Chapter 17 #2
She slid her hand along the glistening cave wall and indicated to him a low stalactite up ahead with her torch.
She felt him pass the information to the other men, and she moved her torch to the side, letting the shadows shroud her face.
Even in this darkness, she felt the incessant glow that he caused.
It burned so brightly inside her that she wondered if it was the torches or she herself lighting the way.
The moment she and Philippe had been in the hot springs had been a revelation.
He still wanted her. And it thrilled her. It absolutely thrilled her.
Emily, ironically, had told her to enjoy Philippe and what he had to offer.
And, really, why shouldn’t she? Even if she never had another lover, shouldn’t she experience the act of sex at least once?
Damn how she wished she could just sleep with that man.
Her body reacted insolently every time he was near.
Even at that moment, with dense earth around them and uncertainty in the air, his closeness caused delicious tension to pulse through her.
And though he’d kept every promise he’d made at the beginning of the journey, she felt the gentle pressure he was applying.
He knew what he was doing; she was the one who didn’t know the rules of this game.
She felt outmatched. Underprepared. Dangerously inexperienced.
She breathed a heavy sigh. She knew it was only fantasy.
With every surge of longing and affection she felt for him, she felt a persistent throb of regret for an affair that she could never let happen.
Indulging in him would undercut her dreams of moving back to Chevalerie.
It would mean that she hadn’t gotten stronger or smarter or better after all this time.
She wouldn’t deserve to be in Chevalerie any more than she did when she had shamed herself the first time.
Plus, being that close and knowing his comings and goings—what he was doing, who he was with—she couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t humiliate herself again.
She had to face it. He would always make her weak.
She followed the walls and ridges of the cave intently.
Something caught her eye and interrupted her thoughts.
She stopped, holding up her hand to signal the rest of her part.
“Wait,” she whispered. She crouched forward to examine a marking in the stone.
It was just below her waist and tucked into a recess.
If she hadn’t been scanning the cave walls, she would have missed it.
Three deep cuts, a few centimeters long, ran parallel to each other, creating white lines on the black stone.
She ran her fingers over them. “This means something,” she said. “But I don’t know what.”
“A trap?” Philippe asked, scanning up ahead.
She turned to him, working it out in her head. “They must have known we were coming.”
They stared at each other for a moment in the firelight. Alex spun the ramifications in her mind, and Philippe looked to be doing the same, his eyes filled with contemplation. The answer was there. They just had to work it out.
“Why a trap so deep? Why not at the entrance?” he asked.
“They were rushed,” she said. “The trail shows they were trying to get away.”
“Then it’s not a trap,” he said, still watching her.
“It’s a sign,” she replied, catching his meaning. “Something is hidden.”
“Something that can identify them,” he said.
“That they want to come back for later. After we’ve left.”
“So they’ve already gone,” he said, glaring into the dark.
The men had been watching the two of them agog, heads swinging back and forth. Alex could have laughed at their expressions if she hadn’t been so frustrated by the conclusion she had just reached with Philippe.
“Step carefully, men,” Philippe said. “We have to figure out what this is.”
No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than Sébastien stepped forward, hit a loose rock on the ground and tumbled forward.
He fell against an indentation in the wall opposite the markings, releasing a sudden cascade of stones that poured out of the crevice like an angry river.
Before she knew what was happening, Philippe had grabbed her by the back of the shirt and thrown her out of the way.
Alex stumbled back, crashing to the ground, while the rocks pelted the rest of the men.
Dirt and debris filled their eyes and lungs while glowing torches gave no more light than embers in the sand.
The men, full of fresh cuts and bruises, waved through the heavy air and hurriedly pulled Sébastien from the rubble.
He grimaced, and closer inspection revealed a nasty gash across his middle.
“I can go forward,” he said to Philippe through a wince.
Philippe pressed against the blood while Laurent ripped a cloth to tie off the wound.
“Take a second and see how you feel,” Philippe said.
The dust was settling by then, and they could see now what the rocks had been hiding.
A shallow cavern had been sealed up, but the avalanche had opened it.
Philippe stepped forward, kicking several rocks aside.
By his torchlight, Alex could see the loot, tokens they had acquired in their ransacks.
Copper pots, farm tools, a few handfuls of coins.
Somewhat valuable items, but certainly not enough riches to warrant the attacks.
There was more to the attacks than the plunder.
“Such a strange assortment.” Philippe waved the torch and leaned towards a large silver platter, revealing the markings of Peillon. He ran his hands over it, and Alex knew he was thinking hard.
“Are we going to continue forward?” asked Laurent.
“Yes,” said Philippe. “But they’re not here.”
“How do you know?” asked Maurice.
“This is just a hasty attempt to hide their presence,” Philippe responded. “Or perhaps to slow us down.” He combed through the pile of rocks then picked one up. He pelted it down the corridor. “Merde!” he said as it clattered in the dark.
“Then they are on the defensive,” said Laurent. “And the attacks will stop. We are in pursuit. We just need patience.”
“Alex,” Philippe said gruffly. “How far to the cavern?”
She perked up, ready for service, “We are near the end of this path,” she said. “Perhaps ten minutes ahead.”
Philippe paced, his frustration obvious. “We will go to the cavern and finish what we have come for. Perhaps they’ve left something of importance.” He turned to Alex again. “Are there any more forks in the path?” he asked.
“I believe it is relatively straight from here,” she said.
He turned and held his torch to the markings carved into the wall. He examined and touched it. “This may not be the only hoard,” he said. “Step carefully from here on out. It was sheer luck we caught this warning here.”
It wasn’t luck, Alex thought. It was her.
“We are down a man, two because someone must stay with him,” said Laurent.
“I am fine,” Sébastien said.
But Philippe shook his head. “It may be for the best,” said Philippe.
“We will be less cumbersome with fewer people.” He folded his arms and looked down in thought, his expression barely visible in the torch light, but to Alex his deliberation was captivating.
She watched him closely, as she had when he matched wits with the Marquis the night before at dinner.
He made decisions like he fought: fast, potent, and always sure.
They may have lost their targets, but she now trusted him, as a leader, to put them on the path towards these men once more, and she felt a swell of pride and gratitude for being under such capable command.
“Alex,” he said, snapping her to attention, “I will need you to stay here with Sébastien. The rest of us will move forward.”
“Me?” she croaked. That’s not what she expected.
“If the path is straight, there is no further need for your skills.” He looked at her through the firelight. “And no need to put you in danger.” He turned. “Move out, men,” he said before she could protest.
She stared at the men, stunned into silence.
Had she just made herself disposable? Did he realize the skill and instinct involved in getting them this deep into the mountain, or had she made it look like anyone could have led them there?
No one wanted to miss the chance to see the spot from which the crimes spawned, but she most of all deserved to be at the front of the line.
And, she thought darkly, the parallels she was drawing coming all too fast, if they were done with the caves, was he done with her?
The men passed by her. “Watch out for snakes,” she called after them before turning grimly to Sébastien, who, in a panic, began checking the cuffs of his pants.