Showing posts with label Deleted Scene. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Deleted Scene. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 17, 2020

First Drafts and Distractions

The world is a weird place right now. Honestly, it feels like I'm watching the start of a movie thriller, only this is reality and not fiction.

 In my area, they've closed bars and restaurants and are recommending people stay at home as much as possible. My husband is now working from home and we've made two runs to the grocery store for essential items.

A few years ago my introverted self would have grabbed hold of the prospect of not leaving my house for several weeks and rejoiced, seeing it as an endless opportunity to watch anime and read books. The current version of myself, the one who already spends copious amounts of time alone except for a couple of cats is looking at the yawning span of isolation and hoping she doesn't go stir crazy.

At the moment, I don't have time to create a full short story since I'm in the final scenes of Aileen 5, but I wanted to offer a short respite from the outside world.

Below is a short, deleted scene from Age of Deception. It is an alternate version of how Kira learns where Jin has gone when he was supposed to be safe in her room. Hopefully when I finish the current book, I can take a short break and write something for the blog. Maybe a Fallon POV or something set in Aileen's world.

Until then, I hope you enjoy.

Deleted Scene

“Jin,” Kira hissed in a low voice.

Not low enough as several people looked in her direction. Great she’d drawn notice because she was acting like a crazy person.

“Kira,” Jin sounded groggy and confused.

Kira released the breath she’d been holding. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying you for the last twenty minutes.”

“I--” There was a long pause.

Kira got moving again, this time careful to keep to a sedate pace. She glanced around her noticing as Devon and Rheya seemed to shadow her on the other side of the hallway.

Were they following her? If so, they weren’t doing a very good job. They were much too young to be playing these games.

“Uh oh.” Jin's guilt and panic were unmistakable.

Kira felt her stomach drop.“Uh oh? What uh oh? There should be no 'uh oh' if you’re safe in the room which is where you're supposed to be."

“Yeah, about that," he started.

“Nope, nope, nope." She shook her head. She refused to hear what he was about to say. He was safe in the room and that was all there was to it.

Devon and Rheya veered toward her, no doubt drawn by her sketchy behavior. She watched them come with gritted teeth. As if she didn't have enough problems already.

“You can deny all you want. It doesn’t change the facts,” Jin pointed out in a pragmatic voice that made her want to scream.

“Where are you?” she snapped, picking up her pace. Maybe if she moved faster they wouldn't stop her.

She really didn’t need anyone taking an interest while she was having a mild panic attack.

Moving briskly without giving the appearance of fleeing was difficult. She had a feeling she wasn't entirely successful either.

Two other Tuann that she recognized from Joule’s training class started in her direction.

Damn. Things just kept getting worse and worse.

“You know that place on Ta Da’an they call the Nexus?"

Kira sucked in a sharp breath. No--even Jin couldn’t be that stupid.

“Well--I wanted to see if there was anything like that here.”

She resisted the urge to bang her head on the nearest wall. "Get out. Get out now."

“I can’t; I’m stuck.” The confession seemed ripped from him.

A high pitched noise escaped her. This was a nightmare. An awful, awful nightmare.

Devon and Rheya stopped in front of her, blocking her path. "We need to talk."

Monday, October 1, 2018

Destruction's Ascent Deleted Scene

This past weekend I worked a little bit in Dragon 4. Every time I start a new book in a series, I always go back and reread the last one. There are a variety of reasons for that. Among them is that it helps me recapture the voice of my main character, and it reminds me of all the ideas that didn't quite make it into the last book. 

In doing that, I remembered a scene I deleted. I meant to share it after Destruction's Ascent came out but forgot (another reason I have to reread the last book--my memory is terrible).

I thought sharing that scene with you would be a nice way to start the week. It's an alternative version of how the group got to the Little Harbor Marketplace to meet Daisy.  Enjoy.

Deleted Scene

Tate waited in front of a large iron wrought gate and eyed the monstrosity it protected with a conflicted expression that edged towards distaste. While the house behind its barrier wasn’t really that hideous, it was the complete opposite of anything she’d planned to live in. It was huge and overdone, lacking any class while trying to make up for that lack by going as big and bold as it could. She knew the area was considered a place for the newly rich and as such lacked the elegant taste of the older sections of the city.

When the solicitor they’d enlisted to help them recommended it, they’d been hesitant but willing to try since it was in a more desirable section of the city. It was close to the hill leading to the Lower, but far enough away to be considered respectable among the crowd she was now expected to rub elbows with.

Though, if this was what they considered acceptable, she might need to rethink how much she wanted to blend. She much preferred her quarters at Colton’s Place over this. They were simple and sparse and easy to keep clean. This—this would be a nightmare to manage.

Two women walked up on her other side and Tate stepped back to let them precede her onto the property. The woman closer to her made a sound of recognition and stepped back. “Lady Fisher, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Tate blinked at the woman, recognition slow to come. After a long moment, she said, “Lady Spiritly, I could say the same.”

Roslyn was dressed simply, her clothes having seen better days and her hair pulled back off her face in a simple knot. She had a look in her eyes that hadn’t been there the last time Tate had seen her, shortly after she disowned her connection with her family. It was the kind of look that said she hadn’t had an easy time of it, that the world was a much less kind place than she had thought.

Roslyn looked discomforted. “It’s just Roslyn now.”

Tate didn’t know how to respond to that and looked at Roslyn’s companion, a woman with ash blond hair and a protective look on her face. “Ashwin, right?” Tate said.

Ashwin nodded and dipped a slight curtsy.

There was an awkward pause. Tate didn’t know how to speak to Roslyn, given their history. While Roslyn wasn’t at fault for much of what had gone before, she was forever associated with it in Tate’s memory. At the same time, Tate felt partially responsible for her fall from grace. It put her in an odd predicament.

“You’re looking at this place to rent?” Roslyn said, saving Tate from herself.

“Ah, yes.” Tate glanced back at the monstrosity and inwardly cringed. It hadn’t gotten any better in the time since they’d started talking.

Roslyn’s face turned thoughtful, some of her uneasiness from before fading. “That’s surprising. It would be wiser to buy. It’s more affordable than renting, and you won’t be limited to such interesting quarters.”

Tate didn’t want to admit she didn’t have the funds to buy a place outright. Not in the Upper at least. She might be drawing a regular stipend now that she was part of the dragon corps, but it would take time to accrue.

She nodded to show she was listening before switching the subject. “Are you in the area to look at rentals as well?”

Roslyn gave a strained smile and lifted her chin. “No, I’m actually here for a different purpose.”

Tate waited assuming she’d share, but another awkward pause ensued.

Before she could come up with some social nicety, the gate swung open and Dewdrop and Night stalked out. “Tate, thank the Saviors you’re here. That man is a flaming flibberidgit.”

The sound of rushed footsteps on the cobblestones came from behind the two as a man dressed in all purple wearing an absurd colored wig and a hat that looked like something out of a child’s fantasy rushed into view. “Lady Fisher, Lady Fisher, I really must protest my treatment at the hands of these two incompetents. This is really too much.”

“Oh boy,” Tate turned to face the trio as they approached rapidly. Roslyn and Ashwin looked intrigued by the proceedings.

The man stopped beside the gate, resting one hand against it as he caught his breath. He withdrew a lilac handkerchief and pressed it against his mouth as he glared at Tate’s friends.

“When you asked me to help you in this matter, I thought I would gain a certain cachet assisting the only female dragon to live through the bonding.” His voice was light and effeminate, making it hard to take him seriously. Dewdrop snickered, hiding his laugh when Tate sent him a quelling glance.

“That still holds true, Pepper,” Tate said, trying to sooth the man’s ruffled feathers. It was obvious something had happened and she had no doubt the instigators were standing next to her with innocent expressions on their faces. Dewdrop looked amused while Night seemed irate, his eyes narrowed as his tail thumped the ground at her feet.

She hoped Pepper didn’t try to get close to her feline friend. The mood he was in, he was liable to try sharpening his claws on the other man.

Pepper straightened, looking down his nose at her as he flapped his handkerchief at Dewdrop and Night. “I simply cannot continue as I have been. If I am to continue to work with you, your servant and pet will need to be kept in line. It would be best if they were excluded from the process entirely.”

Tate took a deep breath, counseling herself to patience. Pepper was one of the few willing to take her and her ragtag band on. He had connections none of them had. Losing his help would put her in a bind unless she planned to be homeless in a few short weeks.

“I have told you before—Dewdrop and Night are not servants, nor are they pets. They are valued members of my household. Family, if you prefer. I’ve asked you to treat them as such.” On this, she wouldn’t budge.

He squawked and huffed. Tate waited him out, knowing it might take a few minutes. They’d had this exact conversation twice before. She turned her attention to the other two.

“What happened?” She gave them a hard look, letting them know she wasn’t in the mood for games.

Dewdrop jerked his thumb at Pepper. “He showed us to the servant quarters in the basement and told us the rooms there were too good for the likes of a guttersnipe and animal but if ‘Lady Fisher insisted on collecting strays, this would be at least passing respectable.’” Dewdrop’s voice adopted a high sound as he mocked Peppers voice. It was a spot-on imitation and Tate struggled to keep her amusement contained. He needed no further encouragement.

“I don’t sound like that,” Pepper hissed.

“And?” She knew that wasn’t the end of it.

Night’s whiskers twitched, pointing forward. We showed him what a pet and guttersnipe were capable of.

That couldn’t be good. “And how exactly did you do that?”

Dewdrop shrugged. “Called him an ass. Then Night jumped on top of one of the ugly chandeliers.”

“That was a hundred-year-old crystal balleski. They don’t make them like that anymore.” Pepper’s voice was outraged.

“For good reason,” Dewdrop muttered.

Roslyn smothered a laugh. Her face was smooth and blank when Tate looked back at her. She would have thought she’d imagined the sound if not for the faintest trace of amusement around her eyes.

“What am I going to tell the owners?” Pepper asked, his voice aggrieved. “This is a disaster.”

She eyed the other man. “There’s no reason to tell them anything. It’s a chandelier and I doubt Night left any marks on it.”

“There are pawprints all over the house,” Pepper accused in a shrill voice.

“You should be thanking him for dusting,” Dewdrop stated. “That chandelier was filthy.”

There was a snort behind Tate. Ashwin looked outright amused and Roslyn looked like she was losing the battle.

Pepper made an inarticulate sound of rage and threw his handkerchief at the ground at Dewdrop’s feet. They all looked at the crumpled purple square.

“I’ve had it. I won’t work with a thief and animal any longer. Either you get rid of them or I quit,” Pepper declared.

Tate scratched her neck, her gaze going past him to stare at the house. “I guess our association is at an end then.”

Pepper gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing as his face turned nearly the same shade as his coat. “Well, then.” He jerked hard on his coat, straightening it. “Your companions speak to your upbringing, my lady. I’d think long and hard who you spend time with.” He minced past Tate.

She let him go. There were a lot of things she could say back to him, but she thought it best to let him have the final words. His pride had already taken enough of a beating.

“Bye, you insufferable prick,” Dewdrop waved at his back. “Don’t come back now.”

Good riddance, Night declared when he was out of sight.

Tate sighed and gave them both a disappointed look. “That could have gone better.”

Dewdrop shrugged. “It was bound to happen at some point. The stick was shoved too far up his ass to make this work.”

“Now, what are we going to do about a house?” Tate complained. “He was the only one willing to work with us given our reputation.”

She could feel a headache brewing.

“Roslyn can help,” Ashwin said, stepping forward, her eyes determined. “She’ll do it for half what you were going to pay him.”

Roslyn looked startled at her friend’s words, her eyes widening as she found herself the sudden center of attention.

“Her connections are just as good and she knows the city,” Ashwin said.

Dewdrop gave them a skeptical look. “Has she ever rented a house for someone before?”

Ashwin hesitated, her expression torn.

Roslyn met Tate’s gaze with a poised expression. “I have. I used to find places for visiting friends of my father when they came into the city. I’ve also made travel arrangements on their behalf as well. It was an expected function as the daughter of a noble house. He thought it would be good training for the future.”

What she didn’t say was that future was now gone. When she’d disavowed her house, she’d broken with any privilege or power that might have been hers simply because of the name she carried.

“That might work,” Tate said. If she could find them a place, it would make things a lot easier on Tate.

“I would just need to know your requirements,” Roslyn said, her voice soft and unsure.

“Tate, a word,” Dewdrop said as he eyed Roslyn with suspicion. She sighed as he gestured her towards the gate.

“What is it?”

“You can’t just accept help from some stranger on the street,” Dewdrop said.

“Why not?” Tate didn’t see what difference it made. “Roslyn isn’t exactly a stranger either.”

“She might as well be,” Dewdrop returned. “Her father had us kidnapped. She’s probably just like him.”

“That’s overstating things a bit,” Tate said. “Besides, who are we to judge someone by what their family has done?”

He looked away, his expression chastened.

Night watched the two of them, his ears flicking. I don’t see how this is any different than how she met either of us. I vote let the woman try. Done with the conversation, he ambled off.

Tate waited, knowing if she pushed he’d shut down.

Dewdrop threw up his hands. “Fine. I know when I’m out voted. Trust the Lady.” He put a derisive twist on the word ‘lady’. He’d made his feelings on the nobility obvious on more than one occasion. She was starting to think there was history there and made a note to ask him about it later when he wasn’t already worked up. “See how far that gets you.”

He stuffed his hands in his pocket and shuffled after Night. To Roslyn, he said, “Don’t think this means we trust you. Cause we don’t.”

Her face turned dismayed as he stalked past her.

Tate gave her a stiff smile. “As you can see, you’ve got the job.”

A smile grew on her face, at odds with the normal austere expression she showed the world. Ashwin clapped and touched Roslyn on the shoulder in support.

“You won’t regret this,” Roslyn told Tate.

“I certainly hope not,” she replied. It wasn’t like she had a lot of options at this point anyway.

“When are you hoping to move in by?” Roslyn asked, visibly gaining control of herself.

“Well, we’ve been told we need to be out of our current apartments by the end of the month. So, some time before then.”

Roslyn looked taken aback. “That’s in two weeks.”

“Yup.”

The news seemed to take some of the happiness out of her sails. Even Ashwin stared at Tate like she had two heads.

“Is there a problem with that deadline?” Tate asked.

Roslyn shook her head, the motion emphatic. “No, no. No problem. I’ll do it.”

Tate gave her a sharp smile, wondering if she was regretting volunteering yet. “You can send word to Colton’s Place when you have something for me to see.”

Tate gave the two of them an abrupt nod before setting off after her friends. The two of them would leave her behind in a hot minute if she took much longer. Her stomach grumbled letting her know it was long past lunch time. Scratch that, she’d leave them behind if she didn’t get some food into her pronto.

“Come on. Let’s go get some food,” Tate told Dewdrop and Night when she caught up to them.

“We’ve already ate.”

Tate gave him a considering look. Seemed someone wasn’t quite over their sulking yet.

“We can go to that meat pie seller in the Little Market,” Tate said with a sly smile. “The one next to the flower cart.”

Dewdrop twitched, his hands dropping to his sides. He tried to play it cool. “I suppose if you pay for us, there’s no harm eating a second meal.”

Tate smirked, knowing she had him. “It’s settled then. We’ll head to the Lower for food.”

Dewdrop came to a stop realizing how she’d played him. Night huffed, his version of a laugh as he sauntered by him.

“You won’t always get your way, you know,” Dewdrop shouted after them.

“Give it up, kid. I’m just cagier than you,” Tate said over her shoulder. He grumbled as he trailed in their wake.

Monday, July 3, 2017

Pathfinder's Way - Deleted Scene

As I near the end stage of Pathfinder 2, I'm reminded more and more why it took me over two years to write the first book. As much as I love Pathfinder's Way-and I do love that book-it was an absolute bear to write. It's impossible to make Fallon and Shea do anything. Reasoning with them is like talking to a brick wall. In the end, it's pointless and I just end up bruised and a little bloody. Their story loops and twists back on itself. Just when I think I've got a handle on things Shea does a 180 and totally mucks up what I have planned. For this reason, I'm left having to trim unnecessary scenes during the editing process. Something that I already know will happen with the current book as well.

Since I'm busy finishing up the first draft, I thought I'd share one of those deleted scenes with you. Be warned, they're kind of rough as I never really fully edited them. This scene takes place once Shea has escaped Fallon by climbing up the canyon wall and before she met up with Witt and Dane during that first mission.

Deleted Scene



With a grunt she pulled herself to the top and stood to slap away the dirt that had accumulated on her hands and arms. A rip had opened in her pants from when she had slid coming up that last little bit. She shook her pant leg trying to dislodge some of the dirt lodged there before giving it up as a lost cause. She was just going to have to resign herself to being filthy for the time being.

She began following the meandering path of the canyon in the general direction of the rendezvous. It would be nearly a day’s walk because of the detour they’d taken to the badlands. There were two paths she could take back. She could cut across the badlands and head directly towards the highlands or she could find her way back out the way they had come and walk across the lowlands until she found a way back up to the highlands.

She didn’t like the idea of heading back to the lowlands where possibly bloodthirsty villagers waited. Alone she would be easy pickings and without a horse she’d be easy to catch.

Badlands it was then.

Following the canyon was easy until it started branching. Eventually she found that she needed to get to the other side but didn’t want to go back down into the canyon.

Beasts often made their nests in the walls or caves down there and it was easy to get bottle necked. The bluffs had their dangers too with raptors that were twice a man’s size waiting to swoop down on potential prey. They could plummet silently from the sky right onto their clueless prey in seconds-the only warning the growing shadow on the ground. Shea knew, though, that it was mating season for them and most wouldn’t think about food until afterwards. She felt relatively comfortable with the risk.

Before long she found a tree that had grown sideways across the canyon expanse, nearly reaching the other side. Its roots were exposed at the top, bending in sleek arcs to grasp at the soil below. The trunk was three times wider than her and her arms didn’t even come close to being able to touch around it. She knew because she tried. The branches were a mess of snarls reaching for the other side. Most were too thin to support her weight but right in the middle of the mess was one that looked thick enough that maybe she could use it to cross.

She braced her legs and pushed against the tree with all her might trying to dislodge it from the soil. It didn’t move. Not a centimeter.

She relaxed and eyed it carefully and then edged to look down the cliff. The canyon floor was a pretty fair distance below and judging by all the rocks there wouldn’t be a safe place to land if she fell.

Edging closer to the tree she set one foot on an up thrust root, reached up to grab a knot in the wood and hoisted herself up, stilling when it creaked under her. When it became apparent she wasn’t going to fall immediately to her death, she inched further up using the tree’s branches as handholds. Once up into the tree, she bounced lightly on the thick branch she was counting on to carry her across. It shook under her but seemed like it would support her weight.

Shea took a deep breath as she stared over the canyon’s expanse, her view blocked partially by the twisty limbs of the trees. The ground seemed even farther away now that she was up here, but she tried not to let that bother her as she took a step away from the tree, using the other branches to balance. The limb she was walking across was as thick as her head but that would mean next to nothing if insects had eaten away at its core, leaving it hollow inside. If that was the case, she would crash to what she hoped was her immediate death. If not she might have to lie around with her arms, legs or back broken as she waited for the elements or the beasts to kill her off. Whichever got to her first. Of course she hoped neither of those options happened. Getting across the canyon safely was her deepest wish at this point.

By now she was over half way across the canyon and was running out of tree branches to grip. At least ones that didn’t break immediately the second she closed her fist around them.

Shea bent down wrapping her hands around the limb that swayed unsteadily under her at her movement. She scooted forward, her breath catching in her throat as the branch creaked ominously.

“Fuuck,” she breathed.

Biting her lip, she moved forward again feeling her stomach plummet as the limb bent slightly under her.

Perhaps this hadn’t been her best idea after all. She probably should have found another, safer, way across. As usual though she’d let her impatience get the best of her. Thinking she knew best and had calculated the risks she took a chance that left her suspended nearly a hundred feet over a canyon on a tree branch that could collapse under her at any moment.

“This is definitely what the elders were talking about when they said you leapt without thinking,” she groused to herself.

That very trait was probably a contributing factor in why she had been assigned to Birdon Leaf despite the fact that she was one of the most highly trained master guides in her age group or any age group for that matter.

She eyed the distance to the other side. Five feet. Not too bad. Better than the ten feet she’d have to traverse heading back the other way. In another two to three feet she’d run out of branch and she’d have to jump. But she’d jumped distances farther than that before. She could do it again.

One thing was certain; she had no intention of plummeting to her death. She wouldn’t give the elders the satisfaction of that death. No. She was going to prove every last one of them who thought she didn’t belong in this life wrong. That meant she needed to get moving and stop wasting time sitting on this branch being terrified out of her mind that she’d fall.

Something brushed against her hand and her pep talk came to a screeching halt. She held herself very still as she looked down because too much movement might upset the branch.

She felt physically ill at the sight of the small brown insect with ten legs crawling over the top of her hand. It was about the width of her thumb and only slightly bigger than her fingernail. Against the pale skin of her hand it stood out, but against the bark of the tree it had blended right in. Its butt ended in a sharp point that held a stinger filled with a poison that could cause massive hallucinations. If the victim got a high enough dose of venom, it could lead to a painful death.

It was a reardown, so named for the fact that it would rear back on its legs as a sign of aggression right before it sank that stinger into its prey. Its stomach had a hard outer shell that protected it from attacks.

This one was a baby. They could get as big as Shea’s hand and the adults were twice as deadly. But where there was one baby there were bound to be more.

Her body held as still as possible, Shea looked around her and nearly whimpered at the sight. She would like to say she could hear the insects’ legs skittering as they approached her but they were silent and trees branches creaking as the wind rushed through it made a sound.

Keeping the hand with the reardown very, very still, Shea got her feet under her, freezing any time the little insect moved.

Her gaze darted to the other side of the canyon. With the reardown making their way down the tree branch behind her, her only other option was to make that jump. And make it fast.

She lifted her other hand slowly, so slowly, and flicked the reardown up and off her hand, surging to her feet and running for the end of the branch. It cracked under her and shifted as her weight became too much.. She didn’t hesitate as she hit the end and leapt, trusting herself to reach the other side. And she did. But barely.

She crashed down, only one foot landing on the ground. The other hit the rim of the canyon and she started to slide back. She threw herself forward at the last moment and clawed her way onto safe ground.

Shea panted into the dirt, hardly believing she had made it safely. A glance behind showed the branch had been broken halfway by her leap and was held to the rest of the tree by only the slimmest of slivers.

A sharp pinch on her arm interrupted her moment of triumph and she jerked and slapped at it.  A reardon fell to the ground, but the damage had already been done. A spot where the stinger had penetrated the skin on her forearm was already turning red.

Shea popped to her feet and shook herself free of her jacket, dropping it the ground and stomping on it. She shook her entire body wildly, hoping to dislodge any other hanger ons. Once she had assured herself she had no other passengers, she picked up her jacket and shook it wildly, beating it on the ground a few times for good measure. Afterwards she donned it and pushed up the sleeve to look at the reardon sting.

This was not good. Not good at all. Worry had already set in and panic wouldn’t be far behind. Shea shut her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, bringing it under control with an effort. Panic wouldn’t help. If anything, the elevated heart rate and breathing would spread the toxin quicker, which was the last thing she could afford.

The reardon had been a baby so maybe it wasn’t as poisonous as an adult, though judging by the spreading angry red lines around the site of the sting, she had a bad feeling that wasn’t the case.

There came the panic again. She allowed herself a moment to worry about what was to come before pushing it firmly back out of her mind. Those thoughts weren’t helpful. She needed to concentrate.

Even if it was as potent as an adult, it wouldn’t kill her. It might fuck up her mind for a little bit, disorient her until she walked into a crevasse by mistake and seriously lower her awareness of her surroundings, but the poison itself wouldn’t kill her.

Time to get moving again, then. She needed to cover as much ground as she could while she was still able to function. At the very least she could find cover to wait for the toxin to work itself through her system.

Her lips were set in a grim line and worry had drawn the skin tight on her face as she changed course slightly to cut directly through the badlands to the meeting place in the highlands. Originally she had planned to follow the edge of the lowlands until she reached the highlands before cutting over to the rendezvous point. It was a longer route admittedly, but safer. Now she was taking the most direct path possible and praying she made it.

It was a long journey, one that took every ounce of strength and will Shea possessed. More than once she found herself having to argue herself into taking another step. At one point she thought the rocks were moving, scooting along the ground beside her and leaving grooves in the dirt behind them. Trees made thin by the climate grew to humongous proportions before shifting color and eventually melting away.

As she walked she became increasingly delirious but convinced if she stopped she’d die. Ghostly arms grew from the ground grasping at her feet causing her to stumble at times. Their hands soon became claws as they tried to keep her there.

Caught in her nightmare, Shea stumbled into the rendezvous point and collapsed shaking to the ground. Witt and Dane rushed to her side as she crumpled.

“Shea,” Dane whispered, shocked at how pale she seemed and the slightly manic look in her eyes.

Witt was already checking her arms and any reachable skin for marks. He hissed when he found the raised golf ball sized welt.

“She’s been bitten or stung,” he told Dane grimly.

“Can’t- can’t stop,” Shea struggled to stand, grasping onto Dane’s shirt weakly.

The two held her down. Dane’s eyes met Witt’s as he asked, “Do you have any idea what stung her?”

Witt shook his head. “Could have been any number of things?”

“Deadly?"

Witt’s mouth was tight as he said softly, “Probably."

“Shit.”

“Can’t stop walking,” Shea whispered her eyes darting around in panic.

“Shh. You’ll be fine.” Witt’s hand felt cool on Shea’s forehead. “Can you tell us what bit you?”

She stared into his eyes, trying to concentrate, to remember. Her legs moved restlessly as he repeated the question.

The fog cleared for a moment and she gasped, “Reardon.”

The elders were never going to let her live this down was her last coherent thought as her body abruptly relaxed and her consciousness started to fade. Witt shouting instructions was the last thing she saw as the world faded leaving her alone with her nightmares.