Wilde's Meadow

by Wade, Krystal

  “I know. I worry over what he will try to do to you, to me, and Rhoswen, or even to The Meadows, Katriona. The last time we saw him, he was pretending to be reformed; I know him too well to believe otherwise.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, Perth places his hand on mine. “I will not allow him to hurt you, even if I have to put an end to him.”

  I cock my head to the side, studying Perth’s reaction. His suggestion for us to stay together was a good one; his thoughts are also dark. He’s so in love, he’s blind. He thinks killing his father will be easy, will be in my honor, but really Perth would end Leader Dufaigh so true love could live on.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that,” I say.

  Perth draws his legs up in front of him, wrapping his arms around his shins, then leans against a post. “The silence is deafening, Katriona. I keep thinking I hear horses, or people talking, or doors opening and closing, but no one comes.”

  Breathing deeply, my stomach rises to my throat. I cup my hand over my mouth, scanning the room for a bin or something to throw up in. Next to the closet, beside the exit, a wooden bucket sits oddly out of place, like it’s been waiting twenty years for me to use it. I jump out of bed and rush to my makeshift porcelain god, arriving just as a wave of vomiting strikes.

  Falling to my knees, I pull back my hair and empty what little I have in my stomach. Perspiration breaks out on my neck while chills ripple through me.

  “How long will this last?” Perth asks.

  I wipe my mouth with my tunic sleeve and drag myself to the bed. “I have no idea.”

  Climbing onto the surely mite infested mattress, my foot slides on something. I look down and see the sandwich bag Brit gave me. I must have dropped it.

  Perth bends and picks it up. “Are you going to tell me what these are?”

  “One is from Brit, and the other is from my mom.”

  “Have you opened them?” he asks, raising a blond eyebrow.

  Shaking my head, I snatch the plastic from him and clutch it to my chest. “Not this one. It is all I have left of Brit. I want to savor it.”

  “Yet you have no clue as to what it is?”

  “No.”

  “You would do a better job savoring it if you opened it.”

  “Please … .”

  Perth holds out his hand, palm up. “Give it to me. I will help you through this. If there is one thing you have learned, is it not that people always know more than you? Whatever this is, Brit wanted you to have it.”

  I pull the gift from Brit away from my chest, loosening my death grip on it. A folded piece of yellowing paper is inside the sandwich bag. I pass it to him, hand shaking like someone having a seizure.

  He closes his fingers around mine, calming but not stopping the nervous fit. “This will help to heal.” Pulling apart the zippered bag, he slides the paper out, then unfolds it. “It is a note.”

  “Read it,” I say, heart racing, balling the quilt in my hands.

  Perth clears his throat. “Kate, If you’re reading this, it means I’m either really clumsy and dropped it somewhere, or I’m dead. I hope it’s not the gloomy ending for me, but I’m scared it might be. Anyway, I love you. As far as sisters go, you’re probably the best in any world. You saved my life countless times, before you even knew what you were getting yourself into, and I’ll never forget that. Without you, there would be no life for me, and I don’t want you to be sad if there’s no me in your life. I believe in the afterlife now, and I believe I’ll be looking down upon you with the gods by my side.” He pauses, flipping over the piece of paper. “You have transformed into an amazing woman since you’ve been here. Watching you fight for a cause you have little reason to believe in, watching you smile at Arland and blush when he smiles back, watching how defiant you are against that asshole, Dufaigh, watching you, is incredible.”

  I hide my face in my hands, tears spilling from my eyes.

  “I’m proud to be Brites Wilde, sister to Katriona Maher. But I didn’t write this letter just to tell you how much you mean to me. I know you were interested in my prophecy. When that crazy Seer delivered the message, I didn’t have a clue what to make of it. Mom said sometimes the prophecies are clear like yours and sometimes they only hint at what will happen. Since I didn’t understand it, I wrote it down … and since you were mentioned, I’m pretty sure I’m meant to give this to you—”

  “S-she wrote it down?” I ask, lifting my gaze to meet Perth’s.

  “Would you like to read it yourself, or would you prefer I continue?” His voice is soft, soothing, as if talking to me above a whisper would break my fragile state.

  “Go on.”

  “Your life you live in shadows cast, by siblings who are meant to last. Gods and mortals mixed to create, a family bound to separate. Communication will be your clue, to spark knowledge of what you must do. A time will come for you to choose; sacrifice or they will lose. New life lasts forever, old life spared if you are clever. Love breaks the pattern then, for everyone including Katriona will win.” Perth licks his finger, then separates the paper from another piece. “This lady was seriously odd, Kate. She grabbed my forearms and dug her nails into my skin, eyes so wide I’d have sworn someone taped them open. Anyway, she said, Upon your demise, she will see this with her eyes, but in the end, her heart must mend. Katriona needs her memory, if she plans to find the key. Then that was it. I’m running out of time, and paper—I’m not sure I want to live here if we make it out of this alive. Do you know how great a shower would feel right now?”

  I laugh, and my eyes fill with tears. She must have been so serious when writing this letter. I can picture her using a pencil and thinking how old fashioned it was to actually write something. Brit was such a modern girl. Even helping on the farm was far beneath her, and she’d already mentioned she wanted to go home.

  “What is a shower?”

  “I’ll show you when we take Mr. Tanner and Gary back home.” My lungs deflate. What if they didn’t make it? What if they’re more victims of this tragic war? And it was Arland who was supposed to take them back with me, not Perth. What if he doesn’t even want to go?

  “You okay?” Perth leans forward.

  I swallow hard. “Yes.”

  No. Not at all. Please, let them be alive.

  He smiles nervously and returns his gaze to the letter. “When you see Brad, tell him about me, tell him how I felt. I love you, Kate. Remember to hug Mom.”

  Perth places the pieces of paper back together, then hands them to me. “Do you have any idea what the prophecy means?”

  I turn the last words of my sister over and over in my hands, memorizing her chicken scratch, hoping to get something more from the paper, something I’ll never have again, a touch, a sarcastic laugh, a glimpse of her smiling face. “We’ll have to read it a few more times be—”

  “Do you hear that?” Perth sits up and grabs his weapon.

  “Hear what?”

  “Horses.” He smiles and darts out of the room, leaving the plastic bag beside me.

  I carefully fold the prophecy, secure it inside my pants pocket, grab my sword, then follow Perth out to greet whoever has arrived first.

  He points his sword toward the rocking chair I’d promised to sit in hours ago. “Go sit by the fire.”

  “I’d hardly call that a fire,” I say, staring at the heavy clouds of gray smoke rising from the squealing, water-soaked logs. “And since when do you give me orders?”

  I cross the room then join him by the door, weapon clutched in my sweaty grip.

  “Katriona, you carry life inside you, and you lost many you love today. If what approaches is not friendly, you do not have the energy it will take—”

  “If what approaches involves a daemon, I have all the energy I need to kill it.” I raise my claymore with two hands, ignoring my burning muscles, welcoming the anger in my core, and put my back to the wall. I will not stop living now. “Open the door, Perth.”

  Running his fingers through h
is blonde hair, he sighs. “Stay behind me at least?”

  I nod.

  Perth turns the knob and slowly pushes open the door.

  “Were you trying to alert any surviving daemons of your whereabouts with that fire, sir?”

  “Cadman!” I abandon my weapon and shove on Perth’s back, trying to get to the familiar face of Arland’s number one, of someone so close to family I’m not sure there’s a difference anymore.

  The graying soldier stands on the stone porch, crimson covering him from head to toe, clothes ripped, armor full of holes, and his narrow-eyed gaze on Perth.

  I close my eyes, searching for daemon tricks, for pulsing bands indicating an imposter, but there’s nothing to be seen.

  “You’re not a shifter,” I say, relief rushing through my veins.

  “Nor are you.”

  Despite Cadman’s agitated appearance, I run and wrap my arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” I glance over his shoulder and see too few others. “Where is everyone?”

  Young Tristan hobbles from behind a brown mare, blood seeping from an open wound on his shin, face pale and sweaty. “This is everyone, aside from Saidear who went … .” He coughs, deep and raspy, body jerking forward, leaving him hunched over.

  Everyone? I count the people standing around Arland’s boyhood home. Twenty-five mixed Draíochtans, Bheagans, Morans, Mharans, but where are Mr. Tanner and Gary? I suck in a sharp breath. “Did my stepfather or Mr. Tanner … survive?”

  Cadman steps back, eyeing my stomach for a moment. “Saidear went to inform the Leaders here of our arrival.” He turns to face the others, arms outstretched at his sides. “Anyone who is injured, please come inside so we may tend to your wounds.”

  Did I manage to kill my stepfather and Brad’s father, too? Is whatever happened so horrific Cadman is afraid to tell me? Does he know I’m pregnant? I’m not sure I can stay out here. Perth was right; I don’t have the energy it takes to fight. I’m not whole. I may never be whole again. “Cadman … ?”

  He peeks at me over his shoulder, eyes watering, then returns his attention to the others. “Rhoswen—”

  Stepping onto the porch, Perth smiles, eyes wide and scanning the very small crowd.

  Hooves clop against the stone road, bouncing echoes off the wooden walls of the shops and houses. Rhoswen appears leading two horses out of the darkness. One horse carries a body draped across its back. The other has a man slumped over. Quivers start in my chin then work their way through my chest, through my arms and down my legs, bringing me dangerously close to falling to my knees. Both men are dressed in Earthly clothes, but from this distance, I can’t tell who’s who.

  “Cadman?” I whimper, holding back the question. I don’t want to know which of those two men is my stepfather or my best friend’s father. Any answer will only rip my heart to shreds, destroy what little bit of sanity I have left.

  Cadman hangs his head and sighs. “I am sorry, ma’am. Mr. Tanner was severely injured by a hound.”

  “No.” My heart races. I look over at the horses again, squinting to try to make out the two figures atop them. Running down the stairs of the stone porch, I sprint toward Rhoswen. Trails of blood stain the ground behind the horse on the left; my stomach flips at the sight. “Please don’t let it be Gary. Please, God, let Cadman be wrong about Mr. Tanner.”

  She stops, tears streaking her dirty cheeks. “You should not look, Kate.”

  I walk to the side of the animal and fight back a scream. Gary has puncture wounds covering his torso and arms. His skin is pasty-white. His brown eyes are wide open and frozen in a frightened state.

  Turning my face to the sky, I drop to my knees, rage and agony fighting for control of my muscles. “Why? Was everything else not enough? Take me! I don’t want to live anymore. You’ve stolen my soul, you piece of shit. I don’t care about Light and Darkness, I care about the people I love, and you’ve killed them all!”

  Perth and Cadman slide their arms under mine, but I have no energy to help them, no energy to fight them either. My body falls slack in their grip while the world around me fades.

  Cadman takes up my legs, then transfers me to Perth’s arms. “Take her inside. I will make sure all the others get settled.” Cadman places a light kiss on my forehead. “You will be okay, Katriona. Time will heal your heart. We will prepare to have a funeral for all the fallen as soon as the Leaders arrive,” he whispers.

  I close my eyes, trying to push the images of Gary’s death, of Arland’s, of Brit’s, of so many deaths out of my mind. “Time won’t heal this, Cadman. It’s impossible.”

  “Rhoswen, Perth will need some assistance with Kate. She needs food, a bath, clothes, and sleep. Help her before the Leaders arrive. They will require Kate for restructuring meetings,” he says, lowering his voice.

  Restructuring? They honestly want me to restructure? Right now? Who in their right mind could ask me to do anything besides cry? I can’t imagine facing Murchadha, Dufaigh, or Maher, but I would love to see my mom. To mourn with her.

  “And keep her secret just that. Do you understand? Both of you must know if anyone finds out, our lives will be in more peril than they ever have been.”

  “We understand,” Rhoswen and Perth whisper together.

  Cadman knows … they all know, but why would my pregnancy bring so much danger? “Why—?”

  “We will discuss everything once the wounded are cared for.” He pats my arm, then turns and walks away.

  I lean my cheek against Perth’s chest. “I guess you’re not going to tell me what he means, are you?”

  “You heard Cadman, Kate,” Rhoswen says, “We will discuss this later.”

  The short, blonde Ground Dweller heads toward the house without another word.

  “I am sorry.” Perth shakes his head and follows the others.

  “Me too.” I’m positive we’re sorry about much different things, but all of them are negatives regarding my life, and for that, sorry isn’t good enough.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “When the war is over, I will see to it that his life is returned to him, that he is sent home, and that his heart will be mended from the loss of you in it,” Griandor says, smiling down upon me.

  The only light I see comes from the sun god, golden and warm, wrapping around us in swirling torrents. Beyond us is black. We’re nowhere, yet right where we are all at once.

  “The war is over. Where’s Brad? Why haven’t you made good on this promise?”

  His form fades, leaving transparent remnants of the man floating in front of me.

  “Remember … .” Griandor disappears, forcing me to be alone in this empty space.

  “Kate?”

  Arland’s deep, seductive voice causes me to pivot around, but no one is here.

  My heart pounds against my ribs. “Arland?”

  “I am here,” he says closer to me this time.

  Spinning in circles, I try to spot him, try to imagine his face, his touch, his warmth. Chills prick my skin. I shudder. “Where?”

  “I will always be here.” His voice trails off, sounding as though he’s on a cell phone with a terrible connection.

  “Please don’t leave me again. Please, stay here with me. I don’t want to wake up. I know this is a dream, but I just want to feel you, to see you. Arland?”

  “I love—”

  “How long has she known?” Rhoswen whispers, waking me from my dream and ruining Arland’s last ‘I love you.’

  “She discovered on the battlefield; Dughbal told her,” Perth says in the same low tone.

  “Her condition became obvious when we were in the caves. I am surprised she did not recognize it sooner.”

  “It was not obvious to me.”

  “You are a man, Perth. How would you know?”

  I’ve heard enough. My condition is none of their business, no matter how dangerous Cadman says it is. I’ve never been pregnant before, and tracking my period would have been worthless. I’ve had o
nly one since I’ve been here, and to me that was just a couple days ago. Come to think of it, that is odd. Maybe two months really did pass while we were on Earth, but none of it makes sense … .

  Sitting up, I turn and glare at Perth and Rhoswen sitting on the window bench. “And how was I supposed to know? Between mobilizing an army, watching innocent people die, and losing loved ones, there wasn’t much time for me to focus on that.”

  Rhoswen blanches, face turning as white as … an image of Gary’s pasty skin floats through my mind.

  I blink hard, fighting back a wave of nausea. I shouldn’t have brought him here. I should have left Muriel in the safety of Mr. Tanner and my stepdad.

  “I meant no disrespect,” Rhoswen says, bowing her head.

  “No, of course not, but you obviously knew something I didn’t and said nothing. Why?” Stepping from the bed, I look down at my white nightgown and remember the cold bath and how Rhoswen cooked Flanna’s surprise for me. The slop was good but lacked a key ingredient: my friend. As close as Rhoswen and I have become, there’s still something missing in our relationship. She’s timid around me, afraid to speak her mind, afraid to meet my eyes like she used to. I wonder if it’s because she likes Perth and that bond between them could get them in trouble, or if she’s afraid I like him, too.

  The thought makes me snort.

  “Something funny?” Perth crosses his arms over his chest, but he doesn’t look angry; he looks like he’s afraid I’m about to crack, his eyes not meeting mine.

  “For once, yes.”

  “Care to share?” he asks.

  “You tell me why you both knew I was pregnant and why that’s such a bad thing, and I’ll tell you what made me laugh.”

  They glance at each other, eyebrows raised in a way they shouldn’t be if the Ground Dwellers want me to believe there’s nothing suspicious going on.

  I sit next to Rhoswen on the thick piece of smooth wood. “Well?”

  The door opens, creaking on its hinges, and Cadman pokes his head through. “Mr. Tanner’s condition has stabilized. Would you like to see him?”