Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2)

Braden leaned forward and looked around the table with a grave face, his eyes pausing on Shea before moving on. Shea got the sense he would have been happier if she hadn’t been present but had decided not to make an issue of it with Fallon sitting next to her.

“Things have gotten worse in the Outlands,” he said. “There is a plague affecting the plants and animals. It started small but has taken hold of nearly half of the land. There is a rot at the root of the long grass. Insects and animals that feed off it have begun to sicken and die. Those that survive show madness. We lost an entire herd before we figured out the cause.”

There was murmur of unease in the room as those around the table wore similar looks of dismay or grief. The loss of a herd was a hard blow. The bloodlines bred into that herd would be difficult for the Trateri to replace and the effects of their deaths would be felt for several generations.

“We’ve burned what we could before the dry season made burning too dangerous, but I fear it is only a matter of time before this rot infects the rest of our lands.”

“Has the Sun clan been able to study it? They must have some way to treat this rot,” Ben said.

Braden shook his head. “I’ve had Chirron’s people working day and night to figure out a treatment, but they’ve had no luck. They are now hesitant to approach, as the rot started affecting those that worked with it. Chirron lost three of his people to madness after they handled the diseased plants. I’m not sure they will be able to figure out a solution before we reach a point from which there is no return.”

The rest of the group sat back, the normally antagonistic banter that presided over one of these meetings absent for once.

“What is to be done?” Henry asked Fallon.

“I’ve given orders that the remaining herds are to be moved to the border with the Lowlands. There is less grazing room for them there, but that also means the blight is unlikely to reach them anytime soon.”

“And our people?” Ben asked.

Braden looked at Fallon for permission to continue. Fallon inclined his head. “We’ve left half of the Sun Clan healers behind, so they might continue their work in finding a cure. The rest of our clans will follow the herds.”

“You want to bring them all to the Lowlands?” someone Shea didn’t recognize asked. “If we abandon those lands, the Azelii and the Keric will claim them for their own. We’ll have lost our ancestral home.”

“They’ll claim nothing but a wasteland,” Fallon said, his voice hard. “This is our only option if we want to survive. The resources in our lands already cannot support our current population. Those lands may be where our father and his father and his father before him were given a sky burial, but our oldest stories say it is not where our ancestors lay. It is simply the land we ended up in when we were driven from our homes during the cataclysm. Our ancestors will understand if we abandon them to ensure our survival as a people.”

Fallon met each person’s eyes with an implacable expression. The one that Shea had dubbed his warlord expression because it said that there would be no arguing with him, no challenging his wishes. He’d made a decree and he expected it to be followed.

The men and women at the table looked like they didn’t have the energy to oppose him. The news Braden had brought seemed to drain them.

Daere stared into the distance, her thoughts far away. Henry seemed resigned, as if he had been expecting this but had hoped for better. Darius’s expression was thoughtful and grim. Shea could almost see thoughts and plans being considered and discarded when they failed to meet his expectations. Darius was a strategist—the best besides Fallon. It looked like he was already factoring the news into his calculations.

Shea studied Fallon, his face like stone and his thoughts hidden behind a stern expression. She’d known that their home in the Outlands held limited resources for their people, but she had not realized the situation was quite so dire. It sounded like he was preparing to migrate all of the Trateri from their territory in the Outlands, instead of trying to extend their reach to the Lowlands.

This would change things, but Shea had yet to figure out how.

“That will be all. I have given you much to think on. I suggest you take the next few days to consider what I’ve said here. We have dark days ahead, ones where we will have to make hard decisions that might mean sacrificing to survive. I expect every one of you to be prepared if the worst comes to pass.” Fallon dismissed the group.

He gave Shea a significant look, telling her without words to remain where she was as the others departed. When they were finally on their own, he turned to her, studying her face with a considering expression.

“Most of my army does not know how far things have deteriorated in our homelands. I’d like to keep it that way for now. Knowing could cause dissension and would distract them from where they need to be focused.”

Shea frowned at him. She’d assumed as much, otherwise he wouldn’t have dismissed Eamon and the other commanders before having Braden make his announcement.

Seeing the confusion on her face, he gave her a half smile, a small twist of the lips that managed to convey his ruefulness. “I know you understand, but I needed to make sure you didn’t reveal this to your friends just yet.”

“Of course.” She understood, perhaps better than most, how important information was and what effect it could have on people. After all, controlling the flow of information and knowledge was how the pathfinders began.

He reached out and tugged on a strand of hair that had fallen out of the small braid she’d attempted. “Would you spend the afternoon with me?”

There was a hint of vulnerability to his face that took Shea off guard. The word, “Yes,” was out of her mouth before she could stop it, even though she’d thought to follow up with the Airabel on the problem of the mist.

His half-smile widened, lighting up his entire face. An answering warmth filled Shea. She frowned, nonplussed that someone else’s emotions could have such an impact on her own. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

“I was planning to head to the treetop to get started on research, but I can take you around the village up there instead.” She gave him small smile of her own. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

“Oh, and what’s stopped you before?”

She gave him a reproachful look. “Who is the one who decided to sneak out while I was asleep?”

He grinned repentantly. “You were sleeping so soundly; I couldn’t bring myself to bother you.”

Her glare said she was not amused. His statement reminded her of the argument they were going to have soon. The one she had put to the side in favor of the twin issues of the mist and the blight on his homelands distracting them.

“We will be talking about that,” Shea informed him. “And soon.”

He inclined his head. “I would expect no less.”

She huffed at him and stood. The moment wasn’t right, her issue seeming inconsequential in comparison to the other dangers they faced. She’d wait a little longer, maybe after she’d shown him some of the village.

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