake.”

The man jolted upright and looked around.

“Stay awake. The last thing we need is for
you to fall off. We didn’t save you from the spinners only to have
you break your neck on the way back to camp,” Eamon warned.

The man nodded wordlessly and straightened in
an attempt to stay more alert.

“Shane-“

“I know,” Shea interrupted. “Keep an eye on
him. I will.”

After the close call with his passenger,
Eamon slowed the pace a little, which was for the best as the
terrain became rougher.

She felt slightly more herself as two large
forms approached, traveling fast enough to overtake Shea and Eamon.
One of their horses neighed a greeting, and Shea’s horse answered
by snorting loudly.

Buck rode past to take up position on Eamon’s
flank while Phillip did the same with Shea. There wasn’t much
conversation as they continued in grim silence, pushing their
horses harder once the other two had caught up.

Hours later the camp’s many fires and torches
lit up the sky, creating a halo effect against the mountains. Eamon
pushed the group even faster and, with a grimace, Shea leaned
forward to urge her horse to keep pace.