Authors: Jamie Day
“Go faster,” ordered Ethan, giving Darian and encouraging push.
I caught his lead and grabbed Darian’s arm with my free hand. I pulled him with me and ran as fast as our two bodies would allow. I was frantic and the blood in my legs burned from lack of movement. This was the certain flight of fate. If we didn’t make it to the lake, and then safely across, we would die. This wasn’t a race; it was life or the death to come.
“Which direction?” asked Ethan. “Where’s the lake?”
I pointed at the trees ahead of us. “That way.” I remembered we had come from the forest, but it had been dark then, too. I had no idea what direction to flee.
Darian coughed again and leaned on me. Apparently, his burst of energy had expired. The man was so heavy, so weak. I stumbled and fell to the ground from his weight.
Ethan turned back to help us. “Come on,” he said, pleading as he tugged me to a stand. He used the sword as a support. “We must keep going.”
While we struggled to get Darian to his feet, a voice called out like a banshee in the night.
“Faerie!”
One word from Jory was all it took change my fear to terror. My blood turned to ice and chilled every part of me as I realized that we had been discovered.
Dogs barked. All around us, the forest came alive with chaos and yelling. There were voices of anger, panic, and—although I didn’t understand the words—there were curses.
“Which way?” Ethan pointed the sword at the darkness.
“I don’t know,” I yelled. “Keep going.”
“If we’re going the wrong direction, we’ll be trapped here.”
“Just keep going,” I yelled again. “We need to find the lake.”
“It’s that way.” Darian’s voice was faint, but firm. He coughed his words and pointed away from where I had. “The beach is there.”
Without hesitation, Ethan darted in that direction, swinging at the brush with the long sword while scattering small rodents that scrambled past our feet. Darian and I followed him. Darian was weak, and his grunts of pain hurt me to hear, but I was grateful for his effort. He was trying to run. We crashed through the trees behind Ethan. Just as Darian had told us, we arrived at the beach.
Ahead of us, Ethan dragged a wide boat through the sand. “Help me,” he said, “we’re almost there.
We weren’t almost there. The boats were high on the open shore and anyone chasing us would certainly find us as easy prey. Angry villagers flooded the trees behind us, yelling at the dark. In a matter of moments, they would arrive.
“Help my brother,” I ordered Darian, leaving him next to the wooden vessel.
“Where are you going?”
I ignored him. I ran toward the other boats and started grabbing oars. I didn’t know anything about boats, but knew we needed oars to move them. I also knew that no one could follow us in a boat without them. I had a dozen in my arms and was almost to the water when the first arrow hit my bundle. The wood stung my arms and knocked me to the ground as it scattered.
“Come on, Rhiannon!” Ethan struggled with the boot, trying to flip it over while pointing behind me.
The arrow that had knocked the paddles from my grip lay helpless on the sand in front of me. Red feathers. Just like I had seen the other night. The arrow was the same as the one my father had held in my memory. I collected the paddles again as another arrow whistled above my head. This one lodged into the back of the boat.
“Forget those,” yelled Darian. He coughed again. “Get in the boat!” His arm was bleeding but he didn’t seem to care. He shoved the boat through the last bit of sand and into the water.
I refused to leave the paddles. If our pursuers managed to use just one, they would catch us on the lake. I was certain of it.
“Get in the boat!” Darian grabbed my arm. I hadn’t seen him come back for me.
The boat bobbed on the lake while Ethan floundered on the side, trying to climb in. Darian pulled me close. As we neared the water, another arrow tore a hole in my gown near my thigh. I heaved the pile of oars into the boat and then leapt over its side.
Darian joined me and, with his good arm, pulled Ethan into the shallow sanctuary.
“Let’s go,” he said, glancing back at me.
I held up a paddle. An easy target, it flew from my hands, stinging them as it toppled on top of Ethan, a red-feathered arrow stuck in the blade.
“Come on.” Darian sounded frantic. “Row us out of here.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what that means. I don’t know boats.”
Someone grabbed my hair, yanking it back to pull me out of the boat and into the water. I screamed. Ethan thrust the arrowed oar at me, missing my head, but catching whoever held me. After a grunt and a splash, my hair fell free. Darian scrambled to the middle of the boat and grabbed an oar with both hands. The boat rocked and I felt as if it would tip us into the depths.
“Don’t move,” he ordered. He dug his oar into the water and pushed it toward Morgan. We thrust away, but followed the shoreline.
“That way,” I said, pointing away from the beach. “Our village is over there.”
I didn’t think he heard me, or cared. As I spoke, he dove on top of me, smothering me. Another arrow struck the inside wall of the boat at the same place where he had come from.
“Listen to me,” he said, wincing with each word. “I need your help. You need to row, or we’re dead.”
A hand gripped the top of the boat from the depths of the water. I kicked the fingers repeatedly until they disappeared.
Darian resumed his place at the middle of the boat and yanked the arrow from the wall. Then he thrust another oar blade into the water, moving us again. “Sit by me,” he ordered. He glanced at my brother. “Or, you can do it. I’ll need both arms. Come on; just do what I do, only on the other side.”
I scrambled, dizzy from the rocking motion, and sat next to him.
We were on the lake, but not far from the shore, drifting, not going anywhere. Several men dragged another boat to the water while a man with a bow scuffled with marked men on the beach. Our captors had been right—the men of Morgan
were
dangerous. By the look of it, they were winning, although the man’s strikes with the end of his bow seemed to keep him free of their blows. I stared at the fighting men and quickly realized who the bowman was. Cameron Barry. A man of Aisling; a friend of my family. He had tried to kill us.
Had he killed Sean?
“Grab an oar,” said Darian, breaking my thoughts. As I looked over at him, he held one in the air. “And do as I do, at the same time.”
I held the oar up to repeat his motion.
Ethan yelled. “Look, they can’t chase us. We’ve got all the oars.”
I didn’t care. Panic overcame me as I watched Cameron load a long arrow into his bow and aim it. I yelled and dug my paddle into the water, only to lose it.
“Duck!” Darian hovered over me and grunted. Immediately, he slumped onto me, smothering me with his weight again.
There was a sickening dull thud of an arrow hitting flesh. Darian yelled. The arrow had grazed his leg. If he hadn’t covered me, I would have been its victim. I grabbed another oar and dug the flat blade into the water, taking care to hold on tighter.
We moved again.
“That’s it.” Darian groaned while he struggled to resume sitting. “Now, do it when I say.” He grabbed an oar. As he lowered it to the water, he nodded his head. “Now.”
I repeated the action. The movement was a graceful change from a moment ago. The boat went straight. Not toward home, but in the direction we were pointed.
“That’s right,” said Darian, turning to look at me. He glanced behind him. “Okay,” he said, panting, “where’s Aisling?”
“There.” Ethan pointed to the distant field to the south that I knew so well. It was home.
I turned back toward the beach we had escaped and saw Cameron in a scuffle with the men from Morgan. I stared at the beach. The man who had grabbed the boat was pulling himself out the lake and quickly joined the bray. Pleased at every punch that landed on Cameron, I didn’t listen to the conversation next to me. My brother’s voice shook me from my new focus.
“Rhiannon?”
“Yes,” I said, turning to answer. “I’m listening.”
“Then row.”
The angst in Ethan’s voice told me that I had missed something important. I glanced over at Darian, but he just stared back at me, alternating rubbing his thigh and his wounded arm. He was covered in more blood than I had remembered. He also wasn’t rowing. I opened my mouth to question the command, but he spoke out before I let the words free.
“Go ahead, Rhiannon, row.”
I did as I was told. As I thrust the oar into the water, we moved again, only this time turning away from the shore. Understanding the motion better, I made a second stroke, turning us again. When my third attempt hit the water, I felt the boat move straighter, and knew that Darian was rowing with me.
“I’ve got it now,” I told him, pleased with my new skill. I looked over at Darian and back at Ethan. “We’ll make it without a problem.”
I shouldn’t have spoken. Before I finished my sentence, another arrow sailed past my head and sank silently into the lake.
“Keep going,” I said, suddenly motivated and understanding that the danger was as real as before.
Dawn had arrived. The sun wasn’t up, but violet and apricot streaks covered the sky and highlighted everything in a soft pale blue.
My arms hurt from rowing and my hands burned from the tight grip I held on the oar. Still, I kept rowing.
Why did the lake have to be so large?
I stopped when Ethan said, and resumed only when ordered. I never looked behind me, toward home; I didn’t need to. Morgan was shrinking. A sudden jolt rocked me backward into my brother. I dropped my oar into the water. We had reached Aisling.
I leaned over, biting back a cry as throbbing pain from our flight from Morgan reached my arms and legs. I knelt and scooped a handful of water; it refreshed me like the cool morning and calmed my stomach. As I swallowed, the familiar call of bluebirds welcomed me back.
“Hurry, Rhiannon,” Ethan pleaded. He dragged his long sword while scrambling toward a group of nearby horses. “We’re almost safe.”
“No.” I lifted my head and folded my arms. “I’m not going home.”
Darian lay on the gravel, motionless. It appeared he lacked the energy to move. As I leaned over him to listen for a sign of life, Ethan returned to us and grabbed my arm.
“Leave him,” he told me. “Let’s find Father. Then we’ll come back for him.”
I heard a quiet breath. Darian was alive, barely.
“You get Father,” I said, looking up at my brother and shaking my arm free from his grip. “I’m going to help this man.”
“He’s not going anywhere,” said Ethan. My brother was whining; I could tell he was tired, too.
“Then help me,” I said. “I need to get him someplace safe.” I reached low and tried lifting Darian from his good arm, but failed. I dropped his arm with a grunt. “Come on, Darian,” I said. Speaking loud again felt so refreshing. “Get up. We need to get away from the shore.”
Ethan leaned behind Darian’s head and thrust him forward to sit. Darian gave a low, guttural scream and opened his eyes.
“I can’t move,” he moaned. He coughed again. This time, blood dripped from the bottom of his lip.
“We’ll help you,” I told him. I knelt below his good shoulder and lifted with all the strength I could muster. We were able to stand. “Good,” I said. “Now, let’s go east.”
“That’s not the way home,” protested Ethan. He stabbed the ground with his sword.
“I won’t say it again. I’m not going home.” I wanted to smack the ignorance out of my brother, but I couldn’t reach him. Besides, I carried a man on my shoulders. “I can’t take this man to the village; he’s in danger there.” I took a couple steps.
“Where will you go?” Ethan was protesting, but following my steps. “You won’t be safe anyplace.”
“To my land,” I answered. “There, we
will
be safe. We’ll hide in the cave if trouble comes. Plus—” I paused. “—no one knows it’s my land. No one would think I would go there.”
My brother leaned on his sword and stared at me. Darian was heavy; I took a few more steps to keep from collapsing.
“Why would you help him?” asked Ethan. “If he’s responsible for Sean’s death, then let him die. Let him die in the same place.”
I looked around. We were near the same spot where I had found the body of my beloved. Fate had carried me full circle. It could be a fitting end to all the trouble I had known in a year, yet I couldn’t let it end this way; death was not an answer for the questions of another.
“No,” I said. “I won’t let him die. If I can help him, I will.” I turned to Darian and stared into his eyes. “Because you helped us when you didn’t need to.”
Ethan made a long fleeting look south before walking toward us. Using his sword as a crutch, he propped himself under Darian’s injured arm and stepped forward.
My brother and I struggled as we dragged the injured man. We dropped him more than once as we walked as close to the shore as we dared—enough to allow us a view of the other side of the lake—while constantly watching for pursuers. Morgan was far and I couldn’t tell what had happened there. Fortunately, boats never left the beach. Once across the horse meadow, we went deep into the forest toward Taylor’s Ridge.
When we reached the stream marking the edge of Owen Dorsey’s land, we dropped Darian in a bed of ferns and rested. Knowing we were on my land again made me braver. While Ethan and I sat on mossy stones, I stretched my legs and I allowed myself the needed groans that my body screamed to release. Darian lay quietly, watching us with eyes that were shallow and vacant.
“He’s safe here,” Ethan told me in a whisper. “We can leave him at the cave and no one will find him.”
I was too exhausted to argue with my brother, only able to nod my head in agreement. I had been foolish to think that bringing Darian here was a good idea. My body hurt like it never had before, my brother didn’t want to help, and from the look of him, Darian would most likely die before midday.
“Let’s get him to the cave,” I told Ethan. “Come on.”
The rest replenished some of our lost energy. Darian felt lighter as we carried him toward the mountain. Sooner than I had expected, we knelt at the entrance of the cave.
The cave felt colder than I remembered. Musty air hung low and stole the freshness from the surrounding forest. This place had seemed so magical last season, both times: when I had first discovered its existence with my friends, and later when I had shown it to Sean. Sean. The last time I had been here was with him. Today, I had dragged the man responsible for his death here, out of a strange commitment to save his life. As if he could read my thoughts, Darian coughed again, and spat blood onto the rocks.
I rubbed the diamond on my necklace and closed my eyes. “What should I do, Sean?” I whispered. I didn’t want anyone to die.
I opened my eyes and stared at the man on the ground near me. That man had saved my life. I
could
save him, but needed to work fast.
“Ethan,” I said, calling my brother back from beyond the cave’s gate where he had wandered. “I’m going to stay here and try to heal this man. I want you to do something for me.”
Ethan was hesitant to come closer. He swung the gate wide with fierce intention and stared at me, probing with eyes that told me the truth. He didn’t trust me anymore.
“I want you to go home,” I told him. “You don’t need to stay with us.” Part of me expected him to protest. I wanted him to tell me how much I needed him and that he had promised Father to stay with me.
He didn’t. Instead, he nodded and shut the gate behind him. It shrieked so loud that it pierced the air will shrill annoyance. As Ethan passed Darian, he stopped to stare at the dying man, as if absorbing every feature and detail of his pain. Then he walked to me and leaned on my shoulder. “Do you want anything?” he asked, whispering into my ear coldly.
“No,” I answered, clearing the word from my throat. “Tell everyone that I’m okay.” As he stepped away, I grabbed his leg. “Don’t tell them about Darian.” Perhaps he was seeking that secret from my voice. “And Father is the only one who can know where I am.”
He kicked to free himself, but I held on, squeezing his ankle so he would know my intention. “You can’t tell anyone where I’m hiding and Father can’t tell anyone. Make him promise.” I stared at my brother, willing the same thing with my eyes. “You must promise.”
His hesitation told me that I had chosen my words well. In his eyes, I thought I could read his intentions. He would not be able to keep my secret.
“I promise,” he said. He shook his leg free and left the cave, snatching his sword from against the tree where he’d left it.
“I’m not going home,” I said loud enough so there was no questioning my words. “You may tell everyone that.”
Ethan swiped a low branch with his blade before disappearing into the forest. As his footsteps faded, I wondered if this had been our last moment together. I shivered and knelt next to Darian. He was colder than the cave.
We needed a fire. Safer in the cave, we were still exposed to its chill, and I needed heat to mend Darian’s wounds. Taylor’s Ridge had always been known for course stones. Marked by their color, the stones were natural fire starters, and gave the mountain its crimson hues. Scattered remnants of the stones were plentiful in the cave. I needed only to choose the right rock and strike it against the metal of the gate.
Making sparks wasn’t as simple as I had been used to, but after many tries, and a small pile of shattered stones, I managed to build us a tiny fire. Its wavering flame ebbed between the cave and the forest, dancing with uncertainty in this hollow sanctuary. Once the fire displayed a healthy glow, I left Darian alone and ventured back into the trees to search for herbs that could save him.
Oh, how I longed for a cauldron. Healing would be much easier with a simple black pot. The forest north of Taylor’s Ridge offered an assortment of plants and small berries that could fill my days with brewing delight; however, without a means to boil, they were useless. In some instances, they were deadly without special preparation. I grabbed what I could find, returning to the cave entrance every few moments to add a branch to the fire and to offer Darian small leaves to chew to ease his pain. He hated the plants I gave him, and even spat one out in front of me, complaining of its taste.
Fortune eventually smiled upon us as the sun neared midday. I found a patch of dawnberries near the lake. Though not as refreshing as at first light, they would offer a meal that Darian could not complain of. I gobbled a handful myself before returning to the cave.
“Here,” I told him, handing him one round fruit. “Take this.”
He opened his eyes. They weren’t vacant, but still weak. “What is that?” he asked. He lifted his open palm to accept my offering.
“It’s a dawnberry. Eat it.”
He did as I ordered, then smiled as the fruit passed his lips. It was the first time I had seen him smile since meeting him in captivity. “It tastes like lemon and blueberry,” he said. He finished the bite.
I grinned back and handed him another. “I’ve never heard it described like that.” I ate one just to absorb his understanding of the flavor. Delicate tart touched my tongue and whispered of sweet bloom. I piled the remaining dawnberries in front of him and stood. “I’ll get some more.”
“No.” Darian lifted his able hand to stop me. “I’m thirsty. Is there water near?”
My face warmed. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it. Of course, he needed water; I knew that. I needed water. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I’ll bring some quickly.” I scrambled to my feet and shuffled back toward the forest. “I’m sorry.”
What was happening to me?
I couldn’t think right. Everything was mixing in a strange blur. Perhaps I was too fatigued and hungry. Whatever was wrong with me, I didn’t know how to heal it. I was acting foolishly, regardless. I decided to collect water from the stream, rather than risk exposure at the lake. We were outlaws from everywhere, and the simple act of fetching water felt like sedition in our current circumstances. When I reached the stream, my mind caught up to my folly. I didn’t have a way to carry water back to Darian.
I searched, frantically turning over stones and digging under bushes for something to carry water. There wouldn’t be anything; I knew that, but I still wasn’t thinking right. I looked up. Hovered above me was the branch of an Andelin tree. I smiled at my discovery. Andelin tree leaves grew wide and thick. Weaved together, they made strong baskets that were lighter than wood. My grin widened my cheeks as I plucked several leaves from the branch.
Another reason the leaves made such wonderful baskets was their ability to absorb toxins from the food or water they carried. When pressed to a wound, they pulled out the infection. I grabbed another handful of leaves as I thought about Darian’s arm and leg. I didn’t know how long he had been injured, and it was possible that I still might not have enough to heal him, but I could try. I had promised him that.
I knelt down and tore a few of the leaves into strips. Then I started to weave. I hadn’t woven a basket in years, but the memories and skills I had used as a child found their way to me. My crude basket wasn’t pretty, and it wasn’t round, but it could carry water, for a bit. I tore more leaves and carefully worked on the second layer.
Darian was sleeping when I returned to the cave. It hadn’t felt like a long while, but perhaps my efforts in building a basket had taken longer than I had realized. I knelt next to him and lifted his injured arm.
His wound was blistering and unnaturally violet. Seeing the cut in the firelight made my stomach heave. I peeled the torn remnants of Darian’s sleeve away from the wound and wiped his flesh with the bottom of my gown, revealing fresh blood. I snatched a leaf and pressed it to Darian’s arm.
Darian sighed loudly and smiled. His eyes lost contact briefly, and I thought he was lost when he closed his eyes, but then he opened and stared firm and focused into mine. “You don’t know how good that feels,” he said.
He was right. I had never needed andelin leaves on my skin. I understood their power from my years with the Fae, but had never known their touch. I lifted the leaf from his arm—it was bubbling and white on one side—and tossed it into the fire. With a burst of yellow, it popped and smoldered into a trail of thin white smoke. I pressed a new leaf onto Darian’s arm.
“I think you’ve been poisoned,” I told him, pressing the leaf firmly. “I’ve seen cuts before, but this looks different and unnatural. Without knowing what the poison was, I may not be able to heal you correctly.” I stopped staring at his torn sleeve and looked at his face. His eyes were blood soiled. Behind them, I saw the dark beauty they must have once been. “When were you injured?”
Darian rubbed his arm with his good hand. I moved mine away and let him press the leaf. “Thank you,” he whispered. He didn’t answer my question.
Tears fought to escape. I held them back. Memories swirled inside my head and tangled my thinking in a twisting vine of confusion. He was the villain, but I felt a need to care for him.
How could I? I wasn’t a faerie. I had no bond to this man except my spite and my anger—and a promise.
I swallowed the moment and glared back at him, angry for my oath.