Pathfinder's Way(29)

     



 

She made sure to keep her voice to a low murmur. If you knew one thing  about a beast, people always expected you to know everything.

Granted, she usually did know more than she knew about the shadow beetles.

Eamon grabbed Shea by the shoulders, his larger frame dwarfing hers.  "You know more about these things than either of us. That means we're  going to be looking to you for answers. It's not fair, but that's just  the way it is. Now, you know more than you think."

Seeing the rebuttal on her face, he shook her once.

"Neither of us would have known it had a soft spot on the back of its  neck just from seeing an eagle attack it once. We would have simply  assumed the eagle's claws were sharper than our weapons. We're not  expecting miracles from you. Just give us what you know. Every piece of  information is more than we had before and could give us an advantage."

Shea held his eyes, not sure if that had been a motivational speech or just the truth.

People always expected miracles. They might say they didn't, but when  the dead were lying on the ground, the finger pointing began.

Always.

"We could leave them behind," she suggested watching him carefully, painfully aware of the large paws still on her shoulders.

His chest expanded as he inhaled sharply, and his hands clenched momentarily, before loosening to fall to his sides.

Buck's lip curled in derision as he looked her over, but Eamon watched  her as carefully as she did him. "I can't do that, and unless I miss my  guess, neither can you."

Shea stayed leaning against the cool rock at her back even when he released her. She bent her head and gripped her forearms.

Might as well tell them her theories and observations. It was a little late to pretend ignorance.

He was right in that she didn't really have it in her to turn her back  and leave them to their fate. She didn't have it in Edgecomb or outside  of Goodwin of Ria, and she didn't have it now.

"I don't know how long they stay flushed with blood," she told them.  Before Eamon could get all disappointed, she said, "Tell me everything  you remember from when you encountered the last shadow beetle."

They took turns telling her about the attack. Buck held himself stiffly  as he recounted his friend being torn in two. The man had been laughing  at a joke and then suddenly he wasn't. Instead, he was in pieces on the  ground, never to laugh again.

Lorn had shouted to retreat, and the beetle had taken him next. After  that, Eamon had grabbed Buck and squeezed them into a crevasse between  two rocks, stabbing at it with their swords when it tried to root them  out.

Shea asked them to repeat certain parts and expand on others. When they  were done, she crouched behind the boulder and peered into the canyon,  checking for any movement. Her mind churned through the information they  had given her.

She ducked back and sat on her heels.

"What do you think?" Eamon asked crouching beside her.

"I don't think they hunt by sight or smell."

"Why?"

"Smell because it would have found us by now. Sight, well I didn't see any eyes on that thing, did you?"

Buck tilted his head back, trying to remember. Shea hadn't been in the  state of mind to notice much of anything when she was trying to hack its  head off. Of the three, he'd been the one to look it over afterwards.  Shea had still been trying to wrap her head around the fact that it was  over, and Eamon was busy attending to the dead.

"There were, but they were very small."

"Right, that leaves sound. Buck said the first person it attacked was  the one making the most noise. Then it attacked Lorn next despite Buck  being closer. Also, if it was where I think it was a little bit ago, it  would have had a direct line of sight on us. My guess is it's attracted  to vibrations."

Buck started looking over his shoulders and up above their heads. "If  it's attracted to sound, wouldn't it be able to tell we're here  already."

"Possibly, but given how big that other thing was I don't think it'd be  able to fit in this tiny space. Besides, these cliffs act as amplifiers,  which can make it difficult to tell a sound's direction. I don't think  it'll be able to pin us down until we're in an enclosed space with it.  It might know we're coming though."

"So we'll have to be as quiet as possible going forward," Eamon said.

"It's not just speaking that we have to be careful of. It's the way we move too."

Eamon stood and adjusted the sword at his waist. Buck edged over to peer  around their little rock shelter, taking a closer look at both cliff  sides.         

     



 

"We'll spread out so if it attacks, the rest have a better chance of  doing something," Eamon said softly. "We know its weak spot now. We have  a chance."

Shea's expression said ‘what the fuck is that going to do?'

"This is what a scout does, Daisy," Buck said with a jaunty grin. "We go  where others fear to tread. It's why we're the best of Hawkvale's Army.  Men fight for the privilege of being a scout. Father's train their boys  from birth for the sole purpose of joining our ranks. Who wants to be  swinging a blade while hemmed in on their left and right when they have a  chance at true glory? We slay beasts, and we're not afraid of anything.  Not even death."

Buck drew his blade, crouched before looking to both sides and above, and then moved forward, walking as lightly as possible.

Eamon's large body was framed in the opening as he looked back, giving  her an inscrutable look before he too moved into the ravine. Unlike  Buck, he didn't crouch or hunch as if expecting a beast, but he did give  everything a once over before stepping quietly out of their hiding  place.

Shea sighed and drew her blade. She couldn't let them go alone. They  didn't know it, but pathfinders had a similar mentality and were  considered just as elite among her people. If she let them go alone, her  dignity would never bear it.

Here goes.

As she stepped out, her body tensed for a blow that never came. She  moved carefully, picking each foot up and setting it down softly before  shifting to move the other foot, ensuring that she didn't accidently  kick any pebbles or step too hard. All the while she was on the lookout  for any odd shapes, weird outcroppings or movement in her peripheral  vision.

Buck had made his way to the cloth fluttering from the cliff. After  scrutinizing the rock around the fabric, he pulled it down. He examined  it before sticking it in his belt and returning to the middle of the  canyon.

A tunnel, about half the height of Eamon, burrowed into the soft rock of  the cliff. She edged around it, leaving a wide space between it and  her. The empty blackness taunted her with what might be waiting to pop  out. It was too small for an adult beetle to fit through. It had to be  one of the ones the mother had dug to lay her eggs.

Shea crossed in front of it as quickly as she dared. Buck, on the other  hand, approached stealthily and stuck his head in, trying to see into  the black.

When he caught her eye, he gave a shrug that said he was curious.

These guys were crazy.

She followed Eamon, keeping an eye out and her weapon loose in her hand.

Still no sign of the others. Where did they go? It wasn't as if there  were a lot of places to hide. The sheer cliffs offered no shelter, and  there were no boulders or trees to conceal themselves behind. Just rocky  dirt. And burrows.

She froze, twisting to find Buck sticking his head down another one.

They couldn't be that dumb, could they?

Eamon had stopped moving and was giving the burrows an assessing glance.  He looked over his shoulder and tilted his head at the dark hole.

Yep, they could be that dumb. Shea mouthed a curse.

That's why Buck was so all fired curious about the damn things. He thought their people might be in them.

He backed out of the latest one and shook his head at Eamon.

To those unfamiliar with the shadow beetle, it would have made sense to  seek shelter in one of the smaller tunnels. The shadow beetle was too  big to follow. It would seem like the safest place if you didn't know  about the hundreds, possibly thousands, of eggs filled with ravenous  baby shadow beetles, just waiting to hatch.

Buck straightened and pointed at the tunnel he just checked, making the  sign for tracks. It was no bigger than waist high and only about two  feet across. He'd found several footprints in the dirt in front of it.

They shared looks of equal distaste.

None of them wanted to head down into the dark. Eamon rolled his eyes up  to the sky as if to say ‘why me?' while Buck rested one arm against the  stone and covered his eyes.

Eamon crouched to the side and cupped his hands around his mouth  whispering as loud as he could into the dark, "Vale? Anyone? Are you  alive down there?"

Buck and Eamon tilted their heads, trying to hear a response.

Shea turned partially away and raised her weapon as she scanned the  canyon. When no response came, Eamon duck walked a few feet, trying hard  not to bump his head on the ceiling. He repeated the call.

A shout ripped through the blackness. It was piercingly loud in the quiet.