Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2) - T.A. White Page 0,138

ground in front of her was a branch of some old tree, much like the one she held in her hand. Wrapped around the end was a wad of white fabric. She thought she even detected cobwebs, which made lighting torches simple because they acted as kindling would for a campfire.

She picked up the torch and held it close to her face. The smell wasn’t familiar, but Shea would bet everything she had that it was some sort of slow burning accelerant.

“Is that a torch?” Trenton asked from behind her.

Shea made noncommittal sound.

“How did a torch happen to land right in front of you?”

That was a very good question. One she suspected she knew the answer to.

“So, the stories were true,” she said in a soft voice.

“What stories?”

Shea stood and dusted off her pants. “The ones that say we’re probably not alone in these caverns.”

Trenton’s hand went to the knife sheathed at his side as he looked around the passageway with a sudden suspicion. She shook her head. Whoever had left this was long gone.

Shea looked at the torch for a moment before tucking it into the belt of her pants. She lifted her other torch high above her and looked around. The passage they were in was narrow with no offshoots that another person could hide in.

How did their gift giver get so close without making a sound? As the chimes picked up again, Shea conceded that it was likely that the person’s approach had been masked. But how had they known where to set down their gift so that Shea would find it? It was far more likely that she would have walked right past it.

Shea gave up on solving the mystery. It was far more important to get back to the group than to go hunting for the denizens of these caverns.

She knew whoever had left this was likely long gone by now, but still she didn’t feel right without giving thanks. Shea was pretty sure that they would have been in a lot of trouble without the gift.

She bent her head and said a silent prayer of gratitude, before lifting it and humming a melody that rose and fell with the chimes. It sounded rather nice, if she did say so herself.

“What do you mean we’re not alone?” Trenton asked.

“Let’s get going,” Shea said, not wanting to lose any more time. That sense of urgency was still riding her hard. “I’ll explain as we move.”

Trenton hobbled after her as Shea prepared to tell him a story—one she barely remembered since it had been so long since she’d heard it herself.

“I don’t remember what started it or why it came to be, if I ever knew in the first place, but it’s said this place is named after a man called Lodi. He was said to be a great protector in the old world, someone who led his people with strength and wisdom.” Shea held the torch so Trenton could see where to duck. “I’m not sure if this happened during or after the Cataclysm, but it’s said that he and his people were attacked by a great army. To save them, he retreated to this place. That plain we were on—a great battle waged there as he and his men made a last stand to give his people time to retreat and seek shelter in the Highlands. It’s said that after that battle finished, Bearan’s fault grew by several feet and the entrance was smoking rubble.”

Shea paused to catch her breath. Spelunking through a small passageway was more physically demanding than she remembered—all of the twisting and bending.

“If the entrance was reduced to rubble, how were your people able to uncover it,” Trenton asked as he took a break.

Shea shrugged, the dim light making the movement more dramatic than it was. “I don’t know that part. All I can tell you are the parts I remember, which aren’t many.”

“How does that story relate to what left us that torch?”

Shea unfolded from the bent over position she’d had to use to get through that last section. The tunnel before her opened up, allowing her to stand upright and proceed without having to turn sideways. She was grateful for that fact because Trenton’s progress was getting slower each time he had to bend over.

The torch she held flickered. It was close to being spent. She pulled out the one that had been left for them and held it against the guttering flame. It caught fire easily, the flame