That was a more appropriate word. But how about freaky, or deadly? How about we need to get the hell out of here?
Cathal must have been thinking something similar. “We need to plan,” he said. He turned to look into the cave, then out to the dark clouds rolling over the tree-tops. “So, options. We could take our chances heading for the hold-out, and risk meeting those warths again. We could wait for dawn. Maybe Haven might have thought about sending someone out.”
There was a lilt in his voice, and at another time Brice might have laughed. Even if the Proteus had managed to send an automatic update—and with the power playing up, how likely was that?—there was no guarantee Haven would act on it. They trusted crews to fend for themselves.
Keelin closed her eyes, and Brice knew she was trying to reach their Proteus. None of the others said a word, but they all watched the pilot. When she opened her eyes, they were moist. She shook her head.
Ryann placed a hand on Keelin’s shoulder, and the look that passed between them could only mean a private suss. Then Ryann turned to Cathal, and Brice knew they, too, were communicating. So much, he thought, for them working together.
“One more option,” Cathal said, looking into the cave. “If we’re stuck up here, we use our time wisely. We explore. Ryann, brief us.”
“We know the cliff’s riddled with caves and tunnels, but we have access to no data. That means we have no maps. We go in, we rely on our own intel.”
“So, three options,” Cathal continued. “Take our chances in the forest, wait for Haven to get round to finding us, or explore the caves. Crew vote. Brice?”
His answer was obvious. They couldn’t rely on a rescue, and the forest was damp, depressing and full of warths. And it would be good to see something new for a change. “Caves,” he said.
“Tris?”
“I say we wait.” He glared at Brice. “Don’t want any more accidents.”
“Keelin?”
“Best of a bad choice—explore.”
“Ryann?”
“Explore. I vote caves.”
Cathal nodded. “Vote carried. Tris—how do we go about this?”
Tris scanned the dark depths of the cavern. “We go slow and steady. Just so we don’t miss anything. Start here, record everything. Be ready to return,” but he stumbled over that word, and it almost came out as ‘retreat’. “We don’t take any stupid risks.”
Brice snorted, but not so loud that any of the others heard him. He knew what Cathal was doing—giving the dissenter a say in what they did—but Tris’ response was pretty trite. Go slow, and be ready to run away. About what Brice expected.
But Cathal nodded. “Sound like a plan. Okay, let’s do this.”
Brice peered into the depths of the cave, searching for the rear wall. Pulling up filters, he saw dark, cold areas that must be passages, and he wondered where they led, and what they held. Not warths, of that he was certain. And it was too dark down here to sustain life—all life needed light, right? He was certain he’d heard that somewhere.
Maybe it was adrenaline from earlier, still running through his body, but for the first time in ages, Brice was excited.
This was adventure. This was exploration. This was what he’d signed up for.
Ryann kept her frustrations in check. They were entering the unknown, and she needed to remain alert.
But she had made a mistake. She should have sensed that third warth. She should have done more to protect the crew.
And, in truth, she had sensed it, but she’d pushed it to one side. Warths never moved in threes, so she told herself it wasn’t a threat. It felt distant, or maybe it was immature. Even if it was close, it wouldn’t intrude on the territory of the other two. She’d ignored it, focusing on the immediate danger.
Yet there had been a fourth signal, one that was even less distinct than the third warth. It felt like a sound on the edge of hearing, and nagged at her like an itch that refused to let up. It felt strangely familiar, although it was definitely neither a warth or a person.
It came from the cave. She was certain of that. It felt like the thing was watching, but as they climbed it retreated. And now, as they walked the cave, spaced out in standard formation, all Ryann tasted was a trace that was little more than a hint.
She followed the hint, but the path seemed to double-back, and she caught the flavour from both sides. It hung above her, too, and she imagined a lizard clinging to the rock. But this was no lizard. They were cold-blooded beings, and the flow of the energy in their blood was clear to a tracker. No, this new signal belonged to something that…that possessed a different kind of energy. Something that was not quite life as she understood it. More of an existence.
Unclear, and troubling. Ryann needed to be careful. She had the crew to keep safe. But she needed more data before she made a firm analysis.
As if on cue, Cathal sussed.
<Thoughts, Ryann, please.>
That was interesting, how he used the word ‘please’. She’d noticed how he said it to Keelin earlier, when she’d been trying to raise the Proteus. ‘Keep trying, please.’ It was something to keep tabs on.
<On the crew?>
<For a start.>
That was ominous. <They’re all coping. Smart move letting Tris lead, by the way.>
<What about Brice?>
<Over-confident. Should never have slipped on that climb.>
<Agreed. Masked fear or trying to prove himself?>
<Both.>
<Hmm. So what about the third warth?>
Of course, that was what he really wanted to discuss.
<Don’t know what I can tell you. The signal was masked, and I was concentrating on the others. I can only apologise.> She didn’t feel good lying to him, even if it was only a lie of omission. But Cathal
