Pathfinder's Way(54)

"I didn't copy troop movements or anything sensitive, Buck. You know as  well as I do half the time the maps they give us are crap. I wanted a  way to keep track of where we'd been so we didn't have to start from  scratch every time we left camp."

She went back to comparing the two maps.

Seeing the look on her face, Eamon asked, "What? What is it?"

They all regarded her anxiously.

"This map is wrong," she stated the obvious. This next part might be a  little tricky. She needed to convince them while not telling them  everything.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean whoever worked on this fucked up. Big. Half the routes are wiped  out, and it's out of date. See here," she pointed at a broken line that  was to the right of their current position. "We went through this area  last month with Lance's boys."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, when we were done, I told Vincent that they shouldn't send any more men that way unless they wanted them to end up dead."

"Maybe they disregarded your advice. It wouldn't be the first time."

"That's just it," she said, touching the map lightly. "The next map they  sent out had the updates on it. This one doesn't. Not to mention there  are some routes that aren't even on here anymore. They're not marked as  either dangerous or safe. It's like they don't even exist."

"I don't see why this is important," Eamon said.

Shea was silent a moment as she considered her options. She wasn't  Trateri and had only lingered so long because she liked Eamon and Buck.  This was the point of no return. Either she acted on her knowledge or  she let nature run its course. Did she really want to get more involved  than she already was?

"Let's consider the facts, then," she said finally. It wasn't in her to  just walk away even if it was easier. "Every scout that was in or around  the encampment was mobilized to locate someone. It's someone important,  which means enemies. Pretty well connected enemies if my hunch is  right. What if those enemies gave him a map that was wrong? Kind of like  this one."         

     



 

The dark prevented her from reading the men's faces so she was unable to tell the effect her words were having on them.

"Maybe it steered this person toward some of the more dangerous routes,  or maybe it was some mistake. All I know is we're almost through our  area and whatever it is we're supposed to be looking for isn't here."

She didn't want to make it seem too obvious that she knew it was on purpose.

"What do you suggest we do?" Phillip asked. He had been a silent presence until now, and she had almost forgotten he was there.

She shrugged. "We look through some of the routes that should be on here but aren't."

Silence met her statement. Not knowing how they were taking her idea,  she kept quiet and waited. In the end, she didn't know the person lost  out there, and she wasn't Trateri. She'd laid out their options and  pointed at the inconsistencies in the information they'd been given.  Whatever happened next was on them.

She told herself she didn't care as she busied herself with studying the  map, but that was a lie. She did care, and she hated the idea of  leaving someone alone in the dark, especially since she felt slightly  responsible for not speaking up sooner.

It was the same reason she worked with the people of Birdon Leaf despite  the fact she was treated as the village pariah. She knew the fear of  being out there in the great wild expanse knowing nobody was coming for  you. Now, when faced with the thought of abandoning someone to that same  fate, she couldn't do it.

"That's a lot of ground to cover," Buck said uneasily.

"Yup."

There were a number of trails that had been mismarked or left off the  map. It would be impossible to cover all of the area with just the four  of them in a time frame that could make a difference to the men who were  lost.

"Is there a way to narrow it down a little?" Phillip crouched beside her and peered at the parchment in question.

Shea shut her eyes, allowing herself to feel a moment of relief. This  was the reason she hadn't left yet. Every time she steeled herself  against their disdain or disbelief they did something completely  incomprehensible like follow her down whatever rabbit hole she found.

"It would have to be a trail that had shown up on other maps but had  recently been declared a danger zone," Buck said, crouching on her other  side. "That way if the intended target had any familiarity with  previous maps it wouldn't be too suspicious."

"I'm guessing the route would have also been left off the maps given to  the scouts so none of them got it into their heads to check it just in  case." Phillip picked up Shea's journal and squinted at it, trying to  decipher her scribbling's in the dim light and compare them to the  bigger map.

Shea looked up at Eamon, the only one of them who hadn't said anything  and also the one who would ultimately decide if they would investigate  this theory or continue following their orders.

The torch cast harsh shadows on the sharp planes of his features,  concealing his thoughts. He placed both hands on his waist and rocked  back and forth, bending his head slightly. Shea knew from prior  experience that it was the pose he used when he was thinking over his  options.

The two at her side pretended to ignore Eamon's internal struggle, but, like her, they held themselves tight in anticipation.

"It probably wouldn't be too far off the area we're searching so as to further allay suspicion," Eamon finally added.

The three exhaled in relief before bending to compare notes and  observations. The hunt was on, and if there was anything Shea had  learned in her time with the Trateri, it was that they loved a hunt,  whether of man or beast.

They decided their quarry had been coming from the north and a little to  the east since most of the scouts had been sent north and slightly to  the west. After discarding some of the more mountainous paths and the  ones with little probability of beast activity, they were left with four  strong possibilities and a remaining three that held an outside chance.

"That's still too many," Eamon said, looking at their work.

They all sat back, disappointed. Even if they were right, it wouldn't  help them unless they could narrow their search to a smaller area. While  Eamon and the others were convinced of Shea's theory, there was very  little possibility other scouts would be.

Searching outside their designated area was dangerous. If they failed,  it could be seen as a sign of insubordination, leaving them open for  challenge. If Eamon lost a challenge then he'd be stripped of his rank,  and they could all be punished. It wasn't a happy thought.         

     



 

"We could split up," Phillip offered. "Each take a separate route."

Eamon was already shaking his head. "No, that's not going to happen. If  they were set on by beasts, I don't want any of us out there alone  trying to save them."

"How about groups of two?" Buck said.

Eamon bent his head in thought.

"That might work," he said. "I still don't like it, though."

"It's probably our only option," Shea said softly. "If we narrow the  search any further, we risk eliminating a path they could have taken and  missing them entirely."

Eamon nodded in agreement, though his expression in the flickering light  made it clear he didn't like it. Shea sympathized and knew that he'd  blame himself if anybody didn't make it back to the rendezvous alive.  That was the burden that came with being in charge, and it was one she  didn't envy him.

He unhooked one of the oblong canisters from his hip and handed it to  Buck. "Alright, but if you find him or get into any trouble, shoot one  of the firebugs into the sky for help. I'll pair up with Shane, and  we'll take the three that are the furthest northeast. You two take the  rest. When you're done, meet at the fork in the river that we passed  this morning."

Back at the horses they mounted and together traveled through the  shadowy valley, with the white cliffs nearly glowing in the moonlight.

Buck and Phillip angled away. Buck lifted one hand in farewell, his dark  figure disappearing quickly into the gloom. Shea watched them go,  praying that this theory of hers didn't get them all killed. Her horse  followed Eamon without any urging from her, and they rode in silence as  they made their way to the closest route Shea had marked off as theirs.





Hours later Shea was kicking herself for opening her mouth. They were  halfway through the second path and still no sign of their quarry.

Shea stopped her horse suddenly. Something was off.

"Eamon."

No questions asked, he pulled his horse to a stop, looking around alert for possible danger.

Shea's horse moved under her and tossed its head. Patting its neck in  wordless comfort, she paid close attention to any details that might  tell her why her senses were screaming danger.

This happened every so often when her subconscious recognized a threat.  She'd learned the hard way to pay attention to these little warning  signs and let her consciousness relax enough to find that detail that  could explain why the skin on her neck was trying to crawl its way down  her back.