Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2)

“But you didn’t.”

Shea took her time answering. “I told them that we barely made it past the first marker. There are five total.”

“And the truth?”

“The group fell apart long before that. There was dissention almost as soon as we crossed into the Badlands.” Shea didn’t like thinking about that time. She’d prefer to bury what happened and move on. “Shortly after reaching the first demarcation, the golden eagles descended. We’d already lost several people. They carried off half of our number, leaving the rest to fight among ourselves.”

Fallon rested a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, saying without words that he was here. That she wasn’t alone.

“Some of us wanted to continue on; the rest wanted to go home.”

“You split up.” Fallon sounded sure of his answer.

She nodded. “Not at first. We tried to stick together and agree on a course of action. There were too few of us to have a good chance of surviving if we split up, so I made the decision to pull us out. I told the rest they’d follow, or I’d have them excommunicated from our guild.”

Shea had told the elders she was the only one to survive the eagles, that by some miraculous turn of events she had survived where the others had not.

“A few days later, three of our number decided they weren’t coming home, that they had come too far. They got up one night and disappeared into the mist that had descended while we were sleeping. I sent those who remained home while I went after the three.”

She should have left them to their fate. If she had, maybe things would have turned out differently.

“I tracked them several miles before finding two of their bodies. The third was too damaged to identify. The mist must have affected their senses, or maybe they just lost their caution, because they’d wandered into a bantum nest.”

The bantum was a beast whose smell, that of rotting flesh and garbage, preceded them. It was very easy to know when you were close to a nest. The pathfinders should have been able to easily avoid it.

“I don’t remember too much after that. Everything blurs together. I remember being afraid and constantly running from something. My people found me several weeks later, delirious and raving.”

“What about the men you sent back?”

She shook her head. “They never made it. We don’t know what happened to them.”

They’d probably gotten disoriented much as Shea had or been overtaken by the mist and been unable to find their way out. She never should have left them. It had been stupid of her.

“You blame yourself for their deaths.” It wasn’t a question. Not just theirs; everybody who went on that mission. “You must know that you would have probably suffered the same fate had you stayed with them.”

She lifted one shoulder. “Maybe, maybe not. I do know that none of us would have been there, if not for me. I planned that expedition, everything that happened can be laid at my feet.”

He arched one eyebrow, his expression understanding and chiding. “That’s an arrogant assumption.”

She scowled at Fallon.

“Did you force them to come, or were they volunteers?”

Shea’s quiet was answer enough.

“They chose to be there then. You can’t take their fate on your shoulders. That way lies madness and is an insult to who they were.”

Shea scoffed. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same responsibility for your men. I’ve seen you with the battle reports. You feel every death.”

“Of course. That is part of a leader’s responsibility, but I never make the mistake of shouldering the blame for their deaths. They chose to be here. They chose to follow me. I feel their deaths because they laid them down to defend my vision, but I don’t assume the guilt for them. That would desecrate the sacrifices they made.”

Shea looked away. She’d never considered it in that manner before. Always before, the deaths of the thirty men and women who had followed her into the Badlands was a weight dragging her down. A reminder that the last time she commanded people she’d failed them in every way possible.

“I’ve learned that sometimes, despite all your planning and training, things go wrong. Plans fall apart, and people sometimes die. That doesn’t mean we give up. It means we fight harder for what we want, that we take life by the throat and force it to surrender.”

It was an inspirational speech, but Shea wasn’t sure how much inspiration she could draw from it. The end result remained the same. Others died while she still lived.

“This beast call they’re concerned about. Is it possible that you picked one up and didn’t realize it?” Fallon asked.

Shea shook her head. “I don’t remember picking anything up, and I didn’t have a pack when I was discovered.”

“You said you were disoriented and delirious when they found you. It could very well be that one of those that first encountered you took the beast call without you being aware of it.”

“Anything is possible when it comes to the Badlands, but it’s highly doubtful.” She’d known every person on that discovery party for years. Many of them related to her in some way. It just didn’t seem likely.

“Either way, this beast call sounds like it’s the reason for the problems my men have been having in recent months.”

She was afraid of that. It meant she could guess the next words out of his mouth.

“We’re going to answer the pathfinders’ summons,” Fallon said, his mouth a grim line. There was a fierce light in his eyes as if to say he was looking forward to it. “If what they think is true and there is a mastermind setting the beasts on my men, I want to know.”

“It’s not going to be that easy,” Shea tried. The last thing she wanted to do was to send Fallon and his men into the Highlands. She didn’t think that would be good for them or the Highlands.

He gave her a fierce smile. “It never is. That’s what makes it so fun.”

“You’re not going to let me talk you out of this, are you?”

She really wished he would. He had no idea what was in store for him there. Nothing good would come of this. She was almost sure of it.

*

Fallon waited until Shea had set off to check on the friends she had among the Trateri before turning back to the tent containing Reece.

He stopped next to the Anateri guarding the entrance. “Let no one inside. Not even Shea.”

The Anateri shared a glance before giving a nod to show they understood.

Fallon ducked inside, his eyes immediately drawn to the prisoner. Reece had moved from the chair to the cot where he reclined with his hands folded behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling as if he could see beyond it to the sky above.

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