Wilde's Meadow (Darkness Falls #3) (14 page)

I lean into him. “I feel like I just got off a loop-d-loop ride at a theme park.”

“A what?”

“Nothing. Never mind. I just feel dizzy.”

He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer. “Adrenaline.”

“And the smell. I hate it. Every time we kill them, the air smells worse.”

He takes my hand, dragging me to the horses. “We need to return to camp. The others need our protection. And I believe Muriel will need your company tonight.”

“I think I need her company, too.” But will she ever be able to forgive me?

Arland helps me mount Mirain, then he climbs Bowen. We ride side by side through the dead forest. Neither of us speaks. I’m exhausted from this battle, from using all my adrenaline, and yet I know my night is not over. Muriel will need someone to talk to, to console her. Given her brother’s fascination with me, I’m sure I’m the only person qualified.

Leaves crunch under the horses’ hooves. I move a branch from my path, and the wood creaks and echoes through the forest. Everything is peaceful. The sounds are crisp, like walking outside after a fresh snowfall. The stark silence amplifies every noise we make.

A faint cry comes from ahead. My insides twist worse than a minute ago; I know Muriel needs me. Am I ready to help her? Am I ready to admit I couldn’t save her brother?

Mirain picks up her pace, as if sensing what I need to do: get to Muriel. Bowen and Arland stay right beside, but he still doesn’t speak.

“
I am planning
.
And you are lost in yourself
.” Arland’s thoughts carry his warmth, ironing out an insignificant amount of my frustration.

Sighing, I spot the faint light of our fire. The whimpers grow louder. Brit, Flanna, and Rhoswen sit around Muriel. Flanna rubs the girl’s back as she rocks back and forth next to her brother’s still body. My sister offers Muriel a bowl with steam rising from it. The dish is probably filled with the same bland soup from earlier. Rhoswen sits in front of Muriel, speaking words I cannot hear.

What’s Rhoswen saying? She’s certainly experienced enough to know how Muriel feels. I’m glad Rhoswen is here. I’m glad I won’t have to do this alone.

“Kate,” Arland says. “We have arrived. I will take Mirain. You should call to your sister. Have her bring you some water, then you should change your clothes.”

“Why?” I slide from Mirain, then look down at myself. My suede pants are covered in blood. How am I alive? Tairb blood is poisonous. I’m not sure about that of the coscartha’s. “I don’t understand … ?”

Even in the dark, I see Arland’s face flush bright red. Why is
he
embarrassed?

He grabs the horses’ reins, eyebrows turned down. “When is the last time you … you know … had your—?”

Oh my God. My face radiates with heat. How did
I
not realize? This certainly explains my anger—or at least part of it—and it certainly explains my emotions and how they spiraled out of control. Now would be a great time to have modern conveniences, but there aren’t twenty-four hour pharmacies around here.

“What do women … do for these things?”

Arland grins. “Your sister had this issue at Willow Falls. Flanna helped her. I am sure she can help you, as well.”

“
Brit. We’re back. I need you, and I need water.
” An urge to hide behind a tree hits me hard. I haven’t bled through my clothes since first starting my period when I was twelve. Not that I could have prepared for this. There’s been no time to think about anything
normal
in such a long time.

“
Are you okay
?” Brit jumps to her feet, pats Muriel’s shoulder, then runs to the other side of the fire. My sister grabs a wooden bucket on her way to me. “
Please tell me you and Arland didn’t get hurt.
”

“
I started my period, Brit.
”

“
Oh.
” She stops, shakes her head, then returns to Flanna. Brit whispers something, then they both come this way.

Great. Now I’m everyone’s problem when I need to be someone’s solution.

Arland ties Bowen and Mirain to a nearby tree. He doubles back and stops just before reaching me. “I am going to meet with Cadman, discuss rotations, and try to communicate with the other groups again.”

I stare into his burning emeralds. How can he look at me this way? I’m a dirty, disgusting mess. I’m a failure to my people, to him, to myself.

Stepping closer, he takes my hands in his. “Do not be ashamed. This is part of being a woman, and considering we are in the middle of a war, beats the other possibility.”

Misunderstanding why I’m so upset, Arland kisses me then turns and leaves me with Brit and Flanna.

“Let’s get you cleaned up quickly. Muriel needs you.” Flanna holds out a bunch of tattered cloth rags. Her face is swollen and pink from crying. I expected sarcasm, but maybe the deaths have her thinking of Lann again.

One more reason I should have ended this war when I had the chance.

Chapter Ten

I keep my eyes on the forest, scanning for movement in the underbrush. Tonight is quiet. Too quiet. Glancing to my left, I check the others who are on post. Flanna has her bow drawn, arrow notched. She’s always on guard and usually the first to attack. Brit and Rhoswen stand to Flanna’s left, hands held behind their backs. They’re not as skilled as Flanna, but they are determined. I look to the right. Vanora and Muriel only have to keep their eyes to the rocks behind us, but neither of the women is of sound mind. Ever since Kent’s funeral, Muriel’s grief has left her shaky, pale, and her thoughts are so inwardly focused, she’d be lucky to spot a daemon if it stood directly in front of her. Vanora, on the other hand, is just a pain. All she cares about is making Perth’s life miserable. And she does a fantastic job of it.

As if our routine wasn’t bad enough.

Every day has been the same. Scout a safe location. Set up camp. Eat a meal with less food in it than the last. Stand guard around our perimeter only to have daemons move in and attack before anyone can get adequate sleep.

Dughbal’s creatures are supposed to rest as we do, but they’ve changed their habits. They seek us out no matter what time of day it is, driving us further away from The Meadows, deeper into the Baccain Forest. It seems everything Arland thought he knew about the daemons was just what they wanted us to think. Ovarti proved the tairbs think for themselves, and the 3:00 a.m. attacks prove they no longer sleep when we do.

They’re adapting.

So, we stick together, stay strong, and fight with all our hearts.

The air is putrid with the sulfuric smell of death; however, none of our own has been lost since Kent. The rot comes from those who deserve to die, but somehow it serves as another punishment for us. The few meals we do eat, usually come back up. No one can stomach this.

Especially me.

I’ve thrown up at least once a day since that first night we lost Kent, and once I go, everyone else seems to as well. Except Arland. He’s made of steel on the inside and the outside.

I love him for that.

Our people need him. He’s a solid foundation.

I need him, too.

We’ve been two people passing in the night. There’s been no time for love, no time for intimacy, although both our minds constantly dwell on moments we shared in the past, on our wedding night, on our last night in the bed at Willow Falls. I’m surprised he looks at me the same after what happened with my period. But like he said, I’m a woman. It’s normal.

Unfortunately, the most time I’ve spent with Arland has been during battle. I’ve grown fond of the fights, merely so I can hold his hand, look in his eyes, and feel his warmth next to me.

The guilt that brings me is nothing compared to how I’d feel if a soldier actually died in one of these battles, but for now, I don’t have to think about it.

“Are you ready to switch?” Dunn asks, placing his palm on my shoulder.

Disappointment ripples through me. I hoped Arland would take my place tonight, but I guess it’s not his turn. He wants us to rotate where we stand, who relieves us, what weapons we stand guard with. Arland is afraid the daemons might learn by watching, and at the same time, he wants them to watch. He doesn’t want to hide behind a concealment spell. Battle is what we need. I just don’t know how much longer we can keep it up.

“Yes,” I say, slipping my sword into its holster.

“Anything out of the ordinary?” Dunn asks.

I shake my head. “The silence is eerie tonight.”

He smiles. “Maybe their numbers are dwindling.”

“Maybe.” Though I doubt it. My visions showed an army of thousands coming to attack us, and there were only a few of us left to fight.

I reach my blanket and lie down. It’s still warm from Arland. Pressing my nose to the thin fabric, I inhale. His dewy scent settles my nerves. I close my eyes. Sleep is calling to me, draining every muscle in my body, tugging me down where I’d like to stay for a week. A month would be better.

“
Sleep well, my love.
” Arland’s thoughts drift into my mind, teasing my already enormous ache to be near him.

“
Be safe
.” As much as I want to see him, I don’t have the energy to seek him out, to stare at his beautiful face and be bathed in his love for me. And I don’t have the time to waste either.

This life sucks.

“Psst, Kate,” Rhoswen whispers.

If I won’t open my eyes for Arland, what makes Rhoswen think I’ll look at her? I’m tired. It’s bad enough the daemons don’t allow us to sleep. Placing my hands under my cheek, I squeeze my lids to show my defiance.

The corner of my blanket shifts, and someone presses their hand to my shoulder. “I know you wish to rest. I do too, but I have been thinking.”

I glare at her. “Rhoswen, please tell me this is important. Because the way I see it, we only have about thirty minutes to sleep.”

“This is important.” She yawns, covering her mouth with her hand. “Do you want to end this war?”

Brit groans. “Would you shut up? Of course we want to end this war. What the hell do you think we’ve been doing? Now, please, be quiet so we can get
some
rest before those idiotic beasts show up again.”

I sit up and spare a glance around the perimeter. If I’m going to be awake, I’m going to see my husband.

Arland paces between two trees, face turned out toward the Darkness, shoulders squared, hands clasped behind his back. Tonight he chooses no weapons either, just like Brit and Rhoswen.

Something is odd about this night.

“
Rhoswen has something she wants to share.
”

He stops midstride and smiles as though hearing my voice in his head brings him joy.

“
It did
.
That is the most you have said to me in weeks.
” His gaze finds mine, risking something we haven’t dared risk in the same amount of time we haven’t talked: Arland took his eyes off the forest. “
I was beginning to believe Kent’s death affected you the way it has his sister
.”

I cringe. Have I really been so secluded and unfocused, so hungry yet refusing to eat or drink?

“
You have.
” Arland stares through me. “
Should I come over?
”

“
I … we can’t risk it.
” My throat constricts. I feel as though I’m seeing him for the first time, all his strength and caring, all his willingness to lead and love. I can’t take my eyes off him, yet I know my concentration needs to be on Rhoswen, or sleep. Turning to face the blond Ground Dweller before me, I stifle a sob threatening to break free of my chest.

She’s not even looking at me. Her eyes are on the forest beyond Perth. Searching is so engrained in us that even when it’s not our turn, we still watch. We’re careful.

“You know I want to end the war, so what is it?”

“Do you remember what I told you before you had me beaten by my master?”

Swallowing hard, I shake my head. If it were anyone besides Rhoswen saying this, I would know the person is mad at me, but I’ve learned she’s just blunt. Never sugar-coating anything for anyone.

“I only remembered now. I do not even know why I said it back then. Something came over me … .” She pulls her knees to her chest, then rests her chin between them.

“Seriously, Rhoswen, spit it out.” Brit growls.

Lack of sleep has ruined my sister’s good attitude.

Rhoswen rolls her eyes. “The only way Darkness will ever be defeated is for all the worlds to be opened and for
all
people to fight together. We are missing something. We have fought for weeks and made no progress.”

She turns to me and gets on her knees, taking my hands in hers. “The other groups all suffer the same horrible days and nights as we do. We are severely outnumbered. The daemons could obliterate us if they so wished.”

I tense. Rhoswen doubts me, doubts us and this plan. I think. We’ve overpowered the daemons every night with our magic. They may have stronger numbers, but they cannot resist our fire. We are being tested. Weakened. Dughbal must want to see if we
can
fight before he marches in here
to
fight. But still, Rhoswen has a point. We aren’t any closer to ending this war than before we left Willow Falls. Something isn’t right. Something doesn’t make sense. I pat my armor, feeling for the odd gift my mother gave me at base an eon ago. “
Arland, I think we’re out of options.
”