Wilde's Army (8 page)

Daemons startle and rush to the narrow corridor leading to the exit, then pause. Their mouths foam, excited by our sudden appearance at their prison. The tairb’s eyes widen and glow red. The coscartha’s shrieks—loud, agitated sounds—pierce my ears. There’s even a hound or two in the group.

A howl rings into the Darkness.

The daemons advance.

We brace.

“Okay, everyone, remember what you need to do. When the old magic comes to life, command it into fire and burn the daemons. Do you understand?” Arland stares at me, but he speaks to all of us.

“I cannot wait.” Flanna leans forward and growls.

We don’t move from where we stand. Arland and I hold hands and Brit’s are on my shoulders. Cadman and Flanna flank our sides.

Wake up
!

I speak no other words to the magic. Stones, leaves, beads of water, bark from trees, blades of grass—all the representations of nature come alive in brilliant blues, greens, whites, and thousands of other colors to fight by our sides. The sprites swirl around, lift our hair, cover our skin and caress us with their soft wings.

Blue flames light all of us on fire.

Arland closes his eyes. Other than Brit and me, everyone’s eyes are closed. Cadman, Flanna, and Arland whisper inaudible words.

He squeezes my hand, reassuring me, reminding me I am in control. “Now, Kate, send the magic to the daemons.”

“Turn to fire. Burn them!” I command.

Transforming from soft, ethereal creatures into blue fireballs, thousands of sprites fly into the cave. Flames reach from my body and into the daemons as they continue their advance. With outstretched claws, bared teeth, and growls so loud they rumble in my chest, the daemons jump to the side to avoid the magic. Some are burned and killed instantly while others seem to ignore our attack.

Releasing a low, guttural sound, a giant black hound bounds toward us through the flames.

Flanna raises her hands above her head and smiles wickedly. “Mharúdó!”

One large, blue flame forms above her. She points her lifted arms toward the creature; the fire stretches out then lands on him. With a whimper like an injured pup, the hound burns until all that’s left is a pile of ashes.

Flanna winks at me.

Ten more coscarthas approach. Before I have time to react, Cadman, Flanna, and Arland all control the magic, shouting commands. The power flows through us as it did when we were healing Brad. A heightened sense of connection to them, as though their existences are attached to me, tugs at my core. The power dwindles as it spreads into them, stealing strength from me, but empowering them.

My knees shake.

Arland squeezes my hand. “Just a little while longer, Kate.”

Give her strength, Griandor
. Arland’s voice plays in my mind.

Looking at him, I notice his eyes are locked with a daemon a few feet in front of us, his mouth closed.

P-please, let us l-l-live
. This time I hear Brit.

Lann. Lann. Lann
. Flanna.

Sunshine
. Cadman thinks the word as though he sees the sun, and it’s the most beautiful sight his eyes have ever beheld.

No one speaks aloud, but I hear their voices. The magic must be providing a mental connection.

Blue sprites swirl between the monsters created for war and us.

Everyone except for Brit commands the beings to attack the daemons as they draw closer and encircle us. Fifteen tiarbs, hounds, and coscarthas stand on all sides. Some drool, some growl, and some are burned and bloody. They still appear hungry for a fight, yet they don’t advance.

I look toward the endless black sky. “Finish this!”

Radiant sunlight breaks through the Darkness and beams down on us from the heavens. Magic flows through and out of my body, blasting into the daemons. It takes every weakened muscle to try to remain standing, but my knees buckle. Arland, Flanna, Cadman, and Brit grab hold of my arms to support me; their hands are hot but comforting.

“Stop! Unless you want me to kill him, which I would not mind doing.” A sadistic voice penetrates my concentration.

The Light retreats upward.

Turning my head to the left, I see where the voice came from. A tairb stands about twenty feet away from us, holding onto Perth with one of its claws at his throat.

Crawling over the rock formation, climbing up the slope behind us, appearing from everywhere, hundreds of daemons surround our small group of fighters. I spin around, trying to find escape, trying to look for a weakness in the daemon’s plan to trap us, but find none. The shrieks in the forest when I ran away from Perth, how simple it was for him to lead the daemons out of the cave … this has all been a trick.

A smile stretches across the tairb’s face when I return my eyes to his. “So you see, you are trapped. If you wish the boy to live, you will surrender.”

His blood red eyes flit between me, and Perth’s neck.

“Do not surrender,” Perth squeaks.

The tairb growls, and a coscartha kicks Perth’s gut. He groans. Tears run from the corners of his eyes.

I will not surrender. I will not allow them to hurt Perth or anyone else. At my core, anger, rage and power all struggle for control. I clench Arland’s hand in mine as the daemons take a few steps forward. My body trembles as magic tries to escape, as if trying to shake off my skin. Fire erupts on all of us, and without any guidance from me, the magic flows around Perth and into the tairb. The glow from its red eyes fades, and it drops to the ground in flames.

Perth runs toward us, flashing me an apologetic look. He takes a stance behind Arland and shouts commands to the magic with the others, sending fire toward the remaining daemons.

Shrieks, howls, and grunts fill the air as old magic consumes our enemies. The others control the power flowing from me so well, there is very little I have to do, but my legs are like jelly. My vision fades in and out, and before I have time to stop myself, I fall.

Arland quits fighting and pulls me upright. “Just a few more, Kate, then I promise you can rest.”

When my sight returns, I smile, but when a hound leaps off the rocks, my happy expression disappears. “Arland, behind you!”

He looks over his shoulder, but before he has time to react, Perth jumps in front of us, arms outstretched, magic crackling from his fingers.

“Sruthándó!” Flames flow from him and engulf the beast.

The hound falls to the ground, howling an agonizing, low-pitched cry until its life is stolen.

The air smells of death.

The shrieks and howls have stopped. Water rushing in the river is the only thing I hear.

“Well, that was unexpected.” Flanna breaks the silence, staring at Perth.

Cadman glances in all directions. “I believe he was the last of them, sir.”

“You can let the magic go now, Kate.” Arland hands my sword to Cadman, wraps his arms around me, then lifts me to my feet.

I rest my head on Arland’s chest, soaking in his earthy scent. “It would be nice if they could stay. Let us enjoy the light for a while, you know?”

He tightens his hold on me. “You cannot stand up, Kate. You need to let them go, so you can rest.”

“I know.”

Thank you for helping us
.

Sprites disappear into the earth, leaving everything dark, gloomy, and cold. Encardia is miserable again.

I pull my head away from Arland; everyone smiles at me.

Perth catches my gaze.

“What happened?” I ask.

He shrugs. “They caught up to me about ten miles from here. The horse could not outrun them.”

“Well, thank you for trying
and
for risking your life.”

Arland gives a disgruntled sigh, sounding more like a growl. “Kate, I am going to move you inside the cave. Do you feel sick like you did last time?”

His question brings my attention to the muscles screaming inside me to sit down. “Not sick, just tired.”

He scoops me into his arms.

“What are you doing? We cannot stay here. We need to return to Watchers Hall or move to Willow Falls, but staying here is not an option,” Perth yells, holding his hands out at his sides.

Arland’s arms tense. “In case you are not aware, we only have two weapons between the nearly fifty soldiers and children: Kate and her sword. Since Kate is too exhausted to stand on her own, we are going to have to sleep here tonight.”

The ice-cold look returns to Perth’s eyes. “If you had done your job better, we would not be in this predicament. You have been so focused on your love affair, you missed that we had traitors in the base.”

“May I hit him, sir?” Cadman asks.

Arland sets me down by Flanna and Brit, then turns around and storms over to Perth.

I cannot watch what’s taking place.

Arland balls his fists. “No. I will hit him.”

Flanna and Brit watch with smiles and wide-eyes.

Appalled, I gather as much strength to put in my voice as possible. “No!”

Arland stops and looks over his shoulder. The pain in his eyes is unbearable. Perth is a constant representation of everything that has been taken from Arland. Me siding with Perth must hurt like a betrayal.

“No one is going to hit Perth.” I catch his eyes and scowl. “Perth, if you want people to trust you, stop being an asshole. If it weren’t for mine and Arland’s
love affair
, as you so called it, there would be no end to this war. If you want to put yourself to good use, why don’t you take the time I need to rest to ride back to Watchers Hall to get weapons?”

He looks at me with indignation, but even from where I stand, I meet his angry look with one of my own. I’m trying to trust him, and I’m trying to get the others to as well, but he’s not making this easy.

Perth shakes his head then takes a few steps back. “I will gather the weapons and more horses.”

Arland unclenches his fists. “Cadman, will you willingly go with him?”

“If you wish me to, sir.”

Arland nods then returns to scoop me back up. “We will free Gavin and Ogilvie then send them, as well. Cadman, go release them now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cadman heads into the cave with Flanna and Brit following him.

“Hey, Arland,” Perth calls.

Arland turns. “Yes, Perth?”

“Try not to let anything else happen to Kate while I am gone.” Perth laughs, then disappears into the Darkness.

Arland’s eyes meet mine, full of rage.

I place my hand on his cheek. “Let him go,” I whisper.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Mom’s voice drifts into my peaceful sleep.

I’m not dreaming—not while Arland is around protecting me from
all
nighttime visitors—and I know I’m with him because I cannot imagine anyone else’s lap being so comfortable. My back and legs ache from lying on the cold stone surface, but the pain is easy to ignore now that I’m safe in the arms of my Coimeádaí, my love, my protector. I open my eyes, but everything is dark. The torches illuminating the cave earlier no longer burn. I make a slight shift to sit up, but Arland clamps his hand on my shoulder and holds me down. After I stop my attempt, he releases me then caresses my arm.

“Beautiful does not even begin to describe her,” he whispers.

Flanna telling me Arland thought I was the most beautiful woman in the world, the way he touches me and looks at me as though he cannot get enough—these things make me wish for a million more moments like this. A million more stolen kisses on the hand and lips and sneaking away for warm baths together. But Arland didn’t make me stay down to tell my mother I’m beautiful; I’m sure their conversation is about to switch to a more serious nature, and he doesn’t want my mom to hold anything back.

“I have never seen her so happy, Arland. Not even the horses make her light up the way you do.” I envision her looking down at me and smiling, eyes full of tears—like she did when I graduated high school.

The pace at which Arland’s hand runs along my skin quickens. “Tell me, Leader Wilde—”

He goes rigid and stops tracing along my arm.

“Please, call me Saraid. I have lived a lie a long time, Arland, but hearing that name reminds me too much of my husband. Maybe more now, while I am so close to home.”

The desperation with which Mom utters her words drills through me and settles in my chest. There is so much about her I don’t know, and I cannot imagine what it must have been like to hide the painful memories without ever speaking of them.

“It must have been difficult on you all those years. How did you manage to keep your true self locked away? What information I have of Earth does not suggest those humans take kindly to us.” Arland runs his finger along the side of my face, down my neck and arm, sending chills all over.

“So much changed during the time the portal was closed. I am sure you have noticed how Kate is much different from any women here.” She pauses. “Her sister more so.”

“Yes, Brit is quite … ” Arland hangs on the word quite, as if looking for the right thing to say, “forward.”

I smile. Forward, blunt, sarcastic … .

Mom sighs. “It is a good thing we were instructed to travel there. The people have grown to have fantastic imaginations and are learning to accept themselves and other diversified cultures. It was not as difficult to fit in as Brian—” She chokes at the mention of my dad’s name.

Arland stops tracing the lines and circles with his finger and rests his hand on my shoulder. “I am sorry. He was a great man. My father respected him, and while I was only a boy, I respected him as well.”

Arland means it. He’s spoken of my dad before, and even now Arland’s voice resonates with earnestness.

“Thank you, but I did not sit next to you to speak of my love, Arland. I sat here to speak of yours. I am aware you want answers, and I think it’s time I furnish some.”

At this whispered announcement he jolts, but immediately returns to tracing. “Is Kate going to be killed?”

This is not the question I wanted him to ask, but I understand why it’s at the top of his list. Mom already told me she doesn’t know whether he’s going to die or not, but we never established anything about my life.