Marcus tips his head toward Arland, then nudges his sister and Keely. “We need to go.”
The three of them walk to my mom, looking back every few steps, but I remain on the ground and wave, dampness soaking through my pants to my skin.
Mom stays in place and looks me over with one of those I’m-trying-not-to-cry-but-I-really-want-to looks, a smile and grimace fighting for control of her face. “I love you,” she mouths, always in control of her emotions, maintaining her Leader stature.
“I love you, too, Mom,” I whisper, wishing she’d run over and wrap me up in a hug.
“Kate, it is time.” Arland takes my hand, sending warmth to my heart, and lifts me to my feet.
Brice and Deverell lead our horses up the hill. Mirain glows a bluish-white in the moonlight. She whinnies, curling her tail over her back. I’d forgotten how beautiful she is, after living underground all these weeks without going for a ride.
Deverell hands over her reins.
“Thank you,” I say.
He smiles and places his fist over his heart.
Mirain is outfitted with a saddle adorned with several satchels full of food and supplies, my sword, a bow, and a quiver full of arrows. I press my forehead against hers. “Hey, girl.”
She sighs, huffing out a plume of white steam.
Arland pats Bowen’s brown shoulder, staring at his dad. “Thank you, Father, for arranging this for us. It means more to Kate and me than you may understand.”
“I did not arrange this, son. Dufaigh did.” Leader Maher hugs his son. “I received your message and will do my best,” he whispers so low I’m sure no one but Arland and I hear.
My father-in-law turns then walks back down the hill, taking everyone else with him.
I raise an eyebrow and hold my breath. What was that? “What did he mean, Dufaigh set this up?” And what message, I add telepathically.
Arland shakes his head. “I will explain to you soon.”
“Promise?”
He squeezes my hand. “Always.”
“I cannot imagine my father doing such a thing.” Perth stares at the people leaving, tears pooling at the edges of his brilliant green eyes. He’s changed so much. “He did not care enough about me even to say goodbye.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Flanna mutters as though she feels too sorry for Perth to be sarcastic. “Are we going to get started, or are we going to stand around holding hands and our horses until this war ends itself?”
I look up at Arland; he’s focused on the bridge, eyes intent, mouth slightly open. “Arland?”
“You should lead us beyond the perimeter.” He turns his attention to me, a small smile growing up one side of his face. “And I do believe we should try to remain connected, as a symbol of our unity. I am sure Griandor and the other gods will appreciate it.”
Mounting Mirain, I concentrate on my fire then release it from my heart. My chest burns. Flames emerge, rippling over my skin and garments, reaching out to my toes and fingers. I close my eyes and think of love, think of friendship, family, loyalty, and trust.
Blue fire arcs from me, engulfing the others and bringing them under my control. Old magic protects them.
“Can you guys hear me?”
“Yes,” they think in unison.
“Then we’re connected. Let’s go.”
Kicking my heels into Mirain, we start forward and cross the bridge, venturing into the unknown, into the war.
Chapter Four
My breath catches as I glance up the side of a grey-stone cliff, taking in the expansive dark hole in the middle. A cave. Arland brought me to a cave. Why? Does he want to die? Does he want my visions to come true? We’ve only been traveling for a few hours; there’s no need for us to rest.
Sensing my tensed muscles, Mirain stops.
“You’ve got to be kidding, Arland.” Brit tugs on the reins of her reddish-brown mare, slowing her progress. “Weren’t you paying attention when we wrote the details from Kate’s visions? How could you expect us to stop here?”
Perth snorts and shakes his head, sliding from his horse. “She had you leave the communications room so she could recount the details from the dream about the cave. Even I had to leave the room, because she feared I would tell you if I knew.”
I look between them as they banter around me, waiting for Flanna to chime in with some witty remark, waiting for Arland or even Cadman to put Perth in his place, waiting for something. I’m too shocked to speak.
Arland draws Bowen to a standstill, squares his shoulders, then narrows his eyes and focuses on Perth. “We are not resting here, Brit, merely waiting.”
He clenches his fists and marches toward my love, sparking a rage in the pit of my stomach—we’re supposed to be beyond fighting.
Perth growls. “Tell me, Arland, what is the difference? Do you want to get us killed? Do you want your bhean chéile to end this war alone?”
No one moves. The moon has long since disappeared from over our heads. Silence blankets the forest, making this argument that much louder.
Meeting eyes with Perth, I take a deep breath. “Stop.”
I sound calmer than I am. We might as well light a beacon and announce to Dughbal and all his daemons that we’re right here and available for a fight.
“We need to trust each other. We’ve only just begun this and already we’re at each other’s throats.” I turn my gaze to Arland. “What are we waiting for?”
Arland smiles, holding his attention on Perth. “Your army.”
I press my hand to my chest, my heart fluttering wildly. “What … ?”
Arland climbs from Bowen, passes the reins to Flanna, then stands beside me. He offers me his hand, his face void of the playful emotion he showed just a second ago. “You saw Dufaigh’s eyes. Everyone else’s changed, but not his.”
“I did.” I remember the milky-white appearance the cruel Ground Dweller’s eyes had before we left. He said I revealed his faults to him, revealed a future scarier than he could imagine, yet when it was time for us to leave, chills are what he gave me.
“I know Griandor wanted everyone to be united, and here we all stand, but something tells me Perth’s father is still playing games. In good conscience, I could not allow soldiers to stay under his command while we may need their aid.”
Taking hold of Arland, I allow him to help me from Mirain. I turn and pat my horse’s brilliant white shoulder, and she sighs.
“Is that what your father meant about your message?” I whisper, looking into his emerald eyes.
He flashes a lopsided grin. “Yes. I am surprised that question did not come sooner.”
“You promised you’d tell me. I didn’t doubt that, but I don’t think any of them understand.” I point with my thumb toward the others.
Flanna is atop her horse, picking bark off a nearby oak tree with the tip of her sword. Brit props her fists on her hips, scowling at Arland. Perth and Cadman watch Flanna. She puts the broken bits from the trunk of the tree in a satchel attached to her saddle.
“What is she doing?” I ask, walking toward her to get a better view.
Arland tugs my hand, holding me with him. “She—”
“I am gathering healing agents. If additional soldiers are coming to fight, we need more first aid,” she says, her voice high-pitched, shaky … urgent. Flanna spins on her heel, narrowing her eyes. “Why did you keep this bit to yourself, Arland?”
He shrugs. “Part of my prophecy I never understood until the Ground Dwellers changed. However, as I said, I do not believe Leader Dufaigh changed much. After everyone witnessed Kate’s visions come to life, he had to concede to a different path. If not, he would have appeared as we all know him to be: hateful. But he seemed too eager with his help … am I correct, Flanna? Is that not why you chose to make Kate’s armor, because you did not trust him?”
A few pieces of bark fall from her hands, landing in a pile of dead leaves. I have no idea how those little pieces of wood will heal anyone … .
Flanna jumps from Luatha, then collects the dropped bits of oak. “I never trusted him—sorry, Kate. I believe the only reason he allowed us to leave is because he is under the impression if you and Kate save the world, he might have a chance to take control of Encardia.”
Perth gasps. He wants so much for his father to be normal, to be good, and this conversation must be shredding him on the inside.
Flanna stands, softening her expression to that of a mother cleaning the skinned knee of her child. “I apologize, Perth, but were you not upset when he did not see you off? He arranged everything for us to leave; he even had a large party gather for us. We were supposed to be united, but he did not join in while we walked toward the perimeter. Did his actions not seem odd to you?”
Perth looks toward me, glances at my fingers laced with Arland’s—making my heart sink to my stomach—slumps his shoulders, then nods. “Of course they seemed odd. I prayed he would change, but I am not naïve; I know he is still the same.”
Cadman rides his horse in a circle around us, squaring his shoulders, the corners of his mouth revealing the faintest of smiles. “Perth’s father did what he felt he must, sir. We have not endured our last battle with Leader Dufaigh, but our people are united as Griandor wished for them to be. The spell over most of the Ground Dwellers has been broken; however, Dufaigh has the power to replace it with something much worse, which is why your father granted your request for the soldiers—all of the soldiers—to meet us here.”
Flanna mutters something and hacks at the tree like someone chopping weeds with a machete.
Arland stiffens, but nothing about his appearance reflects the tension I know he’s feeling. The tension from being lied to by everyone close to him. “And what more of our lives do you know, Cadman? From my father’s farewell, it would seem you know much more than you have ever let on. I appreciate you being in good service to my family”—he tugs my hand—”all of my family, but you have been under my charge for how long? How did you keep up the lie all these years?” Arland shakes his head and holds up his left hand, waving it from side to side. “No, do not answer that. You are a great soldier; you did what you must.”
Cadman draws his horse to a stop, then looks down at Arland with his deep-set, big blue eyes. “We all do what we must to ensure no one strays from the path of Light, to protect Encardia, to protect you and Katriona.”
Arland meets the gaze of his loyal soldier. “Before we left Willow Falls, my father said he would see what he could do for my request, but here, you know for sure soldiers will come. When will they arrive?”
“Shh,” Cadman says, placing his index finger over his full lips. “Listen, and you will hear their approach.”
Flanna drops her sword and turns to her left, facing the dark forest, eyes wild, mouth pressed into a thin line. Brit and Perth tiptoe over to where Arland and I stand, and we all suck in a sharp breath.
Nothing. I hear nothing. Shaking my head, I turn to Cadman. “What are we supposed to he—?”
“Listen.” He points toward the trees.
I close my eyes, willing my ears to hear what Cadman insists I already should. The faint sounds of everyone breathing, of Brit shifting her weight from foot to foot, of Perth rubbing his palms together, of Flanna shoving more bark into her bag, and of my blood thrumming in my ears can be heard, but nothing else.
I take a deep breath. Reveal the sounds to me.
White sprites rise from the ground around my feet and swirl in small, lazy circles, waiting for instructions.
“Protect the soldiers while you’re at it … go,” I say, blowing out my breath, sending the old magic into the forest like a gust of wind whirling fallen leaves through the air.
Our group waits, watches, exchanges looks ranging from confused to irritated, until distant clues we aren’t alone drift toward us on wisps of silvery light.
Underbrush breaking beneath the weight of slow, thoughtful steps whispers in my ears. Heavy breaths from hours of trudging through the forest on foot warm my skin. Pinecones snap below more careless soldiers, below the feet of people who must have no idea what lies lurking all around them, soldiers who have probably never left the comforts of their base.
“Saidear, do you believe they are near?”
“Arland left word with his father they would stop near the Crossing Caves; it is only a mile … .”
The slim strands of light make a u-turn, heading back into the forest, back toward the direction of the soldiers.
“Did you hear that?” I ask Arland.
Staring after the magic, he nods, captivated by what took place. “It was as though they were standing right here with us, but Saidear said they were a mile away.” He turns to me, mesmerizing me with his intensity. “Damn the Leaders of old for banning us from using this magic. We could have spared so many lives with just an ounce of the powers you so easily conjure.”
“The Crossing Caves … ?” Perth turns around and gulps, glancing up the cliff face.
Brit marches the remaining distance toward Arland and me, hands still on her hips, eyes narrowed. “Oh no. I do not like the way Mr. Short and Skinny over here just looked up there,” she says, pausing to point at the cliff, then replaces her balled fist on her hip. “What are the Crossing Caves?”
“You need not worry, Brit … unless you are afraid of heights.” Flanna speaks for the first time since hacking like a lunatic at her healing tree bark. “Perth here has only crossed this path once in his life, judging by his reaction. When Arland and I were children and on the move, we passed through here many times. He was not bringing you to this cave to rest, but rather to cross the fastest way we know to The Meadows.”
Flanna spins Brit by the shoulders so she’s facing the wall of rock, then stands beside her. “Inside that dark entrance is a narrow stone path surrounded by a black ravine no one has ever dared measure the depths of. Sure, I kicked a pebble over the edge once, but I never heard it hit the ground. So, are you afraid?”
Brit flashes a beaming smile over her shoulder, then returns her attention to Flanna. “Of heights, absolutely not. Of you right now … a little.”
She laughs and pats Brit on the back. “Good to hear, but I believe Perth may have an issue containing his fear. My desired effect has been achieved.”
“Flanna!” I shout, exploding into blue flames. “He didn’t deserve that.”
Arland chuckles and rubs his hand across my shoulders. “Kate?”
There’s caution in his tone, and I don’t like it. I recognize he’s trying to calm me, but Flanna’s sudden burst of cruelty isn’t welcome. Ever. And it isn’t like her. Taking a deep breath, I focus on Perth’s shaky breathing, on his hands rubbing together, on his narrowed eyes. “You aren’t helping, Flanna. Do you want to scare him more?”
“I am not afraid of heights, Katriona, nor am I afraid of the Crossing Caves,” Perth says, staring at my Confidant.
“What is it then?” Concentrating on my magic, on my anger and love, I drive the flames back until they disappear over my heart. “You look afraid.”
“Only of memories … .”
Brit snorts. “Okay, so if he’s only afraid of memories and we’ll be crossing some deep ravine soon, can I ask the question that’s really bothering me?”
“And what question might that be?” Arland asks.
My sister looks to Cadman. “How did the soldiers catch up to us if they’re on foot?”
He smiles at my sister as if she’s a prized student. “Many were already on their way here, and they sent a few soldiers with a team of horses to meet the others.”
Arland’s deep, sinister waves of laughter drift into the night. “Now I know how you felt, Kate. Always in the dark. Always making a decision others already knew you would make. Always wondering about those around you.”
Cadman ignores Arland’s uncharacteristic outburst, strangely unsettling as it is, and slides from his horse, landing on the ground with a thud. The aging soldier approaches, pa
using between each step as though he’s afraid walking too fast will startle us. “I did not bring all the soldiers from Wickward into Willow Falls. I was unsure of what we would be met with and wanted Kate to have her army. When you suggested the six of us fight alone, Arland, I knew you were not entirely serious. No matter how strong we are, our small group cannot fight the daemons by ourselves. Dughbal we can seek out and kill, but I do not believe killing him will end the evil working for him.”
Cadman places a hand on Arland’s shoulder, then mine. “This place is laced with dark magic from a century ago, magic which instills fear and anger in the hearts of those near it.”
“Are you saying there’s a magical security system around the Crossing Caves?” Brit asks, raising her voice … and eyebrows.
Cadman turns to her. “Yes. When Ground Dwellers built the underground bases, they also infused the caves and surrounding areas with Nefarious spells. They were intended to keep out Darkness, but as you know, The Meadows was attacked first. The magic did little to help. And by all of the emotions coming from the five of you, it would seem we thwart only ourselves.”
“That certainly explains why we always moved fast when we traveled through these caves.” Arland’s jaw muscles tense. “But why are you not affected by these spells, and why does Kate not appear affected?”
“I am not sure about Kate, but maybe my age or knowledge of the magic helps me.” Cadman tilts his head to the side. “Or maybe because I was here when Perth’s mother jumped into the ravine because the spells scared her so deeply.”
Brit and Flanna gasp. I squeeze Arland’s fingers, heart retreating from my stomach and rising right in my throat. Only memories Perth said; only the worst kind of memories anyone should ever have.
“Perth, I’m … I’m so sorr—”
“Please, Katriona, whatever you do, do not feel sorry for me.” Perth returns to his horse. He places his foot in the left stirrup, then mounts. “I will ride to greet the others. Cadman was right to tell you what dangers we face, but I wish he would have been more discreet in doing so.”
Wilde's Meadow Page 3
