“It seemed like a good idea at the time, and it fit a part of my prophecy. Before you ask ‘a small choice will be made in haste’ … .” She shrugs, flashing me a lopsided smile.
“So small equals the Bheagans, because they’re short?” A part of me wants to rip her to shreds for promising herself as payment, but her nonchalance for the situation makes me laugh. She’s lost so much—we all have—but she was willing to sacrifice everything for Encardia, as if her life is nothing.
I’m not going to allow her to go through with it though.
“Have you not seen them? They quantify the ‘small’ portion of my prophecy.” Flanna pats my shoulder. “Anyway, while most seemed happy with my cookware, it was not enough for their leaders to get involved.”
“Tarik is not their leader?”
“Tarik is as much a leader as Tristan.” She presses her mouth into a thin line. “And their actual leaders said they wanted power. We have the ability to manipulate fire. I showed that ability to them, and they were impressed, but not enough to join in the fight. They sent only Tarik and a rather dismal portion of their army.”
Cadman turns to me. “Until they saw you, ma’am. While the rest of us slept or hunted for food, Tarik took a small group of his men through the portal, shared your abilities with their leaders, then returned with demands.”
My insides shake, and I have to hold back a growl. “What demands?”
“They want you instead of Flanna—after the war ends, of course.” Cadman clasps one hand around the hilt of his sword.
“So send them home. I’m sick of everyone’s dark desires. They want more in order to help us, then send them packing. I’m done. Absolutely done.” I wave my hand in the direction of the fire where the greedy Bheagns have been sleeping—at least some of them. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go. Tell them to leave.”
Arland pulls me closer, erasing the distance between us with just a tug of my hand, calming my rage but not dissolving it. “It is not that easy, Kate. The Morans said if the Bheagans leave, they will, too. They already fear we are outnumbered … and weak.”
My muscles tense, and I narrow my eyes. “Weak?”
“They watch you—everyone watches you. You emanate power, confidence, and you have also been—”
“Throwing up. Yeah, I’m a pretty crappy Leader, huh?” Makes me wonder why the Bheagans want me … . I look up into Arland’s eyes, the anger fading right out of me, leaving me woozy. “Have I embarrassed you?”
Cupping my cheek in his palm, he laughs. “Far from it. Most of us have heaved the contents of our stomachs on this trip at least once. But our help expects more of you, because of your power, because of your prophecy. Seeing you show any kind of weakness causes fear to grow in their hearts. Seeing the rest of us follow suit has not helped much either.”
I wrap my arms around him and press my nose into his chest to block out the foul smells. “I’m not going to throw up again. I made the decision a while ago. I don’t care how sick I get. I’ll have the magic help me or something, but I won’t show weakness. Not anymore.”
“It may already be too late, ma’am,” Cadman says.
“Here comes the midget leader and his oversized counterpart now,” Flanna says, sarcasm dripping from her every word.
Dropping my arms from Arland, I step away. I clasp my hands behind my back, as he has so many times before, hold still, take long, even breaths, and keep my head high and wait.
Tarik Rocktracker speeds toward us with Huffie lumbering next to him. Side by side, the two are an odd pair. Tarik being four feet tall compared to the ten-foot tall Moran. Fairytales and movies have legends all wrong. There’s no such thing as dwarves, giants, or elves; there are only Draíochtans, Morans, and Bheagans. But from all the worlds aside from Mhara and Gaoth, people are just people.
Tarik may be short, but he has a face like any regular man, although he appears older than any normal human I know. Deep wrinkles surround his eyes, and age spots cover his exposed skin. “How good to see the four of you here. Might we have a word?”
“Would be a shame to send you away after you walked all the way up here,” Arland says, eyes focused and unmoving, voice firm, unafraid. “What would you like to speak with us about?”
I stare at the small man and then glance up at the larger one. Huffie smiles a dimple-filled smile; the boyish look seems ill-fitting for someone like him.
“We have come to offer an apology.” Huffie’s gaze darts off to something beyond the cave.
Arland cocks his head. “And you feel the need to apologize for what?”
Tarik strides toward us like a man on a runway, modeling the latest fashions—something that just does not look right for someone so small—and crosses his fist over his heart. “We planned to leave. All of us. Even the Gaothans—I know you believe them more worthy than the rest of us. Our worlds are safe, and you offered us very little incentive to fight. Coming here was something none of us wished. Yet we came and fought with most of you. Tirelessly—”
Arland sighs. “Your point, Tarik?”
“We are concerned about your wife, Leader Maher. She displayed great power before our small council yesterday, but she is weak. Kate is the most powerful of you all, and she is sick. We held a meeting and made our decision. When Huffie visited you earlier, he was supposed to deliver the details of our departure.” Tarik glances back at the Moran. “But something happened, something unimaginable, something only a god could conjure … .”
Flanna throws her hands up, then smacks them on her thighs. “For the love of the gods, Tarik, spit it out.”
Huffie steps forward and then kneels before us. “We were all spoken to.”
Fighting back a laugh, I place my hand over my mouth. I have a feeling I know where this is going. The gods have spoken to me once or twice before.
“Somehow a man entered all of our thoughts and condemned us for our fear and our greed. He told us dearest Katriona’s story.”
Tarik takes a knee next to Huffie. “He told us of how she was just a girl living a life based on lies and how she was thrust into this world and told she had to save it. Pictures of her dying, healing people, and fighting battles she had only received minimal training for filled our heads and made us understand why she leads you all. This man told us if we abandoned Encardia, our worlds would be plagued for three centuries.”
Huffie cringes and closes his eyes, wrinkling his otherwise perfect, soft skin. “We do not want for plagues—”
“We do not wish to abandon someone who has given up so much. We are once again in your service. Any offerings for our aid will no longer be necessary.”
“Hmm,” Arland says, rubbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Why did you share the information about the Bheagans leaving and your people potentially leaving with them then, Huffie?”
The large man opens his brown eyes, big and wide. “I not know what others heard or believed at time. Everyone wanted leave, but I want to stay, so I talked to my people. I told half-truth first so I could talk with my kind, and the others.”
Tarik returns to his feet. “You must trust us, Arland. Time is not an option. Dughbal’s army is near; four Gaothans returned with the news minutes ago. Do you accept our apology?”
Arland extends his hand, but Tarik doesn’t take it. I haven’t seen him touch anyone.
“So sorry.” Huffie gets up and hangs his head. “All our people wait for sign to begin trek into the forest. War is now. We fight beside you whether you forgive or not.”
“You are forgiven,” Arland says.
Cadman leaves our side then stands behind Huffie, staring at my husband with an intensity he rarely shows. “We must move now, sir. You, Kate, Brit, Perth, and Flanna must get to your positions. I will arrange the others, then meet you at the bald spot, where we discussed.” Cadman turns his attention to me, holding me prisoner with his hard gaze, setting my insides to trembling. “Remember what you saw. Remember what you love the most.
Do you understand me?”
I rub my knuckles into the palm of my left hand, chest constricting, heart racing, and I shake my head. I don’t understand him. Does Cadman know what I have to do to protect Arland from my visions? Why doesn’t Cadman just tell me, then? Why the secrets and the cryptic message? “What do you—?”
“There is no time. Just remember what you saw. Huffie, Tarik, we must mobilize your armies to move to the edge of the forest. Once the daemons move in, we need capable soldiers to light fires around the wheat fields. Do you have anyone in mind responsible enough?” Cadman pushes the men toward the fire, but turns and nods his head toward me then Arland. “I will make sure we reach the bald spot in time. Be safe.”
“Be safe,” Arland repeats, fists balled at his sides.
Cadman jogs away, sword bouncing off his legs with each long stride he takes. Tarik and Huffie follow behind, not moving quite as fast.
I pray Cadman makes it to our rendezvous point in the wheat fields before it’s too late.
I pray he doesn’t die.
“Well, you heard him, Arland … .” Flanna jabs Arland in the shoulder. “Shall we end this thing?”
Arland laughs and takes me by the hand, calming my nervous trembling. “Let’s end it so we may go on with our lives.” He glances at me and smiles. “Flanna, gather Brit and Perth and have them meet us down by the horses. Send the others to the inside edge of the Baccain Forest. Tell them to hide in the cover of the thicket and not to come out until the fires are lit between the daemons and us.”
“Got it.” She bounces off toward the cave with a lot more enthusiasm than I can even dream of having right now. “Meet you down there.”
Holding hands, Arland and I follow the path toward the horses. I run my thumb along the side of his index finger, memorizing the strength in his hands, the warmth of his touch, the excitement of his skin meeting mine. This could be the end of us, Arland and Katriona Maher, the end of Encardia. No matter what the prophecy said, things can change. We’ve already proved that, and Griandor told me I can still fail.
I close my eyes and listen to the rocks crunch under my boots. Taking in deep breaths, I try to ignore my churning stomach to smell Arland, to revel in what little life we’ve been able to live together.
Mom wanted us to marry because she knew being together is what we wanted and because of what our marriage at that exact time would mean for this world, but I’m not sure she could have ever planned for the happiness the man standing next to me has brought me. And if she did, I’ll have a lot to thank her for if I ever see her again.
“You will make it through this, Kate,” Arland says, breaking the silence with his wonderful, deep voice. “If—”
“You aren’t supposed to invade my thoughts like that.” I open my eyes and scowl at him.
He stops just short of Mirain and Bowen and turns to me. “I have not invaded your thoughts.” Arland wraps his arms around me and presses his forehead to mine. “Bad timing I guess.”
This affectionate touch so close to war, so close to the end … it’s not enough. Tears stream down my face. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about how if I ever saw my mom again, I’d have to thank her for Binding us.”
He wipes away my tears with his thumbs. “Definitely bad timing.”
“I love you, Arland. I’m not ready to give you up yet.” I can’t let him go; he can’t die … .
“Death will not change us. If I die, I die yours and will live on in your heart. In time, you will heal and move on, but we will meet again. When the gods call you home, I will be waiting for you.” He places his lips on the tip of my nose, as if he’s sealing the deal. Arland’s already made peace with his death.
He’s accepted it.
I wrap my arms around his waist and clutch him to me wildly, desperate to be as close as possible. “Please, just stay here. Maybe we can change the visions, prevent them from becoming true. You always died beside me. Please—”
Arland’s lips crash onto mine, parting my mouth as wildly as I clutched him to me. Fingers threading through my hair, he pulls me deeper into the kiss, stealing my breath away, making me want to cry out even worse than before. I refuse to allow this to be a goodbye kiss, to be the last time we have an intimate moment, to let him die. He backs away, face lingering mere inches away from mine, heat warming my skin.
“I feel anger inside you. Fight. Keep it up, but we have an audience.”
We turn toward the path at the same time and break our connection when we see Gary and Mr. Tanner standing with their mouths wide open. My stepfather looks between Arland and me, then takes a shaky step forward, arms behind his back.
“To see you this way has not been easy. You have always been strong, somehow stronger than I even thought you knew, but leading an army, being married, magic, war … no matter how well it suits you … I miss the girl who refused to accept her best friend had feelings for her, who stressed over grades and about where she’d work after she graduated college. I hope when all this is over—no, I pray when all this is over—you’ll find time to come home, to give that girl a chance. Maybe you’ll finish college.” Gary turns his big brown eyes toward Arland, then wipes his hand over his face. “You can bring your husband …”
Mr. Tanner purses his lips, reminding me he’s not quite forgiven me for moving on from Brad. Kate and Brad didn’t exist beyond our friendship; I hope one day Mr. Tanner sees that—I hope one day Brad will see that—and he’ll move on.
“Husband,” Gary mutters. “I’m beginning to fear you never truly were that girl, and this world needs you. Just visit?”
I look at Arland then back to the only father I’ve ever known, unsure of what to do.
“Go on,” Arland whispers, “I know you want to hug him.”
I run to Gary and lock my arms around his neck. “I was exactly as you remember me. Nothing more, nothing less. I will visit.”
“Eh-hem.” Mr. Tanner brings his fist in front of his lips.
“I will visit you too, Mr. Tanner.”
“And my son? How will you repair the hurt your marriage to that man”—he points at Arland with a shaky finger—”will cause? He loved you, and you just walked away from him. The two of you—”
“He will heal,” Brit says, making me jump. She trots toward us, carrying her bow and a quiver full of arrows, then stops beside Gary and Mr. Tanner. “Maybe after Kate kills him, his hopeless devotion to her will disappear?”
My heart speeds up. I’ve already failed at killing Dughbal once, but will I be able to do it? Will I be able to drive a sword through the heart of someone who looks like my best friend?
In reality, I’ll be killing him, too; my sword will go through his body.
Arland squeezes my hand. “Brit has feelings for your Brad, sir.”
“I know.” Mr. Tanner grimaces. “It’s a shame we cannot change who we love.”
“You know?” Brit and I ask together.
“It’s as obvious as his love for Kate, Brit. While his eyes were on her, your eyes were on him.” He mutters something. “Children. They never know what’s good for them.”
All the other soldiers file down the path, Tristan at the lead, passing by with blank looks. Everyone must be so afraid, so worried what will become of their life. I wish I could promise them safety.
“Are the two humans with us or you, sir?” Tristan calls.
“With you. Arm them with swords, daggers, knives—whatever they are comfortable with,” Arland says, turning his attention to my stepfather. “Battling with weapons of this kind takes practice. You do not have to go into this battle. Your being here should be enough to appease the gods.”
Gary narrows his eyes. “If the gods wanted all the worlds united, I don’t believe they intended for two middle-aged men from Earth to hide during the process. If we die, we die. And if it’s any consolation, I’d like a sword.”
Through a strange mixture of laughter and tears, I hug Gary once more, then back away. “Don’t l
et their blood get on you, and make sure you watch out for the hounds. They like to jump out when you least expect it. The coscarthas have really long claws—”
My stepfather shakes me and kisses my forehead. “I love you, too, Kate. You’ve made me proud.”
Nodding, I turn away and head for Mirain before I lose control of my emotions. Her coat shines in the dark night, and she stares at me. Knowing her, she understands this will be her last battle. I press my head against her neck. “It’s time, Girl.”
Arland and I mount our horses, then wait for the others. Gary and Mr. Tanner follow Tristan through the trees, and within seconds, they are out of sight, a thick veil of Darkness blanketing them.
Help us, Griandor. Please.
If the gods sent any peace, I certainly don’t feel it; my chest and breathing are heavy.
Brit and Flanna join us; Perth gives Rhoswen a brief hug, then does the same. She wipes her eyes and runs off into the woods, following Tristan and the others.
Arland rides away from the group first and turns to face us. “May this be the end of this dreaded war. Our people will be free to prosper in what was once a beautiful world. Because of us. We fight with honor and courage, and we fight for Light. We will meet Cadman, Huffie, Tarik, Humu, and Quilos in the wheat field, and there we will wait for Dughbal’s army.”
Brit and Flanna flank my sides, casting glances at each other, but I keep my gaze forward on Arland.
“Let’s ride,” he says, then Bowen gallops into the forest.
My heart squeezes.
Chapter Eighteen
We’re standing in the middle of a meadow, surrounded by shriveled, limp wheat grasses. Dotted along the hillside are hundreds of burning torches, illuminating the pale skin of Arland, Perth, Brit, Cadman, and Flanna next to me. Huffie, Tarik, and Humu linger behind us. Quilos hides in the air, waiting, stalking her prey. Shadows shift over the ground and make the brown plants appear as though they’re dancing to a hypnotic techno beat. With our backs facing the east, we wait for Dughbal and his daemons to approach through the Baccain Forest, right where we want. I tighten my sweaty grip around the hilt of my sword, preparing for battle, focusing on anything other than how dangerous this plan is.
Wilde's Meadow Page 18
