Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2)

But a bigger part of her questioned why this was happening at all. First, she’d run afoul of the frostlings, a being not seen since the last cataclysm, that had killed several while putting the rest of the expedition to sleep. Now this, an event that hadn’t been seen in these parts for several generations. Something was wrong in the Broken Lands. Something dark and dangerous.

It could be that this was some freak occurrence. That the mist, the frostlings, and others of its ilk wouldn’t be a concern in the future. A sinking feeling in the pit of Shea’s stomach said that would be a false assumption. She had a feeling all of these events were symptoms of a bigger problem. She just didn’t know what.

“Fallon, the men are eager to keep moving. Being this close to the mist’s edge makes them antsy. I can’t say that I blame them,” Braden said from behind them.

Shea turned. Braden’s gaze was fastened entirely on Fallon, never once straying to Shea.

“We’ll be underway in a few minutes. Prepare them for movement,” Fallon said.

Braden gave a nod of acknowledgement. He turned and walked away without once glancing at Shea.

“Who is he?” Shea asked.

“He’s the general of my forces in the south. I thought it would be good to have him accompany me back to the main camp. He had some interesting insights that I wanted him to share with some of my other top officials.”

If he was in the south, Shea had to wonder if he’d been in charge of one of the city states and the surrounding territory.

“He doesn’t seem to like me,” she observed in a neutral voice.

Fallon didn’t bother trying to convince her otherwise. She knew he’d seen what she had and wouldn’t waste time denying the obvious.

“He doesn’t like change. He’s a good man and a better general. He’ll see your good points soon enough.”

Shea cut a glance to Fallon, letting him know she wasn’t holding out much hope.

He chuckled. “I have faith in you both.”

She snorted and walked away. “Fat lot of good that’s going to do me in the meantime.”

He followed her. “As if you really care what anybody else thinks.”

Shea had to give him that. At the end of the day she didn’t really care what the general thought of her. It would be nice if he was cordial, but it wasn’t a requirement.

Fallon’s men were preparing the horses. There weren’t enough for everyone to ride, since they hadn’t been able to tie all of the horses onto leads before the mist separated them. They’d only saved about a quarter of them.

Shea knew that had to hurt. Being a migratory people, the Trateri tended to form strong bonds with the horses they owned. For them, a horse thief was treated to an even harsher penalty than a murderer. It had taken getting used to when Shea first joined them; her people relied mostly on their own two feet for transport since the Highlands were often too mountainous to take horses in many places.

After some discussion, it was decided that several of the Trateri would take the horses and ride ahead and report in. They’d come back with mounts for the rest of the group.

Shea planned to stay with the group who were walking. She had no desire to rush back to camp. The walk would do her good and give her a way to work through some of her restlessness. She didn’t know how she was going to explain that to Fallon though.

Under normal circumstances she’d just inform him of what she planned to do then do it regardless of his objections. With the general and his men here, none of whom were familiar with her, she didn’t want to start something that might have consequences for herself and Fallon later.

He caught the reins someone tossed him and gestured for her to mount. She sighed. She should have broached this subject with him while they were talking earlier. Now she had to make a stand in front of these people while making it look like she hadn’t challenged his authority.

She stepped up to him, placing one hand on the horse’s neck. “I need to stay here.”

Fallon was quiet as he studied her with an implacable impression, the mask she associated with the warlord falling into place.

“You need, or you want?”

“Both.” Lying wouldn’t help her cause and he knew her well enough by now to understand her tells.

“Explain.” She could tell by the set cant of his mouth that he wasn’t happy with her choice. She was surprised he hadn’t already tried to order her on the horse. He was the warlord, more comfortable with orders than listening.

She petted the mane of the horse trying to find the right words for what she needed.

“I left Eamon and Buck behind so I could find you.” She didn’t look up at him as she made that statement. “They knew there was no other choice if I was going to reach you in time, but I can’t leave without at least trying to find them.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

She shrugged. To tell the truth, she hadn’t gotten that far. She just knew she wasn’t ready to go back to camp and looking for Eamon and Buck was as good an excuse as any. More so because it was true.

It felt wrong to leave them behind without at least trying to look for them, even if she had little hope of finding them.

“You’re not going back into the mist.” The words were an order, an implacable will behind them, letting her know that he wasn’t going to even consider that option.

Her eyes rose to his in surprise. He didn’t look expressionless now, his face filled with anger and a stubbornness that would outlast even hers. The part that caught her and made her unable to respond in a manner she normally would have was the glimpse of fear behind it all. A fear that reached out and struck her in the chest, leaving her with an inescapable feeling of doom.

“I didn’t plan to,” she said honestly. If they were in the mist, there wasn’t anything she could do for them. She was close with Eamon and Buck, but they didn’t have the depth of connection that she had with Fallon. There would be no following that connection to them.

His shoulders loosened and relaxed, as if a great weight had been removed from them. Her hand covered his. She knew he had a problem with the idea of her in danger. It was the biggest source of disagreement in their relationship and one they had made no headway in solving, since neither of them were willing to bend or compromise. A small part of Shea feared what would happen if they didn’t find a middle ground.

“If that’s not the case, why stay behind? You’ve already said that we came out of the mist in a different part of the forest. They could have as well.”

That was true. It didn’t stop her from worrying though. It was a feeling that would stick with her until she had proof they’d survived and made it out of the mist. She went back to petting the horse.

He waited a moment before asking, “Were they able to keep hold of their horses?”

She nodded. Yes, Eamon had gotten the last one on the lead before the mist descended.

“If they came out of it, they would head straight to camp knowing that they would have difficulty finding us out here.”

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