Whisper and Rise (19 page)

“Someone.” I paused to catch another breath. “Lives there.” I stood straight and placed my hands on my hips, hoping that would let the air come faster. “You’ve met him. He tried to chase you up the mountain.”

“The man with the scar?” Darian looked puzzled.

“Yes.”

Reminded of the rage Cael was capable of, I stumbled back toward the cave. If Cael saw Darian, he could certainly catch him. If Darian were caught, then I would be also. We were both at risk if Cael saw us. When I reached the cave, I forgot about the mud and stumbled through it, covering my sandals. I growled and crashed into the gate, leaning against it until sliding to sit in the dirt.

I looked at my feet—they were filthy. Scowling, I lifted my arms and saw what life in hiding had done to me. I was hideously soiled. My crimson dress was black with soot and grime. My legs were dark and foul and the dirt on my hands was darker than the cave. I scratched at the skin on my arms in a vain attempt to claw it clean.

“Are you all right?” Darian leaned on the gate.

I rubbed until my skin turned red. “I’m hideous,” I cried. “Look at me. I’m filthy.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Darian’s laugh mocked me. “A moment ago, you were worried about being caught and murdered. Now, you’re upset because your dress is dirty.”

I flashed a curse at the man and scrambled to my feet. “I’m getting some soap,” I told him. Make a fire.” Without turning to watch his face, I ran from the cave toward my meadow. My meadow—the place where my fantastic dreams had once been destined to come true. Close to the lake was a patch of Ponaria plants. When I reached them, I pulled a few with my filthy hands and tore them from their roots. “Soap.” I stumbled back to the cave, delirious but anxious. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to stop living like an animal. I wanted to be clean.

“Why haven’t you made a fire?” I snapped at Darian, who looked surprised to see me.

“I’m getting it ready.”

I kicked a branch at him. “Will you please make a fire?” I shoved the roots into the kettle and reached toward Darian. “Give me the knife.”

“What are you going to do?” Darian gripped the knife, waving it with uncertainty.

Without another warning, I snatched it from his grasp and returned to the kettle. “Make the fire,” I ordered. “I’m making soap.”

Boiling Ponaria roots was easy. Add a little heat and they soften nicely into a paste. It wasn’t a secret, not like most faerie potions; every woman in Aisling knew how to make it. The trick was scraping off the top, that part was deadly—creamy pink that could kill a man in a week if he tasted it. I was scooping away the extra when Darian leaned over me.
Why did he hover like that?

“Stop it,” I told him, smacking his hand with the wooden spoon I was using. “This stuff can kill you.”

“It smells nice,” he said, refusing to budge. “Is that one of your faerie potions?”

The word crawled up my back and made my neck shiver. “No! This has nothing to do with faeries.” I tossed the pink liquid against the wall of the cave. It sizzled against the moisture that always dripped down. Then I looked at him. He wasn’t menacing. He was handsome—and dirty. I smirked with the thought that I must have looked the same. I hadn’t bathed since before the solstice. “It’s a mixture my mother taught me,” I finally told him, sighing. It felt better to say something than to linger in my annoyance.

“Is she a faerie?”

I shook my head. “There are twenty-seven faeries—always twenty-seven. They’re chosen from the women and girls of Aisling. They represent the life of my village, and protect the health of everyone.” I looked away from him—he was too curious—and examined the kettle for remnants of the pink poison.

“How were you chosen?”

I smiled. This wasn’t the question I was expecting. After the previous night’s tales and tragedies of last season, I expecting him to pry—I wanted him to pry. “It’s a long story,” I answered. I removed the kettle from the fire and placed it on several near stones to cool. “The soap will be ready later. We can wash then.”

Darian brushed off his pants. “What do you want to do? Go back to the village? We can search for the scrolls.”

The moment ended. I was still in hiding, blocked from my home with a man who once was my enemy. I was no closer to redeeming myself than the day the scrolls disappeared. I looked around our pitiful camp.

“We need food,” I said. “Let’s leave this place.”

We spent the afternoon searching for nuts and any fruit I could find. I missed the apple trees that lined the horse meadow near my parent’s home; they had always offered flavorful meals. We didn’t venture close to Aisling again, I was too afraid. Instead, we wandered near the lake, where the woods thickened. It was darker there, which was nice; I had lost my acclimation to the sunlight. Living in a cave was having an effect on me. I felt like I could see better at night, than in the day. The woods felt welcoming. They were cool and ground was covered in a thick layer of soft needles. Walking on them felt like walking on a cloud. They lowered and rose with every step.

We saw many animals, but nothing we could catch, and none of them seemed interested in coming close enough to grab. I missed Taya. Her bow and arrow seemed an easy fix to finding food, though I didn’t know how to use them.

We drank water from the lake, but were careful not to stay long, or risk being seen by the men in boats that continually crossed the water to Owen’s dock. It was summer, and trading had always been better for him when it was warm.

At sunset, we wandered back to our sanctuary. That’s how I had come to see the cave. It kept us safe from everything, dangerous animals, the wind, the rain, and so far—anyone looking for us. It didn’t seem so mysterious anymore. I tried to remember the excitement of my first adventure there, but that feeling never returned. Many memories from Moon Season were fading. I told myself that was a good thing.

Back inside the cave, I grabbed my kettle and a spoon before telling Darian to follow me. Once the sun went down, we’d be safe to spend more time at the lake. The stars were the only light during summer nights, and that wouldn’t be enough to reveal our presence there. Even if someone were close, they’d never see us, I hoped.

The lake water was cold; I had forgotten how much when I removed my sandals and stepped to my waist. It was refreshing, though. My feet hurt at first as I stepped on the gravel, but then I enjoyed the feel as I rubbed my feet over and over the rounded pebbles. I removed my dress and dove headfirst into the lake. My body sighed with thanks.

I swam for a moment before returning to the shore to grab my dress and the soap. Darian sat on the shore, watching the sky.

“Aren't you coming in?” I asked. “The water feels wonderful.”

“I didn’t think you’d do that,” he said, darting me a glance. In the dark, I couldn’t see his face, but I was sure from his voice that he was blushing.

“What?” I scooped a handful of soap from the kettle and rubbed it onto my dress. I lowered it into the water and started scrubbing with a flat stone. “Do you want to get clean, or not?”

The man was shy, which made me smile. Men in Aisling were as rough as porcupines. Perhaps that’s why I was becoming comfortable with Darian. He had never threatened me like I had imagined he would. I found his embarrassment charming.

“Come into the water,” I laughed. “I won’t hurt you.” As he inched toward the lake, I tugged at the cuffs of his clothing. “Take off your pants.”

Darian’s voice came out in a squeak. “What?”

I pulled on his leg. “Do you want clean clothes? Give me your pants, I’ll wash them.”

He didn’t argue, but closed his eyes as he removed his leather shoes—and his pants. Then he tossed me his shirt; the blue was fading, but it still sparkled where the blood hadn’t stained. He dove into the lake to hide under the reflection of the stars.

It wasn’t much, but I did my best to scrub our clothes with the soap I had made. I tossed them onto the shore and then covered myself with the white cream. The smell was fabulous. I could feel the smoke pry from my skin as I rubbed everywhere I could reach. Wanting more, but needing to share, I left the last bits of soap for Darian and dove back into the lake to rinse myself.

“Your turn,” I told him, chasing after him in the shallow water. “You’ll smell like a flower afterward, but it will definitely be an improvement.”

He was still shy, setting himself waist deep in the water and scrubbing from head to toe. I had never seen a man bathe before, and watched every moment while wading. Darian was perfect. His dark muscles covered in soap made me want to swim closer. His hair covered his eyes until he wet it and pulled it back with his fingers, allowing it to hang back toward his shoulders.

My stomach twisted and my breath stopped filling my lungs. I suddenly felt distant and alone. I closed my eyes and turned toward Morgan.

“I’m dressed now,” he told me. “You can turn around.” He stood on the shore, the water dripping from his clothes and his hair sparkled from the stars. He looked taller than a moment ago—and handsome.

The feeling in my stomach returned and my boldness left me. I didn’t want Darian to see me—not like this, unkempt and bedraggled. Something—pride, or something more intimate that I hesitated to name—left me wishing that he could see me like I had once looked when I was a faerie. “Please don’t turn around,” I said, dropping low in the water. “I’ll only be a moment.”

I stumbled on the rocks, twisting into my dress, franticly trying to cover myself before he turned to steal a look. But Darian never did. He watched the stars until I touched his arm.

“That feels nice,” he said, his voice melting me as his fingers caressed mine.

I smiled back. The spinning in my stomach and the tingling in my heart reminded me of innocent days and nights like this so long ago. The feeling was the same. Darian was becoming something more than a friend.

I wanted it to be a dream. I wanted to wake up in my bed and smile at the memory of the night. It couldn’t be like this; it wasn’t meant to be like this. I was walking hand in hand with the man who once was my enemy, loving the feelings that swirled inside of me and gazing at the stars of hope, high above.

The perfection of the night ended abruptly; cruel voices in the forest carried a haunting reminder of the circumstances that had brought us together. The voices were distant and faint, but I could hear them and suspected that Darian hadn’t, yet. I stopped moving and released my grip.

“What is it?” He hadn’t heard.

I pressed a finger to my lips and crouched low. My wet dress clung to me. I twisted, trying to end the discomfort. Somewhere behind the trees, men cursed and stumbled. A faint light from a torch broke the darkness.

When Gwenn whinnied, I knew we’d been discovered. Some of the men shouted while others stomped noisily through the brush toward her. Darian didn’t speak. He didn’t need to say anything. He nudged my shoulder and moved toward the meadow, away from the danger. I followed him, but stopped when we reached the long grass.

“What should we do?” I asked him. My voice shivered, partly from the cold that found me, partly from fear.

“We run.” Darian took another step. “We can’t stay here. They’ve found us.”

“They’ll catch us anyway,” I said, trying to keep the fear from my voice. “We’re wet and tired. How long do you think we’ll last?”

“Longer than if we go toward them,” he answered. “I’m not going back to their prison.”

I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to stay. I couldn’t think; the emotions of the night had stolen my thoughts and swirled them together. “What about the cave? We could go there. Perhaps they haven’t found it.”

“What if they have?”

I didn’t have an answer. “We can find out,” I told him. “I know this forest. It’s my land. I’ve been wandering through the dark since we got here.” I reached out for Darian’s hand. “Those men, whoever they are, can’t find their way as easily. Did you hear them? They’re clumsy. Please come with me. If they haven’t found the cave, we can hide there—like we planned.”

It wasn’t a good plan, but it seemed better than fleeing into the night with nothing to help us. Even if we escaped their hunt, how long would we last after then? How long until they found our cave and supplies? In a couple days, we’d be the scavenging helpless runaways that had escaped from Morgan only days ago.

“Let’s go see,” said Darian. “If they’re at the cave, we’ll come back and climb the mountain.”

I couldn’t disagree. If the men
were
there, we didn’t have much hope of anything. We walked along the hidden trails that I knew so well until the voices of the men were distinct and clear.

“She’s around here, somewhere.” Cael’s voice was unmistakable as he ordered the others. “Find her.”

The men scattered into the dark, but not alone. Three torches meant three groups. The men were tough together but cowards in an unknown forest. I smiled at the thought of one of them losing his way in the trees and calling to the others to save him. These men had kidnapped me, and for them, I had no pity. Tristan’s voice still made me shudder—if he were to find us, the payback from our escape would be cruel and painful.

And Cael. He knew I was here. My good friend was no longer the trusting ally I had hoped could help me. By his voice, he was leading the men, just like the night Ethan and I had been taken. He must have known then.
What had he become?

Gwenn screamed when someone jerked roughly on her harness, stopping my thoughts. Any other place, I would have cried in agony. I couldn’t, not that night. When another man yelled at her to comply, my fears hardened to terror. I recognized the voice. David Dunn. An
Elder
was involved in this, another friend of the family. First Cael, now Mr. Dunn. Father’s suspicions had been correct.

I nudged Darian’s arm and slid under the branch of cover. I didn’t have to tell him, he knew my meaning: we could make it to the cave. We scrambled through the brush and once inside, we quickly went to work. While Darian loosed the dirt with his feet to hide our footprints, I slid behind the gate and grabbed the old broken lock. Keeping the rusted iron from creaking was terror; it squealed once, loud enough to bring a host of trouble. I made tiny motions after that, holding the silence and my breath. We attached the lock. It didn’t work any longer, but that didn’t matter. If someone discovered the cave, that person would see it and think we couldn’t be inside. That was our hastened plan.

In the cavern where we had camped, I stuffed our supplies and food into the large sack my father had left. Darian pulled the stones from our fire and set them quietly in different places along the cave wall. Then he kicked and scattered what glowing ashes remained until, in the darkness, there was no sign that anyone had been living there.

Once our camp was ruined, we crept deeper into the cave. There was no light, but I knew the cave well enough to manage without knocking the walls or bumping my head. Darian took the bag from me and hid it inside a crevice while I knelt by the wall.

The night seemed to last forever. Nothing told us, save our counted breaths, how long we waited. We stood in the dark, shivering, and frightened, waiting to discover our fate.

“You should sleep,” Darian eventually whispered. His voice shook—I didn’t think it was from fear, but from the wet clothes and cold air of the cave. “I’ll watch for a while and wake you when I get tired.”

I shook my head, though I knew he couldn’t see me. “I won’t be able to sleep like this.” I searched the dark with for his hand and gripped it tight. “Can you feel that in my fingers?” I told him. “I’m lucky my heartbeat doesn’t echo. It’s pounding so hard.”

Darian allowed his hand to stay in mine, but crouched lower against the wall. “Come closer,” he said, “I’ll share this blanket with you.”

Together, both of us would be warmer underneath. I had become used to the fire; without it, the cave’s dampness left me chilled. We were risking a fever standing against the cold stone in sodden clothes. I scolded myself for not waiting to wash until the sun was out; although it was doubtful I could have borne my filthiness a moment longer. I leaned into Darian to accept his warmth and tried to think on the pleasant memories from our time at the lake.

Waiting in the dark, hoping the men wouldn’t find us, overwhelmed any comfort I felt in Darian’s arms. It was terrifying and noisy. Shouts from the forest found their way inside the cave and bounced off the walls as ominous warnings. The men were angry; their curses announced they didn’t want to spend their night searching the woods. That didn’t help us. I feared them more because of their complaints.

I listened for a while, but soon lost their words as slumber began to take hold of my senses. My mind was drifting when the first man entered the cave; his voice startled me so much that I screamed into Darian’s hand.

“There’s only one,” Darian whispered, soothing me with his breath. “We’ll be all right.”

The man who discovered my cave was clumsy and unwitting. More than once, he bumped into a wall, or a ceiling, and cursed the stone for its intrusion. He fell down each time—the man was probably drunk—and hollered so loud that his echo made tiny drops of water shower down upon us.

“Someone get me a torch!” His words slurred into one another. “I found something.”

We were fortunate he didn’t know what he had discovered.

“Haniber? Haniber! Get in here and bring some light.”

Haniber must have joined him because, soon after, the iron gate creaked and moaned. Someone shook it violently, scraping the air with rusty steel that wouldn’t budge.

“There’s a lock on the door, Loman. Nothing’s there.”

“Locks have secrets.”

The gate shook again. Something struck the wall—something iron.

“This lock is worthless.”

The gate creaked as it opened. The man’s voice grew louder. “Come on. Let’s find ourselves a secret.” He coughed again.

“I’m not going in there,” said Haniber, his voice distant. “The gate was locked. Whatever’s in there is dead or rusted.”

“Get in here or I’ll hit you.”

Darian freed his arm from around my waist.

“The knife?” I whispered.

“Get ready to run,” he answered. “We’ll make a stand past the trap.”

That had always been the plan; a plan I never wanted to follow. Thinking about it before meant accepting that this night might happen. The night was happening now. Haniber’s next words sent a chill down my back.

“We still have the faerie sister,” he said. “She’ll tell us where she’s hiding.” He laughed. “Even if she doesn’t want to.”

Darian must have sensed my tension because he covered my mouth and kept me from yelling back at them.

They had Leila? How?
The ice that had consumed me vanished and a void replaced it. Leila had nothing to do with what had happened.
What had I done?

Both men laughed at their own words.
Did they know I was there? Were they mocking me to get me to reveal myself?
“Dunn will take care of that,” said Loman. “We have the horse as proof that the family knows where she is. They’ll pay for that.

“We should kill the beast in front of them,” said Haniber, “while we torture the little one.”

“I won’t waste the meat on them. There’s plenty to trade and eat ourselves.”

I wanted to vomit. Listening to both men talk, capture seemed an easy end to the nightmare. I feared the worst, death even, but my sacrifice would certainly be a relief for the pain they planned to inflict on my family—or already had. Darian held me tighter, but I couldn’t tell why. Was it to keep me from screaming back at the men, or to comfort me?

Distant yells interrupted the men’s hateful conference. Haniber yelled back to them—using words I didn’t understand.

“Forget them,” said Loman. There was spite in his tone. “If there’s treasure here, we can split it—between you and me. Let them wander the forest if they want.”

“Tristan was shot with an arrow!” A new voice entered the cave.

“That idiot, Cameron shot his friend.” Loman kept the spite in his tone.

“Go on back,” yelled Haniber. “We’re gonna check this cave.”

“Cael wants everyone back at the dock ‘till we sort this out.”

Hearing the men leave and the gate slam shut didn’t calm me. I was terrified. Emotion took over and I cried. I didn’t care how loud my sobbing was, and despite Darian’s efforts to calm me, I refused to stop bawling. “Let them come,” I cried. “It’s not worth it. I won’t let them hurt my family.” I shied away from Darian’s hand and leaned against the cave wall.

“I won’t leave you here.” Darian whispered so soft I could barely understand. “I’m staying with you. I won’t leave you.”

“They’re going to hurt my family.” I pounded the stone. I was supposed to be strong, but I couldn’t, not facing the danger to my family. “They didn’t do anything. It was me. It was me!”

I couldn’t see him, but imagined that Darian was staring at me in disbelief. I crouched in a ball and closed my eyes until the tears stopped burning.