Pathfinder's Way (7 page)

Shea shot him a look from the corner of her
eye. She hadn’t really been asking for his permission.

She shrugged. It didn’t hurt to let him think
he had a say.

“Over here,” Shea said, making her way to a
large rock pile.

She darted around its edge, climbing onto a
large outcropping before turning to pull Cam up while James pushed
from below. Finding this nice little hiding place had taken a lot
longer than she would have liked.

Their pace had fallen nearly to a crawl as
the day progressed. Cam struggled to keep up, relying more and more
on James for support until James nearly had to carry him.

Knowing their pursuers would catch them if
they continued at the rate they were going, Shea had handed her
pack off to Witt before running ahead in search of a hidey
hole.

She’d found one not far away.

A person looking directly at the pile of
boulders would assume they butted right up against the canyon wall.
It wasn’t until you walked to the far right side that you could see
a narrow gap where a small group of people could remain unseen by
others passing by.

Best of all, the rock slide had created
enough of a hill that a really determined person could probably use
the resulting debris to climb to the top of the ridge.

Shea jumped back down and ordered Dane and
Witt to join the other two. For once, they obeyed without
arguing.

“Wait here until I come back. I’ll try to
draw them off.” She pointed at the two strangers. “You’re coming
with me.”

She started wiping away the tracks leading to
the hiding place. There were two thuds as the strangers hopped down
beside her. In seconds, they had done a hasty but reasonably
thorough job of wiping the dirt clean of all traces of passage.

Just in time too as the noise of pursuit
began to rise.

She really hoped this worked, that she wasn’t
leaving her people cornered.

Shea and the other two darted down the path,
turning the corner just as the first villager burst into sight. The
strangers kept pace as Shea hurtled away from the others.

A knot in her chest loosened slightly as the
villagers poured after them, leaving the others undisturbed in the
hiding place.

Shea followed the twists and turns of the
canyon, hastily scanning the area for a break in the rock walls or
a weak spot she and the others could use to scramble to safety. If
they didn’t get out of this confining space, they were dead.

Shea rounded a corner and slid to a sharp
stop, nearly falling on her ass as she lost her balance.

A horse pawed idly at the ground while
another shook his head, ruffling his mane as riders watched her
impassively.

“Crap,” Shea whispered, backing away slowly
as a rider’s horse broke from the group to take several steps
forward.

She bumped into a large body and jumped. She
turned with a warning to run on her lips when a pair of hands
steadied her before tugging her to the side.

“Behind us,” Whiskey barked.

Shea tilted her head to look up at him. His
eyes were hard, and his voice held a steely thread of command.

Shea flinched back as the men unsheathed
their weapons. The riders thundered past, leaving the trio
untouched.

Shea exhaled shakily. May the mist take her,
but she’d thought that was the end.

She nearly swallowed her tongue when she
noticed a man had remained behind.

He kicked his horse forward into a slow trot.
Stopping next to Shea and Whiskey, he unbuckled the sword attached
to the pommel of his saddle.

“You took your sweet time, Fallon.”

“One of our party was injured. It slowed us
down,” Whiskey rumbled from behind Shea.

The man on the horse tossed the sword to
Fallon, the whiskey-eyed man, who caught it easily. He released
Shea to buckle the sword onto his belt.

“We’d almost given you up for dead.” The
rider’s lips twisted into a sardonic smile. “I could practically
hear the clan heads fighting over your successor.”

“They’ll just have to wait a little longer.
I’m sure they have many plans for my demise. It’d be a shame if
they never got to put any of them into action.”

The rider chuckled.

As the three men conversed among themselves,
Shea edged slowly away, trying not to draw attention to
herself.

The villagers were no longer a problem, but
that didn’t mean much, only that she now had to contend with an
unknown element with unknown motivations. All this talk of death
wasn’t giving her a warm, fuzzy feeling.

She froze when Fallon pinned her with his
gaze, giving her the full force of his attention. This man was on a
whole other level than the one she had saved. That man had been
intense but ultimately nonthreatening. This man in front of her was
a leader of warriors. Strong. Commanding. Forceful. Used to getting
his way.

“I see you didn’t escape empty handed,” the
rider observed, following Fallon’s gaze to Shea. “She’s
pretty.”

“And cunning,” the other man Shea had saved
added. “She rescued us and two idiots from execution. Stole us
right out from under the villagers’ noses.”

“Is that right?” The horse’s saddle creaked
as the man sat back and turned thoughtful eyes back to Shea.

Fallon ignored this exchange. Whatever he was
thinking was hidden behind an unreadable expression.

Shea was very aware of the size of the men in
front of her in a way she had not been before. Fallon and the other
she had rescued were over a head taller than her, their bodies
covered in muscles she suspected were built over years of weapons
training and combat.

She took another step backward. She wasn’t
liking where this was going. A little distance between them seemed
like a good idea. You know, just in case.

“I should be going.” She tried a smile, but
it disappeared almost before it formed. “My people probably need
help. Glad you were able to meet up with your men.”

She straightened her shoulders and nodded
sharply at him, hoping he’d let her pass.

The man on the horse snorted. “Are you
planning on keeping her?”

Shea stiffened. Her eyes shot back to Fallon
whose face up to then had been closed off, keeping his thoughts
hidden. Now it filled with a fierce possessiveness.

“You’re not going to let me go are you?” she
asked with a sinking feeling.

His eyes held hers as he shook his head once.
“No.”

“I saved you and your man.”

“For which I’m grateful, but that doesn’t
change the fact that you’re mine now.”

What did that even mean?

“There are too many of us for you alone to
fight, and your men are still hiding,” Fallon told her, having
guessed the path her thoughts had taken.

Shea’s shoulders tightened, and her mouth
firmed into a straight line. What he said was true, but she wasn’t
nearly as helpless as she seemed. She’d wait. Bide her time until
she could get away.

“No harm will come to you from our hands,
lady,” Fallon told her quietly.

That depended on his definition of harm. A
man and a woman’s ideas on harm often differed.

Victorious shouts echoed off the rock walls
as Fallon’s men rode into view. That split second of distraction
was what Shea had been waiting for.

She sprinted for the nearest canyon wall.

“Don’t let her escape,” Fallon’s friend
yelled.

Lucky for her, the wall was formed of hard
rock instead of soft dirt.

Praying under her breath, she grabbed two
handholds, placed a foot in a small indentation in the rock and
started climbing, moving as quickly as she could. Horse hooves
pounded nearer as she headed up and up, frantically trying to get
out of reach. She placed her foot in a small groove, tightened her
grip on the wall and then straightened her leg, stepping up and
gaining another foot of height on the canyon wall. Her breath
caught as she felt a hand grab her ankle before sliding off as she
squirmed up another few inches. There was a loud curse beneath her
as she climbed two more feet to relative safety.

It was only when she felt sure she was out of
arm reach that she glanced down. Fallon glared up at her from the
back of his friend’s horse. The original rider slowly sauntered
towards them, seemingly amused at the spectacle. Fallon must have
dumped the man off his horse to pursue her.

She threw her head back and gave a shout of
relief. She’d escaped. She’d won. And boy did it feel good to have
outsmarted them.

Still laughing slightly, she glanced down and
teased, “Guess you won’t be keeping me after all.”

At her words, Fallon’s scowl disappeared, and
his lips tilted slightly upward into a small smile as he relaxed
into the saddle. “Guess not.” The horse paced in a circle as Shea
climbed a few more feet, going carefully now that she couldn’t be
plucked off the cliff. A fall from this height could maim or kill
her. “The world’s not that big. Next time you might not be so
lucky.”

She didn’t know what made her do it. Perhaps
it was the high from escaping or the rush of being in such a
dangerous situation, but Shea was in a bit of a playful mood.

She shot a teasing smile back down at him.
“You’ll have to catch me first, and I can pretty much guarantee I
know these hills better than any of you.”

“A challenge,” Fallon’s friend said, coming
up to stand beside him. “Careful, lady. You’ve thrown the gauntlet
down, and Fallon has never backed down from a challenge.”

Shea smiled to herself. In this case, he was
just going to have to accustom himself to losing. There were few
people in this world able to find Shea when she didn’t want to be
found, and all of them were pathfinders like her.

No, this would be the last Fallon would see
of her.

There was a sharp twang. An arrow embedded
itself in the rock less than an inch from the hand reaching for her
next handhold. Her body jerked back, upsetting her balance. Only
the fact that she’d wedged her other hand into a crack and then
formed a fist to lock herself in place, prevented her from falling.
She dangled high above the ground, her weight supported only by one
hand.

“Hold your fire,” Fallon shouted. “Do not
fire again.”

“Who shot that?” Fallon’s friend yelled. He
strode to his men and pulled the offending party off his horse.
“What were you thinking? You could have caused her to fall.”

He didn’t wait for the man to defend himself,
instead jerking the bow out of his hands and shoving him.

Shea placed her feet against the rock face
and hugged the wall, taking deep breaths. A fine tremble invaded
her limbs.

That had been close.

She shifted slightly, and her heart shot into
her throat. She really did not want to move. Not to go up. And
definitely not to go down.

Perhaps she could just stay here. It seemed
like a nice cliff. The view wasn’t great, just ugly brown rocks and
dirt, but nice scenery was overrated when compared to life and
limb.

She was frozen. Stuck. And being over twenty
feet off the ground with half the cliff left to scale was not a
good place to be.

She shut her eyes and took a few calming
breaths. “You can do this. Quit thinking and just climb. Put one
hand over the other and keep going.”

Staying put was the worst thing to do right
now. It took strength to cling to the side of a cliff, and every
second she wasted a little bit more of her strength drained away.
She chanced a glance back down. Fallon watched her carefully from
the horse, his mouth pressed into a tight line. She looked back up
at the distance she had left, took a deep breath and started
climbing.

She focused on the task before her, ignoring
all other distractions as she edged ever closer to the top.
Finally, she rolled onto her back to stare up at the sky. Her arms
ached. Her legs ached. Every muscle ached. After the long journey
of the past two days, the headlong rush of escape and now the
strength needed to make that climb, Shea was tired. She needed a
nap.

She poked her head over the side of the cliff
and glanced straight at Fallon. He gave her a respectful nod.

Carefully, she backed away from the edge and
stood before glancing at the sharp hills and buttes before her.
Fallon and the danger he represented fell from her thoughts as she
was confronted with the reality in front of her. The Badlands. A
place she thought she’d never see again.

She turned back to the canyon. People were
waiting for her. They counted on her to do her job. That meant
putting her unease and trepidation about being back here into a box
and then burying it to be dealt with later.

True, the last time she’d visited the
Badlands she’d nearly died. A lot of people HAD died. This trip was
different. They weren’t going into the heart but rather skirting
along its edges.

Her feet turned towards Dane, Witt and the
others. She settled into a slow jog, dodging around sparse brush
and uneven rocks. Time to get to work and lead her group home.

Fallon stared after the woman long after she
was gone. Shea, he thought he’d heard one of her friends call her.
It was a pretty name. Kind of sharp but feminine at the same time.
Like her.

She was a unique existence to him. Calm in
the face of danger with an air of command that demanded obedience
from men who clearly didn’t enjoy listening. Two of the men she’d
had with her didn’t look like the type to easily follow orders. Yet
when she spoke, they listened. The way she had disrupted the
execution spoke of strategic and creative thinking while under
pressure. A rare talent. She’d made the most out of the tools she
had and then executed her mission flawlessly. If she were a
Trateri, she would have made a fine general with a little training
and guidance.

He found that fascinating.