Wilde's Fire (Darkness Falls #1) (21 page)

“I can’t wait,” I say, jumping from bed.

The thought of seeing Brit and my mom is overwhelming. I rush to get dressed, then run from the room for breakfast.

Flanna raises her eyebrows when I come barreling toward the kitchen. Whatever she’s thinking, I’m sure it’s not the truth. That’s all I know. Even if I wanted to do something with Arland last night, I don’t think it would have happened.

“Kate, are you forgetting something?” Flanna asks.

Following her gaze, I look at my feet. “Oh, my boots!”

I turn back for the bedroom, but Arland carries my boots to me. I sit at the closest table and slide them on, fumbling with the laces.

“I am going to check in with the Watchers. Try not to run off without me,” Arland says, then disappears into the corridor.

“Why is he going down there, if the Watchers are outside?” I ask, cinching my bootlace.

“He does not need to go outside to communicate with them.”

“So how—?”

“Arland can tell you later.” Flanna waves. “I am dying to know, did you have a nice night?” She adds a hint of amusement to her question.

After lacing my other boot, I get up to walk past her into the kitchen. “Yes.”

Trailing behind me, she grabs my shoulder and spins me around. “Would you like to tell me about it?”

“No, it’s not what you think.” For Arland’s sake, I don’t want people to read more into us than they need to.

“You are no fun.” Flanna abandons me to stir some sort of slop over the fire.

“We just talked.”

She flashes a grin over her shoulder. “Call it what you will, but I saw you go into the washroom together.”

“There wasn’t anyone out here when we went in. How could you have seen us?”

“I have my ways.” Flanna continues stirring her slop. “So, are you going to tell me, or do I have to get it from Arland?”

“We
just
talked.”

“Arland it is.” She smiles wickedly. “My cousin tells me everything.”

“Sure he does,” I say, giving her the same wicked smile. “I’m going to go in the other room and wait for him.”

Pulling out a chair at the closest table, I sit and put my face in my hands. My legs bounce; my palms sweat. I’m messing up Arland’s relationship with his people. They cannot lose respect for him. I need to focus on what’s important. Getting help for Brad. Figuring out who I am.

I picture Brit’s smiling face, her sarcasm, and her enthusiasm for life … think of the way she makes me feel needed and loved. And I picture Mom’s open arms, and how wonderful a hug from her would be right now. No matter how many questions I have, I need her.

The door creaks open; Arland returns to the kitchen, scoops some of Flanna’s slop into two bowls. He carries them out and hands one to me.

“Eat this,” he says.

“What is it?” I ask, stabbing my spoon at the mushy, brown substance.

“I know it looks terrible, but it tastes wonderful. Flanna prepares this using magic, when she does not like what there is to choose from in our food supplies.” Arland takes a heaping bite.

I spoon some of the slop into my mouth. The taste surprises me; it’s good. The texture becomes chunky, like I’m biting into potatoes and chewing on meat. “Mmm. It
is
delicious.”

“She calls it Flanna’s Surprise.”

I take another bite. “It’s definitely a surprise.” Lowering my voice so Flanna doesn’t overhear, I say, “Oh, and I don’t think she’s going to give you hell about the bath.”

“Oh?”

“She already gave it to me.”

“I knew my cousin would not let us off easy.” Arland laughs then takes another huge bite of Flanna’s Surprise.

On cue, she walks into the dining area, hands up in surrender, eyes big and demure.

“Flanna, go wake Cadman and bring him to the stables,” Arland says.

She nods, then bounces off to get the older soldier.

“We are bringing the two of them with us for extra security.”

The door to the soldier’s quarters squeaks on its hinges, echoing into the dining room.

“Do you intend to tell Cadman the truth about me?”

“No.” Arland answers too fast to have thought about the question.

“Won’t he find it a little odd for us to be riding out to the clearing, possibly disappearing into a chasm in the earth, or even potentially standing around until we give up and head back?”

Arland stops eating and turns his head toward me. “Cadman is a good soldier. He will not question it.”

“I think you should tell him. If he’s going to risk his life protecting us, he should at least know what he’s willing to die for.” If I were Cadman, I would appreciate the truth.

“It does not make you nervous to have another learn of your prophecy?” Arland whispers.

“Anyone who is willing to risk their life to protect me should be informed.” It does make me nervous to have more people find out, but they will discover the truth anyway. I don’t want people dying for me without knowing why.

“That is very honorable of you, but there are many here who should not know who you are,” he says, still keeping his voice low.

I’d bet Perth is one of those people.

I take my last bite, and Arland swipes my bowl to carry it into the kitchen. “Are you ready?” he calls.

“Y-yes.”

The stables are quiet. Almost all of the animals rest in their stalls. Mirain and Bowen are the only creatures awake, and they appear to have been waiting for us, nearly confirming my suspicions of the horses being magical.

I offer Mirain a treat before entering her stall. Arland follows behind me. He clasps his hands together, creating a footrest for me to mount, then he goes inside the other stall and mounts Bowen.

We ride the horses toward the exit by the storage bay and wait for the others. Arland quietly watches me—I’m going to need a new heart if all this racing doesn’t stop.

The door opens; Cadman and Flanna climb the last of the stairs, then join us in the stables. “Where are we riding to, sir?” Cadman asks, riding out one of the stallions and halting next to us.

“We are going to the clearing. Upon our arrival, you and Flanna will stand guard over the horses and watch for daemons,” Arland says, sitting tall on Bowen’s back.

Cadman nods.

I flash Arland a pointed look.

“Kate has also asked me to inform you of our mission. If you have not already discovered, she is no normal recruit.”

“I see she is gifted with swords, as well as having your favor, sir.” Cadman glances at me.

“She is my choimeád, Cadman. It is my duty to keep her safe, so she may fulfill her prophecy. It has been foretold she will end this wretched war.” Arland is devoid of any emotion, on his face or in his voice.

So that’s all I am to him? I’m just someone he has to protect?

I should have expected this. It’s not like Arland has dreamed of
me
for six years. The bond I thought we shared must be how any Coimeádaí treats the one he’s protecting. Chagrin fills me; I cannot meet anyone’s eyes.

I’d like to find a rock and hide under it now.

Flanna leads her mare over and stands by my side. “This is Luatha.”

“What does it mean?” I stare at my fingers laced through Mirain’s mane.

“It was just a name I picked. What has you down all of a sudden?”

Arland turns from speaking to Cadman to look at me.

“I’m okay … nerves I guess.” I lie, but it makes Arland return to his conversation with Cadman, and that’s better than having him see me.

“How gullible do you think I am?” she whispers, pursing her lips.

“Flanna. I. Am. Fine.”

She keeps watching me, but I ignore her and train my eyes on my hands.

”You and Flanna are to ride ten paces ahead of us. Do not exceed a trot.” Arland barks out orders in a firm, authoritative tone. There hasn’t been any reason for him to speak this way since I’ve been here. He appears at ease in his leadership role, sitting straight on Bowen, with shoulders squared and no emotion on his face. “Once we pass the perimeter, we will need to cover the remaining distance as fast as possible.”

Everyone nods in agreement to the plan.

“Oscailte.” Arland mutters the word.

The doors swing open; Cadman and Flanna take the lead. We wait for them to get far enough ahead of us, then follow. Mirain and Bowen’s nostrils huff out steam in big, white clouds. A shiver runs through me, but my hands and legs are kept warm by Mirain’s body heat.

I cannot look at Arland. I’m still too embarrassed by the way he cast me down in front of the others. Maybe he knows it, too, because he doesn’t say anything, either. The silence between us makes the ride to the clearing painfully slow.

We travel through the thick forest, cold bearing down on us, Darkness everywhere. How long has it been since
I
have seen the sun? The world appears so much smaller when the stars don’t shine. I try hard to think of positive things, but instead of being excited at the prospect of seeing my home, Brit, and Mom, all I can think about is what Arland said about me.

Mirain gives an irritated sigh, startling Bowen; he bumps into her.

“What is it, girl?”

She shakes her head and continues walking.

Great, now she’s as moody as I am.

“I believe she is sensing your spirit. Is something other than nerves bothering you?” Arland asks, bringing me out of my solitary thoughts.

“There is
nothing
wrong with my mood,” I say, only proving there is something seriously wrong with my mood.

“You do not have to talk about it.” Arland again falls silent.

By the time we reach the edge of the perimeter, I’m ready to turn around and head back to base. I should be excited about the opportunity before us, but I’m not.

There are two guards standing watch at the end of the trail. I recognize them from the training facility.

“Gavin.” Arland tips his head at the nearer soldier, who looks to be in his mid-thirties. “Has there been any activity recently?”

Gavin locks eyes with me, but responds to Arland.

“No, sir. How far is your group traveling?” His face is strong, but his voice reveals submissiveness to the authority before him.

“Two more miles. We are going to the clearing. When your replacements come, you and Dunn need to hold your posts. If we do not return by the end of Sayer’s and Ogilvie’s shifts, you and Dunn need to come to the clearing, heavily armed. Once you reach us—if we have not already been killed—try your best to help us fight. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Gavin says, perking up. He looks excited at the chance to run a rescue mission. Keeping guard over the perimeter must become boring after months, or maybe even years, of doing it.

Finished giving instructions to Gavin, Arland leads us to the edge of the forest, then we wait. He holds up his hand, closing his eyes and turning his head to the side.

“Go!” Arland shouts.

Cadman and Flanna race their horses ahead of us; Mirain and Bowen follow without any instruction. Riding a horse bareback, with only her mane to hold on to, is exhilarating. But now that we’re in the open, it’s hard to stay focused. There are so many reasons to look over my shoulder.

Mirain and her graceful strides make me feel like we’re flying. Cold air fills my lungs, causing my chest to burn, and tears to stream down my face. I hold my breath to suppress the coughing fits attempting to take control, but I find that almost impossible at this speed. When we arrive, I take a deep breath, regretting not getting warmer clothes from Flanna.

Mirain stops next to Bowen. I jump off her back.

Arland takes my hand into his. “Show me where the portal was located?”

The spot where Arland and I stand is where, just a few days ago, my life changed forever. My palms sweat at the memory of Brad being attacked. I’m frozen in place. Arland squeezes my hand, but his touch hurts my feelings even more.

I am so stupid for thinking he feels the same way I do. I know I have to pull myself together, but I’ve never experienced anything as strong as this. The only one who’s ever rejected me was Mark Evans, in the ninth grade. I had a big crush on Mark, my biology lab partner. Each day we worked together, our friendship grew stronger. The winter social was coming up; he asked me to go with him. Of course, I said yes. My sister and I spent multiple weekends trying to pick out the perfect dress, but a week before the dance, Mark told me he was taking Allison Moore instead. He switched lab partners that day, and never talked to me again. I was crushed, but it was nothing compared to how I feel right now.

I look from my memories to where the portal was.

“It’s closed,” I say, stating the obvious. “So, now what?”

“Try asking the portal to open.” Arland rubs his thumb over my knuckles.

“Oh, sweet hole between two worlds, won’t you please open?” I add a little too much sarcasm, and receive three equally impatient scowls. “Sorry. I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

“What were you doing when you discovered the portal?” Arland asks.

“We were swimming. Brit dunked me in the water, and I dragged her under with me. That’s when we saw a bright, yellow light dive into the water, revealing the portal.”