Wilde's Meadow

by Wade, Krystal

  “No—”

  “She will return to The Meadows alone. We will travel to the Crossing Caves to rescue the Leaders.” Cadman steps into Euraid’s stirrup, then mounts.

  Everyone falls silent, staring at Cadman, mouths hanging open.

  “Did you believe I would allow you to return to the caves?” He shakes his head. “Find Arland. Bring Light to Encardia, Katriona. We will bring the Leaders to The Meadows.”

  “Are you suggesting we leave her alone, Cadman?” Perth glowers, his horse shifting under him. “What will my father say if she returns to town without us?” He holds up his hand. “He will say she killed us, he will say she turned away from Light, and he will have her arrested—no matter what good she has done. Kate will not have an opportunity to find Arland because you can be sure my father will be waiting for her.”

  “That is why you will return with her, Perth. Protect her; fulfill your promise to Arland. If your father threatens Katriona, do what you must.” Cadman rides away and looks over his shoulder. “You were the only one of us unaffected by the Crossing Caves, Rhoswen. Are you coming with me?”

  Rhoswen’s green eyes fill with tears. “Cadman is correct. The two of you nearly jumped to your deaths in the caves.” She rides toward Cadman a few paces, keeping her gaze locked on Perth.

  He follows but stops shy of her, glances back at me, revealing his worry, his ache for her, and then he looks at Rhoswen again. “Be safe. Travel fast. I do not trust my father, and considering how close we have become with Katriona, I am positive he no longer trusts me.”

  I look around at what remains of my army, what remains of my life. Losing anyone else would destroy me, ruin any chance I have left for a positive future. Cadman knows everything yet doesn’t share what I want, what I need to hear. “Promise me you aren’t leading me on some wild chase for nothing, Cadman. Promise me I’ll see Arland again?”

  “You are the only person who can make or break that promise, Katriona.” He tips his head toward Perth. “Take care of her.”

  The weight of this world, and probably every other, rests on my shoulders. No one tells me the end result or how to reach it. Everyone leaves me to figure it out by myself when most of them seem to know exactly what will happen.

  Cadman clicks his cheek, and he and Rhoswen start for the Baccain Forest, galloping their horses hard and fast toward the dense line of trees, leaving Perth and me alone.

  “Are you ready?” I ask, watching Perth stare after the others, prepared to get to Arland.

  Perth shudders. “Yes.”

  Torches flicker in the night, lining the path into The Meadows. The abandoned homes we passed on our previous ride into town are now full of Draíochtans peeking out their windows. No one comes out to greet us, wish us well, say hello.

  The shifters and Dufaigh have already poisoned them against us, against me, and it’s only been one night.

  “What do you suppose my father said to have all these people draw their curtains closed on us tonight?” Perth asks, white-knuckled grip squeezing tighter around his saddle horn.

  I snort. “He probably told them I bewitched all of Encardia and killed a good god, and now everyone is being punished by the remaining gods.”

  Perth laughs. “Why, Katriona, it would seem you have channeled my father perfectly.” He reaches over and pushes on my shoulder. “Are you a shifter working for him?”

  “Psst.”

  Perth’s smile fades. Flames engulf my skin, illuminating Saidear’s friendly face peering out from behind a tree next to the path; although his thinly pressed lips suggest he’s anything but happy right now.

  “Said—”

  “Wait,” Perth says, low and firm.

  I look over my shoulder. “It’s Saidear, Perth. We can trust him.”

  “A day ago, we could trust every Draíochtan, but now they all stare at us like we are as evil as Dughbal was. We should proceed with caution.”

  “Right.” Drawing my sword, I ride toward the edge of the path.

  “Saidear?” I whisper.

  Saidear steps from behind the pine, hands up in surrender. “You have no reason to trust anyone, but you can trust me.” He glances at Perth. “Your father has proclaimed you both enemies, stating you abandoned The Meadows in our greatest time of need. He said Katriona lied about her affiliation with the gods and killing the leader of Darkness. All Encardia’s Leaders are in agreement—even your mother, Katriona—that anyone who does not denounce you is also an enemy.”

  “And you’re out here because you are the only one who would not denounce us?” I ask, keeping my eyes on his hands.

  “There are a few of us who refused to speak against you. We all escaped quickly, but there are two children we could not free.” Saidear’s gaze drops to his feet.

  There are only a couple children who would be crazy enough to stand up for me, and one of them doesn’t like telling lies. I’ve protected the pair so many times. Left them. Made promises I didn’t know I could keep, but I will not let them down.

  “Who?” I ask, although I already know: Marcus and Anna.

  Saidear lifts his head, worry lines creasing his forehead. “Anna and Marcus. I know you are fond of them, which is why I have Tristan, as injured as he may be, watching over their cells.”

  “Their cells? Dufaigh is treating them like criminals? They’re just children!” Anger replaces worry, boiling my blood. Dufaigh is no better than Dughbal, and I’m going to kill him just the same. “Your father will never change, Perth.”

  Perth growls, deep and agitated, clenching his jaw. “Lower your voice. We are not alone.”

  Saidear leans to the side and looks behind me. “Ride away, fast.”

  I glance over my shoulder and see at least twenty of my former soldiers standing with swords and bows drawn, eyes glowing white in the night. They’re cursed like all the Ground Dwellers once were, or maybe that’s just how evil presents itself: white eyes, selfish acts. Doesn’t matter. I’m going to fix them, too. I don’t care how odd it is that Dufaigh was able to turn them against me so quickly.

  Saidear removes his sword from its sheath then holds the iron in front of him, bending his knees, readying for a direct battle. “He plans to execute the children tomorrow morning—”

  “What?”

  “At the chestnut in the square. All three will burn.”

  “All three?”

  “The tree as well. Dufaigh said the trees of life will burn as a sacrifice to the gods for your sins.”

  Saidear smacks Mirain’s hindquarters, and she rears, nearly throwing me from her back, then bolts forward through the trees and away from the path, leaving me no opportunity to ask what time, why, how to stop this … leaving me to figure it out on my own.

  Just like always.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Perth and I race on for half an hour in silence, small branches scraping our arms, leaves flying up behind our horses, our faces pale. I don’t know where we’re going, don’t know how to rescue the children.

  Does Dufaigh know one of Encardia’s next already-appointed High Leaders is trapped in the chestnut? Maybe he hopes to kill Arland, or anyone I love, in order to stop me from fighting him. The greasy pig—as Flanna so accurately described Perth’s father—already has control over the Draíochtan minds. Why does he want to stop me? I’m no threat to him when he can just tell lies.

  Perth tugs on his horse’s reins, drawing her to a stop, and I do the same.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, chest burning from the cold air filling my lungs.

  His face is void of the happy appearance he takes on when he’s around Rhoswen, void of life. He’s pale, sweating, lips cracked and chapped. “We need to turn around.”

  “What’s bothering you?”

  “Now there is an odd question.” Perth snorts, pointing to his left, and we ride at a slower pace down a short hill densely covered with trees. “How many people have died? Rhoswen is racing toward the Crossing Caves, you are pregn
ant and racing toward capture and possible execution, my father is about to burn the two children you care about most at the tree where you have to find Arland, and your mother and the other Leaders have been taken over by shifters … there is a lot bothering me.”

  I blink hard. “We will save them. We will save everyone.”

  “Who will save you, Katriona?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I say, pushing a branch from my path.

  “You may be fine, but when did you last eat? When did you last sleep well?” He rubs his stomach, staring ahead. “I am starving, and I am not carrying a child.” Perth licks his thin lips, turning his gaze toward me. “But I can think of no way around your involvement in fighting my father, and I do not believe you would sit out even if I did find a way.”

  Perth changes more and more every day, morphing into the man he yearns to be, into the man who will not sit by and watch people do wrong.

  I smile. “You already have a plan?”

  “We wait.”

  My shoulders slump. Running in with swords drawn and fire covering us would be better than sitting around. “Why do your plans always involve waiting? You do realize we were nearly overrun by daemons the last time you told me to wait?”

  He leans over, avoiding a branch too large to move from his way, and nudges my arm in the process.

  “Will I ever live that down?” he asks, a little color returning to his cheeks.

  “Come up with something better now and then I’ll think about forgiving you.”

  Returning upright, he laughs, carefree and relaxing. “This time my plan will work. We will wait in the thick cover of trees at the highest point above The Meadows. When my father brings the children to the chestnut, and when the others gather around for the show, you should ride in as fast as you can and create a distraction—”

  “And what will you do?”

  “Kill my father.”

  “Whoa.” I push in my stirrups and pull on the reins, stopping Mirain’s progress, and focus on Perth. “Did you just say you’re going to kill your father?”

  He continues riding. “Is there any other way? He does not have a single vein of goodness in his soul. My father is not like you, Katriona, nor will he ever be.”

  “But you are. You might be better than me,” I say, catching up to him. I reach out to Perth and offer him my hand. “You have always known me, and yet you kept my identity a secret. You helped me find everyone when they had been captured, and you sacrificed yourself for their safety. You gave up your pureness to protect Encardia, pretending to love me while we figured out how to form an army—”

  “That part was not necessarily a lie at the time,” he says, taking my hand, not like Arland would hold mine, but as a friend would, a partner.

  “Let me finish.” Warmth spreads around my fingers, traveling up my palm. We are friends, and I have a feeling we will be for a very long time.

  “Sorry. Go on telling me how wonderful I am.”

  “Don’t ruin it.” I laugh, tension evaporating like water from a boiling pot. “You were going to stand up against your father the night Arland and I were caught in the Binding spell.”

  Perth nods.

  “You walked with us out of Willow Falls, united. You led the way through the Crossing Caves, and nearly killed us all, to prove a point and to overcome your anger over your mother’s death. You took a leap of faith and entered Ollmhor with Rhoswen, someone you hated at the time, to gather allies for our fight … you should be the next High Leader, Perth. Not me or Arland. You deserve it more than anyone.”

  He tenses. “I have no interest in becoming High Leader, Kate. You must know that is not my desire.”

  “All the more reason for you to be High Leader.” I lean forward, holding onto Mirain and Perth a little tighter to keep my balance as we climb a hill. My stomach rumbles, giving strength to his words regarding my health.

  “I will never win the elections you propose,” he says, squeezing my hand. “Once this curse is broken, the people will choose you and Arland.”

  “We won’t run.”

  “You will not have a choice. I am nominating you both, for all the same reasons as you nominating me … and a few more.”

  “Maybe the three of us can be High Leaders together.”

  “Four.” Perth lets go of me, then moves a small pine tree limb from his path.

  “Rhoswen?”

  “I was wrong about her.”

  “I know you were. Wouldn’t be the first thing you were wrong about.”

  “We are nearly there.” He stops at the base of another steep hill and looks up. “Once we arrive at the top, we can find the best vantage point, then rest.”

  Starting forward, I ride Mirain up faster than I should. I have to get to the top and make sure Dufaigh’s executions aren’t already taking place, have to make sure Anna and Marcus are safe. I need to know that my family isn’t burning up in the square.

  Perth clicks his cheek and races to me. “Stay quiet. I have no idea if my father will have guards around the town. We may have to fight some of our own,” he whispers. “Can you call to magic and put protections around us like you did on the way to Willow Falls?”

  “I … ” My mother once told me everyone would use magic the way I do; maybe it’s time for other people to start doing that. I’ve taught them, but no one ever tries. “I can, but you can, too.”

  Perth arches his eyebrow. “I have only ever tried once.”

  “Exactly the problem. Love drives our powers, Perth. Every time the magic has come to me, it’s been because something I love was in danger. To take control of the power, I think of what I care about and let those happy feelings boil into anger. You love plenty. This should be easy for you.”

  Imagining Arland’s warm hands, his solid strength for leading his people, his smile, his eyes, the taste of his lips, and his dewy, morning forest scent, I focus those memories and direct their energy over my heart. I think of Dufaigh and what he wants to do to the tree where I can reunite with Arland, and rage flows through me. “Cheilt an maireachtáil leis an dúlra.”

  Sprites rise from the earth, glowing with a bright golden light, then swirl around us. They dart in between trees, circling faster and faster until their light blends and creates a thick, solid barrier of gold. The beings bring me peace of mind as they cast their protective circle. Perth and I have something his father does not: love, hope, power of the gods. We are on the right path and always have been. Our lives have been foretold by Seers, but in the end, it is us who choose to do what’s good and to follow the Light. No one can take away what we’ve done, what we’ve been through, and what we have lying ahead of us. I’ve never been alone in this, never been the only one to suffer. I may have given up more people I love, but any life lost is too much.

  “Cheilt an maireachtáil leis an dúlra,” Perth says, tipping his head back and staring at the sky. “I love her,” he shouts—thank the gods we’re hidden. “I love her, and no one can take that away.”

  “I know.”

  He snorts. “I am trying to use magic.”

  “Think about how she makes you feel, about her strengths, her weaknesses, think about her, then think about what stands in your way.”

  “My father. He stands in the way of everything.” Perth closes his eyes and clenches his teeth, the muscles shifting in his jaw. Blue flames spread from his heart, descending his legs and arms and racing to his face. “With us hidden and my anger, we may not need to wait. We could ride into The Meadows right now and catch everyone off guard.”

  He looks at me with the cold determination of a serial killer. Perth is too eager—much like I was once—to barge in and take control.

  We have to wait.

  “We’re sticking to your plan.”

  The land flattens at the top of the hill, and Mirain stops. I slide from her back, then walk to the edge of the tree line.

  “Careful.” Perth ties his horse to a nearby pine and then joins me. “There is a shar
p drop off, but if you look hard enough, you can see lights.”

  Squinting, I peer through the trees but don’t see anything. “Where?”

  “You are not looking low enough.” He reaches out his finger, pointing at a spot down and out from us by a good thirty feet. “We are quite high.”

  Focusing on where he indicates, I see three dim, orange lights dotting the landscape—and nothing else. “How far away are we?”

  “Not as far as it appears. Those lights are near the soldiers’ quarters. The square is a bit to our West, but I would prefer to stay here for the night. We can rise early and move closer.”

  “So we’re treating this situation as we would one involving daemons?”

  “Yes,” he says, placing his palm under my elbow and guiding me away from the drop off. “Thank you for not agreeing to attack now. It would have been suicide.”

  “You have to learn to control your anger, but don’t subdue it. Letting it out at the right times is key.”

  We stop next to my horse. I grab the blanket from her saddle, spread it under a nearby tree, then sit.

  “Too bad we don’t have anything to eat.” My stomach rumbles, squeezing and shaking with each pang. “You think there are any animals around here to catch?”

  Perth takes a seat next to me, stretches his legs before him and crosses them at the ankles. “Flanna was great at making meals from nothing.”

  “Flanna’s Surprise would be amazing right now. Arland said she made it using magic.” I sigh. “But I never asked her for the recipe.”

  I don’t think I’d make a good housewife. I’m more apt for working with my hands, working with the animals in the fields, and apparently fighting off beasts. “Only a few more hours though, right? Then we can see what food stores they have in the town, and you can break a chicken neck or two.”

  “Hmm?” Perth asks, voice barely audible.

  “I said I can’t wait to eat a chicken you kill with your hands.” I smack my hand over my mouth; the chicken isn’t the only thing Perth will have to kill with his hands. I bet he’s thinking about his father. “How do you plan to kill him?”