Wilde's Army (2 page)

“If I had any remaining doubts about your identity, your control over old magic just made them all wash away,” Perth says, with child-like eyes.

“Did you see where the others were taken?”

“I followed them to a cave three miles north of here. I am not sure if they entered, but with only a knife for protection, it was too far for me to continue on alone.”

“Are the animals—?”

“Daemons have no use for our animals; they are fine.”

“Good, then let’s ride out to the cave and check it out. If they aren’t there, we’ll come back. If they are, we’ll fight.”

“You want to ride straight into a trap?” Perth crosses his arms over his chest, looking at me like I’m an idiot. “The daemons will expect retaliation. We need to track them, gather information, and attack when the time is right.”

“Well, we can’t stay here. We have to get to them soon, or the daemons will kill them!” A lump forms in my throat. I have to save the others before it’s too late; if a single life is lost, it will be too much for me to handle.

“You are correct. We cannot stay here.” Perth tips his head toward the hall. “It appears someone hid your room, which tells me
someone
believes whoever called for the attack knows who you are. The daemons know you are here; they will wait for you. They might be mounting another attack as we speak. We should move to Willow Falls. There will be other soldiers who can help us. We can use the chatter box in the communications room to send word we are coming.”

It’s apparent Perth wants me to abandon the idea of finding the soldiers. He’s never seen me fight; he has no idea what I’m capable of. Until my conversation with the sun god,
I
had no idea what I’m capable of.

“We don’t need to bring any other soldiers into this. I can handle the daemons that took the others. We’ll send word to Willow Falls about their capture, and we’ll let the Leaders know as soon as we rescue everyone, we’ll go there.” I had no trouble fighting off hundreds of coscarthas and hounds in the forest, and that was before I knew much about myself.

“It will be a suicide mission.”

It’s also apparent Perth has no faith in me.

“Are you going to come with me, or am I going alone?”

“What kind of man would I be if I allowed a woman to go into a battle on her own?” He places his cold hand over the back of mine. “Especially one who belongs to me.”

I jerk my hand free. “Thank you, but I don’t belong to you.”

“Try telling my father that.” Clasping his fingers on
his
side of the table, Perth laughs. “And do not thank me. We are both going to die. So, do you know how to use the chatter box?”

“No.”

“Neither do I. You should try to use the magic you have been blessed with,” Perth says, heavy on the sarcasm.

Grabbing my sword, I point it toward the kitchen. “Lead the way.”

Walking through the dark, empty base is unnerving. Even when I’ve been alone here, the place never had the lifeless feeling it holds now. With each heavy step, the sounds of the soles of my leather boots connecting with the dry earth pound in my ears. Every shaky breath I release hints at my unease. I have to be strong for those I love; otherwise, I’m not sure I could handle putting another foot forward.

Signs of a struggle are all throughout the dining room and kitchen. Tables are knocked over, chairs lie on their sides, and dishes are broken and scattered all around the floor. Light from the candle I carry illuminates trails of blood. My heart skids to a stop and so do my feet.

I gasp.

“What is it?” Perth asks.

“B-blood.” I point to the line of blood on the floor, trembling as I walk along the stains with Perth behind me. The trail leads up the stairs.

“Someone was injured,” he says, his voice void of emotion.

Swallowing hard, I raise the candle to see his face. “I understand that, but who?” The question leaves me breathless. Intuition numbs my limbs, telling me the stain is from Arland.

Perth steps over the line of crimson then takes hold of my elbow. “It does not matter. We must keep moving.”

It may not matter to Perth, but it does to me. This war has already consumed two people I love: my father and my best friend Brad. At least he’s been promised a second chance at life, if I succeed, but no one else shares that same opportunity. With suppressed apprehension, I keep moving.

We enter the communications room. The table is broken in half and the chatter box lies on the floor, buzzing with static. I pass the candle to Perth then rush to the corner, pick up the strange device, and tap it. I don’t know why; a natural reaction maybe—like when a security camera flickers out and a guard taps the monitor.

The rectangular box is about a foot long. It’s made of wood and has little holes cut out in a circular pattern. The box still reminds me of an old radio, but there are no wires attached, and I don’t see a speaker inside.

“If we talk to each other telepathically, what’s the point of this thing?” I look back to Perth.

He eyes the contraption in my hands. “From what I understand, the chatter box creates order to how messages are sent and received, but I do not know how to use it any more than you do.”

When Arland took me on tour of the base, he told me connecting mentally through the chatter box requires a lot of concentration. Instead of questioning what the purpose of the thing is, I might as well get started. I sit on the floor, cross my legs over each other, then place the thing in front of me.

Perth walks up beside me. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m concentrating.”

I have no idea what I’m doing, but Perth doesn’t need to know this. Closing my eyes, I think about the little wooden rectangle by my legs and about where I need a message to go. Weeping willow trees pop into my mind, as well as waterfalls. No one has ever described Willow Falls to me, but when I hear the name, those are the two things I relate the place to.

I imagine a telephone wire linking Watchers Hall to Willow Falls, imagine I’m in that wire, running along the fifty miles between the two bases. Tingles replace the connection I have to my arms and legs, then everything goes numb. I open my eyes and look down at myself … I’m floating outside my body.

“This is so amazing!”

Perth doesn’t respond. He’s watching the stationary me. He cannot see the floating me … or at least he doesn’t look at the version of me hovering in the room.

The only thing to do now is figure out how to get my apparition from here to Willow Falls. I look at the box and study the small, round holes cut into the red wood.
The holes
. I swim through the air, reach out, then place my hand over the openings. The device sucks me in and sends me hurtling through a vast, dark space so fast my stomach rises to my throat.

“Willow Falls, Willow Falls, Willow Falls.” I repeat where I want to go because I’m not sure how else to get there.

I’m surrounded by complete and utter darkness. Chills creep up my arms. I hold out my hands at my sides, but no longer feel like I’m moving. The air is stagnant … my head crashes into a wall, leaving me with an instant, throbbing headache.

I rub the knot above my eye and swim closer to a dim light filtering in on me through the inside of what appears to be another chatter box. My skin is polka-dotted with about twenty faint-white spots. I reach my hand to the holes but cannot pass through.

“Hello?” I have no idea if there’s chatter box protocol or not, but hello seems universal enough.

Someone passes by. Muffled voices come from inside the room, but I cannot make out anything being said.

I bang on the space next to the holes.

“Hello?” I draw the word out longer this time.

A mouth appears in front of me.

“State your name and location,” a man’s voice booms.

“Kate. Watchers Hall.”

“Kate? Watchers Hall? I am sorry, but I do not know who you are,” says the big mouth.

“It doesn’t matter who I am; we’ve been attacked. I need to speak to whoever is in charge. Immediately.”

“Drustan, notify High Leader Maher. He will want to speak to this woman. She says Arland’s base has been attacked.”

“Yes, sir. I will return with him shortly.”

Hinges squeak as, I presume, Drustan exits the room.

Arland’s father is here? I thought he was at Wickward. Butterflies swarm in my stomach, and I rub my palms together. I’m about to meet him without Arland’s calming presence. What will his dad think of me? What if he doesn’t like me? What if I can’t make
my
father’s friend proud?

“Oscailte,” says the man, waving his palm over the chatter box.

I reach my hand to the opening again, but this time I pass through and am deposited in full apparition form into a room much like the one I just left.

“Who are you, and what happened?” The brown-haired man stands with his strong arms folded over his chest. The middle of his forehead presses together, and he narrows his blue eyes.

“My name is–”

“Leave us.” A commanding voice reverberates from behind me.

I turn around. The man standing in the doorway, watching as the others rush out of the room, makes my heart ache. Arland is the spitting image of his father—minus the wrinkles around his eyes and the gray hair. Holding back the tears drains the strength out of me. Arland and I have only been apart for a short time, but there’s no telling what condition he’s in, or if we’ll ever see each other again.

High Leader Maher closes the door after the last of the soldiers exit. “Katriona, it is nice to finally meet you. You must have questions, but there is not enough time. Who has been taken?”

He’s right. I have
a lot
of questions, but most of them will have to be saved for another meeting. “Everyone besides me and Perth Dufaigh.”

His face drains of color. “Is Perth aware of your identity?”

“Yes. He’s just said he’s known the entire time, but I don’t think he is as bad as the other Ground Dwellers.”

Leader Maher looks beyond me and rubs his chin between his thumb and index finger—another trait he shares with Arland. “Katriona, do not be fooled. Ground Dwellers are all bad. It is unfortunate, but you are going to have to stay with him. Use him if you must, but do not believe anything he says.”

Of course Leader Maher thinks they’re all bad. Perth said if any of his people knew how he felt, they would kill him. He’s had to lie to everyone his entire life. I feel a sudden need to defend Perth. He could have left me here to rot by myself, but he didn’t. That has to amount to something good in him.

“We are going to rescue the others. Perth wanted to come to Willow Falls for help, but I don’t need it. He saw where the daemons took the others. We are going to check it out and possibly attack.”

Leader Maher’s eyes return to the present, and he gives me an approving stare. “I am happy to see how confident you are with your abilities. The last time I spoke with Arland, he informed me you were still unsure of yourself. Much has changed, no?”

I nod. Much
has
changed. I was visited by two gods, given information about myself and the war which has plagued this world for twenty years, had my best friend murdered in front of me, and my family and the love of my life were ripped away.

“You must not trust Perth, Katriona. I am sure he
did
want you to come here with him. His father is here. With the others captured—possibly dead—he would not have to worry about Arland standing in his way. He could have you for himself and take his position as Second Leader over his people—he needs a wife before that can happen. Given the family’s reputation, I fear they may be up to something even bigger. Save the others, bring them here. When you arrive, keep your distance from Arland. You must protect him. I know it is intended to be the other way around, but if you want this to end well for the both of you—and I am positive you do—you must adhere to my advice. Do you understand?” His intensity is almost threatening. I’m sure if Leader Maher could touch me, he’d be shaking my shoulders right now.

“I-I do.” I’m not certain who to trust anymore. Is Perth bad or not? Are Leader Maher’s fears founded? Why couldn’t Griandor have been more specific?

There’s a tugging sensation at my apparition. My muscles burn as if I’ve been lifting weights too heavy for me. Staying in this room becomes more difficult by the second. I need to tell Leader Maher the rest, fast. “I need an army.”

He squints. “We have an army.”

“No, sir,
I
need an army,” I say, pressing my palm over my heart; it’s well over its maximum beat per minute range. I’m stepping on some major toes right now; any second, I’m sure I’ll hyperventilate.

“I need men and women willing to fight and follow
my
orders.”

“May I ask what for?” he asks with a hint of amusement.

I sigh. “To fight a war against a god.”

He moves in closer to me. The ferocity in his green eyes is overwhelming.

My breath catches in my chest—I know how he became High Leader; no one could question the authority in his stature.

“What information do you have?”

“There is no time. We will speak more when I arrive with the others—assuming they’re okay. Will you form an army for me?” My hands begin to dissolve and float toward the box.

“It will not be an easy task to convince people to fight. We have lost many lives already, but I will try. Many Leaders are gathered here to discuss our current situation. I will speak with them; however, I fear you will need to do most of the work yourself.”

“Why?” I ask as all of my body dematerializes.

The chatter box sucks at the particles of my broken apparition.

“You will understand—”

I cannot hear the rest of his answer; I’m zipping through the black space just as before.

“Watchers Hall, Watchers Hall, Watchers Hall.”

My head doesn’t slam into a wooden wall like it did before. I fly straight through the holes and into my body. Feeling returns to my limbs. I wiggle my fingers and toes and open my eyes.

“Give up?” Perth asks.

I startle and look up at him. “Give up? I’ve been gone for at least ten minutes.”