Whisper and Rise (14 page)

“Where are the scrolls?” I demanded. My question exposed what I sought. In front of me, sat the person who could offer vindication for all I had suffered. I wanted the Fae Scrolls. With them, I could solve my trouble. With them, I would be something once again in the village. “Where did you hide them?”

Darian chuckled and closed his eyes. I didn’t expect his brazen response, so I slid back and away from him. As I did, he tossed the leaf from his arm into the fire. I aimed my eyes at him while he grabbed another leaf and covered his wound.

“Did you hear my question?” I demanded.

He nodded. “I heard you.” He looked straight at me, unwavering. “I don’t know anything about scrolls,” he said. “I’m sorry they’re missing, but I didn’t take them.” He lowered his head. “It’s the only question any of those men asked me. I didn’t realize you were one of
them
.”

“One of them!” I scrambled to my feet. “Didn’t you listen to what I told my brother? Don’t you care about what happened to Sean? He’s dead because of you!” I kicked the basket of water over and ran to the cave entrance. I rushed back toward him, pointing with the anger that I knew and hated. “I could kill you now,” I told him, “or even better, I could let you die. You don’t deserve to live, but I’m helping you. Stop playing games and tell me where the scrolls are.”

Darian shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He wiped his brow and looked up at me. “Who is Sean?”

I don’t know how long I had stopped breathing, but when I started again, it felt like I couldn’t gasp enough air. I dropped to the ground and heaved large breaths.
How could he not know?
The tears returned and, this time, I didn’t stop them. My mouth was dry and my eyes were draining. Smoke from the fire must have drifted toward me, because every part of my face burned. I still couldn’t breathe. I struggled to live, while the life that should have ended watched my agony. I didn’t look up, but I knew he was staring; I could feel his awful lies swirling around my head.

I opened my eyes. Darian had turned and moved closer to the fire. He had also collected the andelin leaves and had piled them near him. A puff of white smoke rose from the fire before he spoke to me.

“I think I figured it out,” he said. He turned to me. “I know why everyone hates me.”

At least one of us was thinking clear.

“If I’m the enemy, what did those men want with you?”

“I don’t know,” I snapped.

“Why did they call you faerie?”

I lowered my head. “They don’t know.” When he didn’t speak, I glanced at him. His eyes revealed his question. “I was removed from the Fae,” I told him, upset at myself for exposing so much. “I’m not a faerie anymore. I did awful things—to save Sean. I took the scrolls to pay his ransom. After you stole them, I—” I paused to think about how to say me next words. “—I hurt you.”

“You kicked me.”

“I did more than that,” I retorted. “I hit you and beat you. You were screaming.” I was challenging his version of the most dangerous event of my life, because a dam had broken in me, and all my losses and sorrows overflowed. I had to know the truth, and this man was the only person who could tell me what really happened. “Those things cost me everything I loved.” I snatched the leaf from Darian’s arm.

“I know how you feel.” Darian grabbed my hand with his good one and held my fingers in his.

I tried to wrestle them free, but his grip was stronger than I expected.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. He set my hand on my gown and replaced the leaf I had taken with a new one, pressing it harder against his arm than before. “I never took any scrolls.” Darian released a long, deep sigh. “If I could help you find them, would you forgive me?”

My breath failed me. Everything I thought I knew was turned upside down in the space of a few words. For so long, I had been convinced that Darian was the cause of all my pain. Surely, he would say anything to protect himself. But when I searched his eyes, I could find no hint of provocation. When I tried to answer, all I could mutter was yes, though it sounded like a hoarse growl. “Yes,” I repeated, clearer this time. “But why would you help me?”

Darian nodded and rubbed his arm. “Because you don’t deserve the loneliness I can see in your eyes.”

His revelation created more questions in my mind. “You’re the bandit,” I said. “You’ve been stealing from our village. If you didn’t take the scrolls, then who did?”

“I’m not a criminal.” Darian’s voice was low. It called me to lean closer. Then another cough reminded me that he was still close to dying. “I’m not supposed to be here, but I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But I saw you running toward Stone Meadow.” The memory of my fleeting encounter made me cringe. I saw his shadow and heard the arrow as it buried itself into the tree, missing him. I remembered Cameron’s angry voice and the others who followed. “Men have been trying to capture you for a long while. You’re the enemy.”

Darian nodded and shifted while he sat. I saw him wince, but he made no sound to reveal what pain he felt. “I’m not wanted in this place, I understand that.” Again, his voice lowered. “I don’t want to be here.”

“Then, why didn’t you go? You could have left before the season. There was no need for any trouble.”

“I couldn’t leave,” he said, shaking his head. “I was trapped.”

His words confused me. “No one forced you to stay in Aisling. It wasn’t until you caused trouble that we chased you and captured you. You could have left before then.” I glared at him and paused. “You could leave now.”

He removed the leaf on his arm and tossed it at the fire. I watched it flare and smoke, then turned back to look at him. Darian’s eyes were solid and bold. Suddenly, the wonderful voice I had once known returned.

“I need a key to return home,” he told me. He cupped his hands and held them together. “It’s a green crystal. An emerald the size of an egg.”

I gasped, suspecting what I should have realized. “The emerald.” My thoughts echoed off the walls as I remembered the night Nia had showed me the mysterious crystal she had found in the forest. I thought of the little man in DarMattey, Oscar. I covered my mouth with my hands and leaned closer to Darian. “You need the emerald?”

As Darian nodded, a shadow blocked the light from the forest behind us. Someone else had entered the cave.

Father’s voice shattered the peace. “You’re alive!”

I jumped, startled at his arrival. “Father, you frightened me.”

When I moved, my father saw Darian. He dropped the burlap sack he carried and ran toward us, yelling. “You!” He met Darian with a large fist that knocked him lower to the dirt. “What have you done?”

“No, Father.” I leapt in front of his next blow. “Stop.” I was crying as I yelled and the strike from my father’s hand knocked me into Darian.

Darian scrambled from under me and backed against the cave wall. Father knelt beside me and offered his hand, the same one that struck me. He hadn’t intended to strike me, but my anger at his bluster hadn’t burned itself out yet.

“Rhiannon, I’m sorry.” My father glared at Darian and returned to the sack he had left at the entrance. He retrieved it and dropped it next to the fire. Silently, he produced a small kettle, a knife, a wool blanket, a container of cider, some apples, and a long loaf of bread.

I leaned closer when I saw the bread. My stomach longed for food.

“I brought you some things. It isn’t much. We salvaged a few supplies from the ashes.” He dug deep and made a line with the precious things in front of our small fire until the sack was empty. Then he folded the sack into a square and sat down. He grabbed one of the branches I had collected and snapped it into bits, tossing them absently into the flames.

“Thank you.” I managed to say, choking on the words. My father’s temper often flared, but it could never make me doubt his love. From his dejected air, I could tell he was upset at his outburst. I rubbed my shoulder and slid closer to him. “I’ll be okay.”

Father’s arm trembled as he reached around me. When I didn’t move away, he pulled me toward him and offered his warmth. The tobacco smell on his clothes was familiar and inviting. I sighed, inhaling as much memory of good days past as my breath allowed. Then I looked at his eyes. They were red and moist.

“Did Ethan tell you what happened to us?” I asked. I glanced at Darian, who sat against the opposite wall of the cave.

Father mumbled his reply. “He found us. He’s all right, you know.”

I knew what he was waiting for. “And Mother?” I asked. “Leila? Are they all right?”

Another mumble. The deep rumble of his chest was soothing. I felt like a young child in his arms. He was so warm and protecting, I didn’t want to leave his grasp. I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my dress and sat there, cradled in my father’s arms, staring across the dancing flames at the dark face watching us from the other side. A branch crackled and snapped, sending cinders into the air.

“Has he been trouble to you?” asked Father. His words came out slowly, as if he was holding something back.

I shook my head. “No. He helped us escape.” I smiled at Darian before looking up at my Father. “How is the village? What news do you have?”

When he squeezed me tighter, I knew the word wouldn’t be good. “There’s fear and ash everywhere. Dylia is dead.”

I cried when I heard her name. The oldest of the faeries, Dylia had always been so kind, so perfect. Her arms had always been full of angel vine flowers that she shared freely with anyone. Of all the faeries, she was the most elegant dancer. The Fae were now twenty-six.

Father held me for a while then shifted away from me. He grabbed an apple and set it in my hands. “Here,” he said, “you should eat. You look thin and weak.”

I dropped the apple. “Not that,” I told him. I didn’t think he would understand about the apples, so I didn’t try telling him why. Just the look of them reminded me of the foul taste of Morgan. “Give me the bread and the cider.”

I drank first; the sweet flow of heaven consumed me; no drink had ever filled me with such goodness. When the first sip was finished, I allowed the flavor to linger on my tongue before dipping the spout again. I offered the glass jug to Darian. “You need this,” I said, “more than I.”

Darian’s eyes widened—I understood his apprehension—while he slowly knelt forward.

“It’s okay,” I told him. I squeezed Father’s waist. “My father won’t hurt you.”

Father was tense, but didn’t move. He watched Darian with caution as he stepped forward and took the jug. Darian chose a place near enough to reach, but far enough to scramble away, if needed. I smiled at his gesture; both he and my father shared the same distrust for one another. Distrust that I understood.

We were an awkward trio, cautious and unsure of each other. Like thorns and roses, we belonged in the same space, each serving our own purposes.

I grabbed the bread and tore it in two pieces. I held tight to one and handed the larger morsel to Darian. He was absorbing the cider—the curl on his lips revealed that he liked it—and held to the jar with both hands. With a loud sigh of acceptance, he lowered the jar and took the bread.

“Thank you,” he said, wiping his mouth. He tore a bite with his teeth as I did the same.

There was no need for manners in this drafty wet cave, but Darian tried to be polite.

“Eleven homes were lost to the flames,” my father told us, “including ours. We’re staying in the barn, for now.”

“Who started the fires, Father?” I leaned closer. “Has that been discovered?”

Father shook his head. “Most people blame Morgan.” He nodded toward Darian. “Some blame you.” Then he took a long breath. “Everyone wants revenge.”

For a moment, the crackle of the fire was the only sound in the cave. No one spoke, and all of us remained collected in our thoughts. Revenge. My entire life, I had been taught to fear the men from Morgan. Only this morning, I had been there. It wasn’t the men of Morgan I feared, it was the men of Aisling who had taken me captive. If revenge was brewing in the heart of Aisling, then war wasn’t far off.

Father finally spoke again. “We thought the worst of it was over, but yesterday a messenger discovered one of the faeries had died.”

“Dylia.” I choked on my breath.

The march to Evermore is tomorrow.” Father looked up. His eyes had a meaning that demanded I attend the ceremony.

“I won’t go.” I wiped tears from my face. “I want to, I need to, but I’m in danger in the village.”

Father released his warmth and moved away from me. “Your game is over, Rhiannon,” he said, voicing his authority. “You didn’t find your horse. Come home and resume living.”

“I think someone in Aisling is trying to kill me. Cameron Barry shot arrows at us. Tristan Olds was our guard. Why would those men be in Morgan? Why would someone take us there?”

Father’s quick glance of terror toward the cave opening told me that I had upset the balance of our safety. He crouched low again and shook his head. “Don’t speak like that again,” he warned. “There’s danger in those words, and more than to you.”

“Of course, there’s danger,” I replied. “Don’t you know what I’ve been through the last few days?” I glanced at Darian. “What
we’ve
been through?”

Father’s face didn’t change. “You’re not the only one in the village with an axe over her head, child. Haven’t you been listening? Someone died.”

I didn’t like arguing with Father, but I needed him to know what I felt. I wasn’t sure who was responsible for my kidnapping, but I knew he could help me, if he would listen. I decided to let him speak. “Then, tell us—what danger is there? What’s happening?”

Father shook his head. “Not in front of the bandit.” He pointed at Darian. “I don’t trust you.”

Darian lowered his head. “I’ll leave.”

“No!” I grabbed the remaining Andelin leaves and shoved them toward Darian. “You need to heal. Stay here.” I turned to Father and grabbed one of his hands. “We’ll go for a walk. I’ll show you my land.”

Father’s surprised expression was exactly the response I was looking for to break the stiffness of the moment. As we left the cave and entered the forest, I heard Darian shuffling behind us. I didn’t look back to watch what he was doing.

“Your land?” Father finally asked the question I had been expecting.

I released his hand and spun in a circle. “This is where Sean and I had planned to live,” I told him, waving my arms as if circling the trees. “I bought it from Earl.” I chuckled at the surprised look my father offered. “Come on, there’s something I want to show you.”

While we cut through the underbrush, I told him about my visit at the Bauer well. Then I shared the details of my adventures at DarMattey. Hearing my own voice tell the story, made me realize how childish I had acted then. In comparison to the nightmare I had endured in Morgan, DarMattey seemed like a vacation. Still, I kept talking. I described my flight from the town. I told him how I had forgotten the satchel with the deed. I explained that Madeline had kept it and it was safely at her home, I still hoped. When we arrived at the meadow, I ran to the top of the small hill and called to the wind.

“This is where I belong,” I chanted. “I’m in fate’s palace.” I closed my eyes and spun some more, imagining all the good things in life that could happen here. I missed Sean, and saw him in my mind, but at that moment, I knew I could be happy anyway. After all, I had survived a kidnapping. When I stopped my trance, I opened my eyes—I felt dizzy—and looked at Father; his face hadn’t changed.

“I wish you good fortune,” he said. His voice sounded sincere, but bore a sense of warning.

“What, Father?” I demanded. “What is wrong with being happy? After all I’ve lived through, aren’t I allowed the fortune of peace? Don’t I get to smile—sometime?”

Father held out his arms to beckon me.

I drifted close and accepted his embrace. “This was where we were going to live,” I told him. My eyes grew misty. “In this meadow, I was going to be happy forever.”

“We were all meant to be happy, but something has changed.”

I felt my father’s chest tremble and looked at his eyes.

“I can’t protect you here,” he said quietly. “No one can.”

I swallowed my guilt. “I know.”

“Then come home with me. Your mother misses you. Leila cries at night. And people in the village question where you’ve gone. You belong in the heart of Aisling.”

“I miss you, too,” I said. “Why does the village care about me now? Why didn’t they care when Sean was missing? Why am I the only one who does anything?”

“We acted.” Father’s voice was low. “The honest way.”

I stepped away, understanding his meaning. “So, that’s it—the scrolls? I’m supposed to go back and live as the example of misfortune?” I started yelling. I felt a rush of anger rising to my cheeks. In my younger, carefree days, I had always pictured myself as calm and serene. But numerous times since Moon Season, I had come to realize that I was more like my father than I knew, especially in how my sense of injustice became so quickly inflamed. “I’m to live in the shadows of the Fae, so that everyone in Aisling can point at me and tell their children, ‘that’s what happens when you don’t obey?’” I shook my head. “That isn’t a fate that I desire. It’s mocking justice.”

Father stood firm. I had expected him to yell back an insult, but he stood there, watching me. After a passing breeze that carried the scent of wildflower, he spoke again.

“I don’t know what part of our fates you feel responsible for,” he said,” but war is coming. It’s closer than I’ve ever seen. Morgan is stronger than Aisling and soon the peace you’ve grown up with will melt into the fires of the solstice.” He took my hand and led me toward the lake. “You suspect there’s someone in the village that can’t be trusted.” He whispered as we walked. “Don’t speak of them to anyone. Ethan told me who he saw the night you were taken. He told me about Tristan and Cameron. If they are a part of the fires, then Cael Bauer might be involved.” Father paused. “Owen Dorsey might be.”

“Owen? That doesn’t make sense. Owen is Nia’s father. He’s an Elder.”

“That’s why I won’t say it again,” said my father. “His words have equal say as mine. If this trouble leads to war, and I’m wrong, then I could be marked as a traitor. Our family would be in danger.”

“I’m afraid of war,” I told him. “But if I don’t find the scrolls, I’ll forever be the traitor you fear to become. If I don’t do this, and peace returns, what is there to worship? What are we protecting? Memories will weaken, and all that the Fae have ever been—all that I ever was—will fade to legend.” I squeezed my father’s hand. “Darian promised to help me find the scrolls.” I continued before Father could react. “I don’t think he took them from Cael.”

“Rhiannon—”

I took a larger breath of courage and interrupted. “So, we intend to find out who did. In return for his help, I’m going to help Darian.”

Father shook his head, telling me that I hadn’t convinced him that I was doing the right thing.

“You told me once that there’s more to this than we could understand. I know what you meant, now. You were right. Men from Aisling held me captive, Father. Aisling. I don’t know why, or who’s leading them, but someone in the village wants me dead.” I stared at my father and offered my honesty with a straight gaze. “And you want me to return to that?”

We stood on the lakeshore and quietly watched the shadows lengthen. When the pause of night began—the silence before the night creatures’ reign, Father broke its tranquility.