The Wind's Call (The Broken Lands #4) - T.A. White Page 0,58
woke, face wet with tears and throat sore from the sounds she made while locked in sleep.
Eva waited for the inevitable questions, bracing to see the derision in this strong man’s eyes when he finally faced her. Caden was mentally one of the strongest people she knew. Having him see this weakness of hers left her feeling exposed and fragile.
Caden surprised her. He continued to watch the night while she studied his back.
He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask questions, didn’t even acknowledge that he knew she was awake. They sat in silence until Eva had calmed and drowsiness lay claim to her.
He curled onto his side, still facing away from her and rested his head on the pack. Eva followed suit, grateful he hadn’t prodded as so many others would have.
With his silent company a soothing presence, she let her eyes drift shut. For once, the company of another didn’t seem so bad.
*
Caden struggled to control his frustration as he surveyed the straggly band shambling toward them. Four days on the road and it was one setback after another, as if the land itself was cursing their passage.
Caden wasn't a man given to flighty superstitions, but he was beginning to see why such things abounded in the Highlands.
"How can you not know if we're going the right way?" Darius’s eyes flashed dangerously. There was little of the ease or humor he normally cloaked himself in.
"This isn't an exact science," Reece snapped. "I can't snap my fingers and say ah-ha, it’s that way. The Kyren's directions didn't come with a map. I'm doing the best I can, given the information I have."
"It seems you don't quite live up to the prestige of your cousin," Darius said.
Reece rolled his eyes. "Yes, because Shea is all powerful and unable to fail. Too bad she's filled with your warlord's spawn right now and probably couldn't walk up a mountain let alone a dozen of them. Wake up, she would have had just as many problems as me."
Maybe so, but she would have done considerably less whining. Caden kept that thought to himself, letting the pathfinder vent his feelings. Pointing out the obvious would only lead to more of the same, only at a slightly higher pitch.
Caden didn't think he could take much more. Otherwise, he might try to separate the pathfinder's head from his shoulders.
Reece wasn't the only one in a bad mood. All of the Trateri were. Arguments had been springing up left and right, along with more than a few fights.
First there had been the landslide that forced them to divert from their expected path early on. Then there was the infernal rain that had soaked the land off and on since the journey had begun. Compound that with a string of horses stepping wrong and several of them winding up with injuries when they slid down the side of a steep hill, and already the trip had disaster written all over it.
Everyone was tired, cranky, and wet.
Caden almost hoped for a beast to vent his pent-up energy on.
Just then, the dark clouds that had been threatening overhead let loose. Rain poured down as thunder rumbled.
"Why is it wet all of the time?" Darius cursed.
Caden was tired of it too. The damp and the cold had invaded his bones worse than any winter storm he'd survived while they'd wintered at Wayfarer's Keep.
"It's the Highlands. When it isn't raining, there's fog or snow or some variation of the two. Sometimes all of them at once. It's cold and miserable, just like those who choose to inhabit it. Aren't you glad your warlord decided to add it to his empire?" Reece asked snidely. His expression sobered. "If you thought there would be warmth because it's spring, you're mistaken. Summer is a brief flirtation with normal weather. It dies like mayflies, almost before you even know it’s there."
Darius exhaled, shaking his head as the pathfinder stalked off. "I never thought I'd say this, but I miss Shea."
"Agreed. At least she keeps her mouth mostly shut while she does her job," Caden said.
Darius's chuckle was deep. His focus caught on Eva struggling up the hill, the horse that was always by her side trailing behind like a faithful companion and watchdog.
The gray was quickly becoming a problem. She acted more like a guard than a mount. She was a jealous mistress, unwilling to let anyone near. Jane said the mare had already tried to take a bite out of her.