"This is amazing," he said, looking up at her while he flipped slowly through.
"Thanks," she mumbled. It was ridiculous to feel a sense of accomplishment from a few words of thoughtless praise. He'd never seen the archives in the Wayfarer's Keep. He didn't know what amazing was.
"I mean, really. This is amazing. I've never even seen some of these beasts and wouldn't know the first thing about dealing with them. You've cataloged what types of environments they like to live in, strengths, possible weaknesses. Here you have a section on what worked against," he squinted at the writing, "an Anzo Scorpion. Nasty creature. Where did you get the idea to do this?"
Shea shrugged noncommittally. She couldn't very well tell him she'd been training to do this since she was younger than him.
He didn't hesitate to continue, his words running together in an endless stream. "The possibilities with something like this are endless. If even one scout in a party had something like this, it would make things so much easier. We could save lives. We might even have a chance against some of these beasts."
Shea plopped her chin on her knee, wondering if he would even notice if she left. He didn't seem to need anyone to carry on a conversation, happy to just talk and talk and talk.
He finally looked up and noticed her attention had wandered. He laughed and handed her book back to her. "Sorry about that. I tend to ramble when I get excited. You're Shane, right?"
She blinked at him and leaned back. How did he know her name?
Seeing the distrust in her expression, he laughed again. "Relax. Buck's been bragging about this amazing Daisy who saved all their asses from death. Said that you got a battlefield promotion to full scout. I just got rid of my yellow ribbon a few weeks ago so I know how exciting that is."
Shea's eyes began to glaze over again at this onslaught of information.
"Just tune Clark out, lad. He's a good boy but tends to let his mouth run away with him when he gets excited," Eamon advised, setting his pack down next to Shea's.
"Eamon!" Clark cried, jumping to his feet and bounding over to clap Eamon on the back. Eamon grinned and slapped him on the back in return. "It's good to see you. I hear you and your boys are going to be helping us tomorrow."
"You heard right. We'll be traveling with you for a spell before we head back to the main body."
"That's a relief. I don't want to think what might happen if we attempted this with what remains of our company."
"How bad was it?" Eamon asked, his voice low.
Clark suddenly seemed older and more mature as a shadow crossed his face, signaling a deep grief. "Bad. We lost four scouts and nearly twenty soldiers before we could put enough distance between us and them."
Eamon looked pained at this news, and he shook his head in sympathy, giving Clark's shoulder a squeeze.
"They won't say it, but the men are uneasy," Clark said quietly. "They're saying these things aren't natural. That they're demons from the underworld."
"They say that whenever they encounter something new."
"Maybe. But you didn't see the way these things hunted. It was like they learned from us. They were intelligent."
Eamon's were troubled as they met Shea's. The lines bracketing his mouth deepened.
"I hear you had your own problems on the trail," Clark said, breaking the silence.
Eamon nodded slowly and this time it was his turn to have his face pulled tight at the thought of friends who hadn't made it. "We lost five."
Clark winced.
"I didn't know you'd been given your own team," Clark said, trying to steer the subject to something less grim.
"Haven't been," Eamon said. "Our scout master died in route. I was next in command."
"Fate's a funny bitch, ain't she?" Clark commiserated. "I know it's not the best way to assume command but congratulations anyways."
"Thanks, kid. You too. I know you've been looking to lose the yellow for a while."
Clark grinned, letting the seriousness of the past few minutes drop. "The green looks good on me, doesn't it?" He pretended to preen despite not having a spot of green anywhere on his person. "Much better than that yellow."
"It does indeed," Eamon agreed.
"Hey, did you see that book your boy's got?" Clark asked, jerking his thumb at Shea.
That rat bastard was telling on her!
She slid the book out of sight as she became the center of attention. Clark rolled his eyes and reached around her as she tried to block him. He pulled the book out of her resisting fingers.
"Get a look at this. I bet there's even an entry about revenants in here." He flipped through the worn pages, taking care not to handle them too roughly, while Eamon peered over his shoulder in curiosity.
"Here it is." Clark shoved the book, opened to the entry in question, into Eamon's hands.
Eamon's eyebrows lowered as his eyes moved from side to side. Shea's fingers itched to snatch it away from him. She didn't like people looking through her things.
She glared at Clark whose lips twitched in answer.
Eamon flipped the page and read to the end of the entry before looking up at Shea. "This is really detailed."
"I've encountered them a time or two in the past."
"From the sound of this, more than a time or two."
She lifted a shoulder and found a spot to stare at on his chest, not wanting to answer the questions she knew were in his eyes.
She could feel the heat of his stare on her bent head as he looked from her to the book in his hands. She imagined he knew how unlikely it was for the average Lowlander to have compiled the information in the book. For starters, most Lowlanders couldn't read or write. Beyond that, the kinds of things noted in the entries weren't something a regular person would notice. It was the kind of stuff people only gleaned after extensive training and experience. Lots of experience. No doubt Eamon was asking himself a lot of questions right now. Questions Shea couldn't afford for him to ask.
Snapping the book shut, he said, "Come with me."
Shea's head shot up to see Eamon moving quickly away from her. Confused and with her mouth slightly open in shock, she glanced at Clark who watched with a bright look of interest. He shrugged. "Don't look at me. You'd best follow. Eamon doesn't like repeating things."
Her mouth snapped shut, and she leapt into motion, catching up with Eamon and tagging along behind him as he threaded through the camp.
"Sir." Eamon stopped in front of Perry and waited to be acknowledged.
"What is it?"
Eamon knelt down and slid the book in front of Perry. "You might want to read this."
The corner of Perry's mouth pulled down in displeasure. "I don't have time for games. There's a-"
His voice trailed off as he caught sight of the smooth charcoal lines rendering a revenant. With a skeptical glance at Eamon, he picked up the book and read the description. When he was done, he leaned back, tapping the book on the makeshift table while studying Eamon and then Shea in turn.
"Where did you get this?"
Eamon gestured behind him at Shea. "It's the boy's."
Those fierce eyes focused on Shea, studying her with a greater intensity than they had earlier that afternoon.
"This pickleberry juice." Perry checked the journal to make sure he was saying it right. "Is it hard to make?"
Eamon nudged her when she was silent a moment too long. "Not at all, sir. All you need to do is crush the berries against your clothing and skin. The plants are all over these hills."
Perry leaned forward placing the book in front of Eamon. "Ensure this information is distributed to my scouts and then the rest of the company. Send him and several parties out to find these berries. Enough for the entire company."
"Yes, sir."
Eamon spun and strode off. Shea lingered a moment looking in slight confusion between his retreating back and Perry, who was examining the map. Then she trailed after Eamon as he pulled several men from their campfires and assembled them in a small gathering.
Buck stopped by Shea and squinted at the group. "What's going on?"
Clark interrupted before Shea opened her mouth. "Your boy there might've given us a fighting chance tomorrow."
Shea disagreed. "I don't think that information is going to have the effect you think it will. It was just an observation I made during my last encounter. It's never been verified."
Clark shrugged. "Maybe not, but we know more about the enemy than we did an hour ago. If nothing else, it'll help the soldiers see the beast as something that's killable. You don't know how important that is. If they think something is impossible before they even start, they won't last long. This way they have hope. Sometimes that makes all the difference."
Clark watched as Eamon held up the book and explained what needed to get done before the morning. The men and women listened intently, their faces focused as they internalized his words.