Wilde's Fire (Darkness Falls #1) (14 page)

“A simple yes or no will be fine. It is not like he asked to be bound to you,” Flanna chides, peeking her head above the stall door, grinning ear-to-ear.

“
Bound
?”

She exhales sharply. “Just answer him.”

So the moment is not further lost, and he does not have to repeat this again in the future, I nod. “Yes. I accept.”

Arland stands and kisses my hand, leaving me a little weak in the knees. They’re expecting me to be their hero, and now he’s sworn his life to protect mine. I don’t even know how to process any of this. Brad is dying. My family is a world away. People here need me to save them. My life is not my own. The only thing I’m pleased with is Arland’s hand wrapped around mine.

“I thought I ordered you back downstairs.” Arland shoots a scowl speaking more than any words ever could at Flanna.

“You did, but I forgot this, umm, bucket. Yes, I need the bucket to gather hot water from the spring for dinner,” Flanna says.

I laugh at her halfhearted lie; even Arland cracks a smile. Flanna watches him as if she’s waiting for him to scold her, but he doesn’t move or speak.

She runs from the stables, leaving the bucket behind.

“You seem to have warmed Bowen’s heart. He is not usually so accepting of anyone other than me.” Arland pats his beautiful horse’s white shoulder.

“I’ve always had the ability to calm even the most capricious of horses. Bowen isn’t that bad, though. He’s a little proud, but nothing a little extra attention won’t cure.” I yawn.

“You are tired. We should go back inside,” Arland says, offering me his arm. “Shall we?”

I hook my arm around his, then lean toward Bowen. “I’ll see you later, Big Guy.”

Arland leads me through the stables. “Please do not come up here by yourself again. The magic is strong, but I would feel safer if someone were with you.”

“I promise I won’t, but I would like to come up more often and visit all of the animals.”

“We can work out a schedule for you,” he says, which is definitely more than what I was expecting.

gnoring Lann and Flanna in the kitchen—and the eyes of the young crowd gathered in the dining area waiting for dinner—Arland and I head into the hall and stand outside my room.

“Do you mind if I come in?” he asks.

I’m standing in the doorway, but I step aside. “It is
your
room.”

“It
was
my room. The bed and everything in here now belongs to you while we remain at base,” he says, pulling me inside by the hand and closing the door.

I take a seat on the edge of the bed, holding on to one of the wooden posts. “How long is that going to be?”

Arland sits next to me. “Considering how well you did in training today, it would be possible for us to leave any time. But I feel, if we can get to your mother, we might be able to obtain the medicines you mentioned that can help with healing your friend.”

“
Brad
!”

I haven’t checked on him since early this morning. I spring to my feet, burst through the door, and run through the hall, with Arland on my heels. I open Brad’s door, revealing Kegan reading a leather-bound book by candlelight. He’s sitting in the same chair Shay occupied earlier.

“I am sorry, miss; there has not been any change in his condition,” Kegan says, not lifting his eyes from the pages of his book.

I guess he knew I was coming in to check on Brad; it’s not like anyone else here would care. I’m not sure if many people even know he’s here. Walking to the bed, I touch his cold, still hand. A tear runs down my cheek and hangs from my chin.

“Heal him. Please, God.” I whisper the prayer.

“We cannot leave here while he is still in this bed. You would never be able to focus on the journey before us, and it could result in you and a lot of my soldiers getting hurt,” Arland says.

I move my hand from Brad’s, gently place the back of my fingers on his face, then walk away.

Arland closes the door behind us; the finality of the latch clicking startles me. I take a deep, shaky breath. “W-why do you think my mom can help him?”

“Your mother was one of our greatest Healers. I believe with the knowledge she has gained from your world, combined with their medicines, Brad’s chance of survival will greatly improve,” Arland says, holding my door open for me. “I would like to make a trip to the clearing to see if we can reopen the portal.”

My mom’s constant good health makes a lot more sense now. I wonder if she was really sick, or if she pretended, as a way to get me to go on the trip without her? I shake the thought. Of course, she wasn’t feeling well; I held her hair while she threw up. “When do we leave?”

“We will begin at 4:00 a.m. the day after tomorrow. Most daemons sleep as we do. The hounds could pose a potential issue, but there has not been much activity since the night you arrived. I am not all that concerned about them.”

“The hounds are worse than the others?” I don’t think I want to know. As long as they aren’t like hellhounds from the movies … .

“Yes, they have smaller numbers, but are a bigger threat.”

“How so?”

“They are faster, larger, and smarter than the coscarthas. You will understand when you see one,” he says, still standing in the doorway.

The fact that Arland is willing to risk both our lives to save Brad is touching. I’m sure if Arland’s father knew of this plan, he would not approve of taking Encardia’s only hope out of this world again. The thought of being
Encardia’s only hope
makes me laugh to myself.

“We’ll share the room,” I say.

“That will not be necessary. The soldiers’ quarters are more than adequate for my needs.”

“Yes, it is necessary.”

“Kate, I—”

“I don’t want to be alone, and I can’t bear the thought of you, Flanna, and Lann all being forced out of your rooms.”

Part of me offers to share the room with him as repayment for his willingness to help, but the biggest part of me does this for selfish reasons. Being here without my mom, sister, Brad, or even Gary to talk to, is driving me crazy. Plus, I’m still trying to sort out all these mixed-up emotions I have for Arland; his presence draws me in, makes me forget about all the bad going on around us. I consider him to be a friend, even though we’ve known each other for only a short time. How many people will pledge to protect you with their life after just meeting?

“I will sleep … in the chair,” Arland says, coming in and closing the door.

“No, I’m not forcing you to sleep in a chair. You can share the bed with me.” I lean the claymore I’ve been carrying in my holster all day against the wall. Brad and I shared a bed together many times, and so have Brit and I. Sleeping with Arland won’t be that much different.

That’s not true, I feel differently toward him. But, now more than ever, I need someone to stay next to me.

Removing the belt and boots, I look around for something else to wear.

Arland grabs my folded cotton nightgown from the dresser and hands it to me. “Here.”

”Oh!” When did I become so unobservant? After Arland turns to face the wall, I slip out of my clothes and into the gown. “I’m finished.”

He turns around; his eyes widen as they roam up and down my body. “You look beautiful.”

The way he looks at me now—not like a zoo animal, the way he did earlier, but as a woman—makes me feel beautiful, too. “Thank you.”

“I am going to sleep in the chair.” Arland pulls the seat away from the wall.

“Ar—”

“I will move the chair next to the bed. I know you do not want to be alone, but it would make me feel as though I were taking advantage of you, if I join you in that bed,” he says, his tone firm.

It’s nice to know he wants to sleep next to me, but it’s frustrating that he won’t. There’s no point in arguing the matter. Arland is a gentleman. I’m sure he didn’t grow up sharing a bed with friends, and definitely not members of the opposite sex, like I did. I’m lucky he even agreed to come in the room with me in the first place.

I lie down, pull the blanket up to my chin, and turn on my side to face him. In the dark room, with only a candle burning on the bedside table, we talk for hours. He asks questions about my life back home; where we live, what it is like, and what kind of work we do. I tell him I was in college, and he asks about school, what my stepdad is like, my friends, and about my mom. Our conversation becomes more serious when Arland brings up the subject of my past.

“As I told you yesterday, when your family left, it was only the three of you. Your father never told us about your sister, but since you were only a few months old when he died, he might not have known about her.”

“She and I were born one year apart, so no, he probably didn’t know about her.” It breaks my heart Dad didn’t know he had another daughter—and that we never knew him.

Arland laughs. “So you are twins?”

“Well, Irish twins, as we called it back home.”

“Who does your sister resemble?”

“We look exactly alike, but we’re complete opposites as far as our personalities. She’s more outgoing than I am.”

“You both resemble your father, then. I remember him well. During those three months before he was killed, he visited my father often.”

“I don’t know anything about him.” The lengths my dad went through to protect my life are unimaginable. To be told to run away from the only home he ever knew so his child could grow up to save the world—was he proud, or was he afraid?

“From what my father has shared with me, your father was a good man. He loved your mother greatly, and she, him. He had a difficult time leaving the family behind during the early battles. But, the amount he learned about the daemons in that period is what gave us our chance to survive. He discovered fire kills them.”

“You said I look like him, but how? Can you describe him to me?” I hope to build an image of my father, to replace the silhouette of him in my mind.

“Like you, he had dark wavy hair, but not nearly as long. You share his same big green eyes and fair skin. Your father was tall, so you must get your height from your mother.”

“She
is
short,” I say, laughing at the thought of my vertically challenged mom. All three of us have to stand on stools to reach the top shelf in the kitchen. Being five-foot-four can be a hassle at times, but one I’ve overcome.

“Your beauty certainly comes from your mother, too.” Arland’s compliment is smooth, and he says it without a hint of amusement.

A flash of heat rises in my cheeks; I’m glad the room is lit by only one candle.

“You have more family here.”

“I-I do?”

“Your mother’s younger sister Cairine and I used to keep in contact, but I have not heard from her recently. She lives in The Meadows, where you and I are both from.”

“What does The Meadows look like?” I hope an area exists that’s as perfect as my dream of the meadows.

“There are endless fields, with tall grasses and hundreds of wildflowers. In town, we had small homes, built into the hillsides. Some of us chose to live completely underground, but many of us enjoyed life above, with the light.”

“Why would anyone want to live underground? It’s so gloomy.”

“I cannot begin to understand why someone would choose to live that way without the threat we face now, but they did.”