Wilde's Meadow (Darkness Falls #3) (33 page)

Oh my God. “You’re a shifter.”

I back away from him, trying to map out the safest route to the door. “What did you do?”

Fire rages in me. Sparking at my fingertips, it rushes up my arms, but I resist the urge to allow the power to flow freely. “What does your kind hope to gain from killing all of us? There’s no god to promise you new life, and that was a lie anyway.”

”I am not going to harm you. I, alone, no longer wish to harm
anyone
. My kind was wrong to involve ourselves in a war between the gods. We are a foolish breed and belong in our hell. Your Leader Maher is a good person, better than anyone I have ever controlled. He knew this would occur. Plans were in place for it, but you do not have much time.”

The daemon moves closer, confusing me to the very core. He speaks like an intelligent creature, almost like he
is
Leader Maher, but how can I trust him after he and his kind slaughtered so many of us? Shifters killed Lann and Enid—one nearly killed me. Every advance this being makes, I back away two steps, until I meet the wall.

He bends and slides his hand inside his boot. “I took this from its hiding place as soon as we arrived. Most of your husband’s prophecy is here, as well as where you can find the real Leaders.” The daemon hands me a piece of yellow paper. “If you do not run, Dufaigh will have full control of this world, and all its inhabitants will turn against you.”

Shaking, I take the prophecy and clutch it in my hand. “You said most of his prophecy is in here. Where is the rest?”

“I do not know, but you must leave.”

“What will people think? How can I leave them while … while your kind is here?”

“You must. Dufaigh will call you a deserter, a liar, weak—whatever he can come up with to strip you of the heroics you displayed for this world—and all the Leaders will agree. The only way to prove yourself is to separate the true Leaders from those like me.”

I swallow hard, remembering how much blood I lost when the shifter left my body. “How will I heal their wounds?”

“We have a spot here”—he points to the center of his chest—”When you find your people, touch our tentacles in this spot, and we will separate without causing harm. Once your loved ones are released, drive your swords through us.”

“You want me to … hurt your family?”

“My kind does not view family the way this world does. Whether you kill them or allow them to go free makes no difference. We will all return to Daigre and suffer in that miserable world through eternity. We deserve it.”

Footsteps echo down the hall, followed by humming.
Vanora
. A door opens, then clicks closed. She must be going into one of the rooms to rest or take care of other wounded soldiers.

The shifter looks over his shoulder. “You are running out of time.” He holds out his elbow. “Take my arm. I will lead you out and behind the house. Your horse is tied up back there.”

Detaching from this wall is dangerous. If he’s lying, he can take me over and Arland won’t be here to protect me. If the shifter isn’t lying, Dufaigh might find a way to kill me or cast me aside. Both have dangers, but only one prevents me from finding Arland … .

I hook my arm through the being’s and hang my head, mourning the way Dufaigh probably expects me to, then keep my gaze on the paper in my hands.

“Thank you,” the daemon says.

I look up into the emerald eyes resembling High Leader Maher’s, resembling Arland. “For what?”

“Trusting me.”

I don’t dare tell this shifter there’s only a thin veil of trust between us. He might be helping by warning me about Dufaigh, but the sudden switch in his character is suspicious. “You’re welcome.”

We walk through the hall and find Dufaigh asleep in the rocking chair by the roaring fire. He’s snoring. The daemon opens the door, then we pass through without being noticed.

I’m leaving again. Going out into the world to fight against Darkness. Hopefully this is the last time, and hopefully this time I’ll come home with Arland.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The daemon helps me onto Mirain’s back. She stomps and snorts, clouds of white escaping her nostrils. Wrapping her leather reins around my palm, I grab the saddle horn and glance at my new ally, making sure to keep the prophecy in my hand. I’m not letting this go until I find Arland.

“What will you tell Dufaigh?” As long as I get away, I don’t really care what the daemon tells Dufaigh.

“Mourning drove you away in search of answers.” The shifter offers me his hand, such a human action, such a Leader Maher action. “He will be thrilled.”

I close my eyes so I can see his true form, to prove the words match reality. His white core radiates, pulsing brighter and brighter, and his black tentacles stretch out and loop around his solid center. He’s like a gaseous planet with multiple rings. Taking his hand, I squeeze. “Thank you.”

“No thanks required. The centuries we have spent suffering will never be repayment enough for what we have done to this world.” He pats Mirain’s hindquarters and smiles. “Now go, before you lose your opportunity. I sense Dufaigh’s rousing.”

Nudging my heel into Mirain’s left side, I turn her around then nod once more at the daemon.

He waves.

“Let’s go, girl.”

I ride Mirain hard through the outskirts of town, pushing her faster and faster until the earthen homes on either side of me look like nothing more than blurs of dirt and dead grass. Her brilliant white coat glows with warm, comforting magic. Lowering my torso, I push harder in her stirrups. The cold wind battering my face means nothing; I’m going to find Cadman and the others, and then we’re going to find Arland.

Hints of burning death fill the air, turning my stomach upside down, but I push through. Nothing can stop me now. Not daemons. Not Dufaigh. I will not allow anything to stand in the way of my happiness.

The further we travel, the stronger the sulfuric smell becomes. Orange flames flicker between the dense, black trees, indicating my arrival to the field where I fought Dughbal. Fire licks the tall pines along the edge of my path, and fog settles thick and low to the ground, swirling around me and my horse as we cross into the clearing. She hesitates when we near the line of flames, but I nudge her to the left, riding her around the danger.

Searching for Cadman, Perth, and Rhoswen, I look into the meadow of wheat grasses and spot them a few hundred yards away. Each mounted on a horse stomping beneath them, they lift their head. I catch a glimmer of a smile on all of them. Somehow, out here, all of our differences disappear and we are a team, a family.

We’ve been through hell. We’ve battled and lost. We’ve battled and won. Each of us views the outcomes differently. Each of us suffers in our own way. But no matter what, we endure it all together.

Without instruction, Mirain gallops toward them—she, too, recognizes the bond. Darting to our left to avoid the fire, she jumps over smoldering daemon carcasses and lands with the beauty and grace of a hurdle horse.

“You made it,” Cadman says, the corners of his mouth lifting into a beaming smile, deepening his wrinkles.

Mirain stops, standing in front of the others as a warrior would before leading her army to battle.

“Did you have any doubt?” I ask, breathing heavily. “Where is everyone else?”

“There was insufficient time to evacuate; I warned the few I found.”

“You knew High Leader Maher was a shifter. I’m going to guess you knew Arland isn’t dead, too?”

He nods.

“You want him back as much as I do?”

Again, he nods.

“So why didn’t you agree with me, and why don’t you tell me what I have to do?”

“I do not know what you must do, only that you have to figure this out on your own.” Cadman reaches inside his pocket, then pulls out Brit’s sandwich bag.

I pat my pants. They’re empty. “Where did you get—?”

“I took it,” Perth says. “When High Leader Maher walked into the room, I knew you were about to tell him about the prophecy, and something about that did not sit well with me. So when we left, I snatched it from your pocket.”

“But how?”

He smiles. “I can tell when we are not wanted.”

Realization rifles through me. “Oh. When you bumped me?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know?” I ask.

Perth shakes his head, then glances at Cadman. “We were clueless until we met Cadman in the hall. He said we were not to speak a word other than to tell my father about Arland and then to come with him.”

“So here we are.” Rhoswen sighs. “We have read over your sister’s letter multiple times. We have some things we believe we understand, but in the end, it looks like you are the one who has to remember something. Not us.”

Remember. I’m beginning to hate that word. Over and over, Griandor has drilled it into me. My sister’s letter resonated on my need for memory. Even Cadman told me to remember what I love the most before we fought in this very spot. “Do you know what I’m supposed to remember?”

“Did the shifter deliver Arland’s prophecy?” Cadman asks, deflecting my question.

I don’t think he’s giving in any time soon, so I unwrap the brown leather strap from my palm and release the paper beneath. “He did.”

Rhoswen leans forward. “What does it say?”

Perth swats her shoulder.

“I haven’t read it yet.” I look down, unwilling to open the prophecy with so many people around.

Cadman nudges his horse, moving closer to me, then stops him beside Mirain. “I am under the impression Arland’s prophecy combined with your sister’s will give you the insight you need to understand.” He pats my hand, then gives me the bag. “We will allow you to read them alone while we set up camp.”

“Thank you.”

The three of them turn and ride up a small hill, then stop under the tree where I killed Dughbal.

I open the paper with trembling hands, one fold at a time. Curly script, written with runny ink, lines the parchment.

Forever a Keeper of Light is he, for their pure love will be the key. Hold her in his arms he must, or this world turns to dust. Power and protection are her gifts, the end to Darkness’ reign will be swift. Twisted are this pair’s fates, but a halfling’s sacrifice will ensure they never separate. Darkness will fall, but coveted light will meet her wall. If Encardia is to be guarded from evil, she must seek out love that has no equal. When she remembers what she’s learned, his location will be discerned. Light’s joy is the only way, for Encardia to see the light of—

Another rambling and incomplete, broken-up poem just like Brit’s. And another thing telling me to remember. What have I learned? I already know Arland is my Keeper, my Coimeádaí. Mom told me he and I together are the key; although I had no idea
how
key our connection truly meant at the time. Magic is my gift. Darkness is dead. And now, there’s another mention of the sacrifice. I don’t know what a halfling is. But the only sacrifice I can think of is my sister’s.

My heart hurts. “Brit, if you can hear me, thank you,” I say, turning my face toward the sky. But Arland’s not here. So maybe her giving up her life didn’t work? Or is that why he’s just hidden? I’ll have to keep thinking over that one.

Mirain snorts and shakes her head, gear jingling like we’re riding fast again.

“It’s okay, girl.” I look up from the note and rub between her white ears, then return to reading.

If Encardia is to be guarded from evil, she must seek out love that has no equal.

Dufaigh must be the remaining evil and the reason why light has not returned, and it’s clear I have to find Arland. That line guarantees he’s alive, but his prophecy doesn’t tell me much I don’t already know. I’ll have to ask Cadman about the halfling, but there has to be more. What am I missing?

I open the bag containing Brit’s paper, then unfold my sister’s last words.

Your life you live in shadows cast, by siblings who are meant to last. Gods and mortals mixed to create
—

Mixed
? Gods and mortals created my family. Morgandy Dohmnhaill is a goddess and also one of my great grandmothers. I’m part goddess, part human. Brit was, too. She has to be the halfling. Why did she give up her life? Was it for Arland or … ?