Where the Mist Meets the Mountain

Previously

…I tethered Dusty securely, whispering reassurances I didn’t feel. “Guard him,” I told him, though I knew he’d do his best. Then, drawing my Colt, I stepped into the darkness, the mist and the rockslide forgotten as a new, more ancient mystery beckoned. The game was far from over, and the stakes had just been raised to a level I hadn't dared to imagine. Thorne was playing his hand, and I was walking directly into his trap, armed with nothing but a father’s cryptic clues and a desperate need for answers.