Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands Book 2)

by T. A. White

  Eckbert shrugged. “We assumed he was seeking an alliance with your people much as we have. The Telroi was once a pathfinder. It is not outside the realm of possibility that the pathfinders would want to assure themselves of her health. It’s our understanding that they take the continued well-being of their people very seriously no matter how far they stray.”

  Shea shifted uncomfortably. That was very true and might have been the case had she not fully aligned herself with the Trateri. Now, she doubted they would shed a tear if she was to meet with an unexpected ending.

  “Yes, we had no idea you would have such an extreme reaction to the pathfinder’s presence.” Ilyra managed to sound both mildly reproachful and respectful at the same time.

  Fallon studied them under veiled eyes, his expression not giving away any of his thoughts. Shea held her breath.

  “Very well,” he said at last. “Your explanation is reasonable. I believe you did not know of our feelings on this particular pathfinder and did not mean any harm in your actions.”

  Shea released a breath.

  “That still does not negate the fact that a potential enemy got so close. Darius and several of my men will take up residence in your village to keep something of this nature from happening again.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Ilyra asked. She seemed concerned at the thought of a squad of Trateri soldiers moving in for the foreseeable future.

  “It is as much for your protection as ours. I had not considered the possibility that my enemies might latch on to you as an avenue to infiltrate my ranks or use your home as a platform to launch an attack from above. I will take steps to correct that oversight.”

  Eckbert cackled. “Too true. I will have our people prepare a place for them to sleep. Perhaps some of your men will like to visit the oasis with our women.”

  Ilyra gave him a disgusted look before casting her eyes up to the ceiling with a beleaguered expression. “Our women aren’t broodmares for you to trot out to tempt men with, you old fool.”

  Eckbert looked affronted. “I never said they were, but if the opportunity presents itself and the two parties would like a little alone time, I’m not one to stop them.”

  Chirron and Van looked a little startled at the exchange, neither one looking like they believed what they were hearing. Even Shea was a bit startled at the extent of Eckbert’s desire to see the women of his village impregnated. It just wasn’t a view typical to the Lowlands where they guarded their women’s virtue with a rigorous zealotry. They treated them by turns like precious treasure or valuable livestock whose bloodlines needed to be preserved. The Airabel villagers did not seem to prescribe to that same thought process. Judging by the way a few women were eyeing Fallon and his generals, Shea was willing to bet Eckbert’s wishes would be honored at the first opportunity.

  Fallon opened his hands and gave them a fierce grin. “Now, shall we enjoy this feast you’ve put together for us?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “HAS HE said anything yet?” Fallon asked Caden upon arrival. Caden had had the foresight to move the man to a different part of the camp. One where Shea wouldn’t easily be able to overhear her former companion when he screamed.

  “Yes. The man won’t shut up.” Caden gave the tent where their captive waited a disgusted look. “Nothing he says seems to be of any consequence, however.”

  Darius snorted. He’d invited himself along to the interrogation. Braden had remained behind in the treetop village with Chirron and Van. Fallon hadn’t been happy leaving Van up there, knowing the other man tended to be brutal to those the Trateri conquered. There were also rumors of how he treated the opposite sex. Nothing concrete, however.

  Despite that, Fallon had faith the general would keep him in check.

  “Let’s see if we can jog something loose, shall we?” Fallon gave Caden a wolfish grin. It had just a hint of brutality to it.

  Fallon stalked past him and into the dark space inside the tent. There was a small brazier lit on one side; it was the only light now that night had long since fallen. The Airabel villagers knew how to throw a feast and had kept Fallon and the others long past sunset. Coupled with the long journey down the tree in the dark, it was well past midnight.

  “Look who has returned. The conquering warlord, master of all he sees,” Reece said upon seeing Fallon. He had a sly smile on his face, the expression that of a fox who thinks it’s cornered a mouse. Only Fallon was as far from a mouse as one could get.

  He didn’t respond to the greeting, choosing silence as he crossed his arms over his chest and settled a dark look on Reece.

  “Oh, scary. Does that look often win you confessions?” Reece refused to be cowed.

  The man was foolhardy. Cocky and arrogant when surrounded by danger. Fallon couldn’t bring himself to respect him. He was a showboat. Fallon didn’t see much resemblance in the skill and poise Shea possessed and this boy’s cocky assumption that no harm would befall him.

  A small movement in the corner drew Fallon’s attention. Witt stood behind the captive with his arms at his sides and a considering expression on his face.

  “What can you tell me?” Fallon asked.

  “What kind of question is that?” Reece asked. “Do you think I’ll just answer?”

  Fallon leveled a calm look on the other man. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  Reece blinked in confusion.

  A slight tug at the corner of Witt’s lips spoke to his amusement. “He’s definitely a pathfinder. My guess is he’s not been assigned to a specific post. He’s skilled, but his arrogance keeps him from advancing further in their ranks. It’s probably why they put him on this assignment. He’s expendable.”

  Reece face nearly turned purple with insult. “I’ll have you know that I’m considered one of the best in my age group, and they don’t consider me expendable in the least.”

  Fallon raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that why they sent you on a suicide mission?”

  Reece snorted. “Hardly. Shea won’t let you kill me.”

  “Do you see Shea anywhere near here, boy?” Darius asked at Fallon’s back.

  Fallon hunkered down getting in Reece’s face. “Shea does not make the rules in my army. I do. She might be upset about your death, but by then it will be too late.”

  For the first time Reece looked a little uncertain. Good, the little shit finally understood just how serious this was. It wasn’t a game. There would be no calling a halt if Reece decided he didn’t want to play anymore. Fallon was deadly serious and there was nothing he’d like more than to relieve this man of his head.

  “I’m her cousin. She’d never forgive you.”

  Fallon stood up. Hm. That might put a wrinkle in things. He didn’t let that stop him though. “It might take a long time, but I have a feeling she’ll eventually come back around.”

  Reece snorted. “You don’t know Shea very well, then. That woman holds a grudge like no other.”

  “It might be worth it just to shut you up,” Witt said, poking Reece in the back of the head.

  Reece shrugged and tried to duck away from Witt. He didn’t get far, restrained in the chair as he was.

  “What is it that you want?” Fallon asked. He was tired of the games. He wanted to be in bed holding his woman, not here interrogating a fool.

  “Didn’t you get the note?”

  Fallon’s jaw ticked. “You mean the note you invaded my space to leave on Shea’s pillow.”

  “Yeah, that note.”

  Caden scoffed. “This boy is an idiot.”

  Darius’s expression made it clear he agreed. “How is he a pathfinder? I’m beginning to revise my opinion of them after meeting him.”

  “He is not typical to their ranks,” Witt said, never taking his eyes off the other man.

  “What’s the big deal? The note was very clear. Shea can come back home and even bring the little friends she’s made.” Reece’s expression made it clear he had no idea why they found the note so offensiv
e.

  Fallon snapped. He’d crossed the space in seconds and grabbed Reece’s shirt, jerking him and the chair he was still tied to half off the ground. “The big deal is you trespassed in my space. You violated the room I share with my Telroi. Worst of all, you seek to take what is mine. I have killed men for less. I have destroyed villages and salted the earth they rested on so nothing could grow again for offenses not even half as grave as the insult you gave. That is the big deal.”

  Reece’s head flopped around on his shoulders as Fallon shook him with every other word. Fallon’s voice rose until it was a thunderous roar in the small space. The other three made no attempt to separate him from his victim, looking on with bored expressions.

  Fallon took a deep breath and opened his hand. Reece fell, his chair wobbling before falling on its side. Reece coughed several times before craning his head to glare up at Fallon.

  “I don’t know what she sees in you. You’re not her normal type at all.”

  Fallon bared his teeth at the man on the ground and chuckled. It was the laugh of a dragon faced with someone so far beneath him that he couldn’t even be classified as a threat anymore. Reece would have to work harder if he wanted to get to Fallon. It didn’t matter if he was Shea’s type or not. She was his, and he was hers. The end. What came before was unimportant. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d been a monk before he’d met her.

  Reece eyed him warily. “Didn’t work, huh? Perhaps you’re smarter than you look.”

  Fallon reached down and set the chair and Reece upright. “Start talking. My patience for you is wearing thin. Once it’s gone, my men will kill you and put your body somewhere no one but the beasts will find it. We’ll tell Shea you went back home.”

  “She’ll know. They’ll send others until they get what they want.”

  Fallon cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. “By then, our bond will not be so easily broken.”

  Reece sighed and tilted his head back to look up at the canvas. Fallon watched with interest. It was a trait Shea had demonstrated on more than one occasion—usually when she was frustrated or had to consider a problem. Perhaps it was a family trait. After a long minute, Reece tilted his head slightly and directed his eyes so he could see Fallon.

  “The pathfinders want Shea to come home.”

  “No.”

  He sighed and kept going. “They want her to come home and bring you and your army with her.”

  Hmm. That was interesting. And unexpected.

  “Why?”

  Reece shrugged. “They didn’t tell me that. I’m just a pawn—isn’t that what you said?”

  Fallon grabbed a finger of the other man’s and twisted just far enough to put pressure on the joints but not enough to break it. “Why?”

  “Because something’s wrong!”

  Fallon released the finger and stepped back. “Wrong how?”

  “You’ve seen it. The mist. The beast attacks, aggressive beyond anything we’ve seen in generations. We’ve lost four settlements over the past three months. Established settlements that shouldn’t have been destroyed so easily.”

  “And what is it that they’re hoping Fallon will do for them?” Shea’s cool voice came from the tent’s entrance. She shot a look at Fallon before turning her attention back to Reece.

  Caden sent a questioning look to Fallon, asking without words whether he wanted her removed. Fallon gave a slight shake of his head. No, he wanted to see what she’d do. Then he wanted to ask how she’d followed him.

  “What do you think they want, Shea? They want his army. They want his help in beating back the beasts.”

  “That doesn’t make sense, Reece. The guild never asks for help. Fallon and his army wouldn’t be content to deal with the beasts and then leave the Highlands to go their merry way. They’ll want payment. Why would the guild chance it?”

  Reece sat back and shrugged. “Why don’t you ask them for yourself?”

  Shea made an angry sound of frustration.

  Fallon leaned forward grabbing Reece’s hand and bending it back at an unnatural angle. “We’re asking you.”

  Reece glared into Fallon’s eyes for a long minute. Whatever he saw there made him blanch and look away.

  “This isn’t like normal. When’s the last time the mist reached this far into the Lowlands?”

  “Not for centuries,” Shea answered.

  Witt looked interested in the conversation and stepped closer.

  “Exactly. There’s something at work here. Something the guild can’t explain.”

  “That’s a good excuse and all, but the guild has never bothered itself to care about the villages of the Highlands before unless their tithe went missing. What’s the real reason?” Witt asked.

  “That’s not true,” Reece said. “They care. They’re just limited in what they can do.”

  Witt’s snort made it clear what he thought of that response.

  “They’ve faced this before,” Shea said. “Why risk it?”

  Reece’s sigh was angry. “Because of you. Because of what you did. You woke something when you went into the Badlands, and now everything has been placed in jeopardy. This is your fault and it’s your job to fix it.”

  Shea stared at him, her face paling in shock. “That’s not true.” She shook her head and took a step back. “That’s not possible. We barely made it past the first demarcation. There’s no way we caused this.”

  Reece’s shrug was tired. “I don’t know what to tell you. Everything I’ve seen or been told says the problem originated in the Badlands and it’s just getting worst. If you don’t want another cataclysm on your hands, you’ll do what you can to help. Go home, Shea. Bring your friends, because you’re certainly going to need them.”

  Shea had a stunned and broken expression on her face. The fight had run out of her.

  “Keep him alive,” Fallon ordered Caden. “I’ll want to speak to him again.”

  “Understood.”

  Fallon took Shea by the arm and walked her out of the interrogation room. She didn’t say anything to protest, letting him lead her where he would. He noted with grim satisfaction that Trenton stood in a pool of shadows next to the tent and Wilhelm was a silent presence across the way. He’d have words for them later, but their severity would be mitigated by the fact that they’d remained with her.

  The walk to their quarters was silent and seemed much longer than normal. Fallon was content with the silence, not wanting their words to be overheard by any of his men. He had questions and Shea was going to answer them for once. He’d let her get away with some of her non-answers regarding the Highlands and the pathfinders’ guild, understanding what it meant to be loyal. He liked that her loyalty wasn’t something so easily replaced, but his patience with it had just run out.

  *

  Shea’s mind whirled at the information Reece had given her, and the accusation that everything currently wrong could be laid at her feet. It was a ridiculous claim.

  Wasn’t it?

  Yes, it was. There was no way that expedition had managed to create this level of discordance. They’d never made it anywhere close to the Badland’s heart, most of them dying before they’d even gone a week.

  Still, something was wrong. The mist, the increased attacks, the frostling Shea had run into previously. All pointed to something being amiss.

  They swept into their quarters. Fallon released her arm and made a beeline for the carafe of wine that was always kept filled. He poured himself a chalice and drank it down before pouring himself another.

  Shea was too consumed by her own thoughts to notice immediately how agitated he was.

  “Fallon, we need to talk about this. I think Reece is right. I need to go. I need to go back to the Highlands.”

  He slammed his cup down; she jumped as her widened eyes landed on him. He advanced on her, only stopping when she took a step back.

  He eyed her with determination. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “You don’t understand.�
��

  “I understand that the first time your precious pathfinders beckon, you hearken to their call like a dog to their master.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Isn’t it? Shea, half the time, you act like you’d rather be anywhere but here. You’re always going on about becoming a scout again, but isn’t that just an excuse to hide, to pretend that you’re still one of them?”

  She glared at him, her throat tight. “I want to be a scout because it’s what I’m good at. It’s your insecurities that keep me from it. Your fear that holds me back.”

  “There are other options than just being a scout. Why can’t you see that?”

  It was the same argument, just a different day. “You never asked what I wanted. You just assumed you knew what’s good for me. Well, you don’t. Only I do.”

  He shook his head, his face stubborn. “Not in my army you don’t.”

  That was the kicker. Everything was his. Not theirs. Shea gritted her teeth. This wasn’t important right now. What Reece had revealed was. “We’re not going to agree on this.”

  “We don’t have to. I’ve already made my decision. I’m not changing my mind.”

  Shea took a deep breath. “Reece brought up several good points. There is something wrong. The pathfinders might be able to help us.”

  “We’ve gotten by until now. No reason we can’t continue doing so.”

  The sound that came from her throat was angry and full of frustration. “And you call me stubborn. Fallon, there are things in this world you don’t understand. What you’ve seen so far is merely a pittance of what waits to be unleashed at the heart of the Badlands. If they’re right and the heart is waking, it will be a second cataclysm. You said the last one drove your people from their homes. These lands were once populated with ten times the people. You could walk from one end of it to the next on great roads. The cataclysm changed all that. It destroyed everything. If there is a chance that it’s happening again, we have to do all in our power to stop it.”

  Fallon shook his head. “All the more reason to stay out of it. I don’t know these people and I certainly don’t trust them. For all you know this is a trap. You’ve said before how ruthless they are.”