Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2)

The lines broke as the horses thundered back toward the cliffs and the safety they now represented.

They reached their hundred meters, the horses wheeling to form the same square they had before. Archers on the inside, spearmen on the outside so their backs could be protected.

The eagles separated in mid-air, one swooping in from the left while the other angled to attack from the right. Fallon remained focused on the closest, concentrating on shouting commands and trusting that one of his commanders would take care of the other side.

Eamon shouted, “Loose,” a beat before Fallon.

There was a cry as one of the eagles closed its talons around a man, trying to drag him from his saddle. The spearmen next to him closed ranks, thrusting with their spears. An arrow found its way into its eye, the boy Shea had befriended giving a triumphant shout.

Its talons opened, dropping its victim. The man fell to the ground, blood gushing from a stomach wound as the eagle climbed into his sky above him.

“Get him back on his horse,” Fallon ordered. “We move now.”

Two of Fallon’s soldiers threw the injured man onto his horse before leaping onto their own. The group took off at a gallop.

“Fallon, look,” Eamon shouted, pointing to the west and the Badlands.

“I see it.” Fallon’s face was grim as he bent closer to his horse and flicked his reins, trying to summon more speed.

A black cloud—moving in an unnatural way as it changed direction and speed against the wind—was heading in their direction. Fast. It was close, much too close. The eagles had distracted them from the danger amassing in the distance.

Eamon turned, calling over his shoulder. “Ride! Ride as if the hounds of the underworld are nipping at your heels.”

The cavern entrance was close now, looming larger with every hoof beat. Fallon didn’t dare call his men to stop to face the eagles bearing down, knowing that if they did, that black mass would be on them.

He just bent lower and let his mount have its head, trusting that it would make it.

He could hear the beat of wings on the air, coming ever closer. Feel the air on the back of his neck from those wings.

Braden stood at the head of several lines of men that had formed on either side of the entrance. Fallon met his eyes as he charged closer.

Braden’s mouth moved, shaping a word. “Loose arrows.”

Arrows flew once again. Aimed at the sky and the creatures bearing down on them.

Then he was past, his horse plunging into darkness. His men followed close behind.

*

A cough echoed around Shea.

“Trenton, are you alive?” she asked. She didn’t dare move, unsure of how much room she still had on her perch.

“Barely.”

She let out a sigh of relief. As much as the man was a pain for his insistence on shadowing her even when she felt it unnecessary, she would have missed him if he’d died.

“How badly are you hurt?” she asked.

A groan echoed up to her. “Battered and bruised, but otherwise okay.”

Shea debated whether to trust that assessment, knowing he’d probably say the same thing even on his deathbed. “Nothing broken?”

It would have taken a miracle for him to have survived that fall without a broken bone or two.

“I’ll be fine.”

In other words, yes, but he didn’t want to admit it.

“I’m coming down to you,” Shea said.

Her eyes began to adjust to the dim light. There must be an opening somewhere. True darkness in a cave is a black so deep and pervasive, that even the best eyes in the world wouldn’t be able to see a hand in front of their face. No light meant no sight. Since Shea could see, dim though it was, it meant light was filtering through.

She slung her leg over the edge and carefully felt her way down. It was slow going and left her muscles clenched at the anticipation that the next grip would be her last.

“Almost there,” Trenton said as Shea inched her way down. “Few more feet.”

His voice sounded close. Shea descended until one foot touched the ground. She turned to find Trenton propped against a wall. He looked terrible, cuts and bruises on his face, one hand clasped against his ribs.

She knelt beside him, looking him over. The way he held his arm to the side of his body and kept his breaths light and shallow made her suspect he had broken, or at least cracked, a few ribs. Not surprising given the height he’d fallen from.

“I’m fine, Shea.”

She ignored his words. “Can you move your arms?”

She gave him a serious look that said she wasn’t moving from this spot until he humored her. He rolled his eyes but moved each arm, demonstrating that they were working.

“What about your legs?”

He shifted, bending one leg then the other.

At least that was something. It didn’t mean he hadn’t cracked a bone, but he should be able to walk out of here at least. The more pressing concern was internal bleeding. For now, he was mobile, which was good because carrying him out of here would be very difficult. Not impossible, but it would probably take everything in her to accomplish it.

“Do you think they found the entrance?” Trenton asked.

“I hope so.”

Neither one wanted to think what would happen if they hadn’t.

Trenton looked up to where the sky used to be. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to climb out the way we came.”

Shea agreed. “I don’t think you’ll be climbing anywhere in the shape you’re in.”

His chuckle cut off in a wheeze of pain. “Somehow I think you’re right.”

She eyed him with worry. She didn’t know if she’d be able to carry him out of here and leaving him behind wasn’t a choice.

Trenton understood what she didn’t say. “You should go on without me. You’ll move faster.”

“That’s not happening.”

“You’re letting sentiment cloud your judgment. You and I both know we won’t make it out of here if you wait on me. Go, find the others and then come back for me.”

“I do that and there’s no guarantee I’ll find my way back. For all you know, this place is a maze.”

“It’s a risk you have to take.” He looked up at her, his eyes fogged with pain.

Shea met his gaze with a steely one of her own. She wasn’t leaving him behind.

“Did I ever tell you about the oath all pathfinders have to make once they pass their ceremony?”

He shut his eyes and huffed. “You rarely talk about that part of your life and then only with Fallon.”

He had a point. She had been closemouthed when it came to life before her adoption into the Trateri. She had been so focused on not inadvertently revealing something that might tempt the Trateri in the direction of the Highlands that she now wondered whether that energy might have been better spent elsewhere.

“Once we pass our last phase, we take an oath.”

Trenton closed his eyes and leaned his head back, his face one of resignation. Shea smiled knowing he could guess where she was going with this.

“We vow that those we lead into the wilderness will not be left behind—even if it costs us our lives. So, you see, I can’t leave you behind. It would violate my oaths.”

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