Kaelin laughed. "Of course you are there".
He flipped the spine of the devise and turned the bolt. The snare folded into the bone, vanishing into the hollow. "It catches a foot," he said. "Or a pride."
Clayton raised a brow.
Kaelin smirked. "It locks around a limb, tight and quiet, and ties the limb to the nearest anchor point. A hinge, a handle, a wrist of a friend," he grinned. "It can tie an enemy to an enemy, it can tie an enemy to a door he didn't see, and it can tie me to the right place to climb."
"Useful," Clayton said.
"I know," Kaelin said, pleased. Then he sobered. "You'll take me, right?"
Clayton did not answer.
Kaelin chuckled and nodded as if he had. "Good, I know the shape of that place in your head. It does not like straight lines, it likes seams, and I live in seams."
"You also leave them," Clayton said.
Kaelin's mouth quirked. "Not this time."
Kaelin was the angle; he was also the jolt of humor that made fear blink.
