“Grief has washed away her good judgment, Cadman,” Perth says, swiping dust from his leather pants. He stands, crosses his arms over his chest, then turns to face me. “My father will kill you.”
“Are you going to let him?” I laugh, and I hear a tinge of insanity in it. I can’t be wrong about any of this. I just can’t. “I know you won’t. You are ten times the man your father will ever be. You wanted to speak against him at Willow Falls, but the time was not right. Well it is now, Perth. Show your people what it means to be a good person. If you don’t, Encardia will never have Light.”
Rhoswen uncovers her head and scrambles to her feet. “What do you mean? You killed Dughbal; Light will return.”
“No, Rhoswen. Arland’s prophecy said if I’m not happy, Encardia would be without Light.”
“What else do you know of his prophecy?” Cadman asks, pointing at the paper in my hands. “And what does your sister’s letter have to do with your sudden sureness in Arland’s fate?”
Hands shaking, I unfold Brit’s prophecy. Cadman is going to help me. We’re going to work together and find Arland—
Tap, tap, tap.
Cadman places his hand over mine. “Hide this.” He turns and walks to the door. “Who is it?”
“Someone who is being treated quite unfairly,” Vanora says, disgust filling her tone.
“What do you need?” Cadman asks, ear pressed to the door.
“I thought you might like to know the Leaders have arrived.”
I fold the paper, insert it into the bag, then shove it in my pocket. If the Leaders are here already, there isn’t time to go over this. I need to speak with High Leader Maher anyway. I have to hear Arland’s prophecy.
Cadman turns the knob and pulls open the door. “High Leader Maher, I did not expect to see you.”
Looking up, I meet eyes with my father-in-law. He holds my gaze and steps into the room, shoulders squared, face unreadable. He wears a calm expression, reminding me so much of Arland. I almost want to run and give him a hug.
“I require alone time with my daughter, Cadman,” Leader Maher says, patting Cadman’s shoulder. “You are now in charge of commanding our soldiers. Return to the barracks, sweep it for dangers, then prepare the men for departure in the morning.”
In the morning? Where are they going? And who will help me look for Arland? Will I even see Cadman again? Of course not. He’ll be in charge of the army; there won’t be time for me. I take a deep breath through my nose, ignoring a sudden urge to sneeze, and search for the right words—for any words—to keep Cadman by my side. “Sir?”
Leader Maher smiles, his green eyes radiating with kindness. “Do not fear, Katriona. Cadman’s duty will be to you once the soldiers are housed. I know you trust him the most, as do I.”
Cadman glances back at me and nods. “I am sure Perth’s father would like to see him, and Vanora could probably use Rhoswen’s assistance, sir.”
Leader Maher sighs. “Very well.”
“Come on, Rhoswen,” Perth says, bumping into me and making me stumble forward as he passes. “I can tell when we are not wanted.”
With her hands behind her back, she rushes after him, then closes the door.
I soak in Arland’s father’s features, his high cheekbones, the little wrinkles around his eyes, the fullness in his bottom lip, and fight against the urge to cry. But what should I say? Should I hug him like instincts tell me to or give into the pain or—
He drops his display of strength and steps toward me. “So, is it true?”
“Arland isn’t dead.” Speaking the words aloud only makes me more confident they’re true. “He’s missing … hidden maybe.”
Leader Maher cocks his head to the side and blinks.
“The others didn’t believe me either, but I know in my heart he’s alive. Arland told me a million times he wasn’t going to die. He said for Encardia to be safe and have Light, I must be in his arms, happy. My sister’s prophecy was full of confusing information, but I’m sure it has something to do with him … .” Her sacrifice … maybe it was to keep me and Arland together?
“You are aware how some prophecies never legitimately make sense? They can confuse and guide us along the wrong path.” He brushes my cheek with the back of his cold hand, sending shivers down my neck and arms. “Do you feel the need to search for him?”
“I have to.” Tears pool in my eyes, and I squint. I swear I’m looking at Arland. “Will you, please, share his prophecy with me?”
“I will share the information you desire if you promise not to lose yourself to this. Arland loved you; he would not wish to see you chasing his ghost,” Leader Maher says, sounding just like Perth.
“Ahh, Kimball.” Dufaigh’s unwelcome, menacing voice sends a jolt through me.
I look to my left and into the white eyes of the man who reminds me too much of Dughbal. The heavy-set Leader of the Ground Dwellers walks into the room, joins us by the bed, then claps his hand on Kimball’s back.
“My son informed me about your boy. Shame he will not see Encardia after it has been restructured by his wife.” Dufaigh smiles, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. “You do look terrible, dear. Maybe we should hold council here in your fine home, Kimball. Mrs. Maher does not appear fit for leaving.”
“I’m fit for whatever I wish, Leader Dufaigh.”
Leader Maher places a hand on my shoulder. “You mourn the loss of Arland; meetings should occur here.” He looks at Dufaigh. “Please, make the arrangements.”
Nodding, the oversized jerk turns and stalks from the room.
Leader Maher squeezes my shoulder. “Promise not to scream?”
Shooting pains radiate into my back. I grab his hand and attempt to pry his fingers from me, but his grip is like iron. “Aside from you hurting me, why would I scream?”
He takes my other shoulder and shakes me. “Promise me.”
I sigh. “Okay, I promise.”
“From the memories of this man, I have given Cadman the key words to take Perth and Rhoswen and any other remaining soldiers into the field where you last fought.” Leader Maher digs his fingers deeper into my skin, as if his words hurt him.
“From the memories of what man? I don’t understand. You sent Cadman to the barracks.” Cringing, I step back. He’s hurting me and acting strange; I want to be as far away as possible.
“Do as I say, without screaming, and I will give you the prophecy.”
I ball my fists at my sides. “I already promised not to scream.”
He glances at the door, then back to me. “This man, Leader Dufaigh, has turned against his own kind. There is no spell over him. When Dughbal was killed, we sensed this man’s darkness. It sought us out. Dark magic informed us of the Leader’s route from Willow Falls to this place. We ambushed them and—”
Oh my God. “You’re a shifter.”
I back away from him, trying to map out the safest route to the door. “What did you do?”
Fire rages in me. Sparking at my fingertips, it rushes up my arms, but I resist the urge to allow the power to flow freely. “What does your kind hope to gain from killing all of us? There’s no god to promise you new life, and that was a lie anyway.”
”I am not going to harm you. I, alone, no longer wish to harm anyone. My kind was wrong to involve ourselves in a war between the gods. We are a foolish breed and belong in our hell. Your Leader Maher is a good person, better than anyone I have ever controlled. He knew this would occur. Plans were in place for it, but you do not have much time.”
The daemon moves closer, confusing me to the very core. He speaks like an intelligent creature, almost like he is Leader Maher, but how can I trust him after he and his kind slaughtered so many of us? Shifters killed Lann and Enid—one nearly killed me. Every advance this being makes, I back away two steps, until I meet the wall.
He bends and slides his hand inside his boot. “I took this from its hiding place as soon as we arrived. Most of your husband’s prophecy is
here, as well as where you can find the real Leaders.” The daemon hands me a piece of yellow paper. “If you do not run, Dufaigh will have full control of this world, and all its inhabitants will turn against you.”
Shaking, I take the prophecy and clutch it in my hand. “You said most of his prophecy is in here. Where is the rest?”
“I do not know, but you must leave.”
“What will people think? How can I leave them while … while your kind is here?”
“You must. Dufaigh will call you a deserter, a liar, weak—whatever he can come up with to strip you of the heroics you displayed for this world—and all the Leaders will agree. The only way to prove yourself is to separate the true Leaders from those like me.”
I swallow hard, remembering how much blood I lost when the shifter left my body. “How will I heal their wounds?”
“We have a spot here”—he points to the center of his chest—”When you find your people, touch our tentacles in this spot, and we will separate without causing harm. Once your loved ones are released, drive your swords through us.”
“You want me to … hurt your family?”
“My kind does not view family the way this world does. Whether you kill them or allow them to go free makes no difference. We will all return to Daigre and suffer in that miserable world through eternity. We deserve it.”
Footsteps echo down the hall, followed by humming. Vanora. A door opens, then clicks closed. She must be going into one of the rooms to rest or take care of other wounded soldiers.
The shifter looks over his shoulder. “You are running out of time.” He holds out his elbow. “Take my arm. I will lead you out and behind the house. Your horse is tied up back there.”
Detaching from this wall is dangerous. If he’s lying, he can take me over and Arland won’t be here to protect me. If the shifter isn’t lying, Dufaigh might find a way to kill me or cast me aside. Both have dangers, but only one prevents me from finding Arland … .
I hook my arm through the being’s and hang my head, mourning the way Dufaigh probably expects me to, then keep my gaze on the paper in my hands.
“Thank you,” the daemon says.
I look up into the emerald eyes resembling High Leader Maher’s, resembling Arland. “For what?”
“Trusting me.”
I don’t dare tell this shifter there’s only a thin veil of trust between us. He might be helping by warning me about Dufaigh, but the sudden switch in his character is suspicious. “You’re welcome.”
We walk through the hall and find Dufaigh asleep in the rocking chair by the roaring fire. He’s snoring. The daemon opens the door, then we pass through without being noticed.
I’m leaving again. Going out into the world to fight against Darkness. Hopefully this is the last time, and hopefully this time I’ll come home with Arland.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The daemon helps me onto Mirain’s back. She stomps and snorts, clouds of white escaping her nostrils. Wrapping her leather reins around my palm, I grab the saddle horn and glance at my new ally, making sure to keep the prophecy in my hand. I’m not letting this go until I find Arland.
“What will you tell Dufaigh?” As long as I get away, I don’t really care what the daemon tells Dufaigh.
“Mourning drove you away in search of answers.” The shifter offers me his hand, such a human action, such a Leader Maher action. “He will be thrilled.”
I close my eyes so I can see his true form, to prove the words match reality. His white core radiates, pulsing brighter and brighter, and his black tentacles stretch out and loop around his solid center. He’s like a gaseous planet with multiple rings. Taking his hand, I squeeze. “Thank you.”
“No thanks required. The centuries we have spent suffering will never be repayment enough for what we have done to this world.” He pats Mirain’s hindquarters and smiles. “Now go, before you lose your opportunity. I sense Dufaigh’s rousing.”
Nudging my heel into Mirain’s left side, I turn her around then nod once more at the daemon.
He waves.
“Let’s go, girl.”
I ride Mirain hard through the outskirts of town, pushing her faster and faster until the earthen homes on either side of me look like nothing more than blurs of dirt and dead grass. Her brilliant white coat glows with warm, comforting magic. Lowering my torso, I push harder in her stirrups. The cold wind battering my face means nothing; I’m going to find Cadman and the others, and then we’re going to find Arland.
Hints of burning death fill the air, turning my stomach upside down, but I push through. Nothing can stop me now. Not daemons. Not Dufaigh. I will not allow anything to stand in the way of my happiness.
The further we travel, the stronger the sulfuric smell becomes. Orange flames flicker between the dense, black trees, indicating my arrival to the field where I fought Dughbal. Fire licks the tall pines along the edge of my path, and fog settles thick and low to the ground, swirling around me and my horse as we cross into the clearing. She hesitates when we near the line of flames, but I nudge her to the left, riding her around the danger.
Searching for Cadman, Perth, and Rhoswen, I look into the meadow of wheat grasses and spot them a few hundred yards away. Each mounted on a horse stomping beneath them, they lift their head. I catch a glimmer of a smile on all of them. Somehow, out here, all of our differences disappear and we are a team, a family.
We’ve been through hell. We’ve battled and lost. We’ve battled and won. Each of us views the outcomes differently. Each of us suffers in our own way. But no matter what, we endure it all together.
Without instruction, Mirain gallops toward them—she, too, recognizes the bond. Darting to our left to avoid the fire, she jumps over smoldering daemon carcasses and lands with the beauty and grace of a hurdle horse.
“You made it,” Cadman says, the corners of his mouth lifting into a beaming smile, deepening his wrinkles.
Mirain stops, standing in front of the others as a warrior would before leading her army to battle.
“Did you have any doubt?” I ask, breathing heavily. “Where is everyone else?”
“There was insufficient time to evacuate; I warned the few I found.”
“You knew High Leader Maher was a shifter. I’m going to guess you knew Arland isn’t dead, too?”
He nods.
“You want him back as much as I do?”
Again, he nods.
“So why didn’t you agree with me, and why don’t you tell me what I have to do?”
“I do not know what you must do, only that you have to figure this out on your own.” Cadman reaches inside his pocket, then pulls out Brit’s sandwich bag.
I pat my pants. They’re empty. “Where did you get—?”
“I took it,” Perth says. “When High Leader Maher walked into the room, I knew you were about to tell him about the prophecy, and something about that did not sit well with me. So when we left, I snatched it from your pocket.”
“But how?”
He smiles. “I can tell when we are not wanted.”
Realization rifles through me. “Oh. When you bumped me?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?” I ask.
Perth shakes his head, then glances at Cadman. “We were clueless until we met Cadman in the hall. He said we were not to speak a word other than to tell my father about Arland and then to come with him.”
“So here we are.” Rhoswen sighs. “We have read over your sister’s letter multiple times. We have some things we believe we understand, but in the end, it looks like you are the one who has to remember something. Not us.”
Remember. I’m beginning to hate that word. Over and over, Griandor has drilled it into me. My sister’s letter resonated on my need for memory. Even Cadman told me to remember what I love the most before we fought in this very spot. “Do you know what I’m supposed to remember?”
“Did the shifter deliver Arland’s prophecy?” Cadman asks, deflecting
my question.
I don’t think he’s giving in any time soon, so I unwrap the brown leather strap from my palm and release the paper beneath. “He did.”
Rhoswen leans forward. “What does it say?”
Perth swats her shoulder.
“I haven’t read it yet.” I look down, unwilling to open the prophecy with so many people around.
Cadman nudges his horse, moving closer to me, then stops him beside Mirain. “I am under the impression Arland’s prophecy combined with your sister’s will give you the insight you need to understand.” He pats my hand, then gives me the bag. “We will allow you to read them alone while we set up camp.”
“Thank you.”
The three of them turn and ride up a small hill, then stop under the tree where I killed Dughbal.
I open the paper with trembling hands, one fold at a time. Curly script, written with runny ink, lines the parchment.
Forever a Keeper of Light is he, for their pure love will be the key. Hold her in his arms he must, or this world turns to dust. Power and protection are her gifts, the end to Darkness’ reign will be swift. Twisted are this pair’s fates, but a halfling’s sacrifice will ensure they never separate. Darkness will fall, but coveted light will meet her wall. If Encardia is to be guarded from evil, she must seek out love that has no equal. When she remembers what she’s learned, his location will be discerned. Light’s joy is the only way, for Encardia to see the light of—
Another rambling and incomplete, broken-up poem just like Brit’s. And another thing telling me to remember. What have I learned? I already know Arland is my Keeper, my Coimeádaí. Mom told me he and I together are the key; although I had no idea how key our connection truly meant at the time. Magic is my gift. Darkness is dead. And now, there’s another mention of the sacrifice. I don’t know what a halfling is. But the only sacrifice I can think of is my sister’s.
My heart hurts. “Brit, if you can hear me, thank you,” I say, turning my face toward the sky. But Arland’s not here. So maybe her giving up her life didn’t work? Or is that why he’s just hidden? I’ll have to keep thinking over that one.
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