by Krystal Wade
“I’m a disappointment, aren’t I?” I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants and allow him to help me up.
Keeping his hold on me, Arland tugs me back the way we came. “You are not a disappointment. I can imagine many people in your position running far away from this, but here you are. You are doing incredibly well. Have faith in yourself; discovering magic may take time.”
“Time Brad doesn’t have—time this world doesn’t have.”
“There will be time,” he says, leading me away from the ledge. “There must be time.”
On our way back to base, Arland remains quiet. We travel through the underbrush, twigs breaking under our feet. He turns his head turns toward every sound and movement in the forest, but Arland never tenses up the way I do.
Reaching the door in the ground, he bends to open it. I enter first, walking halfway down the stairwell. Sliding the bar and locks, he follows me, then heads down the corridor toward communications.
“I will meet you in your room.”
I nod. Making my way through the kitchen and dining area, my spirit feels empty. How am I supposed to learn old magic, when no one knows how to use it? How can I help this world, when I cannot create a simple spark in my hand? How will I save Brad? See Mom? Brit?
Pushing through the door, I remove the useless sword from my holster, then lean it back against the wall. I change into my nightgown, then crawl into bed.
Arland enters the room, breathing heavily. Picking up the chair, he returns it to its spot along the wall, then stands beside me.
“If I am next to you, maybe the dreams will not appear as real,” Arland says, undressing. He lifts the covers on the bed, then lies on the spot next to me.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I ask, my heart racing, chest tight.
He drapes his arm over me, providing extra comfort.
“I would not offer if I were not okay with this.” Arland was hesitant earlier, but somewhere between seeing my reaction to the dream and taking me out to kill the daemons, he must have found resolve.
The thought crosses my mind about how this would look to Brad, if he woke up and found me in here with another man, but it’s not like we’re dating. Unfortunately, I think Arland is joining me only because he feels bad about the dreams I’ve had of him dying. But already, with my sworn protector next to me, the isolation is going away.
We face each other, bodies pressed together. I close my eyes and force myself to drift back to sleep—before he changes his mind.
Chapter Eleven
The morning comes. I’m refreshed for the first time in years. Arland’s arms are wrapped around me. I snuggle into him closer, breathing in the warmth of his body. I enjoy his touch; it’s familiar and welcome.
“You are awake,” he says, voice smooth and confident. Arland doesn’t speak with even a hint of the nervousness I’m experiencing.
“Barely,” I tease.
“No more dreams?”
“None at all. Did you speak to your dad about my dreams?” Sudden curiosity about what they mean hits me like a ton of bricks. I cannot believe the question didn’t occur to me when we were talking last night.
Dreams have been such a major part of my life for so long I cannot think of the last time I slept without having a single glimpse of one. Well, other than the two days I was drugged, but those don’t count. Last night started out rough, but I wonder if having Arland next to me worked like he believed it would, or if the dreams decided to stop for the night. Whatever the case, I’m glad to have gotten some decent rest.
“He does not have an answer. He said your mother should know. All the more reason for us to get to her.” Arland brings my hope of knowledge crashing right back down. His arms unclasp the hold he has on me, leaving me in the bed by myself, so he can dress. He slides his long muscular legs into his pants—every bit of him is perfection.
“You should get dressed, too. We have a full day of training and stable duty,” he says, without looking at me.
I scramble out of bed, tripping over my boots and almost falling on my face.
“Are you okay?” Arland asks, sliding his hand around my arm and helping me up.
Nodding, I grab my clothes, then jump on one leg while trying to shove the other in pants. “Stable duty? How come you didn’t tell me last night?”
Arland gives a hearty laugh. “I came up with the idea this morning. You know, you might be the only person here who finds the stables exciting. You are not afraid of hard work, are you?” A tinge of doubt peppers his question.
“I don’t consider taking care of animals a chore. I’m happy to take over that duty from now on, if that’s okay?”
“Flanna is going to love you even more than she already does.”
Arland turns his head; I take off the gown, then slip on my shirt. After we’re dressed, we walk from the room and into our busy day together. I’m feeling the happiest I’ve been since Brad and I arrived, but Arland appears emotionless.
On our way to the kitchen, Arland gathers soldiers from the dining tables and tells them to meet him in the communications room.
“I will return shortly,” Arland says.
I shrug. “I’ll be here.”
Leaving me with Flanna, he continues down the corridor.
Flanna prepares breakfast for the two morning rushes, darting between the fire, the sink, and a bag of potatoes.
I walk over to stand next to her, watching as she chops with precision, then tosses the food into a skillet. “Can I help you with anything?”
“I thought you would never ask,” Flanna says, handing me her knife and pointing to the bag on the floor. She must hate potatoes; this is the second time she’s given me the vegetables to work on.
She scrambles eggs over the fire burning in the stone hearth and teaches me how to roast the potatoes I wash and finish cubing. The smells of breakfast float through the air. Yawning children stumble into the kitchen on their way to the dining room; Flanna and I rush plates of warm food to them, rather than making them serve themselves from the buffet table.
“So how was your night with Arland?” she asks with a wink when we re-enter the kitchen.
“It was nice. We talked all night long.” I fight back a yawn of my own.
Her eyebrow raises. “Uh-huh.”
“Trust me.” I gather more filled plates and run them out to the next group of children streaming in.
“You know you can tell me anything,” she says, after I return to collect more food.
I ignore Flanna, and by the time we finish preparing the second round of breakfast, she stops asking. She’s either given up and believes me, or she figures I’ll never tell her—either is fine by me.
Arland comes back from the communications room with the small group of soldiers. “Sit with me,” he tells me, as if I’m one of his men.
“Yes, sir,” I say, deepening my voice.
He cocks his head to the side, then turns away, setting off wild flutters in my stomach. Maybe teasing him in front of the others isn’t such a good idea?
I bite my lip and follow him to a table in the center of the dining room; Flanna and Cadman join us, and we eat our meal.
“I cannot wait to see you take Arland down today, Kate,” Flanna says.
There’s shuffling under the table, followed by a loud thump.
“Ow! What was that for?” Flanna scowls at Arland.
He ignores her, but they share a serious look.
“Your fighting skills are quite advanced. I was not aware people in The Meadows had been so well trained,” Cadman says.
“I—”
“Her family had been growing frustrated from the lack of light. They were prepared to join in the fight even before they were attacked.” Arland breaks his staring contest with Flanna, answering for me.
Cadman returns to eating his breakfast without looking at me again.
Arland seems to be going to great lengths to protect my identity, but I wonder why he does it. M
y presence could bring the people hope; as much as I’m glad not everyone knows my prophecy, it’s unfair to withhold hope from them.
Banging echoes through the dining area. Lann bursts from the kitchen and rushes up to our table. He gives Arland a wild-eyed look that forces him out of his chair in an instant.
“Excuse me.” Arland’s tone is calm, but he runs to the kitchen with Lann on his heels.
I’ve never seen Arland react so fast. What could upset him like this? Have the spells failed? Have daemons found us? My heart races; I’m paralyzed and I don’t even know why.
“What was that?” I ask Flanna.
“Do I look like a mind reader?” she says, staring after Arland.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, then Lann returns and seats himself next to me.
“Arland instructed me to continue with your training this morning. He will meet you over there as soon as he can. Flanna and Cadman will inspect the trail before we head over,” Lann says.
“Okay. Is everything alright?” I ask not sure how to respond to him. Lann was so at ease the first time we met, and now he regards me with formality.
“We had a small security breach at the perimeter; nothing too far out of the ordinary.” He steals a glance at Flanna.
My instincts tell me whatever Arland is up to is not ordinary. His agonizing screams when the daemons attacked him in my dream inundate my thoughts.
“So are we ready to go now?” I stand, hoping to busy myself with training so I can try to stop worrying about Arland.
“Do you still want something warmer to wear?” Flanna asks.
“I’ll be fine, thanks.” I might as well begin acclimating to the cold now.
Lann nods, sending Flanna and Cadman up through the door in the earth to make sure the path is secure. We follow close behind, pausing at the top. A double rap comes on the old wood above our heads; Lann pushes it open, so we can step into the dark forest for our short walk to the training facility.
I didn’t look around the woods much yesterday—with Arland by my side, I didn’t feel the need to. Without his supporting hand around mine, I constantly look over my shoulder, sure that a daemon will attack any moment. Focusing on the trees, I find we’re in a dense forest of mixed pines, oaks, maples, and chestnuts. Most of those I see only as we pass a couple feet from them.
Grasses tall enough to reach my waist still grow along either side of us, but even those are dry and ready to die. The majority of the trees, with their wilted—and some dead—leaves, look as though they will fall over any day. I try to imagine a world without a forest like the one I’ve hiked in my entire life. All I can think of is the vision I had on Goat’s Ridge. Nothing but Darkness, and one light, very far away. Is that what would happen if all of life was smothered out?
Arriving at the entry of the training facility, I sense my paranoia at being exposed subside. My shoulders lower and I take a deep breath. We descend the stairs into the candlelit room, then Lann and I take our spots in the middle. A small crowd gathers around us while we go through the motions of sword fighting.
My heart is not into the lesson today; all I can think about is Arland out there, fighting off some horrible monsters in my name, dying some death I’ve already seen him die in my dreams a thousand times over.
Everyone is watching, eyes boring through me. No one should expect anything out of me, but I’m sure the soldiers know something is different, since I’m sharing a room with their leader.
Lann knocks my sword out of my hand a dozen or so times. “Do you plan on allowing daemons to kill you so easily?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t seem to focus.”
“You will not be given a second opportunity out there,” he says, pointing his sword at the ceiling.
It’s true. If Lann were a daemon, I’d be dead. I know if I don’t step up soon, he’s going to throw in the towel and practice with someone else. I’m worthless today.
We keep practicing, for now, but my attempts to fight go on without enthusiasm, until the crowd gathered around us breaks up. With me moping about, they have nothing to watch.
A few small groups form around the room, training with different weapons. All of the soldiers seem tired, many show signs of old injuries, and some have new ones. I wonder how many battles they’ve seen, if their families are still alive, if they have a home to go to, once this is over.
“I realize I haven’t met too many of the other soldiers. Can we trade partners?” I ask Lann.
“Saidear, would you like to train with Kate?” He sounds hopeful.
Saidear, who looks to be about the same age as my stepfather, gives a quick shake of his head, indicating he would not like that at all.
“Tristan?” Lann asks.
Even the eager Tristan refuses to train with me, when we did so well together yesterday. Why is it they refuse to work with me? Sure, I’m pathetic today, but is there something about me they don’t like?
Lann calls out to a couple others, but young and old alike, no one is willing to step up.
Now I feel like a jerk.
“I will train with her,” says a soldier, stepping from the back of the room.
I haven’t met, or even seen, him around the base. He has blond hair, pale green eyes that could almost pass for white, and skin fairer than most—which is saying something, since none of these people has seen the full sun in twenty years. Most of the men have strong, well-built bodies, but this one appears only an inch or so taller than me. He’s not muscular, and he seems even smaller in stature than the child, Marcus. No way can this man be a soldier.
“No, Perth, that will not be necessary. Go back to training with your assigned partner.” Lann’s voice is cold.
“You called for anyone willing to work with her. Well, I am willing.” One corner of Perth’s mouth twists up into a wicked grin.
Reading this situation is easy enough: Lann doesn’t like Perth, but I wish to know why. My lips stay closed as the two of them exchange harsh spoken words in a strange language I cannot understand.
“Fine.” Lann steps aside, allowing Perth to take a defensive stance in front of me.
I look to Lann for approval.
He nods, but his narrowed eyes suggest he’s unhappy.
“Are you ready?” Perth asks.
“Yes.” I hold my shield in front of my heart.
He attacks.
Our swords clang off each other, I step back, forward, back, to the side. I’m still not as agile as when Arland is around, but I’m certainly more involved than when fighting with Lann.
I’m positive it’s Lann’s formality which bothers me. I need someone to fight with who doesn’t expect me to be a hero. We go on like this for what feels like twenty minutes or so, before I become tired of fighting and am ready to stop. Yesterday was different. Not once after we started did I feel like my sword was heavy, and not once did I feel as though I couldn’t breathe.
“You must be special.” Perth swings his sword over my head, missing me.
“Why do you say that?” I ask, trying to take his feet out from under him.
“The Great Arland Maher has taken you into his bed,” he says, loud enough to bring the eyes of the crowd upon him.
“It’s not what you think.” I have to defend Arland. His people respect him, and it needs to remain that way. I should never have asked him to stay with me last night, but even as I think that, I still wish for him to be near me again tonight.
I lower my sword, intending to take a break. Being partnered with someone who is obviously trying to cause some sort of trouble is not a good idea.
Perth strikes my shield, slicing straight through the wood and leather. His blade stops an inch from my neck. His hold does not loosen. I look from the tip of his sword up to his ice-cold gaze. The way he regards me is disturbing; there’s something in him not quite right. Maybe this is why Lann didn’t want him to train with me in the first place.
Lann rushes forward, but before he reaches us, i
nstincts take over and I hit Perth’s head with the flat side of my sword.
“Ow!” He yelps. “Why did you do that?” The cold look in his eyes is replaced with something normal and playful.
“Next time, remember I’m not your real enemy.” My voice comes out like a growl.
“You will never learn if you are not scared.” Perth walks away, rubbing his head.
His words strike me; I wonder if he knows something about the prophecy. Maybe the people here are not as in the dark as Arland believes they are.
Flanna approaches, replacing Perth as my partner. “He deserved that. If you had not defused that minor situation, Lann probably would have killed Perth for coming that close to hurting you,” she whispers, then spins around me, striking my broken shield without enthusiasm.
We’re not really fighting. It’s more like gossiping.
“What’s his problem?” I ask with a hushed voice.
“You should talk to Arland about that,” Flanna says.
Oh, My, God, I have a lot to talk to Arland about. It’s beyond me how I could have forgotten to ask him what he meant by Only as human as the rest of us are, and now I have to ask about Perth, too.
Flanna and I take a break and sit in the back corner of the facility for a while. Anna and Marcus join us. The two of them ramble on about what they want to be when they grow up.
“What are you?” Anna asks me.
“A soldier.”
Anna crosses her eyes and laughs. “What will you do after you are done being a soldier?”
The small army assembled here is supposed to believe I’m a new recruit from their world. I’m sure it will get out eventually I’m not from here—or rather, I am, and I have a prophecy, but for now I must act normal.
“I’d like to be an animal Healer,” I say, which is the truth, but I’m not sure in what world that future lies.
“That is what I wish to become!”
“What’s your favorite animal?” I ask.
“The horse.”
“You know, Anna, horses are my favorite animal, too.”
