Wilde's Army (6 page)

“Arland? Brit?” I call.

My quivering voice echoes, betraying my nerves, my fears.

The tunnels are about three feet wide and four feet tall. I cannot imagine how daemons could have gotten Arland and Brit in here without a struggle, but I don’t see any signs of one. No blood, no tracks … nothing.

The path makes a sudden, sharp slant downward. A hill so steep, it takes all my strength to keep from sliding forward. Turning around, I crab-walk down the slope; my muscles twitch and burn from holding myself up.

When the ground levels out again, the walls open into a large space and reveal three possible paths. I stand, close my eyes, and search for the bands—they lead to the right.

“Arland? Brit?” I call again.

The deeper I get, the creepier this situation becomes. A constant hissing noise grows louder and louder. Instead of getting colder the further underground I get, the cave fills with a damp, warm air.

I shudder. Goose bumps prick up my arms and raise the hairs on the back of my neck. The walls close in again; I return to my hands and knees. Time drones on. I don’t even know if I’m following the right clues, but I will not give up on Arland and Brit, on love, or on family.

Another hiss echoes in front of me. I try to place why the sound is so familiar, and then it comes again—louder. Hissing is not a normal sound for a cave. It reminds me of … collecting eggs from the chicken coop, but why?

Again the sound echoes.

When I was seven, a black snake lashed out at me when I was gathering eggs from under a chicken. The snake was using the hen’s warmth and eating her eggs; snakes are smart, vile creatures. But this sound is too loud to be any normal snake.

Serpents
!

Perth said he’s never seen them outside the water, but of course they come out, and what better place than in a low cave next to a river?

My hands and knees propel me forward at an alarming pace. I shouldn’t rush into this when I know nothing about what I’m going to face, but the thought of the daemon being near my sister or my love is my driving force. Closing my eyes, I look at the ground to make sure I’m still on the right path.

I am.

“Arland? Brit?” I yell.

The hiss is deafening, making me pause in my tracks. I listen for any other noise that might give me information I need, but cannot hear anything else, so I continue crawling. The walls open up again. My fire fills the space ahead of me, revealing something I’ve never imagined.

Standing at least forty feet tall is the biggest snake I’ve ever seen. It looks like a cobra with brown and white scales the size of tables. Its hood is puffed out, and it hisses at Arland and Brit. They appear to be tied to the wall by their arms and legs, but there’s no rope. Closing my eyes again, I see the pulsing black bands covering almost every inch of their bodies.

I have no sword.
What was I thinking leaving it with Cadman
? The fire rages inside me. Arland and Brit turn their heads in my direction. Their eyes widen when the serpent follows their gaze.

I need you, magic. Fill this cave and burn that daemon
.

Sprites peel themselves from the ceiling, from the dirt floor, and from pools of water around my feet. At first, they maintain their natural shape—like rocks, dirt, and beads of liquid—but when they see the serpent, they turn into balls of blue flames then swirl around him. He spits, hisses, then snaps at them as they drive through his body.

Using the distraction caused by the sprites, I run along the path leading to the wall where Brit and Arland are bound. There are so many bands wrapped around their bodies, I’m afraid to touch them.

I need more. Help us. Cut these bindings and free Arland and Brit
.

Flames break off me then burn through the daemon’s bands; they writhe and slink away.

Arland slumps to the cave floor.

Brit falls to her hands and knees.

Neither speaks.

Blood covers their bodies. Their top layer of skin is dissolved.

They’re dying
.

My hands fill with painful nerves; my heart can’t decide if it wants to stop or beat at a million miles per hour. “Arland? Brit? Please … say something.”

Neither responds.

I cannot touch them, cannot move from where I stand.

The battle between the serpent and sprites continues behind me. It needs to end.
I
need all the help with my love and my sister I can get. Anger boils in the pit of my stomach. Turning from them, I march toward the serpent. He lunges, but magic forms a blue wall in front of me.

Kill him
! I command.

Flames stretch from my body and engulf the hissing creature. My strength grows weak, but I do not back down. He bares his fangs; poison drips from them, landing near my feet. Taking two steps back to avoid the deadly fluid, I push even more fire from my soul. Blue flames swirl around then drive inside the serpent. He wails and sways but remains standing.

The daemon lowers his head and hisses right in front of my face, blowing my hair from my shoulders. His hot, rank breath moistens my skin, fuels my anger. I’m certain death would come rapidly if any of the yellow substance leaking from his fangs touches me. I take two more steps away; I’m standing between two motionless bodies. Arland and Brit.

Throwing my head back, I look up toward the heavens—even though all I see is our stone tomb.
Griandor, please help me
.

I raise my hands over my head. “Fill me. Use me. Kill him.”

From every direction, bright, yellow light rushes into the cavernous space and into my upraised arms. A power flows in my veins and nearly knocks me off my feet, but I push through it and stand my ground. The serpent spits then lashes out toward me. I jump forward and thrust my hands and magic in front of my body. Light pours out of me and directly into his open mouth.

The creature collapses to the ground, but he continues to spit, hiss, and snap. Putting my hand on his neck, I focus all the Light into it. The magic severs his head from his body.

His black, beady eyes go blank.

I look up into the vast openness of the cave and at all the sprites flying around. The stone walls reflect the color of the sun in the sky from the Light on my body. I return to Arland and Brit.

“Now heal them!” I lay my hands on their shoulders, transferring power from my body into theirs.

In an instant, old magic covers their skin. I watch and wait as their wounds close, their skin regains color, and their arms and legs wiggle.

The sprites disappear, but Griandor’s Light still shines through me.

Arland and Brit stand and appear to be in perfect condition.

My legs weaken, and my head spins. “Arland? Brit?”

Their forms twist and fade before my eyes.

Arland manages to get his arms around me just as I lose control and black out.

“Kate?” Arland’s voice bounces inside my head like a broken record.

Splitting pain radiates from the base of my neck to my temples. What happened to me? My body aches like I’ve been hit by a tractor trailer, but I don’t remember being touched by anything.

I moan.

“Brit, I think she is coming around.” Relief floods his soft words.

“Kate? Oh God, Kate, are you okay?” Brit’s voice is piercing and cuts through me like a knife.

My brain hurts so badly. I wish she would just be quiet, but hearing her speak calms the tension inside me—
she’s alive
.

Fabric rips. “Take this. Get it wet with water from one of the pools,” Arland says.

“I’ll be right back.” Brit might as well be speaking into a microphone. Her fast-paced footsteps echo around the cavernous room.

Arland puts one hand under my head, and the other caresses my cheek. “I know you are awake, and I am almost positive you are in a good deal of pain. What you did with the magic was incredible, Kate, but I understand now what your mother said about rest—you have not had enough of it.”

My fingers come to life, and I take hold of his hand over my face. “My head hurts.”

He chuckles under his breath. “You slipped out of my arms before I had a good grip on you. You hit your head pretty hard. Can you open your eyes, or does it hurt too much?”

I have to see Arland and Brit’s faces for myself, make sure they’re healed—make sure I’m not dreaming. My eyes flutter open, but everything around me spins, and I shut them again. “I think I’m going to puke.”

“Just keep your eyes closed. I will carry you out,” he whispers.

“You can’t. The passages are too narrow.” Too much talking. My stomach rises in my throat. I roll to my side … just in case.

“Here,” Brit yells.

Water drops on my face, cold and shocking.

“Thank you, Brit. Kate is okay; she is worn from using the magic, and her head hurts,” he whispers so quietly I strain to hear him.

Arland dabs the wet cloth across my cheek.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Kate. I’ll be quieter.” She mimics Arland’s tone. “What are we going to do, Arland? We can’t stay in here. W-what if another one of those s-s-snakes comes in?”

Ever since a snake bit Brit at our favorite swimming hole, she’s hated the legless reptiles. Being in here is probably freaking her out more than I can even imagine.

Grabbing onto Arland’s forearm, I sit up. The effort is great, but I don’t make it far. I fall into his lap. Pushing aside the overwhelming nausea, I open my eyes again, focus on his face, and take slow, deep breaths to keep from throwing up. His clenched jaw and the crease in his forehead make me wonder if I’m the one who was trapped by shifters a few minutes ago.

“You are going to have to help me up.”

He pushes my hair behind my ear, leaving tingling trails where his skin touches mine. “I believe you should rest.” Arland’s voice has the power to soothe every worry I’ve ever had, and right now is no different.

I fight an urge to go to sleep on him and grab onto his arms again. “There’s no time, Arland. Brit’s right; we cannot stay here. Other serpents can come in, there are two shifters in the cave we still have to take care of, and we have to rescue Perth.”

Arland holds my arms and slowly lifts me upright, but I’m too weak to support myself. I lean my head into his chest. Black spots appear in my vision, and blood thrums in my ears.

“Rescue Perth?” he asks, rubbing my back.

I press my hand to my mouth as if that will hold back yesterday’s lunch. “Yes. If it wasn’t for him, I would never have found or been able to save you guys.”

Arland holds me out then narrows his eyes. “Kate, please tell me he does not know who you are! Tell me you did not show him what you are capable of!”

The sudden jerk in my stomach does me in. Salty fluids fill my mouth, gurgles from the furthest reaches of my gut rumble—I lean over and throw up.

“I am sorry; I did not mean to make you ill,” Arland says.

Brit hands me a wet cloth. “Here. I ripped some off my shirt in case you needed more.”

Sitting up on my own, I take the bit of fabric and wipe my mouth. “Thanks.”

“Kate?” Arland’s eyebrows pull together so tight, I’m afraid to tell him anything.

Swallowing hard, I decide it’s better to speak, to share everything. “Arland, P-Perth knows. He always has, but he’s not bad. Perth doesn’t agree with what his people do. He wants peace between our kinds, but he’s scared to go against his father. Perth led me here; he even put his own life on the line so I could rescue everyone. The daemons followed him from the cave. He’s heading north along the river toward Willow Falls. I promised to come for him.”

I stand slowly, but have to hurry to turn my head from Arland. I throw up again. After I’m finished, he wraps his arm around me for support. Brit does the same on my right side.

“Can you walk?” he asks.

Even though I nod, Brit and Arland don’t move from my sides. Together, we start toward the small hole I crawled through to get here.

“I do not trust Perth, Kate.” Arland keeps his eyes focused ahead of him.

“He gives me the creeps, too,” Brit chimes in.

“I know, Arland. Your father doesn’t trust him either.” I sigh. “When I spoke to him, he said all Ground Dwellers are bad, but I have advice from Griandor to trust those around me. And since Perth was the only one around me … . “

Arland stops then turns to face me, clenching his jaw and breathing heavily through his nose. I rest my hands on his shoulders for support. What is he more upset about: Perth or Griandor?

Arland arches his eyebrow. “You spoke with Griandor?”

The white-haired god it is. “Yes, and I had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting his brother Dughbal. I know what this war is about, and I know how to end it. The first step is getting to Willow Falls to form an army.”

Arland shakes his head. “We have an army.”

“That’s the same thing your father said, but Arland,
I
need an army.”

He smiles. “And what did my father say when you told him the army was for you?”

“He said he’d see what he can do.” I laugh. “Griandor said it would be hard because your father, Dufaigh, and someone named Murchadha are afraid for any more lives to be lost, but I would have to find a way to unite both sides and have them fight for me.”

Pulling me closer, Arland’s fingers tense on my back. His intensity burns right into me. “Did he say how you would have to unite our two kinds?”

I don’t like how nervous he’s become. My heart rate picks up. “No, just that I need to do whatever it takes … .” As I’m speaking, it becomes clear what could unite our two kinds: a willing marriage to Perth. Arland realized it the instant he heard what Griandor wants me to do. If
I
had realized it sooner, I might have had something to say to the sun god.

“Arland, I won’t. I can’t. That’s not what I want for my life. You know that. You know what I want.” I hold his gaze—he needs to know how serious I am, how much he means to me and how much my life will remain in my control.

“I’m confused. What exactly is going on?” Brit asks.

“The only way to unite our people with the Ground Dwellers is for Kate to marry Perth,” Arland says, without taking his eyes off me.