Wilde's Meadow

by Wade, Krystal

  Mirain snorts and shakes her head, gear jingling like we’re riding fast again.

  “It’s okay, girl.” I look up from the note and rub between her white ears, then return to reading.

  If Encardia is to be guarded from evil, she must seek out love that has no equal.

  Dufaigh must be the remaining evil and the reason why light has not returned, and it’s clear I have to find Arland. That line guarantees he’s alive, but his prophecy doesn’t tell me much I don’t already know. I’ll have to ask Cadman about the halfling, but there has to be more. What am I missing?

  I open the bag containing Brit’s paper, then unfold my sister’s last words.

  Your life you live in shadows cast, by siblings who are meant to last. Gods and mortals mixed to create—

  Mixed? Gods and mortals created my family. Morgandy Dohmnhaill is a goddess and also one of my great grandmothers. I’m part goddess, part human. Brit was, too. She has to be the halfling. Why did she give up her life? Was it for Arland or … ?

  New life lasts forever, old life spared if you are clever.

  She gave up her life for Arland and my child. I rub my belly and glance down, picturing what I’ll look like in a few months. Will I be huge, swollen, and cranky? Will I be a glowing pregnant woman with a wonderful life? What will carrying life inside me feel like?

  Shaking the thoughts, I focus on the words in my hands. New life lasts forever. My child sounds as if she’ll be immortal, but how can that be? How can a halfling’s sacrifice create immortality and save another?

  I laugh. Maybe I should figure out where Arland is and find a way to tell him to get far away from me for a while so I can have a conversation with Griandor. For now, I’m stuck reading this confusing poetry.

  Love breaks the pattern then, for everyone including Katriona will win.

  So was it Brit’s love that broke the pattern? And what pattern? We certainly didn’t all win. Flanna, Brit, and my stepdad died, and I’m sure we lost many of our allies. Arland disappeared … .

  This is so frustrating.

  Mirain stomps, causing me to look up. How long have I been in the middle of this meadow? The others are sitting around a fire near the tree. All of them watch me, rubbing their arms, bouncing their legs, fidgeting in a way that makes me think they’ve grown impatient. The flames behind us have died down, leaving only smoking remains of grass and bodies.

  I shudder. I don’t even want to think about who the bodies belong to; that’s too grim a thought. Kicking my heels into Mirain, I start forward to join the others. Smiles light their faces, but I’m sure those happy appearances will fade once I tell them I still don’t know where Arland is or how to find him.

  Cadman approaches as Mirain enters the cover of the branches, then offers me his hand, blue eyes radiating with knowledge. “You still do not remember?”

  “No, but I know Brit sacrificed her life for Arland’s and the baby’s. I’m not sure how that works, how her part mortal part immortal bloodstream could save two lives, but I know that has to be the case.” I take his hand and slide from my horse. “Do you have any knowledge of my family’s heritage?”

  He frowns. “I am sorry, ma’am. There are a lot of things I know, but of that history I am unaware.”

  Rhoswen giggles.

  Looking over Cadman’s shoulder, I see Perth turn her face toward his and lean in close to her ear. He loves that girl. There was a time I worried he liked me too much for his own good, but now, to see him so happy, I know he never truly felt that for me. Our conversations consisted of threats and lessons about—

  “Perth!” I shout, passing Mirain’s reins off to Cadman.

  Rhoswen backs away from him, clasps her hands in her lap, and hangs her head, covering her face behind a veil of blond hair. Poor thing. I have to fulfill my promise and lift all marriage rules from Encardia.

  Perth narrows his light green eyes. “Did you have to scream?”

  Propping my hands on my hips, I turn toward the nervous Ground Dweller. “You don’t have to hide your feelings for him, you know? I’m not going to tell anyone, and I plan to change that rule anyway.”

  Perth scoots closer to her and tucks stray locks of hair behind her ear.

  Rhoswen’s face flushes scarlet. “We spent our lives learning what Encardia used to be like, the rules, the Leaders, Bindings, bloodlines … . He is off limits by those standards—”

  “Not anymore.” I smile and turn back to Perth. “You are familiar with Morgandy Dohmnaill’s story.”

  He nods. “You know this.”

  “It wasn’t a question, Perth.” I take a seat next to them on the trunk of a fallen pine. “I’d like to share both prophecies with you to see what her part plays in this war.”

  “I doubt she plays any role.” He picks up a twig, then draws squiggly lines in the dirt. “She was a fabled goddess, remember?”

  “I remember you told me that, but she’s not a fable, Perth.”

  Perth turns his head, holding his stick in the middle of an ‘S’ shape.

  “Morgandy Dohmnhaill is my great-grandmother a few times over.”

  He drops his old-fashioned pencil and gasps. “It cannot be.” Perth shakes his head and laughs. “It can. Of course it can.” He gets to his feet, then marches toward Cadman. “They were fables, Cadman.”

  Cadman tilts his head to the side.

  “What is it?” I ask, standing so fast the world around me spins. “Why are you so … so … what are you?”

  Perth balls his fists, but smiles. He breathes heavily, but his shoulders are relaxed. Maybe he’s as confused as his appearance?

  “Perth?” Rhoswen says, her tone cautious.

  “I wonder if my aunt was aware all her stories were true.” He rubs his chin. “No, she would have told me.”

  “Perth,” I say, voice firm, but heart beating out of control. “What is her story?”

  “A curse. When she was impregnated by a mortal, her father was furious. He doomed the goddess of time—”

  “Did you say goddess of time?”

  He nods.

  That certainly explains what happened when I went home with Arland and Muriel. “Sorry. Go on.”

  “He doomed the goddess of time and all her daughters after her. These women were meant to find the greatest love, and after they bore a child, the men would lose their lives, leaving everyone behind to mourn. The only way to break the curse was for a daughter to rise and show great strength, sacrificing herself before ever finding requited love … .”

  I slide Brit’s prophecy back into the plastic bag for fear my sweaty palms will soak through and ruin the paper. “Gods and mortals mixed to create, a family bound to separate; that was the curse?”

  Rhoswen jumps to her feet and stands by Perth. “So it was Brit’s love for Kate that breaks the pattern?”

  “I do not know.” Perth sets to pacing between the fire and the tree, muttering with every step. “According to my aunt, none of Morgandy’s daughters ever had more than one child. I assumed the curse would be broken because there would be no one left to suffer.” He stops and stares at me with wide, wild eyes. “How far apart were your births?”

  “Exactly one year.”

  “Your mother knew.” Perth laughs, shrill and insane. “She is a genius. She got pregnant as soon as possible in order to have two children. Maybe the way to break the curse was in your prophecy … maybe she … . Have you read your prophecy?”

  I shake my head, wondering what this all means. My great-grandmother’s history is enlightening, but I still don’t remember whatever it is I’m supposed to in order to get Arland back. ”And even if the shifters weren’t in control of her right now, I still don’t think she’d share it. Arland did say it was one of the clearest prophecies ever told.”

  “Okay, well you have done fine without knowledge of the future, but I thought it might aid us in finding Arland.” Perth stops pacing and returns to his more calm demeanor. “What did his prophecy tell you?�
��

  We sit on the log again, and I read the formal cursive words while everyone gazes off into the distance, listening intently.

  “So your sister is the halfling,” Perth says. “Which means you are one as well. According to my aunt, a god or goddess’s bloodline never decreases. This information certainly explains why they picked you for their powers, but his prophecy does not answer any other questions for us.”

  I fight back a yawn, holding my mouth closed while my eyes water and face burns. It’s been a long day, and I’m no closer to finding Arland or getting answers than I was before, but now I have something to work for, and that tiny speck of hope, that tiny chance I succeed, that makes everything better.

  “The part from your sister’s—‘for everyone including Katriona will win’—I do not understand that.” Rhoswen leans her head on Perth’s shoulder and closes her eyes. “It has to be about more than the war itself. Without light, we have not won anything.”

  “We should rest.” Cadman gets to his feet, then walks to the horses tied at the tree. From his saddle, he pulls a gray, woolen blanket then spreads it on the ground near the fire. “Would you mind sitting with me, ma’am?”

  I leave Perth and Rhoswen and settle onto the scratchy blanket next to Cadman. The fire warms my skin, and the smell of burning timber fills my nose. For once, I don’t feel like throwing up. Calm washes over me, easing my tense muscles.

  “Do you remember what I said to you before we battled on this field?” Cadman asks, taking my hands in his and holding them like a father would his daughter.

  I scan through memories of the time we spent in the cave inside the Baccain Forest. Aside from throwing up repeatedly and always being concerned for my family and our allies, I cannot remember much of anything … except … that’s just it. Cadman told me to remember! “Yes, but I don’t understand.”

  He sighs, heavy and tired. “Twenty years ago, I was a young soldier in service to your parents.”

  “Oh. I thought you worked for Leader Maher.” Leader Maher’s sendoff from Willow Falls certainly indicated a deep closeness between them.

  “Him, too, but I was assigned to protect your family home.” Cadman’s eyes bore through me, but I think he’s looking past me and into his memories, into the reasons why he wanted to have a conversation tonight.

  “Arland said we were living in a time of great peace twenty years ago. Why would you have to protect our home?”

  Perth passes by us and grabs a blanket off his horse. He takes it over to the log, spreads the wool across Rhoswen, sits, then she rests her head in his lap. Perth runs his fingers through her hair and smiles. I miss Arland’s touch, miss his smile … .

  “The Ground Dwellers may have been peaceful at the time as far as battles go, but give them an opportunity to harm us and they would have, curse or no curse. I watched over your mother and father, especially as your mother’s pregnancy progressed. You were already on the list as a High Leader, a threat to Leader Dufaigh on many levels.”

  “Was I chosen for High Leader before or after my prophecy?” I ask, eyelids growing heavy.

  “You were chosen before—”

  “That’s what’s wrong with this world. People are chosen based on their bloodlines and not their actions.”

  He nods. “You are a forgiving and trusting person. If you were raised to see the Ground Dwellers how we saw them, you might not have ever given Perth the chance.”

  “He’s a good man.” I glance at Perth again.

  The orange flames enhance his skin and dance in his eyes, making him appear even warmer than I know him to be. He looks up and smiles, then returns his attention to Rhoswen.

  “Because you trusted him. He was not a good man before he met you; at least, he did not want to be. This is not why I called you over here, though. On the night of your prophecy, your mother came to me.”

  I sit up. Exhaustion moves aside, replaced by coursing adrenaline, and I focus on his deep-set blue eyes.

  “She was crying, something I was not accustomed to seeing a Leader do. She hugged me and thanked me profusely.” Cadman snorts. “I was a young man, and she was a young woman; I did not mind, though I knew your father would.”

  “You liked her?”

  “Not many men would say otherwise, but when she told me why she hugged me, she left me in a state of confusion. She said I would be your guide, the one to help you remain on the correct path through Darkness. Your mother shared many things with me that night, but the most important is what I told you before we battled here and what I will remind you of now: remember what you saw. Remember what you love the most.”

  Chills ripple across my skin. I remove my hands from Cadman’s and scoot closer to the fire, wrapping my arms around my knees. “What I saw where?”

  He picks up a twig, then tosses it into the fire; sparks crackle and fly into the air. “I told you wrong. I should have said remember what you see. Remember what you love the most. I believe it meant for you to pay attention on the battlefield, and I believe when Brit’s prophecy stated ‘Love breaks the pattern then’ it was not only her love for you, but everyone’s love. I do not know much more than that, but I am supposed to tell you to search your heart, and in time, you will understand.” Cadman pats my shoulder. “Your mother tired easily when carrying you. I imagine you must be exhausted after what you have been through.”

  I nod, and the simple act sends aching pains down my spine.

  “Rest now.” He smiles. “Where did the daemon tell you to locate the others?”

  Digging into my pocket, I pull out Arland’s prophecy. I almost forgot about the location of the Leaders. Unfolding the paper, I turn it over, and in the middle in very small print it reads: The Crossing Caves. My hands tremble, and a chill hits my skin. “Looks like we’ll be heading back to The Crossing Caves.”

  Cadman draws in a deep breath. “May the gods go with us.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Brit rests her head against a sappy pine and checks out her nails. “We have all the time in the world up here, Kate.”

  I look around the forest. Mold and mildew grow along the rotting sides of fallen tree trunks littered about the ground. The soil is blacker than the night sky above our heads. Aside from my breathing, everything is silent. The planet is recapturing nature. Magic is dying … life is dying. Spending any more time in this place—wherever we are—is not something of interest to me. “What are we doing here?”

  She leans forward, strands of brown hair sticking to the bark, and smiles. “Waiting for you to remember.” My sister laughs; the sound echoes around me like a taunting bully. “In the meadow where we liked to play, there grow many trees you don’t see every day. As children, we enjoyed their shade and imagined our adult lives; it is where your husband first talked with his wife. The town has one; it’s as old as sin. Behind a veil of time, he is trapped within.”

  I run to my sister, then fall on my knees beside her. “He’s trapped in time?”

  “Do you remember what you’ve seen? Do you remember what you love?” Brit asks, form fading into obscurity. “Do you remember who you are?”

  Lunging for her, my hands touch nothing. I hit the ground, landing on my palms. “Don’t leave me. Please, Brit. I need you. Tell me, is he trapped in time like Mr. Tanner and Gary were?”

  The warmth of her presence swirls around me, lifting my hair from my shoulders and tingling my skin. “Go to the town square. You will find him there. Remember his last words to you. This is what you must do.”

  Tears rush from my eyes, trailing down my cheeks as fast as cars on a racetrack. I dig my fingers into the cold dirt. “Why are you talking like this, Brit?”

  “You have all the information you need. Wake up and proceed.”

  The trees and chilled earth between my fingers disappear. White overtakes darkness, blinding me with its intensity. I close my eyes and cover them with my forearm. “Brit! If he’s trapped in time, why can’t I see him?”

  �
��Ma’am?”

  Someone nudges my shoulder, pulling me from my disturbing dream about Brit. Sharp scents of the charred daemon remains fill my nose and turn my stomach. I’m definitely back in reality. Definitely without Arland again.

  ”Cadman?” I open my eyes, and all I see is his narrowed, concerned gaze. “Brit told me how to find Arland … I think.” Sitting up, I cover my face with my tunic sleeve and breathe in filtered air. Sort of.

  “What did she share with you?” He tosses another log into the fire, a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth.

  “Her message was odd, but strangely clear.” I stand. “We have to find the Leaders first, then we’re going to the square in The Meadows so I can pull Arland from time.”

  Cadman’s smile widens, and he smacks his hands together.

  “Wake up,” he shouts, running to Perth and Rhoswen, then prods them with his boot. “Kate is going to end this very long night.”

  Perth yawns, stretching one arm high above him while the other stays wrapped tightly around Rhoswen’s middle. “You remembered?”

  “Not exactly.” I pick up the blanket and then head for the horses.

  “What do you mean?”

  I roll up the wool, attach it to Mirain’s saddle, then untie her reins. Turning back toward the others, I mount. “Brit visited me in my dream. She said Arland is trapped in time, and if I remember his last words to me, I’ll find him at the chestnut in the square.”

  “A tree of life,” Cadman says.

  “My mom mentioned the willow where Arland and I were Bound is a tree of life. What does it mean?”

  “They have existed here as long as, if not longer than, we have. The trees’ survival rate is incredible. War, drought, heat, blizzards, nothing kills them—”

  “I wouldn’t say nothing, Cadman. The chestnuts in the square and at Watchers Hall look to be on death’s doorstep.”

  “It is widely believed that those trees are the source of all life in Encardia,” he says, avoiding my comment about death, “but there is no recorded history. We should get going.”

  Rhoswen jumps to her feet, then pulls Perth to his. “What about the shifters?” she asks, dragging him toward the horses. “Do you want to go back into The Meadows while they still have control of the Leaders?”