Page 120 of A Land So Wide
Greer started to refute it, started to tell him everything the hunters in Laird said, the way the Bright-Eyeds’ presence had shifted the landscape, taking too much, devouring everything in their sight. But she stopped short, her mind catching on a small detail she’d only now just noticed.
“Finn…you said it was just Mama and Elowen who’d attacked Laird.”
He nodded.
“How big is the Gathered now?”
He stared at her, unblinking. “I…I don’t know. I’ve been away for so many years, watching over you and Ailie. I…” He swallowed, the line of his jaw hardening. “At least a dozen. Probably more.”
She gaped at him.
Two Bright-Eyeds had annihilated Laird. Now there were over a dozen. She couldn’t fathom the destruction such a number couldunleash. She sank her fingers into the plush folds of the cloak, her mind reeling.
The girl and her grandfather and the rest of their people.
Louise and Martha and all of Mistaken.
Towns she’d never heard of.
People she’d never met.
They were all in danger. It wasn’t enough to kill Elowen. It wasn’t enough to take her mother’s place and attempt to bring in an age of reason and moderation. She’d felt the dark stirrings of the Bright-Eyeds’ wild blood within her. Such abominations could not be allowed to exist.
She needed to destroy them all.
She needed to end everything Resolution Beaufort had begun.
Greer released a long, shaky breath and threw her pack over her shoulders. “All right. I’m ready to meet the Gathered.”
41
It was nearlymidnight when Greer and Finn rounded the final bend. A splintered sign spanned the road, welcoming all travelers to the Sandry Mining Company. It had once been bright with color, but after so many harsh seasons without care, the paint had faded and peeled so badly the words were nearly illegible.
The storm had temporarily eased, clouds parting to allow moonlight to brighten the abandoned site. With her newly enhanced vision, Greer could see each of the camp’s remaining structures with crystalline detail.
The site was…rough.
Decades of neglect had taken their toll. Greer wondered what the miners had dug for, what precious resources they’d hauled out of the mountain before the Bright-Eyeds had attacked, putting a stop to operations.
A scattering of buildings bordered a work yard: an office and bunkhouse, a fenced pen for horses and pack mules, a blacksmith’s forge, and several other smaller shacks Greer couldn’t identify. They were all falling apart, with caved-in roofs and broken windows, so thoroughly covered in moss and mold it seemed the forest was swallowing them whole. Behind Sandry was the vertical face of the mountain, loomingover the camp like a sentinel. At its base was a large opening, braced by heavy timbers and stones: the entrance to the mine itself.
Greer felt a wave of gooseflesh break over her as she studied its darkness. It seemed to be alive, a sentient, knowing thing that watched her with equal interest.
The ground going into the tunnel was scarred with pockmarks and nearly impassable. She recalled the lengths of tracks discarded throughout the forest below. The Bright-Eyeds had torn them up, cast them out, and never bothered to repair the mess. Who cared for roads when you could fly?
Hidden in the shadows of the stables, Greer and Finn waited, scarcely drawing breath as they listened to the sounds around them.
Nothing stirred.
She’d expected to see some evidence of the Gathered: sentries posted, an aerial watch drifting soundlessly on air currents above, flickers of eye-shine roosted in nearby trees.
But there was nothing.
“Where is everyone?” she whispered.
Finn gestured toward the mine’s entrance, then flexed his hand, indicating a steep decline, a lower depth. There would be dozens of shafts, and even more smaller corridors splitting off the main thoroughfare, a veritable maze. They’d talked through what Finn remembered of the mine as they’d hiked and had agreed it would be best if Elowen could be drawn out into the open.
Greer was excellent at finding the lay of the land, at tracking her way through regions uncharted, but a mine was different. She’d have no landmarks, no frame of reference. There would be no sun or stars to guide her way.
