Wilde's Army (39 page)

“This is something I wished to share with Lann one day. Cherish it. Not everyone has these opportunities, but you and Arland deserve it more than most,” she whispers next to my ear.

For a moment, I will every good feeling inside me to go into her and fill her with peace and love. “I love you, Flanna. You are the best Confidant a girl could have.”

We break our embrace, tears streaking our cheeks, then I turn to Mom. “Ready?”

She takes my hand in hers. “Yes. We should go before time runs out.”

I wave good-bye to the others. Brit blows me a kiss, then Mom leads me up the stairs toward the great hall. She holds her head high and walks without trepidation. Me on the other hand, my feet seem too large; I keep tripping over them. My knees are weak and buckle every few steps.

“Relax, Katriona,” Mom says without looking at me.

Thankfully no one else is around to see my ridiculous display of nerves, and even if they were, they’d think my behavior was over Perth and not Arland. “Sorry. I’m nervous and scared.”

“What are you afraid of, Katriona? Perth will make a wonderful husband. He loves you as much, if not more, than your father ever loved me.”

Somehow I get the feeling we’re being watched, and Mom is
not
talking about Perth. “Yes, I know he does, Mom. Our relationship has just moved all so fast, but he has shown me kindness unmatched by any other.” Talking like this for these people makes me want to gag, and I’m also
not
talking about Perth.

She spares a glance at me then looks over my shoulder. I follow her gaze to Leader Dufaigh. He sits at a table in the far corner of the room, waving his hands in conversation with High Leader Maher.

They stop talking, tip their head, then return to whatever it is that’s so important—which is probably something vain or self-serving for Dufaigh and something weak for Maher.

Mom wraps her arm around my shoulders, sweeping me through the rest of the great room. We enter the small foyer-like area then climb the last set of stairs leading to the exit; each step fills my chest with burning exhilaration.

I picture Arland waiting for me in his white tunic, brown leather pants and boots, green eyes blazing in the night. I cannot wait to kiss his soft lips, stare at his slightly crooked nose, hold his strong face in my hands.

Reaching the top step, Mom pulls the invisible gown from her belt, whispers
nochtann
then places the dress in my hands. “You will have to put this on outside the door.”

I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up her hand before I even utter a word.

“Do not worry, Kate, no one will see you. Arland, Flanna, and many of the others have cast concealment spells over much of the base. These Draíochtans have forgotten how to use and notice even some of the most simplistic of magic.” She shakes her head. “It saddens me to see my home this way, but their ignorance aids us now.”

Leader Maher’s lackadaisical ways infuriate me beyond belief. Dughbal was able to enter Encardia because Draíochtans stopped practicing old magic. What does Leader Maher think will happen if
all
magic disappears? “Why would Arland’s father allow this to happen? Why isn’t he stronger like his son?”

“Do you honestly believe High Leader Maher is so foolish?”

“I’m surprised he’s allowed
this
to happen, Mom. He caves to everything Dufaigh wants.”

“Kate, he plays the game the same way as everyone else. The people suffer from the game, but Kimball has no other choice than to allow them to forget. Before this is over, you will be teaching Draíochtans how to use magic. This place will be as it once was.”

She prods my shoulder with her hand, pushing me toward the door. “We are wasting time. You’re going to be late for your own wedding.”

The door in the ground groans as I push it open. The air is heavy, but colder than most nights; fog blankets the forest floor.

Mom closes the door behind her then nudges me forward about ten feet through a concealment spell. The magic caresses my skin as I pass through, telling me I’m safe, reminding me I’m powerful. It’s been so long since I’ve been near strong magic.

“You should change here,” she says.

I untie the golden ropes securing me in my velvet prison, slip my arms out of the sleeves then allow the dress to fall to the ground. The dagger drops next to my feet, but I leave it there. I don’t want to carry a weapon on my wedding night.

Mom helps me fit the silk gown over my head then laces the bodice in the back. The material slides over my skin, cool and soft. Chills run along my arms and legs.

“How’s my hair?” I ask.

Mom runs her fingers through the back of my hair. “The braids all look good, and what is not braided is smooth. I am so happy you allowed Rhoswen to work on your hair again. Now turn around and let me see you.”

Picking up the skirt of the dress, I twirl.

Tears roll down Mom’s cheeks.

“What’s wrong?”

She dabs at her red face with her sleeve. “Nothing is wrong. I cannot believe how grown up you are. You look beautiful, Kate. So beautiful. I just … I wish your father could see you.”

Wrapping my arms around her waist, I rest my head on her shoulder, and for a moment, I cry too. I have a mom, someone who is proud of her little girl, someone who has emotions for her daughter, someone who maybe even sees a little bit of herself in me.

Sniffling, she holds me at arm’s length. “We better stop or we are going to get tears all over your gorgeous dress.”

Mom bends down to pick up my other clothes, folds them and makes them invisible. “You will have to put these back on when you are ready to return inside.”

I laugh. “That may be never, Mom.”

She gives me a knowing look, shaking her head. “I understand, but you must return. And you need to keep your dagger. Put it with these clothes, but do not leave it behind. Ever.”

How did she know? Grabbing the dagger, I place it on top of the invisible clothes. “How much time will we have?”

“No more than two hours. I will be waiting here for you, so when you—”

“Got it. Let’s go, then.” I don’t want to waste any more time talking to Mom. I want to see Arland, kiss Arland,
marry
Arland. And I want as much time to enjoy him as possible.

Kneeling, she squeezes her right hand into a fist, opens it then transfers a blue flame onto a torch.

“You guys have been planning a lot together, haven’t you?” I wonder who all has been involved and what I should expect.

“We had to.” Mom reaches the torch out to her right and touches it to some invisible barrier. Blue flames ignite in a straight line ahead of us. She does the same to another barrier on the left. A ten-foot tall wall on both sides of us, as well as our path and my white, silk dress now glow with a soft-blue hue.

My breath catches.

Mom looks over at me with a smile. “You did not think I would allow you to get married without something beautiful to remember it by, did you?”

I don’t know what I thought, but it wasn’t this.

She puts out her hand, indicating for me to walk ahead of her, but instead I link my arm through hers and we proceed together toward Arland and my new future.

I memorize every tree the flames illuminate. Soak in every smell of the forest—pine, dried leaves, dirt, dew, the light sulfuric smell of the fog. The fog itself is beautiful, clouds glowing gray and blue around us.

Mom glances at me from the corner of her eye. “It only gets better. Just you wait.”

Better
? “I cannot imagine anything being better than this.”

“Your sister had almost every one of
your
soldiers out here trying to get this just right. What should I tell her when I return?”

“That I love her.”

“I believe that is appropriate, and I will tell her you were speechless.”

The path takes a sudden turn to the left and leads us down a short hill.

Mom and I fall quiet as we descend flat stone steps built into the side of the hill, placing each foot in front of the other with care. I lift the silk skirt in my hands.

Thank the gods Brit didn’t design any special shoes for me.

The boots are an odd accompaniment with the white gown, but they are more appropriate than any stiletto money could buy.

Reaching the last step, I look up and have to fight against every urge inside me not to let tears fall. Arland stands under a healthy willow tree in front of the river, hands clasped in front of him, wearing his perfect-for-any-occasion regular clothes. Surrounding him are hundreds of white candles, lit with real flames, not blue. Warm yellow light fills the space around him. White jasmine flowers, matching the ones on my gown, sprinkle the ground with their pureness. The air smells sweet from the natural perfume.

We lock eyes, and Arland smiles.

I’m frozen in place.

The sight is more magical than any power I’ve been graced by the gods with, and I want to remember this—all of this—forever.

I inhale a deep breath, holding it in.

“Are you coming, Kate?”

“Yes. I’m just … just … I don’t even know what to say, Mom. It’s beautiful. I’m amazed.” I gasp. “The tree … .”

“It is a tree of life.” She takes my hand in hers. “You should not keep Arland waiting. He has suffered without you as much, if not more, than you have suffered without him.”

I don’t meet her eyes or ask about the implication of the tree; instead I stare ahead at Arland, watching for some indication of pain. He’s had to witness me kiss Perth, hug him, hold his hand, sneak in and out of his room at night and vice-versa, but Arland reveals nothing more than joy. The yellow light glows on his skin, flickering in his eyes. The corners of his mouth twist up, melting my heart.

The distance between us is unbearable—my feet want to run to him, my body craves to be held in his arms, my lips tingle with excitement for an encounter with his. Every step I take sends another thrilling jolt of excitement through me. The protective barrier around us fades in the corner of my vision and all that’s left is Arland, smiling at me,
for
me.

Arriving next to him, Mom bends and places my invisible clothes and weapon on the ground, then takes our hands and places them together. Arland’s warmth shoots up my arms, makes my heart do summersaults in my chest. Mom places a palm on each of our shoulders.

Goose bumps line my skin from head to toe.

“You look beautiful,” he says in a deep, sultry voice.

I glance down, cheeks warming. “Thank you.”

Arland kisses my forehead. “You have no idea how much I have missed your hands in mine.”

I squeeze his fingers. “I think I have a very good idea.”

Mom lets go of us then picks up a candle from the ground. “We should get started.”

Arland and I turn to face her. The crashing waterfalls in the distance behind Mom give me a strong sense of déjà vu, but I shake the thought.

She waves the candle above and below mine and Arland’s connection, then sets it down. When Mom returns upright, she places one hand under mine and one on top of Arland’s, then closes her eyes. “Cheangal orthu, banna iad, iad a choinneáil le chéile Arland agus Katriona. For you, Kate, it means Bind them, bond them, keep them together, Arland and Katriona.”

My skin warms. I look from Mom to Arland to my hand. Golden lines twisted around each other in braids swirl from my fingertips, loop around my palm, and curve up my wrist like an intricate tattoo of light. Matching braided lines appear on Arland.

We meet eyes and hold each other’s gaze. I feel his heart beating and the relief each breath of air brings his lungs—we are one.

“Le Chéile deo. Together forever.” Mom releases us, kisses Arland on the cheek, then me. “Anois agus i gcónaí. Now and always.”

The warmth in my hand races up my arm, across my shoulders, down my back and legs. My entire body is hot and swollen, ready to burst, ready to meet lips with Arland’s … ready to love.

He’s beautiful. Gone is the sadness he carried when we arrived at Willow Falls. Gone are the small dark circles under his eyes.

Every exposed part us radiates with light from the golden braids. The magic swirls around us, keeping us together, drawing us closer.

Mom sucks in a sharp breath. “I have never seen a Binding so strong … .”

“
There has never been a Binding reinforced by the gods
.” Arland’s voice floats through my mind, seductive, hungry.

My head fills with memories—Arland’s memories—full of love, sadness, joy, pain, desire. I see the girl I used to be, dropping a plate of food on the ground, feel his excitement when he saw my face. Even before he knew I was Katriona Wilde, he thought I was beautiful, captivating.

The next memory hits: our first kiss. He swore to never let anything happen to me, swore never to kiss another, swore to sacrifice his life to save me. The pain the first time I saved his life brought him is almost unbearable, buckling my knees. He felt like he’d betrayed me, like he’d failed me, like he should leave me.

I shake my head.

His thoughts change, and he shows me images of us in the stables, in the bath, all of our soldiers working to prepare for our marriage and then our marriage itself. Intense pleasure is what he feels; his entire body emanates with it. He sees no world beyond me, beyond my lips, beyond my eyes.

 I don’t know what memories he’s received of mine, but he hasn’t stopped smiling, hasn’t loosened his grip on my hand, hasn’t looked away from me once.

I thought I’d be nervous about what to do once we were Bound and had to follow through with things we’d been interrupted on so many times. Instead, I find myself wishing my mom would disappear, run as fast as possible, go anywhere but here so Arland and I can complete our marriage.

My breaths come out heavy, and my head almost refuses to turn, but I face Mom.

She’s gone
.

I look toward the hill, but she’s not there either. “Where did—?”

Arland ignores my half-asked question and crashes his lips against mine. His hands make their way to my face, mouth trailing along my jaw, up to my ear, down my neck. I lean my head back, allow him to kiss a line straight to my chest where he stops at the row of flowers on my scooped-neck gown.