Wilde's Meadow

by Wade, Krystal

  My mom takes Anna by the shoulders and guides her to one of the posts. Her chin quivers, and she doesn’t take her eyes off her brother.

  Dufaigh pushes Marcus toward his post, scoffing when the child trips over his feet.

  Leader Maher faces the children, arms out at his sides. “We are not cruel Leaders, Marcus, Anna. I will offer you a way out of this one more time. Denounce Arland and Katriona Maher, and your lives will be yours to live.”

  Anna regains control of her chin and stares defiantly at Leader Maher. “You are going to die. You are not High Leader Maher, this is not Leader Wilde, and Arland and Katriona Maher are going to save us. They will not allow you to go through with this.”

  Dufaigh laughs, his belly bouncing up and down, then takes a deep breath. “Oh, dear child, I do hope your brother is smarter than you.”

  Leader Maher turns to Marcus. “This is your last chance. Will you choose Light, or will you choose Darkness?”

  Marcus glances at Anna, then back to the Leader before him. “I chose Light a long time ago; it is you who chooses Darkness.”

  “Suit yourself.” Leader Maher faces his left and snaps his fingers. “Soldiers.”

  Now would be a good time for Perth to shoot his father. Now would be a good time for me to create a distraction. Now would be a good time to kill someone. What do I say? How do I not get attacked by the crowd?

  I can’t allow this to happen.

  Dufaigh walks to the front of the platform, frowning. “I doubt anyone will speak up, but if anyone would like to take the place of these children or can offer any reason as to why they should not be punished, please, speak now.”

  My opportunity is now. I push my way through the crowd of bloodthirsty Draíochtans, keeping my head down, weaving around men and women. Breaking through the front of the crowd much like I broke through the line of trees, I rush toward the platform and release my magic, blue flames encasing my body in a fit of rage. “I would like to speak against your punishment for them.”

  “Why, Katriona Maher, how lovely to see you,” Dufaigh says.

  “I knew she would come,” Anna says, relief filling her words.

  “I knew she would, too.” Marcus doesn’t sound as sure, but then he’s already been tortured. I’ve already let him down once.

  “I wish I could say the same, Leader Dufaigh, but I am sorry, you are not a lovely sight.” I glare at him, squeezing the hilt of my sword, ready to come through if Perth misses.

  Dufaigh must die.

  “Are you here to kill the rest of us?”

  “No. Just you.” I smile, making it as cheesy as possible. I am not afraid, not in this moment. I’ve faced a god. I’ve killed a god. This man will not torment anyone else.

  High Leader Maher leaves the children and comes to stand behind Leader Dufaigh, green eyes meeting mine. “You lied to our people, Katriona. You murdered a god. You have not brought light to Encardia as you promised you would. Why do you fight against us?”

  Dufaigh growls. “She does not need to answer that.”

  Does he realize this shifter no longer wishes to fight against us? Does he realize the shifter is acting on his own free will and not on Dufaigh’s orders?

  “Oh, but I will. I fight because Anna and Marcus are right. You are not High Leader Maher, that is not my mother, and I never left the path of Light. Dufaigh has you all fooled, placed under a spell created by Foghlad.”

  I turn and speak now to everyone behind me, praying I can keep up this distraction. “If you want to see the sun again, you must trust me. Who brought stars and the moon to Willow Falls? Who led an army ten times smaller than that of Darkness’s and won? Many of you fought with me. Many of you lost loved ones. Many of you were my friends. Whatever fog fills your brain, it is not of my doing. It’s of Dufaigh’s.”

  I look up, and High Leader Maher’s shifter tips his head, a reassurance he’s still on my side, a positive reaction.

  “Who here believes her?” he asks.

  Angry shouts erupt from behind me. Cries of ‘No one’, ‘Burn her’, and ‘Down with Darkness’ bounce around from person to person as if they’re trading phrases.

  Where is Perth? Why hasn’t he killed his father yet? Why haven’t Cadman and Rhoswen freed the real Leaders of Encardia?

  “You are wise people.” Leader Dufaigh sighs.

  “Are they? Or are they blind like Katriona says they are?” High Leader Maher jumps from the platform and stands next to me. I know he’s a shifter; I know he’s an enemy, but I want to reach out to him, hug him, tell him I miss his son and that I cannot thank him enough for the lengths he and everyone else have gone through for their people. “Do you have a way to prove your accusations?”

  “I do, but I need more time.”

  Mom stands on the other side of Dufaigh, pursing her thin lips. “Katriona, my dearest daughter, please stop these foolish games. I am not a shifter. I am your mother. I have already lost everything. Please, do not add your name to that list.”

  I focus on High Leader Maher then close my eyes, just to be sure. His pulsing bright-white core radiates with light, black bands snapping around it. I check my mother as well. She’s a shifter, too. Cadman and Rhoswen need to hurry. I’m not sure how much longer Leader Dufaigh will allow his slaves to keep up this game. There has to be another way. Draíochtans need to see for themselves … .

  Turning, I face the scowling crowd. “Think of what you love, think of what you wish to have when this war is over, when you are in your homes, living in the sunlight, swimming in the waters, eating different foods all the time. Think of who you want to be with you—”

  “What do you think you are doing?” Dufaigh asks.

  “Letting them see the truth.”

  “Do not listen to her. Katriona is trying to trick you, to brainwash you the way she has these children—”

  I ball my fists at my sides. “He is afraid because he knows if you conjure magic, magic you are born to use, magic that creates life itself, you will see through his game of charades. You will know he is a liar. Think of what you love, focus that love over your heart, then let it turn to rage, rage against what stands between you and freedom … then close your eyes and look at High Leader Maher and Leader Wilde. You will see them for who they truly are.”

  A few people in the crowd exchange confused looks, but one person at the very back, someone I’ve never met before, closes his eyes and bursts into blue flames. “She is right! I see shifters under the skin of Leaders Wilde and Maher.”

  He pushes his way toward us. People part to avoid being touched by his fire. “Katriona is not lying.”

  Dufaigh’s boots clunk on the wooden platform as he takes a couple steps back. “She manipulates you.”

  “No, I do not believe she does. I believe it is you,” the man says, staring at Dufaigh with narrowed eyes.

  “Cyric, Deverell, kill him.”

  I turn and face Dufaigh, but he’s gone. “Where?”

  “Kate!” Anna screams, curdling my blood.

  Thick, gray smoke rises from beneath the platform, reminding me of what I envisioned when I entered Encardia, but this time one daemon is on our side and one of our own has betrayed us.

  Stop Dufaigh. Release the children. Tell Perth the time is now, and if he doesn’t hurry, I’ll kill his father myself.

  Sprites appear in the smoke, emerge from the platform, burst through the ground, detach from the trees, jump out of the fire, then fly around in organized chaos. A dozen gray beings free the children from their bindings, while hundreds of other orange and red sprites carry away the burning embers in their small hands. The rest of the magic, shaped like leaves and stones, pick up Dufaigh and deposit him in front of me.

  “Your friends have come through for you, Katriona. May we never meet again,” High Leader Maher says, patting my shoulder. His skin melts and falls to the earth along with the white core of the shifter. A disgusting pile of hair, blood, skin, teeth, and eyes—everything Leader Ma
her is made up of on the outside—now lies at my feet, staring back at me.

  The mystery man gasps, and I do everything in my power not to puke.

  Two feminine hands close around my throat, cutting off my airflow. “He may have been willing to go home, but I am not.”

  Thrashing, I bang my arms against the shifter’s, fighting to breathe, fighting for my life.

  “Enough,” Dufaigh shouts, smiling and grabbing at something on his belt. Whatever he holds is invisible, and he holds it just like a sword.

  My “mom” huffs and slightly loosens her grip.

  “Allow me the honor,” he says.

  Ground Dweller magic. His protection. Perth showed me how they manipulated magic, how they convinced it to make weapons by thinking of them as protection instead.

  “Your eyes are wide with fear. My son tell you about our magic when you tricked him into loving you? Did he tell you what I carry on me at all times?”

  “Not in so many words, but I know what you have in your hands you intend to use to kill me.” There’s no sense in telling him that I didn’t trick anyone. I wheeze, still struggling to bring in air past the shifter’s grasp; Perth needs to make good on his part of the deal and kill his father fast.

  Leader Dufaigh lunges and nearly falls over. He’s so fat, so out of shape. Something tells me he hasn’t used a weapon in a long time, but that makes him no less dangerous. He regains his footing and straightens his tunic, then presses the invisible thing to my throat, cutting into my skin, and my mother’s shifter releases me.

  Come on, Perth. This is your moment.

  “I have waited for this for a long time. None of these people will speak against me. Not now. Your death combined with Arland Maher’s”—Dufaigh grins, revealing his disgusting yellow teeth—”will secure my son’s place, my people’s place as Rulers of Encardia.”

  Something glimmers in the corner of my vision. I look above Dufaigh’s cold, hard eyes. A single arrow burning with blue light soars through the sky.

  “You’re right. Your son deserves to be High Leader of Encardia, but not on your terms. On his. He’s just proved he’s a bigger man than you’ll ever be.”

  He cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. “What—?”

  The arrow plunges through Dufaigh’s back and pierces through his heart, crimson trickling down his white tunic. He drops his weapon and grabs at the sliver of metal sticking from his chest.

  “Perth?” he whispers.

  “Yes, Perth.” I kick him in his gut, then in one swift motion turn and draw my sword.

  But the shifter falls into a messy pool of skin and blood.

  Anna and Marcus run to me and then wrap their arms around my waist.

  “I knew you would come, Kate. I knew it,” Anna says, smiling up at me.

  The people move closer to us, eyes white and wide, expressions angry.

  “It is still night,” the strange man who saw the shifter in High Leader Maher says, holding out his arms in front of us, protecting me and the children.

  I grab their hands and pull them close. “We aren’t through this yet. If I say run, you run. Do you two understand?”

  “I understand,” Marcus says.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “You killed them. You killed our Leaders. They were right about you.” A short, blonde woman stalks forward. She’s pale—a Ground Dweller—and her eyes are colorless.

  I back the children behind me, but there’s nowhere for us to go. The platform blocks escape on one side while the crowd blocks freedom on the other.

  The man who conjured magic looks over his shoulder, arms still spread wide, and mouths ‘run’.

  He doesn’t realize I can’t run, everything I need, everything this world needs, is right here. “No.”

  I thought killing Leader Dufaigh would end Foghlad’s curse … again. I don’t understand this power, and the time for figuring it out has passed.

  I mirror the crowd’s angry looks, narrowing my eyes, and grab the hilt of my sword. “I won’t hurt any of you, unless you make me.”

  The man rushes toward the strange mix of Ground Dwellers, Light Lovers and Sea Dwellers, scaring them with his flames, pushing them back with only a threat of his potential powers.

  “Cheilt an maireachtáil leis an dúlra,” Anna whispers, voice shaking. “Marcus, say the Concealment spell.”

  He repeats her ingenious words, and so do I, drawing the attention of the magic.

  Sprites abandon their attempts to control the fire and encircle me, Anna, and Marcus, glowing with bright golden light.

  The cursed Draíochtans stop their forward progress and glance around, confused. Whispers and curses fill the air. I imagine some of those hungry for a fight are now disappointed.

  I take a deep breath, my throat still achy from being strangled. “They can’t see us.”

  Anna shivers. “What are we going to do? And where is Arland?”

  My heart stutters, and I stare behind us. Orange flames consume the dry leaves on the ground. The fire grows closer and closer to killing the tree of life, the tree somehow containing my husband. “He’s in the chestnut, trapped in time.”

  Marcus tugs us toward it. “I will keep watch while you work to save the tree.”

  Do I even know what to do? How do I bring someone out from behind a veil of time? I wish there was a step-by-step guide for “Saving Your Loved Ones From Curses of the Gods”.

  Step-by-step. My mom’s letter for bringing Gary out of his time lock was written in four parts, four steps.

  “Stay close.” I release the children’s hands, then reach into my armor pocket. Pulling out the sandwich bag, my fingers shake and my insides tremble.

  Please let this work.

  The second flap says ‘Hold the world in its graceful slumber, maintaining this permanent summer, but free those who Katriona needs, and release the animals so the girl they can feed’.

  This won’t help me.

  Only the line about freeing those who I need seems worthwhile. I sigh. “Free Arland from his tomb in time. Bring him to me, so I can be his and him mine.”

  Puffy, white smoke billows from the tree’s roots, like the fire is laughing at me for being so dense. I’m running out of time, and I’m running out of hope.

  Marcus and Anna stamp out the flames surrounding us, but their efforts are no use. I don’t know what I’m doing, and Mom’s letter certainly isn’t going to provide answers.

  I fall to my knees, allowing the paper to drift to the ground and go up in flames, then close my eyes. “I’ve never been able to stop any of this. I’ve only been able to do what any normal Draíochtan should be able to do; the only difference has been my connection with you, Griandor. I’m not special. I’m not smart or powerful. I’m Katriona, first daughter born to Brian and Saraid Wilde, sister to Brites Wilde, wife to Arland Maher, great-granddaughter a few times over to your sister Morgandy Domhnaill … .”

  The children place their hands on my shoulders, squeezing, but I’m not ready to stop complaining, I’m not ready to walk away from Arland, this tree, this world, or these people.

  “No, I’m much different.” I clench my fists and glare up at the dark sky. “I grew up on Earth, I made friends with Ground Dwellers, I fell in love with a man who filled my nightmares every night. Your brother stole my best friend’s life, his childhood, his future. You used me. You all used me. Dughbal may have been many horrible things, but he was right. I’m just a pawn, but I don’t have to be.” I get to my feet, anger boiling inside. “I have command of nature, of life and light, and I’m not afraid to use any of it.”

  I need you, more now than ever. Wake up. Fill this world with light, reveal Arland to me, stop these burning flames, break Foghlad’s curse, make time normal, make everything normal again!

  Fire ripples across my arms, spreading to Anna and Marcus, engulfing the three of us in blue. My skin warms as the power moves down my chest and legs then along the ground toward the tree.
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  Like blood speeding through veins, streaks of bright light race up the lines in the bark and spread into the dead leaves. The tree’s crooked trunk straightens. Life returns, casting a cool glow on the ground and platform, and illuminates Arland lying motionless on his side.

  He’s covered in blood, dirt, cuts … .

  My chest tightens. “Arland?”

  I start forward, but someone grabs the back of my tunic and pulls me away.

  “What are you doing? I have to go to him! Let. Go. Of. Me!” I turn around and find Perth.

  Figures.

  But I can’t stay mad at him for keeping me from Arland. Perth just killed his father to save me and Encardia. I press my cheek to his shoulder and squeeze my arms around his, then back away just as quickly. “Are you okay?”

  His face is sullen and gray, and his mouth presses into a grim line, his gaze landing anywhere but on me. “I will be when I know I did not kill my father in vain.”

  “You didn’t. I need to help Arland now.”

  “Not yet,” he says, closing his fingers around my biceps. “Give the magic more time to work.”

  Tears fill my eyes, but I manage to nod. I turn around and plaster my attention on Arland, afraid to let him out of my sight for too long. “How did you find us?”

  “I watched you disappear behind the Concealment spell, and then I watched the tree light up. You were not difficult to find.”

  “How’d you get through the spell?”

  “You were no longer conjuring it by the time I arrived.”

  Anna tugs my left hand. “We released it when everyone went away.”

  I risk a glance around, searching for the angry Draíochtans, but we’re alone. “Where did they go?”

  “Not here, and that is all that matters. We have more important things to worry about.” Perth lets go of me, then stands on the other side of Anna. He takes her hand and meets my eyes, holding me captive in his serious gaze. “Use me, Griandor. Give Kate her happiness. Take my life if you must, but give her and Encardia what they deserve.”