Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2) - T.A. White Page 0,15

the encampment unattended or venture out there without people to watch your back.”

“I’ve never had a problem before now.”

“Before, you were just one of many. Fallon has spent a lifetime accumulating enemies. You’ve helped uncover a few of them.” Daere gave Shea a meaningful glance. Shea looked away. She still had trouble thinking about her involvement in those deaths. “That was just the beginning. There are many who would strike at him through you. If you care about him at all, you won’t fight his men when they try to protect you.”

Shea didn’t have anything to say to that. Daere’s words made her feel like a willful child putting herself in needless danger.

The men joined them. Trenton’s gaze darted between the two women. He’d witnessed many of these scenes where Daere lectured Shea, and Shea steadfastly ignored it.

“Glad to see you two are ready,” Wilhelm said in an affable voice.

Shea could never tell if he felt the tension or just failed to notice. Either way, he’d broken up several stare downs between Daere and her over the last few weeks.

Shea had met Wilhelm at the same time she’d met Fallon—when she saved both from execution by a mob of angry lowland villagers who were convinced the two of them were snooping around in preparation of stealing their horses. She hadn’t known who Fallon and Wilhelm were then, just that the villagers had tried to kill two of her own men, and she wasn’t going to let them have the satisfaction of killing anyone else.

Shea was grateful for his presence. Of the two Anateri, Trenton was more likely to egg Daere and Shea on, but then, he was a sadistic bastard. She had bruises from their latest training session that could attest to that.

“We’d better get going. I don’t think Eamon will wait,” Wilhelm said.

Trenton’s mouth quirked in a half smile as he observed the two women. His eyes gleamed as he took in their tense postures.

Daere gave Shea a considering look, her amber eyes giving no hint to her internal thoughts. Shea stared back with a calm expression. It was the same one she used to give to her charges when she fully intended to ignore whatever they said and do things her own way.

“Let’s get moving,” Daere said, shocking Shea by giving in. “As Wilhelm said, the Western Wind Division’s commander is likely to leave without us if we’re late.”

She turned and strode to where Shea just now noticed a pack similar to the one she was carrying lying on the ground. Daere shouldered it and walked off in the direction of the horse corrals near the Wind Division side of camp.

Shea blinked at Trenton and Wilhelm as they lost no time in following Daere. Trenton winked at her as he passed.

What had just happened? She’d expected a much bigger argument from at least two of them.

Not wanting to question her good fortune, Shea followed in their wake. If only getting her way was always that easy.

*

The horse shifted under her, its uneasiness reflecting Shea’s own. She’d been antsy all morning, her skin feeling like a swarm of angry bees buzzed under it. It was a familiar feeling, but not one she’d ever thought to have this deep into the Lowlands.

Daere, as had become typical over the last three days, stuck close to Shea, riding just to her left. She was always within one or two horse lengths. Shea didn’t know if it was because Daere worried she’d bolt or thought she could prevent Shea from doing something stupid if she stuck close.

The two Anateri were a little better, hanging back and giving Shea some semblance of space.

The rest of the party was spread out, Eamon and Buck somewhere in the front, and the rest of Eamon’s men bringing up the rear.

Despite the height of the horses, they were like ants next to the soul trees and the rest of the forest. Everything here grew on a massive scale—mushrooms that reached up to Shea’s shoulders, a flower that flourished in the shade of the trees and grew so high its leaves brushed the tops of their heads as the horses clopped their way past stalks as thick as Shea’s waist.

“How is everything so big?” Daere asked, staring up at the flat leaves of the flower. “It’s like it was built for giants.”

Shea agreed. “The villagers like to say that the gods were once giants and that they created this garden full of wondrous and terrible life. They fed it