Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2) - T.A. White Page 0,107

eagles, they will sound the horn so our vulnerable can take cover.” Eckbert’s eyes landed on where Chirron was tending to her cuts and softened. “I am glad to see your adventures haven’t left you too worse for wear.”

Shea stiffened as her eyes slid to Fallon. She’d been hoping he wouldn’t hear about her jumping onto the back of a golden eagle while it was in flight. The downward turn of his mouth said that was a futile hope and probably had been since the beginning. The Trateri gossiped as much as any group of old wives she had encountered in the Highlands.

“Thank you,” she told Eckbert. “Your men’s assistance saved my life and Mist’s. I don’t think I would have been able to get the eagle to drop us if they hadn’t attacked it from above.”

“Yes, you have my gratitude,” Fallon said, his voice a deep rumble. “Your people have shown honor and bravery. I will be glad to have them in my army.”

Eckbert eyes got that familiar crafty gleam. “Perhaps my men will bring back Trateri wives and cement our bond by combining our bloodlines.”

Fallon’s lips twisted in amusement. “Perhaps.

“Did you lose many?” Trenton asked.

Eckbert’s eyebrows lowered and his cheeks sagged. Sadness coated his face. “Any loss cuts deep. Our people weren’t prepared, many of our most vulnerable fell to these creatures.”

“Has there ever been an attack of this nature before?” Shea asked, leaning to the side so she could see Eckbert better. She received a cuff to the head from Chirron. She glared up at him but sat back and let him clean the wound.

“I’ve asked my elders to review our oral history. I can say they haven’t attacked in so many generations that they’ve faded from our collective memory. It seems many things that were once myth are returning to this world.” His face turned grim. “I fear my people are not prepared for this.”

Shea feared the same. The Airabel knew the dangers of their forest and could slip through it like ghosts. With the outside world encroaching on their lives, they would have to adjust quickly or fall into the void like so many villages before them.

“Have your men get in touch with the Wind Division commander, Eamon,” Shea said. “He can give you some basic information about what you might be facing.”

It wasn’t much, but it was all she could give right now.

“What about your people?” Eckbert asked. “I know they have much knowledge that can be shared, and we have been on friendly terms in the past.”

Shea’s gaze turned inwards. The pathfinders, for all their knowledge, were loath to help others seeking guidance. They hoarded what they knew like dragons on a pile of gold, viewing any who had not taken their oaths as being unworthy.

“They are far from here. It would take months for any message you sent to reach them and be returned.” Shea settled on her response.

“And the pathfinder Reece?” Eckbert lifted an eyebrow, intelligence shining in his face. This was no befuddled old man. There was a reason he’d gotten to his position. Shea was willing to bet he used the persona of a kindly old man only intent on procreation to lure many off their guard. “I assume he is still alive. He could have much to share with us.”

Fallon unfolded his arms. “He is alive, but he will stay with us. I still have business with him.”

Yes, the pathfinder Reece. A man who had shown up mere days before this attack.

Chirron held up a needle and thread. “Hold still.”

He pulled the skin taut.

Something didn’t sit right with Shea. There was more to this. And she was betting Reece had some of the answers.

Shea pushed Chirron’s hands away, ignoring his squawk of protest. “I want to see Reece.”

She popped to her feet without waiting for a response.

“Where do you think you’re going? Sit back down. I still need to stitch up your wounds.” Chirron’s voice was angry as it followed her out of the tent.

Fallon was beside her. “Shea.”

“Where is he?” Shea waited a beat, holding Fallon’s eyes. He frowned at her, his eyebrows lowering.

She turned away. Fine. If he wasn’t going to answer, she’d find him herself even if she had to search every tent in this place.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“YOU’RE GOING the wrong way,” Fallon informed her.

Shea stopped, her shoulders tightening before she did an about face. Fallon waited for her with an expression that was both expectant and amused. She swept by him and stalked along the