This was why she hated getting involved. Saving stupid people was a thankless task.
The woman darted past her, swinging a sword the length of Shea’s arm. She cut one vine in half and then reversed her slash to take care of another.
Shea let the woman and the other man fight the vines while she concentrated on the one wrapped around the captive’s leg.
She hacked at it, losing the proper form her sword instructors had tried to engrave in her body. All she cared about was getting the stupid vine to let go.
Her cuts fell in a flurry of strikes, a pale-yellow substance oozing out of the wounds. It quivered and then released the man’s leg before slithering back behind the curtain of vines. The cloth the vine had touched was partially torn and bright red welts formed on the man’s leg.
Shea grabbed his shoulder and heaved, half dragging him as he crab-walked backwards with her.
“Let’s go. Get out of range of the vines!” Shea shouted at the other two.
She’d only taken two steps before a vine struck, wrapping around her leg and jerking. She hit the ground with a grunt, the sword falling from her grip. Her hands scrabbled at the dirt as the vine tried to drag her back toward the flower that was beginning to peek past the curtain of green.
A whistle cut through the air, ending in a thunk. The grip around her leg loosened and she scrambled forward.
“Move your ass,” Trenton shouted as she gained her feet and raced away from the flower. She grabbed the man she’d saved and half dragged him across the forest floor to safety, as Trenton, the woman, and the second man worked to hold off the other vines.
Small feeler vines slithered across the ground after them but gave up the chase after a few feet.
Trenton’s face was coldly furious as he looked back at Shea. His eyes held an accusation that she had no doubt would reach Caden and Fallon’s ears when they returned from their trip. When she’d eluded Daere and Trenton, she’d known he wasn’t going to be happy when he found her. It was just her luck that he caught up to her as she was being dragged to a grisly death. He’d no doubt have some choice words for her later.
“What the hell was that?” the second man asked in a shrill voice, interrupting Trenton’s lecture before it could begin. His friend was seated on the ground, his hands hovering over the welts on his leg as he stared at the nest of vines that writhed and swarmed like a den of snakes.
Shea sighed and gave him a long-suffering look. “Had you bothered to listen, I would have told you that several of these types of vines are attached to a carnivorous plant, but hey, you seem to know what you’re doing. Next time I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure your families will be very proud when they’re told their sons were eaten by a flower.”
Both men stared at Shea in shock. They seemed almost as surprised at her response as they had been that a plant had tried to kill them.
The woman snorted. “You two louts should have listened to the stories. She’s the scout who saved the Hawkvale’s life from a spinner nest and from a village of crazy Lowlanders. When she tells you something, it’s best to pay attention.”
Several Trateri joined them then. There were exclamations of shock as they viewed the still writhing vines with something close to fear. It was one thing to be wary of the beasts that inhabited the Broken Lands, but a plant that could kill? The Trateri had no frame of reference for that.
“I’d leave the vines alone until you can get one of the villagers to help you safely clear the area,” Shea said. Fire should do it, but she kept that part to herself. She didn’t want to get drawn into this anymore than she was already.
Before they could ask her further questions, Shea walked away. The woman who’d interfered joined her, and Trenton trailed behind them, a grim and glowering shadow.
“Thank you for your help,” Shea said after a beat. “I’m not sure it was needed, but it was appreciated regardless.”
The woman’s small grin flashed white teeth against a tan face. Her eyes crinkled with some private amusement.
“Don’t mention it. I was in a nasty mood before I happened upon you. It gave me a chance to work through some of my aggression before I took it out on the men under my command.”
Shea doubted that. The woman had seemed calm and collected when she dressed down those men. There hadn’t been an ounce of unnecessary anger or aggression.
“You seem familiar,” Shea said, saying what had been on her mind since the woman interceded.
The woman’s grin became a full-fledged smile. “I should. We’ve met before.”
Shea glanced over at her, startled. Had they? She took a closer look, trying to place the face. It was right there, but the memory wasn’t coming.
“Let me see if this jogs your mind. Revenants and pickleberry juice.”
The memory smacked her in the face. Shea’s jaw dropped.
“You’re the second command in Sawgrass. Perry’s your commander, right?”
Shea remembered now, the woman had been in the company that had taken on a huge revenant pack on Shea’s first mission as a Trateri scout. They’d have all died, despite every precaution taken and a hard battle fought, if Fallon hadn’t joined the battle at the right moment.
“Yeah. My name’s Fiona, in case you don’t remember. You were just a Daisy then.”
A Daisy was an untried scout, named for the yellow ribbon sewn into the collar and edges of the green jacket that all scouts owned. The jacket had been in a pack Shea had stolen on her way out of camp and was the reason why Eamon had assumed she was assigned to his scouting party.
Needless to say, she hadn’t worn the yellow long. Only until the Trateri realized the extent of her skills and promoted her to a full scout.
“I’d forgotten the name, but I do remember the face,” Shea admitted.
“Is that normal? How those men talked to you?” Fiona asked, tilting her head back at the Trateri they’d just saved.
Shea shot a glance over her shoulder. The Trateri massed around the vines. Most kept a careful distance, but some intrepid individuals poked at the vines with swords and jerked back when the vines tried to grab them.
“I’ve never had anybody be quite so blatant with their disrespect before.” Shea’s response was slow and careful. She wasn’t one to talk about such matters, especially with strangers. Lately, she’d been trying to be a little bit more open, having experienced some of the friendships with the Trateri scouts she had worked with. It was a work in progress.
“In other words, there has been disrespect.”
Trenton looked over with a frown. Shea ignored him and shrugged. Fiona could make of that what she would.
Fiona walked beside her in silence for a moment, her forehead wrinkled in thought. Shea was content to leave her to her internal musings, instead preoccupied with looking around the camp.
There wasn’t enough room in the treetop village for the entire Trateri army, though the villagers had offered hospitality to Fallon and his top officials. They’d rejected it, giving the excuse that they needed to stay close to their men.
The truth was that they didn’t trust the villagers, who had treated the Trateri horde as odd friends come to visit. The Trateri were used to at least a token resistance and were flummoxed at the lack of one upon their arrival.