Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2)

The sound of pursuit followed them. Shea tripped, falling down a bank and rolling into a stream bed. She pushed herself half upright in the water.

Where was Trenton? He’d been right beside her. She was alone now. They must have gotten separated.

She took her time getting up, keeping her movements soft and silent. There was a rustle in the bushes behind her. Shea slid through the water, keeping low, until she could press herself against the bank. She waited with bated breath as footsteps came closer and closer.

They paused right above her head. She didn’t dare move for fear that it would attract attention. After a long moment, the footsteps retreated.

Shea released the breath she was holding and leaned forward. Her game of hunting had suddenly become all too real.

She’d have to apologize to Trenton and Fallon the next time she saw them. After all the grief she’d given them regarding their insistence of having a guard on her at all times, she finally saw what they had been saying.

She pushed herself away from the bank, pausing to glance over it. Nothing moved in the forest around her. She’d have to chance it. She couldn’t stay here. Eventually her hunter would backtrack and find her. Her only chance was making her way back to the encampment and finding help.

She didn’t even have a weapon to defend herself with. She’d been stupid and left it behind, thinking that it was unnecessary for the game. Trenton was probably going to have a lot to say about that when they met back up.

For now, she needed to be quick and quiet. She could do this. It was no different than evading a beast. Granted, this beast walked on two legs and was highly intelligent, but he didn’t know the forest like she did, and he lacked the superior senses of a true beast.

Yes, she could do this. She refused to be ended by a coward with an arrow, shot in the back like prey.

She ran down the stream bed, hiding her foot prints in the water in case her hunter did come back. After a fair distance, she scrambled up the bank and across the forest floor.

She stopped on an exposed boulder and listened. The human senses were powerful if one knew how to use them. Shea had been taught to listen and feel with more than just the tangible.

Her senses told her something was off in the forest. The animals had gone silent and the air had a menacing, oppressive feeling to it. It was still and quiet, not even the branches in the trees rustling with wind as the world waited, watchful. Shea’s back itched as if someone was watching her.

It could be her attacker, or it could be someone from the game. That had been the purpose, after all—hunt the beast until they caught it. She hadn’t heard any sign of pursuit in the last few minutes, but Fallon, in particular, could be tricky. Either way, it was probably best to avoid whoever was after her. She couldn’t be sure if they were friend or foe.

She slipped off the boulder and moved silently over the ground, her senses tuned to the world around her.

There was no movement, but the forest felt ominous—like there was something waiting in its depths, something that meant Shea ill.

She rolled into some underbrush and slithered across the ground on her stomach.

A rustle in the branches alerted her that she wasn’t alone. Something was behind her. If it was the shooter, she needed to get out of his line of sight. Regroup and see if she could slip away unseen.

She waited, every sense tuned to spot her hunter. There. The branches of a small tree just barely moved. Could be the wind but the branches around it weren’t moving.

Shea moved away, careful to keep her movements silent and not disturb the bushes around her. She needed to find a way to deal with this. She slithered into a natural indent in the land and under an upraised tree root.

Her hand landed next to a vine with purple tracery on it. Shea froze, eyeing the vine with a hint of fear. As she watched, it slithered across the ground, much as she had, weaving back and forth as it sought its prey.

She held her breath as another vine slithered next to her, up and over one of her hands. A sleeper vine nest. Of all the luck. Her assailant wouldn’t need to do anything to her. She was going to get herself killed all on her own.

She carefully turned onto her back. Above her a deep purple flower opened and closed. There were other flowers intertwined with it, each a varying shade of purple. Some were tightly closed, the bud bulging in odd places on the side. She had a guess as to what was causing that, and it was enough to make her break out into a cold sweat.

Voices reached her. “I think she came this way.”

“Are you sure? It could be another false trail. She’s been laying them all afternoon.”

“She didn’t have time to lay one this time. She would have been fleeing for her life.”

“If you say so.”

The vines perked up at the voices. They snaked across the ground, barely causing a rustle against the dead leaves, their movements as sinuous as they were graceful.

Shea held her breath as one moved across her stomach. They must be attracted to sound and movement. Otherwise she’d be dead already.

All she could do was wait as her hunters came closer. They could be part of the game, hunting her as the beast. Something told her to wait. Something in the way they spoke made her think they were the ones who had shot at her.

She waited.

Two men stepped around a tree and exclaimed when they saw her on the ground. The smaller of the two raised a bow and arrow and started to point it at her. Guess that answered that question.

All the while the vines crept closer. From above another vine dropped down.

Shea waited.

The man drew the arrow. The vines attacked. Shea moved, exploding from the ground and sprinting away from the men.

There were twin screams behind her as she fled. She didn’t hesitate. There was nothing to be done anyway.

She ran until she couldn’t run anymore. By sheer instinct, she had managed to run toward camp instead of away. The forest around her began waking up again and the air lightened as if a cloud had passed.

Finally, she slowed and then stopped. She needed to catch her breath and figure out where she was. A twig cracked behind her.

Shea froze and then sprang away.

Her hesitation cost her. Arms wrapped around her before she could even take a step.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SHEA LANDED on the ground with a body on top of hers. She twisted and turned, using her elbows to strike at the person behind her. She kicked back, gratified when she heard a grunt behind her.

“Shea, it’s me. Fallon. Quit fighting.”

Shea stilled. She turned her head to see an irate pair of whiskey colored eyes looking down into hers.

“Fallon.” All of the fight left her. She collapsed onto the ground, her body boneless with relief. Her limbs had a fine tremble in them, a remnant of the adrenaline that had driven her body until now and the fear from when Fallon had grabbed her.

He looked down at her with puzzlement and then looked around them. “Where’s Trenton? Tell me you didn’t ditch your guard again.”

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