“Superstition.” The man’s dismissive voice rubbed Shea the wrong way, reminding her of other missions, others whose assumptions and ignorance put people in danger.
Before Shea could make a cutting remark, Fallon stepped in. “Braden, enough. You know as well as I do that something is wrong. We’ve been wandering for days in land that is unfamiliar when it shouldn’t be.”
“Days?” That was worse than Shea had feared. It meant escaping had just become significantly more difficult.
“As best as I could figure.” Fallon’s deep voice was a steadying influence.
“At least three, maybe four. Time is difficult to gauge when you can’t tell whether its day or night,” Braden said.
“How many men do you still have?” Shea asked.
“We started with a hundred and are down to seventy,” Fallon said. “We’re lucky we had stopped for the night when it descended, or we would have lost many more. As it is, I barely gathered the men in time.”
More of them had survived than she had expected. She had anticipated only being able to locate Fallon. The rest were a bonus.
“I think I can get us out of here,” Shea said. “But it’s going to require you to trust me.”
Fallon pushed a lock of hair behind Shea’s ear. “Always.”
She gave him a smile, one that lit up her face. “Do you have rope or some way to stay connected with each other?”
“Yes, it’s how we kept them from getting lost over the past few days. We tried to just walk close to one another that first day, but more than one ended up getting separated from the group. After that, I had them tie themselves to each other with rope so we wouldn’t lose any more men.”
That quick thinking had probably saved them. Shea wasn’t sure she would have been able to locate Fallon if he’d been any deeper. The men with him would have delayed their descent further into the lands the mist shrouded. She was just grateful she’d found them in time.
“How long before your men can be ready to move?” Shea asked.
Fallon turned his head and barked a command. The sound of movement came from around them.
“We’re ready to go now.”
She noticed the rope tied around his waist for the first time. He shifted slightly when it pulled at him as the men arranged themselves.
She couldn’t help the smile that took over her face. She did love efficiency.
“All right then, I’ll take lead.”
“Wait, we’re really trusting her to lead us out of here?” Braden asked. “We stopped so we could get our bearing. How do we know she can find her way out when none of us could?”
The mist began moving again, veiling Braden and Fallon from Shea’s eyes. She reached out and grabbed Fallon’s arm before he could disappear entirely.
“I trust her with my life. If anybody can do this, she can.”
Shea’s hand slid down Fallon’s arm until she gripped his fingers.
The tug in her chest toward home was faint here, almost nonexistent. For a moment she feared she’d lost it—that she had ventured so deep into the mist after Fallon that there was no way out.
Then she caught it.
She stepped forward, Fallon’s hand clasped securely in hers. One by one, his men followed as they progressed slowly through the mist. Much slower than the pace Shea had set on her journey in. It was a necessary precaution with such a long chain of people.
Fallon was a silent presence at her side, as if he sensed that she needed quiet. That her connection was tenuous at best and she needed her focus. Though she couldn’t see him nor he her, she could almost feel his eyes boring into her back. It was a comforting sensation as they crept through the haze.
*
So focused on that tug leading her out of the mist, Shea almost didn’t notice when the haze thinned. Such an imperceptible change at first, that it was easy to miss. Only the slight flex in Fallon’s hand around hers warned her.
She looked back, noticing she could see his form and face almost without hindrance for the first time in hours. Her eyes drifted to those beyond his shoulder. Three others, including Braden, were visible as well.
Good. This meant they were close to being out of this infernal haze.
A renewed sense of hope lent speed to her footsteps. The forest, the same one she’d been in before the mist, towered above them. A silent testament to their success.
It didn’t take long before Shea began to hear the sounds of the forest around them. It was only then that she realized how oppressive the silence in the mist had been. A forest is never quiet. There is always some sort of sound, whether that be the sound of branches rustling in the wind, birds calling to each other, or the hum of insects.
Now that she could hear that song again, she felt that tight spot in her chest loosen. Not all the way, but it wasn’t wound as tight as before. She doubted it would totally relax until she’d confirmed Eamon and his group had made it out as well.
Still, she hung onto Fallon’s hand until the mist had disappeared, not even leaving a faint memory of its presence.
“We should be safe now. You can tell your men to untie the rope.”
Fallon’s serious eyes studied her and then the air around them. Coming to the same conclusion she had, that the mist was no longer a danger, he nodded and turned to give the order. “You can untie but stay close. I want everyone to be within a few feet of each other in case this becomes a problem again.”
Shea didn’t take offense to his hesitation. She would have done the same in his situation. The mist was unlikely to make another appearance, but stranger things had happened.
She stepped away and peered over her shoulder, only dimly aware of his men’s movements as they shrugged out of the rope they’d tied to themselves. She stared at the path behind them, questions swimming in her mind.
“What are you thinking?” Fallon asked, coming to stand beside her.
Shea was quiet for a long moment as she composed her thoughts. Used to the way she tended to hesitate before speaking, Fallon waited.
“I’m thinking that this shouldn’t have happened.”
His eyes shifted to her. “How so?”
“It’s been so long since the mist appeared this far into the Lowlands that even my people only have second and third hand accounts of it ever happening. Those accounts come from records hundreds of years old. I don’t think anyone living near here has ever experienced it.”
“You’re worried that Airabel is going to suffer losses.” He made a guess, but it was a good one. He’d become used to the way her mind worked since their relationship had deepened.
She made a ‘hmm’ sound. Yes, part of her regretted the inevitable deaths that would occur simply because the Lowlanders didn’t know how to survive the mist.