Wilde's Army (13 page)

“
So you can’t feel anything
?”

“
No. It’s like there is no me beyond my thoughts. Isn’t that what it felt like to you
?”

“
I don’t remember. If I felt or thought anything while the shifter took me over, I don’t know about it.”

“Huh. Well, maybe that’s a good thing. Can you tell me what you see, Brit
?”

“
I’d rather you see yourself
.”

“
Me too, but please, just tell me. I need something to hang on to. The only thing I see is black and it’s
. . . .”

“
Okay. We’re near the horses. Arland and Mom are hovering over you. Mom is crying. She swears she didn’t see this coming. I don’t believe her. I want to, but I don’t. Arland is a wreck. Keeps muttering something under his breath about failing you. Perth . . . well, Cadman punched Perth after he made a snide comment to Arland about not doing his job to protect you. Flanna is making food for the kids. They’re in shock from what happened to the real Enid, but even Flanna is having a difficult time maintaining her emotions. Lann is in pretty bad shape. Arland sent Cadman and Ogilvie to dig a hole—
”

“
Wait. A hole? What happened to the real Enid, what happened to Lann
?”

“
She . . . she died. Lann may not live another hour
. . . .”

How poor of shape am I in? “
How did Enid die? And why didn’t you tell me before
?”

“
I’m sorry. I didn’t want to scare you. The tentacles squeezed Enid to death, but I don’t think that will happen to you. The daemon isn’t even alive to hurt you. You’re just stuck. We can save you. I know we can.” Brit rushes out a steady stream of thoughts—she has no confidence.

“
Slow down, Brit. Do Mom and Arland know you’re talking to me
?”

“
Yes. Arland practically begged me to get into your head
.”

Arland
. I may not be able to feel anything, but I know what he must be feeling. “
Did you tell him I’m okay
?”

“
You aren’t okay, Kate. You’re stuck
.”

As if I don’t know this. “
Does he know you’re talking to me
?”

“
No
.”

“
Why not? Go tell him. Now
.”

“
Alright, boss.” Geez, Kate’s not even here and she’s telling me what to do—and I’m listening
.

“
Uhh, Brit, I can hear you
.”

“
Good! Next time say please
.”

I know she’s teasing, but it does little to make this better. “
Brit, please, just go talk to Arland
.”

“
I am. I’m by him now. What do you want me to say
?”

“
Just tell him you’re talking to me
.”

“
Okay. Give me a minute
.”

Silence returns. I wish I could look around, see something, bide my time twisting my hair around my fingers, but I can’t. There are only my thoughts and a paralyzing nothingness.

“
Okay. Instead of hovering over you, now Arland’s hovering over me. His eyes are red—I swear it looks like he’s going to burst into tears. Anyway, he wants to know if you can use magic
.”

“
Tell him I’ve tried, and ask him if he’s tried to cut the bands from me
.”

“
They won’t. They’re afraid you will bleed even worse
.”

“
Even worse than what?” I’m
afraid I don’t want to know the answer.

“
Than you already are
.”

“
Brit
?”

“
Yes, Kate
?”

“
Am I dying
?”

“
No. You aren’t going to die. We are going to free you. You will be fine
.”

My sister’s thoughts drift out of my consciousness, and my own thoughts turn selfish. I’m going to die and never see Arland again. Never experience the joy his lips bring to mine. Never be married. Never … .

“
Kate! Stop that. There has to be a way for you to get inside my head. Maybe you can use the magic through me? I just suggested burning the tentacles from you, but I almost got punched for it by a certain red-head
.”

“
Flanna is with you guys now? Does that mean . . . Lann
?”

“
He’s gone, Kate. Flanna is beside herself, but I think she’s pouring all her sadness into you. She left the children with Shay and Kegan and came down here with food, thinking that would help. Seeing her like this . . . and with Mom and Arland almost as bad over you . . . you need to come out of this. Do you understand
?”

If I wasn’t trapped inside myself, I could have helped Lann. Flanna kept her feelings for him a secret for such a long time, and she’s already lost so many things she loves; this isn’t fair. This whole war isn’t fair. “
Brit. I love you. You are my sister
.”

“
Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye
?”

“
I’m not. Be quiet. I’m thinking, trying to get in your head. I don’t know if it’ll work
.”

“
Okay, quiet. I can do that
.”

“
Brit. We look the same. We were born a year to the day apart. I love her. We’re connected
.” I don’t know if thinking these things will work, but I have to try. Without my powers, everyone is at risk. Already people are dying.

“
Arland is back, Kate. He thinks if we all stand around you holding hands, it will help. I think he sounds desperate, but I’ll do anything for you
.”

“
Why do you not sound desperate, Brit
?” I’m beginning to wonder if this
is
all a dream. My sister is not usually this calm.

“
Because I think if you were going to die—or are dying or whatever—your voice wouldn’t sound so strong. I’m banking on to that
.”

“
Well, what are you waiting for? Go stand around me in a circle
.” This is like what we did for Brad, so maybe it’ll work.

“
Alright, we’re in a circle. I’m about to grab hands with Arland and Mom. Ready
?”

“
As ready as a person without a body or a sense of feeling can be, I guess
.” And it’s not like I have any other options.

“
They want you to speak through me. You give the magic commands, but I’ll say them aloud
.”

“
Wake up. Free me of these bands. Heal my broken body
.”

Silence.

“
I said it. Should I say anything else
?”

“
That’s usually all I say. Do you feel anything, or do you see any sprites
?”

She doesn’t respond.

“
Brit
?”

Nothing. The all-consuming black space around me wins out over my connection with my sister. I’ve either died and am stuck in-between heaven and wherever I’m at, or something’s happened to her.

Rubbing my left hand, I try to get the blood flowing through it.

Wait
. My left hand is tingling.
I have a left hand
! Warmth floods it, rushing up my arm.
My arm
! I could cry. Feelings, they are incredible, and they are everywhere. Feet. My feet are squeezed into tight-fitting boots and are on the ground. My hands are locked with two others.

I’m not myself. I’m inside Brit.

“
Brit. Can you hear me
?” Worry. I
feel
worry for my sister.

“
Yes, I’m here. Don’t be worried about me, Kate, I’m fine
.”

“
I can feel you. I can feel Arland and Mom holding your hands. I can
feel,
Brit
!”

Concentrate. I must concentrate. Both hands I’m holding are moist. One is strong and rough, the other thin and dainty, but both are tense. Focusing on where my eyes should be, I think of what I’ll see when I’m in Brit’s head. My body will be motionless on the ground. It won’t be pretty. I’m bleeding—I cannot allow the blood to scare me.

Light filters in, evaporating the darkness surrounding me. Blurry, yet satisfying, my vision improves. I’m whole, in control; I’m in Brit’s body, but I don’t want to see myself. Turning my head—Brit’s head—I look at Arland. He
has
been crying. Streaks where tears have run through the dirt, line his strong, emotionless face.

“Arland,” I say, which is weird because I sound like Brit.

He doesn’t move. Instead, he stares down at me—the me I refuse to look at right now.

“Arland, I love you. Please, look at me.”

Arland snaps his head toward me. His eyes are big, wet, and full of sadness. “Kate?”

I shrug. “In Brit’s flesh.”

He closes most of the distance between us, but stops short of hugging me. “I never should have left you alone,” Arland says, not meeting my eyes.

Breaking my hold on Mom’s hand, I place my palm on his cheek. “Stop. Don’t blame yourself for this. I’ll be fine. Now”—I look down at my body then squeeze my eyes closed before I scream from the amount of blood pooled on the ground around me—”let’s get these things off me. Okay?”

I look up at Arland; he nods then backs away.

Raising my arms above my head, I focus on the light in my soul, the things I love, and the things I want to kill, all at once. The fire starts out as a flicker but builds and stretches out from the pit of my stomach to the tips of my fingers. Flames burst from Brit’s body then travel into Arland, Mom, Flanna, Cadman, and Perth. When everyone burns, I turn my head toward the sky. “Wake up, Magic! Burn this daemon from my body, and heal the wounds he caused. Heal Flanna’s broken heart. Take the children’s pain away. Restore our peace.”

A small opening in the sky releases red sprites. They descend from above, spiraling around each other like a tornado of magic. The trees, rocks, and ground all glow red from the light of the small beings. A few sprites blanket Flanna while others rush toward the cave. Upon reaching my body, they slice through the bands without driving into the remnants of the daemon, as they do during battles. Instead, my rescue comes slow, methodically. Sprites take turns with each cut they inflict.

My legs are freed first; my exposed skin is raw and swollen. The clothes I wore must have disintegrated. Mom rushes to Cadman and Perth, sending them away with a wave of her hand. I’m about to be naked and ugly, and she knows it.

Trembling racks Brit’s body. I’m doing everything in my power not to turn around and vomit. The only thing keeping me from doing just that is curiosity. Horrified, I watch the sprites move up my waist, uncovering more damaged skin. Bruises, cuts, blood … everywhere. My breath catches.

“
Brit, are you still with me
?”

“
I’m here, Kate . . . this is awful. Do you feel any of it
?”

“
No, but I will be okay. The magic will heal me
.” It has to. No one could live after something like this. I wonder if Brit and Arland would have looked this bad if I’d killed the daemons in the cave before freeing them. As it was, Brit and Arland looked terrible.

The sprites cut off the last bands around my face. My body is freed, but from head to toe I’m as good as dead. Chunks of skin are missing. What’s left is pale, red, or black. My hair is caked with blood and dirt. I look like a monster …
a zombie
.

Arland’s face does nothing to hide his emotion. He’s blank. His mouth open. His hand loosens in mine.

I tug at him. “Arland. I’m alive. I’m right here next to you. My body will be healed.”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.

Taking a knee, I get as close to the red sprites as possible. “Can you heal me? I cannot live with these wounds open, and I need more blood. Please.”

The beings stop and stare at me. One flies right up to my face, transforming from her red flame and showing me her tiny cherub-like cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She shakes her head, blond curls bouncing from side-to-side. The sprite reaches out her pink, glowing finger and touches my nose.

I feel nothing. It’s as though I’m back in the darkest reaches of myself, but this time I can see as the sprite flies down to my body then touches my real nose.

I can’t breathe.

Pain sears through me.

I gasp for air, but the burning on my skin is too much.

Screams build from deep within then erupt from my mouth. They do nothing to mask the pain. Nothing to ease my seizing muscles.

I’ve been lit on fire, and everyone is standing around to watch as I melt. Never have I wanted to be dead, but now death seems the best option.

“Kate.” The voice. I recognize the voice as Arland’s. It’s warm, soothing—it’s full of love, but I cannot respond.

Spasms shoot down my spine. My back arches in protest, lifting from the ground and stealing what little breath I’ve managed to fill my lungs with. The spasm releases its hold. Hands prevent me from falling to the earth, cushioning my head and back, but only add to the sting of my wounds.

Tentacles are inside me. The daemon has not finished his battle. My body fights to regain control over itself. I squirm, cringe … I scream.

I want to give up.

Give in.

Just die.

Here.

Now.

I don’t care anymore.

My voice cracks. I’m cold, yet sweaty. The trembles have all but stopped, and my skin no longer burns like it’s been sliced open by a dull razor. Taking a deep breath, I hold onto it for a long time before I slowly let it out.

“Kate, can you hear me?” Arland’s voice is soft and close to my ear.

I’m afraid to open my eyes. Afraid somehow the pain will return.

“I … I can hear you.” My voice surprises me. It’s hoarse and makes my throat ache.

He pushes hair from my forehead. “The magic has left. Are you still in pain?”

I do a mental check of my body. My head seems fine. My arms, legs, feet—everything wiggles the way it’s supposed to. “How bad do I look?”

Flanna snorts. “Kate, you look like you have just been touched by the gods. Your skin is glowing … unlike some people.”

I’m still afraid to open my eyes, so I rely on Arland, Brit, or Mom for an honest answer.

“Is my skin really glowing?” I ask whoever will respond.