Wilde's Meadow (Darkness Falls #3) (21 page)

“Kate is powerful.”

He eyes me warily. “So she is.”

“Sir. The Scouts have returned,” someone with a tinny, little voice calls from the entry of the cave.

I turn around. A short, heavy-set man, just as rocky of a build but not nearly the size of Huffie, stands in the doorway, sword in hand. Flanna beside him, smiling. She’s covered from head to toe in filth and has a wild look about her eyes.

Arland gets up and offers me his hand. “You ready to fight?”

Brit scoots aside, and I grab hold of him. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Nice to see you two again,” Flanna says, the white from her teeth the only “clean” I see on her body. She points at the short man oddly covered in the same amount of muck next to her. “This is Tarik Rocktracker. He arrived here with hundreds of his brothers from Draodín, but many did not survive The Battle of the Crossing Caves.”

The implications of that battle are disastrous. I don’t even want to ask, but I’m sure I’ll learn one day.

“Tarik, this is my cousin, and son of High Leader Maher, Arland Maher, and this is his bhean chéile—or wife—Katriona Maher.”

The Bheagan sheaths his small sword then clasps his hands behind his back, tipping his head. “Great tales have been told about the two of you, but you have a lot to prove. Many have died, my family members included. Where have you been?”

Tarik shifts his gaze from me to Arland, puffy bags around his ice-blue eyes nearly as large as his round, porous nose. I’m sure everyone was concerned about me and Arland, or rather if we were ever coming back. I imagine plenty of the beings from other worlds thought we gave up on Encardia, but it was never our intention to be gone for so long. We didn’t even know we were … .

Arland stays still, shoulders squared, staring at Tarik. “We were trapped in time, and you are correct, we do have much to prove. Rather than standing here discussing things which cannot be changed, tell me what news the Scouts have carried back to us.”

He turns and walks swiftly down the incline, grumbling under his breath, and the three of us follow. A small group forms around the cave exit, and they all stare.

“Grumpy little thing, is he not?” Flanna laughs, wrapping her dirty, crusty arm around mine, drawing my attention to those next to me. Even her clothes are caked in red clay. “Vanora made great friends with them. I believe I understand why our world was closed to theirs. They are not a nice people.”

“Why are you covered in mud?”

She looks down herself and huffs. “Only way to hide without you and Arland around to conceal us.”

Guilt fills every corner of my body. “Flanna?”

My friend glances at me.

“How many people died?”

Hugging me closer, she takes a deep breath. “A lot. More than I can count. We had to leave bodies behind, so many of those who are unaccounted for may still be alive—”

“Who?”

Arland laces his fingers with mine and squeezes, clearly engaged in my conversation with Flanna.

“I do not even know how many we started with because of how we started, but no one you knew, or anyone who was close to you.”

That doesn’t make their death any easier, any less sad.

“Sir,” Cadman calls from behind us. “I need to inform you of what has happened since we returned.”

Tarik mutters even more and keeps moving forward. The rest of us continue after him.

“Catch up, Cadman. There is no time to stop. Tarik has news we need.” Arland smiles, staring after the man.

Something tells me proving ourselves to Bheagans isn’t as easy as just being here and being powerful. We have to kiss up a little, but Arland seems to be enjoying himself.

“
Arland
!
Katriona
!” Tristan runs away from an unusually sized—and colorful—group of people. They are built the same as us, just thinner. Some are taller or shorter, but their skin … oranges and blues, greens and reds.

“
They come from Mhara. You cannot trust them, no matter how much like us they seem. Although Mharans can survive out of water, they prefer to live in it. Creatures of the sea are opportunistic. Do not forget that.
” Arland’s warning doesn’t come with a scowl or even a touch; he maintains a safe distance from me, calm, unwavering.

He’s showing strength, leadership. He always does.

“
Opportunistic how
?”

Glancing at the beings who look like they belong on a coral reef, Arland narrows his eyes. “
A meal to them is a meal.”

I shudder.

“I am so happy to see you.” Tristan fists his hand over his heart, interrupting my revelation about our cannibal comrades. But I guess the Mharans aren’t the same species as us, so they aren’t truly monsters … .

Attempting not to stare, I place my full attention on Tristan. The young soldier’s slight smile doesn’t match the emphasis of his words. The eager look he had before his first Scouting mission has been hardened by months of fighting. He’s grown into a warrior.

“It’s good to see you, too, Tristan,” I say.

The Bheagan stomps his foot. “Share the information with them.”

The Draíochtan warrior glares at Tarik, and Flanna clears her throat, softening the look on Tristan’s face … but not before he clenches his fists. Everything about him and Flanna is rigid, and everything about the small man is smug. Who’s in charge here?

“We made it back into The Meadows. There are no daemons in the city,” he says.

“And our people? Have they survived?” Arland’s face is a blank slate, but I know on the inside he’s holding out hope for our people to be okay.

Tristan grins. “Yes. Quite a few have, sir. They should never have remained there.”

“Why did they?” I ask.

Arland and Flanna both look at me, their eyes sympathetic.

“The same reason my family died, Kate: Dufaigh,” Flanna says, no hint of anger in her voice.

Tristan puffs out his chest, clasping his hands behind his back. “There was a woman there; she was a Communicator and knew living underground is the best way—”

“Cairine … .” Arland says, slightly breathless.

Sometimes I forget how close he and my aunt were.

“I believe that is what the others said her name was, but she—”

“Died.” I wish I could connect to Tristan the way I do Brit and Arland, but I’m not sure how. We don’t need to rehash bad memories. Not today.

”She was on water duty and never returned. How did you know?” Tristan’s shoulders slump, and his hands fall limp at his sides. He thought he had great news, and he does, just not
new
news.

“I’m related, and she and Arland were close.”

Tarik pulls out his sword, which is more the size of a dagger. My sister was right when comparing them to dwarves, but only in height. He’s not overly fat, his teeth and ears aren’t pointy, and he doesn’t look mean; though he does have long red hair with gray streaks in it hanging from his head and face. At least Draíochtans are the same size as humans; life would have been miserable for me on Earth if I looked anything like an elf from the North Pole. “The other news, young one.”

“We have managed to corral the remaining daemons. Brice and Saidear came up with an idea: force them all toward one location and put a group of us in the middle … make them think our numbers are diminished. We have never all gone into a fight at the same time, so they do not know how strong or weak we truly are.” Tristan waves his arm as though he’s calling someone over. “Ailos believes the fewer we have in the center, the better, but he does not know where the big army should hide while the daemons move toward the battlegrounds.”

“Deadly … .” Arland rubs his chin and paces back and forth between us and the fire. “But this is a wise plan. Kate has already seen who will be in the center of the final battle.”

“Seen?” Tarik peers up at me. “You mean to say she is a woman of prophecy?”

I don’t think he means
the
woman of
a
prophecy, but more that I’m a Seer, a realization Arland has wanted to prevent our people from thinking.

“Not in the same way most are gifted. She sees the same time period over and over, but with different surroundings, people, and outcomes. Her most recent vision named Saidear, Tristan, Flanna, Cadman, Brit, Perth, as well as her and me. There were many others in that future, but not named.” Arland continues pacing, but he’s calculating, taking inventory of the men and women outside the cave, trying to remember how many were inside, rehashing the details of so many of my visions.
Ten horses here at camp
.
Thirty Draíochtans in the cave
.
Forty-two soldiers outside
.
Twelve visible Mharans
.
No idea how many Gaothans
.
Brit died
.
I died
. Fear courses through him, matching the panic bubbling inside me.

I don’t want to let him or my sister go.

“
I will find a way so you do not have to let us go
.” He meets my eyes, for only a moment, then he looks at Tristan. “How far away are the daemons, and how many are there?”

Tarik steps forward, a look of relief on his face. “That is what the boy failed to tell you. Shameful how young your fighters are, Leader Maher.”

Arland stops and drops any pretense of friendliness, kneeling beside the man. “Shameful would be not to have fighters at all, Bheagan. Would you prefer we lay down our weapons and die—?”

“Thank you, sir.” Tristan closes his eyes. “Ailos says he is happy you have returned. Tarik here has treated everyone with an utter lack of respect.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Who’s Ailo—?”

“He merely points out the obvious.” Vanora struts out of the cover of the trees, three men about the same size as Tarik gliding next to her. For being as small as they are, they move with power and grace. “However, Tristan’s service is not shameful, rather his training.”

The Bheagans snicker and all rush off toward the fire.
Grumpy
follows.

“Why, Arland and Katriona, come back to join in on the fun?” She’s changed, too. Not nearly as afraid of everything that moves, not nearly as nervous with a sword. Vanora slides a bloody blade through a leather hook attached to her belt. “Or were you checking in to see if we had all died so you could go back to wherever you have been?”

“Can it, Vanora. You may be of Leader blood, but you cannot talk to Arland or Kate that way. Unless you wish to die.” Flanna snorts, rolling her blue eyes. “Considering how upset you become when you are around
Perth
, maybe death is the outcome you are hoping for tonight?”

Vanora’s lip quivers, but she turns up her chin and storms off to sit by the fire.

“Serves her right.” My redheaded friend shakes her head. “The woman punched Perth when he and Rhoswen returned from Mhara—”

Speaking of Perth … . “Where are Perth and Rhoswen?”

Tristan coughs, lurching forward with a big grin on his face. He’s covering up a laugh.

Propping her hands on her hips, Flanna joins in with him. “Probably off staring into each other’s eyes.”

“Staring into each other’s eyes?” The last time I checked, Perth couldn’t care less about Rhoswen. Now he’s … . “What do you mean?”

“Apparently the two are in love, but do not tell
them
this. They will deny it until the end of their days.” This time, Tristan doesn’t try to hide the humor. He doubles over with fits of giggles, like a schoolgirl, diminishing some of the hardness he formed while we were gone.

“Enough,” Arland commands, voice loud and firm, bringing the attention of everyone upon us. He turns around, facing the roaring fire surrounded by stunned Bheagan men. “Vanora, leave the people of Draodín and go find Perth and Rhoswen. Bring them to me. Tristan, I spoke with Brice earlier. Where is he?”

Tristan’s cheeks turn white, the humor draining from his face. “He and Saidear are setting up the wards so the daemons go where we want.”

Arland turns on his heel. “And where is that?”

“The wheat fields between the Baccain Forest and The Meadows.”

Arland nods. “Speak to him. Allow Brice to finish, but make sure they come right back here.”

“Yes, sir.” Tristan trots over to the group of Mharans, then they huddle together in conversation.

“Listen up”—Arland marches toward the center of our small clearing, commanding everyone’s attention near the fire—”You are worn, you are tired, and you have fought bravely, but this war is not yet over … .”

Soldiers file out of the mouth of the cave. Making their way over the rocks and the path, they take seats on the ground around him. Gary and Mr. Tanner stand on either side of me, and my sister walks over then sits by my feet, wrapped up in a blanket, looking like she just got up from a nap and not her deathbed.

“We have been gone a long time while you have fought and lost lives, and for that we have little explanation. However, with the plans of our own brothers and sisters, and with the unity of all the worlds, we can defeat this army.”

Everyone watches him, following his hands as he waves them through the air, staring at his boots wearing divots into the earth. Arland walks up to Cadman, holding his gaze with compassion, frustration, and gentleness all somehow worked into his features. “This forest has provided safety while we were gone, yes?”