Wilde's Army (30 page)

“And you think my son will be the best security for her?” Leader Maher asks with a hint of disbelief. “I believe that to be a waste of his time and will put many lives at stake.”

“I think it a perfect idea, Kimball.” Dufaigh chuckles and rubs his chin. “The Great Arland Maher resorts to protecting his former intended. But can
he
be trusted? Look at all his recent failures, Son.”

“He has failed no one,” Arland’s father says, overpowering everyone’s chatter. “He must run this mission to Wickward. Would you prefer to have our people die just to protect one girl?”

Dufaigh bolts out of his seat then leans across the table, face red and wild. “One girl?
One girl
? Do you have any idea how powerful this
one girl
is?”

Leader Maher’s wooden chair creaks as he stands, shoulders squared, face emotionless. “I do, but I also understand you want to strip that power away from her and make her nothing but a piece in
your
game for power.”

He paces the length of the table, so much like Arland back at Watchers Hall. “We do not have time for these games, Dufaigh. We need to gather our people and form a more powerful army. I do not wish to fight any more than you do, but fight we must. We are dying. There are three bases of people left to our entire race. What will you or your son stand to gain when there are no people for either of you to rule?”

“Need I remind you the price for these bases you speak of? If it were not for my kind, no one would be alive now. My son’s marriage to this
one girl
is finally the payment we have been awaiting.” Dufaigh returns to his chair then leans back.

“If he wishes to have Arland on her security so there are no issues with that marriage, then that is what he will get. Unless you wish me to evacuate the remaining bases of all Sea Dwellers and Light Lovers alike? Or I could repeal our peace agreement and we can go to war now?”

Mom scowls, looking back and forth between the men as they tell lies, as they try to move their figurative chess pieces. She makes a slight shift in her chair as if she’s about to get up and speak her mind, but Leader Maher shakes his head.

“Leave it, Saraid. If Perth wishes for Arland to watch over Katriona, and Dufaigh threatens to throw us out otherwise, then that is what we must do. Part of the arrangement made between our kinds many years ago.” He rolls his eyes.

Arland stands so fast his chair falls backward on the floor with a loud
clack
. “You are giving in to his demands? Who will lead the soldiers to Wickward? Who will ensure they have a safe return?”

Something about the way his face turns bright red and his eyes narrow, mimicking the anger in his raised voice, tells me Arland is not pretending. He’s upset about being stuck here. He loves his people. To know they need him, need us—it must be eating him alive. But Mom said he’d be killed if he went on his father’s mission, and Arland knows how much he protects me … .

Everyone ignores him, even me.

“I would like him to be within sight of her at all times—except at night when I would like him posted outside her door. Is that agreeable?” Perth asks, breaking the tension.

Dufaigh raises an eyebrow. “What do you expect of the other men here, Perth?”

“Look at her, Father.” Perth brings my hand to his lips and kisses it.

“I have. I do not see what attracts you to her, but if this is what makes you feel safe, then this is what we will do. I will assign one of my guards to be Arland’s partner. Someone will need to relieve him for breaks and sleep.”

Arland stands next to his father, arms crossed over his chest. “Are you seriously going to sit back and allow this?”

“My hands are tied.” High Leader Maher shrugs. “This is the way things are.”

“Who will go to Wickward?”

“We will gather our most trusted men. You may pick a leader, and they will leave in the morning.”

He places his hands on Arland’s shoulders. “I do not like you being stuck here any more than you do, but we do not always have a choice.”

“Well, I believe my work here is done,” Dufaigh says, pushing his hands on the table to help himself up. “Get cleaned up—all of you. I will send a dresser to your quarters, Katriona. She will prepare you for your outing as Perth’s future wife. We will meet in the great room at seven.”

Leader Maher grabs Dufaigh’s arm before he walks away. “I need to speak with Arland for a moment, Dufaigh. Do you mind?”

“As long as he can see Katriona, I do not mind where he goes. Son, do you have an issue with this?”

Perth has to say yes. If he doesn’t, his father will be suspicious.
I
would be suspicious.

“She needs to eat and prepare for the celebration. There is no time for Arland to speak with his father now. Can you not speak to one another while she bathes?”

The muscles in Arland’s jaw jut. “Fine.”

“Where will we find our quarters?” Mom asks.

“Ahh, I nearly forgot about you. You will need to remain here while your dear friend Kimball decides your fate.” Dufaigh turns and heads from the room, snapping his fingers. “Let us leave them to it now, children. Follow me.”

Brit scrambles from her chair then wraps her arms around Mom’s trembling body. “I’m not leaving you, Mom.”

“You must. This is my problem, dear. I have been expecting this for a very long time.” Mom pats Brit’s hand but looks at me. “Go. Follow him. Do this. He will at least allow me to live long enough to see you married.”

My breath catches in my chest. She isn’t talking about me marrying Perth. She can’t be. Dufaigh may believe that if he hears, her words may even bring him pleasure, but I don’t think she has any hope she’ll make it through our time at Willow Falls. She must have some knowledge that her last act as my mom will be to Bind me and Arland.

Perth tugs my hand, but I cannot move from my seat. My eyes lock with Saraid Wilde’s—the only living parent I have left, and one who has given up everything for me.

“We must go. We cannot keep my father waiting.”

Heat rushes into my face, around my eyes. Sweat beads on my forehead.

“If he has to come back, he will know something is wrong. Please, come. I promise you will see your mother again.”

Everyone’s gaze is on me, but the only one that matters is the one across from me, the one scared and alone, the one I have not trusted enough. “I’m sorry … .” I whisper.

“Go.” She waves.

Shaking, I stand then allow Perth to lead me from the room, and Arland and Brit follow behind us.

Before the shadows hide Mom from me, before I somehow forget what she looks like, I glance over my shoulder and see her crying in High Leader Maher’s arms.

I hope she knows how much I love her.

The bath here is similar to the one at Watchers Hall—the only exception is there are multiple stone enclosures in the same room. Privacy is a thing of the past.

Hope is too.

Brit and I walk hand-in-hand into the dark washroom with our dingy-white towels slung over our shoulders. Neither of us has spoken since we left communications. The man who wishes to steal everything I am also wishes to steal everything that made me this way and everything keeping me this way.

My sister and I drop hands and separate; Brit goes to the enclosure on the left while I go to one on the right. Placing our towels on small wooden tables in front of the enclosures, we draw the linen curtain between us then slip out of our clothes.

Dust rises in a cloud around me. Remnants of war and death—including mine—all fly up to greet me. I sneeze.

“Bless you,” Brit says.

It’s the first thing she’s said to me since we found out our Mom might die, and for whatever reason, it makes me laugh.

“What could possibly be funny?” Brit asks, voice flat.

“This—all of this. It’s stupid and pointless. Dufaigh is an idiot. I have the power to destroy him, but Griandor wants us all united, and here I am, about to play dress-up and pretend I’m in love with someone I’m not, and you say ‘Bless you’. It’s so normal and appropriate, and right now our lives are anything but.” Still laughing, I step into the water.

“I think you’ve lost your mind. You died, Kate. Arland saved you … again. You’ve seen blood and battles and—”

Faces of people from Watchers Hall flash before my eyes. Glenna, Enid, Lann, even the people I hadn’t become friends with. Old and young alike, people have lost their lives because I have not ended this war. I swallow hard. “I know. I was there, remember? But I don’t know how Arland saved me the second time. What happened?”

Air bubbles linger on my skin and occasionally tickle my back and arms as they rise to the surface. How simple it is for the air to return to where it belongs. I wish there were a way for me to make it to the surface, breathe fresh mountain breezes, soak in a healthy world, but I’m trapped. Stuck in a lie. Forced to play chess with a bunch of selfish men and women.

“I kept thinking you were going to turn into a werewolf or something after the hounds scratched you.”

”Brit?” I can’t help but giggle.

“I know it sounds stupid, but I always loved scary movies. Anyway, your body turned bright-red, blood poured from your arm, and you just froze. Seconds went by where you didn’t move a single muscle, then you just kind of fell over.”

The poison the hounds carry must have the ability to cause paralysis. I wanted to move, wanted to see Arland or go to him, but was like a statue.

“Arland must have killed a hundred daemons at once. So much magic poured out of him. Blues and golds filled the sky, and they were all coming from him. That’s how I knew you weren’t dead—at least, that’s what I told myself. You need each other for this magic to work. So you couldn’t be dead, right?”

Picturing what he must have looked like, a tinge of regret hits my heart. I wish I could have seen him. Seen how powerful he was. For me. For us. For Encardia. “I think so.”

“Anything that tried to get near him just died. When the stupid things realized it, they backed off and attacked everyone else. He couldn’t save you and protect us, but you were more important. Mom and Keagan flipped you onto your back and told Arland what to do. He slammed his fist into your chest, then it was just like CPR.”

Because of me all those soldiers and children are gone, because I died and was more important for Arland to save than them.

I grab a bar of soap from the ledge then scrub it all over my body, trying to get any remaining venom off my skin, any blood of my friends. Everywhere I look there’s more, more loss, more proof of the senseless war going on around me. The water turns cloudy and brown, but it all flows away with the spring, flows outside with the rest of this dead world. As though the horrible things in the forest never occurred, the enclosure is clean, pure. “There was this white cloud or something. The most flawless white I’ve ever seen—seriously, cotton balls, sterile rooms, I’m sure nothing on the planet could compare. I stood up and took a step forward, and when I did, something smacked me in the chest and wherever I was turned black. Voices became clear, memories flooded back to me. Brit, I’m pretty sure I was in Heaven.”

“Which would explain why after a few minutes of CPR, the magic faded, and the rest of us had to find a way to protect all of you. That’s when most of the soldiers were killed.”

My chest constricts. I rub my hand across it, pressing the tender flesh with the tips of my fingers. My skin is swollen, and I’m sure it’s bruised, but even if every rib was broken, the pain would never be greater than the guilt I feel for all those lives lost because of me.

Brit says nothing for the longest time. The water swirls around me, and the room fills with the scent of sweet lilacs, but after what Brit just told me, the smell does little to calm my nerves.

Water splashes, the sound jolting my already tense muscles.

“Sorry. I had to wash my hair. The next time you die, don’t go into the light. You really should have watched more movies with me, Kate.”

Her sarcasm has played a horrible trick on me. Tears trickle down my face, splashing into the water. “Do you think they’ll really kill—?”

“I won’t think of it; I can’t. But promise me if it comes to that, Kate, you don’t allow it. You are powerful enough to destroy him. Those were your words. Promise me you will if you have to.”

Such an awkward conversation to have while bathing and unable to see each other, but I don’t have to dig inside her head to know how serious she is. “I promise.”

“Thank you.”

We fall silent, and I close my eyes and rest my head against the ledge but cannot relax. Hounds and coscarthas attack children in my mind, children I know—or knew. The serpent’s humid breath full of the pungent smell of death has replaced the lilacs. Arland’s comforting warmth is what I crave. These lies already hurt more than I ever expected. We don’t need to break a Binding Spell to punish us; I’m already burning.

“He doesn’t think he’s good enough for you.”

I bolt upright at the sound of Brit’s voice. “How did you—?”

“I’ve always sensed when you were thinking about him—even before we knew he existed. And I can tell he thinks that by the way he looks at you: always sad.”

“Right. Well I know he thinks that. It’s crazy, though, Brit. The gods practically created us to be together,” I say, relaxing again.

“I’m sorry I taunted you in the communications room. If it makes you feel any better, his hand was sweaty and tense. The only time I think he was comfortable was when he was arguing with Dufaigh.”

My stomach turns in on itself. “I cannot sit in here anymore.” Dunking my head, I rinse the last of the grime from my face and hair, then climb out of the stone enclosure and grab the towel.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” she says.

Wrapping the towel around me, I leave my old clothes in a heap on the floor. I walk out of the washroom and bump right into Arland. He grasps me at my elbows to keep me from falling backward. His warmth floods my body; his eyes mesmerize me.

“I … I—”

The hall is empty and lit only by faint candlelight. There are no windows, no paintings, no carvings like the ones at Watchers Hall. It’s just as dark and gloomy in this hall as the Darkness is outside.