Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands Book 2)

by T. A. White

  His face was placid but not unsympathetic. He offered her no answer.

  “You know the rules, baby girl. Sometimes you have to cut the rot from the tree, so the rest of it can survive.” A man unfolded himself from where he’d been sitting in the shadows and stepped forward, meeting Shea’s eyes. He was tall, taller than Fallon, and had crow’s feet at the corner of each eye. Laughter had cut grooves around his eyes and mouth over the years. His skin was paler than you would imagine of a man who spent the majority of his life outside.

  He stared at Shea for a long moment, ignoring the weapons aimed his way. His eyes cataloged each feature, noting the grief that showed in the dark circles under her eyes and the tired slump of her shoulders. He took in all those details as if he’d come across this rare specimen, one that might disappear if he didn’t memorize everything.

  After an eternity of staring at each other, he gave her a half-smile. “Hello, daughter. I’ve missed you.”

  Shea took a deep breath but was unable to summon an answering smile. “Hello, father.”

  He lifted an eyebrow even as amusement touched his lips. “That’s it? After all these months, that’s all you have to say?” He turned to Fallon and the rest. “All this time her mother and I feared she was dead. We worried; we agonized. I even sent your cousin to hunt down those who might have harmed you.”

  Shea watched him with a careful gaze. “How long before anyone noticed I was gone?”

  Some of the affableness drained out of his expression as he fixed her with a look and sighed, as if to say he was disappointed in her question. She gave him a stubborn look in return.

  “Eight months.”

  “So, not that worried.”

  She’d figured as much. She was the black sheep. The golden child turned disappointment. The first couple roll calls she’d missed, they’d probably ascribed to her sulking. After that, they must have decided she was simply too busy, or maybe they had more pressing matters to attend to. A stray pathfinder wasn’t that odd.

  “That’s hardly nice,” her father rebuked.

  She waved a hand at the decimated village around them. “Neither is this.”

  Her father nodded, taking in their surroundings with a careful eye. “No, I imagine not.”

  Shea spotted Witt over her father’s shoulder. His face was carefully guarded as he took in the village. If she was this upset over the destruction, she couldn’t imagine how he was feeling. He’d already made clear his distaste for the pathfinder method of punishing those who opposed them.

  “I had friends here. People who were good to me and helped me while out there.” She pointed to the world beyond the village walls. Many of which had gaping holes in them.

  “I met some of them,” Reece said. “A man by the name of Dane.”

  Both Shea and Witt looked at him with hope.

  “I ran into him and a group he was leading out of the Lowlands. He’s the one who told me what had happened. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have even known where to begin searching for you.”

  And in so doing, he had signed this place’s death warrant.

  “You couldn’t have talked to them first?” Witt asked, stepping towards them. “Gotten the children out at least.”

  Reece shook his head. “It was like this when we arrived. After Dane’s story, I let the guild know what had happened and decided to confront the elders on my own. See the extent of the betrayal for myself. By the time we reached this place whatever had done this was long gone.”

  Fallon moved beside her. His fierce scowl signified the end of his patience. “I have traveled a very long way and am not in the mood to play games.” He fixed Shea’s father with a flat stare, the kind that intimidated most men. Her father was not most men, however. The corner of his lips twitched as if he was fighting a smile. “You sent your man to find us, and immediately after, we were attacked. A smart man would assume you and your people are a threat. Convince me not to end you and your nephew where you stand.”

  Her father stared at Fallon for a moment before throwing his head back and roaring with laughter. “Oh, I like this one, my dear. He’s much better than that other one.”

  Fallon gave her father a warrior’s smile, one that bared teeth as the light of battle lit in his eyes. He was enjoying this, Shea realized. Of course, he was. He thrived on combat and challenge, and her father had just proved he was capable of both.

  The Trateri around them who had lowered their guard when she identified the man as her father, raised their weapons in threat. Their faces reflected similar expressions of mad triumph as Fallon’s.

  “Fallon,” Shea warned in a low voice.

  “You cannot have two loyalties in this. You must choose a side,” Fallon said back. “If he is a threat to my men or you, then I will act accordingly.”

  Shea struggled with a strong urge to whap Fallon on the back of his head. Maybe that would knock some sense into him and force him to stop saying stupid things.

  She loved her father more than words could express. He was her calm port in the storm, the person who picked her up when she fell and gave her the motivation to keep on going when she was convinced she had failed. Despite that, she recognized the ruthless and pragmatic man inside. The one who would burn the world to the ground should anything threaten the things he held dear.

  That man would not have come unarmed to this fight. He would not have confronted Fallon without having some type of exit strategy.

  Her father watched them with half-lidded eyes. He seemed perfectly content despite the fact there were several arrows pointed at him, in addition to the men who had raised their swords. He was calm and cool and amused by the situation.

  No, he had a plan. She just didn’t know how to explain that to Fallon.

  “I’m not here to make war on you,” her father told Fallon. “I’m here for my daughter.”

  Fallon’s body tensed. “No.”

  Her father continued as if he hadn’t spoken. He spread his hands to indicate the village around them. “You’ve seen what is happening. This village is not unique. We’ve lost several others over the past few months, some much bigger than this. The Lowlands are suffering as well. I’ve come to take her to stand trial before her people.”

  Shea sucked in a breath. Of all the things she thought he’d say, that had been nowhere on the list. The kernel of hurt that had taken root—after he had failed to stand up for her before her demotion—grew.

  She knew he loved her, but she also knew that in many ways, she was a disappointment. Someone who had failed, broken faith, and since meeting Fallon, severely compromised her vows. Yes, he loved her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make her pay the price of what he considered justice.

  Fallon snarled, the sound angry and brutal in the desolated village. “That will not happen.”

  He held one arm out, pushing Shea behind him. She couldn’t take her eyes off her father. She knew she needed to speak up, if only to warn Fallon to be careful that he had something up his sleeve, but she couldn’t. Hurt had stolen her voice.

  Family could raise you up, but they could also damage you worse than any force out there. She would rather fight a thousand beasts, lead hundreds of missions for ungrateful, obtuse villagers, than listen to her father once again tell her how she had failed, that she would stand trial.

  “Fallon,” she said in soft voice, raising a hand to touch his back. She tried to step around him, to come up to his side, and then had to grit her teeth as he forced her back behind him. She thumped him on the back before stepping out from behind him. She wasn’t the kind of person who would hide, even if it felt like someone had just come up and sucker-punched her.

  “It’s not happening,” he told her in a no-nonsense voice. As if by giving her an order, he could make it come true. He turned on her father, “You won’t be taking her.”

  Her father studied him, his expression curious even as his eyes were remote as if he calculated a hundred different scenarios. He gave a sharp whistl
e.

  Around them, in the buildings and on top of them, figures moved. They had been well camouflaged before, using the structures to hide their presence.

  Fallon again shoved Shea behind him, even as half of his men pivoted to face these strangers, many of whom were clad in clothes designed to blend in with the forest and mountain terrain. The pathfinders held boomers, all trained on Fallon’s men.

  Fallon observed them with a sardonic arch to his eyebrow before giving them a mad grin, his teeth on full display and his eyes alight with challenge. “Your men are good. I’ll give you that. My scouts saw no evidence of their presence.”

  Shea’s dad watched him with curious eyes.

  Fallon’s expression turned crafty, like a wolf when its quarry had just fallen into its trap. “I’ve known your daughter for a while now and have gotten used to the unexpected. I haven’t gotten this far without being prepared.”

  He let out a war cry. There was a rustle of sound as men appeared behind the pathfinders, some with knives held at their back, others with arrows nocked and drawn and pointing at Shea’s father’s men.

  Shea’s father watched with a slight smile on his face. “You’ll still die,” her father warned.

  “We won’t be the only ones. I can promise you that. We number many. Should we fall, there will be those who can replace us. Can you say the same?”

  Shea’s father studied him, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “Enough,” Shea barked before anyone could do anything stupid and start something that would end in needless bloodshed. “I’ll go with you. There’s no need for any of this.”

  “You won’t,” Fallon snapped back. He didn’t budge as she tried to step around him. “That’s final.”

  This time she did slap him on the back of his head, dodging out of his arms to stand glaring at him a few feet away.

  “You don’t tell me what to do,” she snarled. “You ask nicely, and if I feel like it, I’ll listen.”

  Fallon glared at her, his whiskey eyes molten with anger. They spent a long moment locked in a stare down, before her father chuckled.

  “Just like her mother. Never could get that woman to do anything she didn’t want to.” He whistled again, and the pathfinders lowered their weapons. Fallon waited a beat before giving his men the same signal. They stepped back, but kept their weapons at the ready.

  “You’re not taking her,” Fallon told her father.

  He studied Fallon with a thoughtful look. Shea waited as the two men took each other’s measure. This wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined introducing Fallon to one of her parents. Though to be fair, she had thought she’d never get the chance.

  “Very well, then you will promise to fix this little problem we’re having.” He looked at Shea. “You went where you weren’t supposed to go and woke something that never should have been woken. One way or another, you must take responsibility.”

  Shea’s lips tightened. “I told you we never made it past the second marker. This is not the result of our expedition.”

  He shook his head. “Maybe so, but you also told me that you lost a week that you can’t remember. You could very well have strayed further than you thought. Either way, it doesn’t matter. The elders are looking for someone to blame and you’re the only one who survived. Either you face trial, or lover boy helps end this threat with that army of his.”

  “His army isn’t at your beck and call,” Shea argued.

  Her father shrugged. “Your alternative is trying to fight your way out of here. Don’t think you’ll get far though, and a lot of people on both sides will die.”

  Fallon didn’t look away from him. He knew the destructive power of the boomers. Had even seen them in action a time or two. He didn’t need to be told who had the advantage.

  “We die or fail to make it back and my men have orders to drench the Highlands in blood. They will destroy any city or village they come across. You won’t need to fear the beasts then,” Fallon said in an idle voice.

  Shea fought the urge to scream. Both men were being ridiculous.

  “Fine, I’ll sweeten the pot,” her father said. “You come to the Keep with me and hear what we have to say. You do that, and we’ll give you the Highlands with our blessing.”

  Shea’s jaw dropped. She closed it with a snap. What was he saying?

  “We’ll even throw in enough boomers and other weapons we have in store to supply a good bit of your army.”

  Shea sucked in a shocked breath. This was unheard of. Even admitting how many of the boomers they had was shocking. Generations of secrecy and protecting what they hid, and her father had essentially just told Fallon where he could find a huge stockpile of weapons that would make him invincible.

  A chill rushed over her. How bad were things that the pathfinders were willing to resort to this?

  Fallon cocked his head. He looked interested. Shea knew he’d always planned to conquer the Highlands, and here was her father offering them to him on a silver platter.

  “Shea will be free of any repercussions?”

  Her father nodded. “I give you my word.”

  “My men will come with me.”

  Shea’s father hesitated, his eyes going to those Trateri whose expressions had less warmth than a stone, as they watched her father and his men.

  “That can be arranged,” he finally said.

  “Done.” Fallon looked at Shea with a fierce light in his eyes. She could see the wheels already turning.

  Her father kept his gaze fixed on Fallon. “As I said, you and your men will come with us. You can send some back to explain to the rest of your army, so they don’t get ahead of themselves with the bloodshed and all. I’ll give you the rest of the day and evening to make arrangements. We’ll leave at first light.”

  Fallon gave him a sharp nod. Her father left, not even sparing Shea a glance, as if now that he’d gotten what he wanted he’d lost interest in her presence. The hole in her heart iced over.

  Fallon summoned Caden with a look. “Pick ten men you trust to send back to our army below the fault. Darius will need to be prepared if things go bad up here.”

  Caden looked like he’d bitten into something sour. “This seems like a trap.”

  Fallon nodded. “Probably, but the potential reward will be worth it.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Shea informed Fallon. He wasn’t sending her with the ten if that was what he had in mind.

  He gave her a sideways glance. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Someone has to watch my back.”

  Her lips tilted up. “Yes, we wouldn’t want you getting stuck in another spinner web.”

  Caden snorted. “She can barely keep Trenton at bay during training. How is she going to protect you from an assassin’s blade?”

  Shea agreed with him. She gave the two men a shrug. “You’ll need my help with the beasts up here. You’re on your own with the humans.”

  Caden shook his head and strode off.

  Buck stopped at her side as he stared after her father. “Your father has some serious balls. I’m beginning to see where you get some of the craziness from.”

  He didn’t wait for her to reply before wandering off shaking his head.

  Shea stood next to Fallon and watched as the Trateri prepared to make camp in the ruins of the village.

  “Not exactly how I pictured meeting your father,” Fallon said.

  Shea snorted. “What? You didn’t expect to meet him in the middle of a destroyed and abandoned village and have him threaten you with death?”

  “Somehow, no. Though I should have, given he’s the one to raise such an unexpected woman.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

  She bumped his shoulder with hers.

  “It would have been easier for me to just stand trial,” she told him. “They’re probably going to ask us to go into the Badlands and face whatever has been directing these beasts.”

  “I wasn’t willing to chance it,” he said. “Besides,
I got the Highlands out of it.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s as much of a prize as you seem to think.” She gestured to her surroundings. “This is what you would be ruling over.”

  He looked around. “This is what I would be protecting.”

  Shea stared up at his face. Yes. Protecting. She thought the pathfinders might have forgotten that was their role once upon a time. Perhaps Fallon and his army could take up that mantle.

  “Are you ready to go home?”

  She stared at him for another moment. Her father had made it clear with his talk of trial that the Keep was no longer her home. A thread of sadness fought to linger before Shea forced it away. That was before. This was now.

  A smile dawned, it was slow and spoke of new beginnings. “What are you talking about? My home is standing right next to me.”

  DISCOVER MORE BY T.A. WHITE

  The Broken Lands Series

  Pathfinder’s Way – Book One

  The Dragon-Ridden Chronicles

  Dragon-Ridden – Book One

  Of Bone and Ruin – Book Two

  Shifting Seas - Novella

  The Aileen Travers Series

  Shadow’s Messenger – Book One

  Midnight’s Emissary – Book Two

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Writing is my first love. Even before I could read or put coherent sentences down on paper, I would beg the older kids to team up with me for the purpose of crafting ghost stories to share with our friends. This first writing partnership came to a tragic end when my coauthor decided to quit a day later and I threw my cookies at her head. This led to my conclusion that I worked better alone. Today, I stick with solo writing, telling the stories that would otherwise keep me up at night.