Wilde's Army (21 page)

Arland tenses, squeezing my hand as if he’s gripping the hand of an enemy. “Kate, you just told us Dughbal is a god. How does Griandor expect you to kill a god?”

I cringe, and he quickly relaxes his hold on me. “Their father took Dughbal’s immortality from him, but he is unaware of this. However, the more Draíochtans killed by daemons, the more power Dughbal gains. We have to kill him … no, I have to kill him.”

Brit nudges my shoulder, reminding me of her presence. “This history lesson is great and all, but I don’t see what it has to do with Brad.”

I’ve never said it before. I’m not even sure the realization was there until now.
I have to kill my best friend
. Taking Brit’s hand in mine, I pray she doesn’t freak out about what I’m going to tell her.

“Dughbal is Brad,” I say, remembering the feeling of Dughbal’s snake-like tongue flicking against my cheek. “I have to kill Brad.”

The world around me fades away. I have a vague awareness of Arland’s hand in mine, but I could be a million miles away from him.
Will I have the courage to drive my sword through Brad
? Sure, it may not be Brad, but I saw the struggle in his eyes when Dughbal visited me. I know Brad is in there, and I imagine driving a sword through his chest will not only hurt him, it will kill him.

Brit jerks my arm nearly out of its socket. “Kate? Kate, where’d you go?”

“Huh?”

“I’m more than a little confused. You say Brad isn’t bad, then you say he’s Dughbal and you have to kill him. Explain?”

Memories of the coscarthas circling Brad’s body, jumping on him and ripping open his flesh with their long claws, surface and make me cringe. I wish I could go back in time and take it all away. “P-poison. The poison, no, before that. When Brad was lost in the forest … remember I told you Darkness—or Dughbal—tried to get to him, but Mom took care of it? Well, Griandor said Brad was strong, and because of that, Dughbal wasn’t able to taint him. When we came to Encardia, I’m sure the coscarthas wanted to kill Brad, but maybe their poison doesn’t work the same way on regular humans. While Brad was in his coma, Dughbal was able to taint him through the power of the poison. When Brad woke up, it was the tainted Brad who punched me, who spit in my face.”

“W … what about Mark Evans?” Brit is reaching for the same reasons to remain upset with Brad that I did.

“Griandor said Mark Evans had bad intentions for me, and Brad knew it. Apparently Mark got what he deserved.”

She squeezes my fingers. “So, you have to kill Brad, but this Griandor will bring him back to life?”

“Yes.”

Brit sits up on her knees. Her strained smile sends tears racing down her pale cheeks. “And you love Arland?”

“Um, Brit?”

“I believe I know your secret now, Brit,” Arland says with an even tone.

She looks at him, then me. My sister hides her face with her hands, and her body trembles, sobs silencing her words.

I look between them. I’m not sure I follow. “Brit?”

“Kate, can you not see? Brit loves Brad.”

I laugh at Arland. “No she doesn’t. She was dating Taylor Evans. Never once did she say she liked Brad.”

I pry back her fingers, but she pulls away. “Brit?”

Without lifting her head, she cries even louder. “It’s true, Kate.”

Finding my way to my feet, I ball my fists at my sides. She pretended this would be a happy conversation, that she could help me. But all she’s done is add more hurt. “Why wouldn’t you tell me? And if you liked him so much, why didn’t you start hating him when you found out he punched Mark? Why were you dating Mark’s brother? I have so many ‘whys’ for you it’s not even funny.
You
were my best friend, the only one who never hid anything from me. Now you aren’t any better than Mom, or Brad for that matter.”

The woods are too crowded. Our hiding spot is too full of watchful eyes that aren’t supposed to see me cry. I want to scream. I want to run away. Arland and Brit look at me with different expressions of equal parts shock, hurt, confusion and other things I’m not even going to try to understand.

I will find the river and look for the others, and I will find it fast. No second glances will be spared in my sister’s direction. Aside from Arland, and maybe even Gary, everyone has lied to me. I thought I could trust Brit, thought she shared everything with me. No wonder she gets along with Mom so well. They are exactly alike.

I’m halfway down the hill, sliding on the dead leaves matching the rest of this dead world. I slip, arms flailing at my sides, but regain control then return to marching away from Brit.

Arland runs behind me, begging me to stop, but I don’t, and I won’t.

“Kate, stop.” He catches up to me and grabs onto my shoulders, putting an end to my escape. “You have to go back up. We have just left them defenseless.”

Guilt as well as anger, frustration, and self-pity fill me now. Gone are the days where Kate used to worry about Kate. Now I’m responsible for an army, for children, for my love—and it’s only going to get worse. “She lied to me. She was the only one who hadn’t, and now … .” A lump forms in my throat.

“Are you upset with her because she lied, or are you upset with her because Brad is the object of her affection?”

“What’s
that
supposed to mean?” I push his hand from my shoulder then climb back up the hill. I have to protect the soldiers and children.

Little good my abandoning does, he catches back up to me then takes my hand.

Arland pulls me into him and holds my gaze. “Kate, he is someone you loved. I cannot imagine spending all the years you did with him and you not having a deeper connection than you admit to. Search your feelings. Did you never, not once, feel there might be something more with him?”

I want to yell out
no, why are you jealous
, but I don’t. Arland is right. Although I know my relationship with Brad is nowhere near as strong as mine with Arland, there was a time I thought there might be more. I was so comfortable in the tent with Brad, so taken aback by him when he stepped into the water outside the portal. I do love Brad. I love Arland more, but there is love for Brad. A love that could lead to something more if I ever explored it further. The spark wasn’t there when we kissed—at least not for me—but we are two compatible people … if we tried, I’m sure our friendship could catch fire.

Leaning my head into Arland’s chest, I sigh. “Once.”

“‘Once’ being your way of admitting you felt something more for him?” Arland wraps his arms around me then rests his hands on the small of my back.

“Yes, Arland. Once I felt something more for him. Right before we came to Encardia. In the swimming hole, and then immediately after, in the tent. He held me in his arms when I was cold. I felt something … comfort or safe or at home … but it doesn’t matter because as soon as he kissed me, I knew I didn’t love him the same way.”

He pulls away, keeps his left arm around my shoulder then starts forward, back up the hill. “So are you upset with Brit because you feel she is taking him away or because she never shared it with you?”

“Because she never shared it. It would be ridiculous for me to say because she is taking Brad away. I love you and want to be with you.”

“I am not asking because I doubt your love for me, but I believe you may love us both, but for very different reasons.”

“Trust me. The only thing I’m mad about is being lied to. Think about everyone who’s lied to me. Go ahead: my mom, Brit, and even Brad.”

He glances at me. “I know.”

“To tell you the truth, I always thought Brad and Brit would make an excellent couple. Usually they’d talk each other’s heads off when I fell asleep, or they’d share drinking stories, or … but none of it matters because he loved me and Brit—”

“Has had to endure this lie, knowing how much he loved you, how much you did not reciprocate his love, and how much she wanted to be with him.”

“I guess I came across like a jerk, huh?” I stare into his knowing eyes.

“Considering all the lies you have been told, no, but your sister has her reasons for withholding this secret. What good would it have done her to tell you? You would have mentioned it to Brad, and what would he have done?”

I suck in a sharp breath. “He told me he wanted to marry me. Before Shay put him in the coma, Brad said he knew from the moment he met me he wanted to be with me forever. It’s not fair for either of them.”

“When we win this war, Griandor will heal his heart and then maybe there will be a chance for Brad and Brit,” Arland says. “Would you like to speak to your sister alone?”

Looking up, I see Brit sitting by the tree, arms crossed over her chest. She leans her head back, eyes closed. “No. She’s an expert at hiding things, and we need her advice.”

My sister’s advice for hiding things is ridiculous, but considering how well it’s worked for her, I have no other choice but to take it. From now on, anytime I look at Arland, I’m supposed to think of Perth or Dughbal or anything that generally displeases me.

Knowing her secret explains all the sour faces she’s given Brad over the years. It also explains why he used to ask me if he smelled bad when we were preteens. I used to think he was self-conscious about puberty, but now I understand he was noticing Brit. I don’t want to be mad at her about who she loves, but there’s a significant part of me still crushed by her inability to trust
me
.

“So I’m gonna go back
inside
and talk to Mom now.” Brit doesn’t move away; she looks down and kicks a patch of pine needles over with her boot.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

She raises her head, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. “No. I’m sorry I never told you. I just thought one day you’d wake up and see how wonderful he is and want to be with him. And I guess … I guess I was just scared I’d get my heart broken, or I’d ruin your life or—”

I wrap my arms around her before she can apologize for anything else.

She squeezes back, nearly expelling all the air in my chest.

“Brit, if I’d known you cared for him so much, I wouldn’t have stood in the way,” I say after refilling my lungs with the dank, rotten air. “I do realize how wonderful he is. I love him dearly. Life wouldn’t have been so much fun if Brad wasn’t around, but you both deserve to be happy. I can’t provide that happiness for either of you.”

Brit hides her face on my shoulder. “You’re wrong, Kate. You can provide happiness for Brad. You are the very thing that makes his world spin.”

I step back, staring at her swollen face, her broken expression. “If I made his world spin, I’d be with him, and that’s not going to happen. You may have been right when you said he was obsessed with me. Not stalker obsession, but unwilling to see the truth that there is no future between us. I hope once he does see that, he’ll be open to your feelings.”

She looks at Arland then to me. “I hope so, too, because I want what you two have.”

I hold her anguish filled gaze. “One day you will have it because Griandor will bring Brad back, then he can be all yours.”

Brit bites her quivering lower lip, then turns and heads toward the canopy of sumac.

Something festers in me as she walks away—something dangerously close to panic. My hands shake, and I wipe them on my pants. “Just remember, don’t say anything.”

She stops but doesn’t turn around.

“I won’t.” Her words are soft-spoken, an unusual tone for my witty sister.

Brit told me she wouldn’t say anything about Dughbal, and now I’m telling my sister I don’t trust her. And I don’t. I’m sure my request hurt, maybe even broke, her ego. Forgiveness is something I’ve already given her, but I cannot forget she kept a secret from me for so many years while I told her so much about myself. She knew my deepest secrets, my love for someone I dreamed of, my every fear, and yet she couldn’t tell me hers.

Arland takes my hand, lacing his warm fingers with mine, leans down then places a gentle kiss on top of my head. “You no longer trust her?”

His eyes, they radiate with knowledge and questions all at the same time. “Yes … no … I don’t know. Of course I love her and she’s my sister, but Arland, she lied to me. I understand why she did it, and maybe I would have done it, but she knew everything about me.”

He shakes his head. “She omitted more so than lied.”

I step away from him. “Are you defending her?”

“In a way, yes.”

I ignore the smile and the you-are-acting-childish look on his face so I can scold him. “How could you possibly defend lying or omitting or whatever you want to call it?”

“What good would it have done for her to tell you? You would have tried to pair the two of them together—to their dismay. Brad would have felt awkward because he was there for you, and Brit would have lost the ability to remain casual with him. Even if you had not made an attempt to pair them, you would have known her feelings and, therefore,
you
would have felt awkward when Brad made attempts—”

I clench my hands at my sides. “It wasn’t like that. He only ever made an attempt once.”

“Katriona,” he says, pleading in his voice, “I took his memories from him; not all of them were tainted. You may not be aware of the other attempts, but he loved you for a very long time. There must have been hints or clues or affections shared between the two of you he never shared with any other.”

Arland insinuates I’m naïve. Instead of the normal calming affect he has on me, I’m furious. “We were just friends. Or, I was just his friend. We never did anything until we came here.”

Arland steps toward me, eyes locked with mine, making me want to run away or smack him for pushing my emotions, but I fight the urge. I love him and don’t want to argue, don’t want to raise my voice, don’t want Brad of all people to come between me and Arland.

He takes my hands then closes the space between us. “So Brad never held your hand?” Arland asks, dragging his thumb across my palm.

“Never allowed you to rest your head on him? Never touched your hair? Never hugged you or held a door open for you?”

“No.” Knowledge that I’m lying hits me with the weight of a wrecking ball slamming into a house. I’ve been lying to myself since I found out Brad loved me … no, before that. I knew on our trip, from the moment I rested my head over his heart and heard the rapid thuds of
his
lies. But the friendship we shared was so genuine, so pure, so perfect—or so I thought. Instead of being my best friend, he made me look like a fool, and I let him. Everyone knew … even Gary.