by Krystal Wade
I point toward the daemons. “Go, attack them … use fire!”
The beings transform from pieces of the forest into brilliant forms of blue fire. They dart around us, strike through our enemies, and light them in flames. The smell of burning flesh filling the air is almost impossible to inhale, but I push through.
I walk toward the hound still dazed by the magic, yet still snarling at my sister. Raising the hilt of the sword over my head, I gather all my strength, then stab the blade into his back.
He falls and lets out a loud growl as he dies.
Brit and I meet eyes.
“Get back on the horse.” My voice resonates with confidence.
I rush back to Arland, then take his hand in mine. “I love you, too.”
From the corner of my eye, I see him smile.
Our flames burn even brighter. I’m surer now than ever that we are going to be okay. I let go of Arland’s hand, so we can march side-by-side into the next wave of daemons. Together, we strike and kill them with ease. The golden light swirls around us, but our bodies glow blue. The fire from our swords transfers into the daemons, allowing us to advance deeper and deeper into the army.
Every single one of these monsters will die tonight. I no longer fear them. I feel no urge to retreat, just the urge to kill the beasts that have destroyed my world, my father, Arland’s mother, and so many others.
Big, black hounds lunge at us from all directions, teeth as long as my fingers protruding from their foaming jowls. The sprites take down most of the hounds in mid-air, before they can attack us. The few that get through the magic, Arland and I slaughter with our swords. More arrows fly over our heads and aid us, but they are not as efficient as Arland and I are together.
I slay the last daemon with my sword, slicing straight through its neck. I stand looking, listening for the next beast to attack, but the coscarthas have stopped shrieking from the fire, the hounds have all stopped jumping at us.
Arland and I are left standing in the middle of the forest, in a single patch of sunlight, among hundreds of burning daemon carcasses.
“We should leave now,” Arland says, triggering my vision again.
I push him behind me as a hound lunges out of the tall grasses to attack us from the right. My sword impales the creature’s rib cage from underneath as it tries to kill Arland. Fire erupts inside the hound, effectively taking its life.
I turn to Arland, proudly. “Now, we can go.”
He cups my face in his hands. “You have now saved my life twice. I thought it was supposed to be the other way around.”
“As long as we’re both safe, does it matter?”
Everyone stares at us, mouths open, eyes wide.
Arland helps me onto Mirain’s back, then pats her on the hindquarters. “Take her home, girl.”
Brit wraps her arms around me. “You have a lot of explaining to do,” she says.
I grasp her hand and squeeze. “As soon as we get somewhere safe.”
Fighting something so evil, so vile, and knowing we overcame it, is exciting. No one was injured or killed, other than the creatures that needed to die.
I look over my shoulder to the scene of my first battle; the patch of daylight turns back to Darkness.
We have a lot more fighting to do.
Chapter Twenty
Arland and I steal glances at one another while we ride in silence. I’m happy my mom and Brit are here, but right now, I want nothing more than some alone time with him.
We stop in front of what appears to be more woods.
“Where are we?” Brit asks, teeth chattering.
“Nochtann.” Flanna mutters the magical word, causing the stable doors to swing open.
Looking over my shoulder, I watch Brit’s eyes widen.
She sucks in a breath. “Cool.”
I return my gaze forward. “That’s just the beginning.”
She hugs me tighter.
We ride the horses into their stalls. I help Brit down, then slide from Mirain. “Thank you, Mirain. Next time, try not throwing my sister from your back.”
Brit brushes Mirain with me. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
My sister takes my hands in hers. “For loving me enough to save my life.”
“Killing the daemon was nothing.” Although it was something; it was scary, that’s what it was.
Tears well in Brit’s bloodshot eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. “I’m not talking about right now, but thank you for that, too. I’m talking about weeks ago, when you didn’t know what you were saving me from. You willingly gave up your life to save me.”
“I would do it again.” I wrap my arms around her.
“I love you, Kate.”
“I love you, too.”
Arland walks into Mirain’s stall, then stands next to me.
Sniffling, I step back. “Brit, this is Arland.”
She wipes her cheeks, but tears keep falling. “Hi, Arland. You better be good to my sister.”
He smiles at her. “Of course, I will be good to her.”
Arland puts his arm around my waist, his warmth radiating through me. “Kate, I will take care of the horses. You should spend time with your family.”
I turn from my sister into Arland’s embrace. He rests his hands on my lower back and clasps his fingers.
“Thank you for doing this,” I say.
He squeezes me against him. “You are welcome, but I did not have much to do with it. The magic was all you.”
I stare, deeply, into his emerald eyes. “You had everything to do with it.”
Arland laughs, kisses my cheek, then we separate.
It’s hard to walk away from him, but I do.
The onslaught of hugs, laughter, and tears my mom and Brit have for me seems never-ending. The three of us don’t speak; we just keep our heads buried on each other’s shoulders.
There are tons of things I need to ask my mom—things I’m upset by—but I’m just so happy she’s here.
She wipes her red nose, looks at Arland in the stalls, then at me, smiles, then hugs me again … Mom’s a bigger wreck than I’ve been.
Arland finishes with the horses, and our eyes meet. He joins Flanna and Cadman in an acknowledgment that my reunion will not end soon, and they begin a conversation.
Now that he’s seen why Arland protects me, I’m sure Cadman has about a million questions. Arland doesn’t protect me just because he’s my Coimeádaí; he protects me for love, and for my magic.
He is more than likely instructing Cadman not to tell the others about what he witnessed this evening, which reminds me … .
I step back from Brit and Mom. “Arland?”
He stops talking and hurries to me. Taking my hands in his, Arland wears a look that says he’d desperately like to run away with me right now. “Is everything okay?”
“We were glowing when we passed the guards at the perimeter. Should you speak with them, too?”
“I will have Lann send them a message to speak to me as soon as they return from their posts.”
Brit wraps her arm around my neck, interrupting Arland and me. “You were on fire, Kate, not glowing!”
“She wasn’t on fire.” Mom shakes her head. “Her essence was filled with an old magic that’s been sleeping for a long time. In all my months researching what it was the Seer meant about you being Light to Darkness, I never dreamed you would actually be Light.” She clasps her hands in front of her, her voice full of pride.
Without releasing Arland’s hand, I turn to face my mom. “Arland said something similar, but I don’t think I am the Light, Mom. For some reason, the Light has chosen to listen to me.”
Her gaze darts between Arland and me. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. I’m very happy to see you have met Arland, son of my dear friend Kimball. The two of you were impressive out there. Now, where is Brad?”
My moment of happiness is gone; my shoulders slump. “He’s not well, Mom. The coscarthas
attacked him.”
A crease forms in the center of her forehead. “Tell me what happened.”
Mom’s facial expressions range from anger to concern, compassion to intrigue, and finally to love while I explain the events from the time I’ve been here. When I finish, she remains quiet for a few moments, then snaps her fingers. “We’ll have to try healing him using old magic. It’s not going to be easy, if you don’t know how to control it, but we will do everything we can.”
In the few minutes she’s been listening to me, she comes up with a plan to heal Brad’s wounds and get him home. I understand why Arland said she was one of Encardia’s greatest Healers. “I hope it works, Mom. You know, the first morning we were here, Brad said he didn’t believe we’d traveled into a different world, and he wanted to escape back home. It’s funny how he knew we had to escape here, but he didn’t really believe we had gone anywhere.”
“I know this is hard for you, dear. When Brad formed his attachment to you, I knew it was going to be difficult getting him to let you go, but I never imagined him actually coming here with you. If I had known now was the time, I would have been there, Kate,” Mom says, her voice pleading for forgiveness.
“It’s okay, Mom. What was wrong with you?” I remember how pale and weak she was the night before we left. Gary fed her crackers and water, while I held a bucket for her to throw up in.
“Nothing you need to worry yourself with. I’m fine.” She’s never been one to allow people fuss over her.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay, but I don’t think it will be easy to convince Brad to go through the portal and leave me behind forever. I know somehow I’ll have to do it.” I’m trying to convince myself, more than I am them. Brad being out of my life for good will cause me a lot of pain, but won’t be anything compared to what it will do to him.
Mom hugs me again. “We will talk more about this later.”
“That would be nice.” All the years I thought my mom was not compassionate, she was actually hiding my truth from me. I don’t know why, but I’m sure she had her reasons. I’m almost afraid to find out. Every time I learn something new, my future becomes more difficult.
“How it is you’ve managed to rope such a hot guy already?” Brit’s always been a girl who gets straight to the point.
Arland and I blush.
I dig my toe into the dirt. “Umm.”
“I want details!”
This isn’t exactly a conversation I want to have in front of my mom … or Arland. I give Brit a pointed look, bringing her questioning to a halt.
She squeezes my hand. “Later?” Brit whispers.
“Maybe … if you’re lucky.” I hug her once more, then take Arland’s hand again.
Joining Cadman and Flanna, we lead our group down into the base.
Cadman’s gaze bores into me.
I look back at his eyes full of hope. At the bottom of the steps, he smiles as he separates from the rest of us.
I pray he does not speak of what he saw to anyone.
Lann walks out of the communications room. “That was extraordinarily fast.”
Arland glances down at me with pride. “It was an extraordinary trip.”
Butterflies. He’s giving me butterflies.
“What did you discover about the daemons from the woods earlier?” All pride disappears from Arland’s face.
“Ogilvie and Saidear searched for an hour, but discovered nothing to track them by,” Lann says.
“This is bad news.”
“The spell has been recast over the perimeter.”
Arland stiffens. “When? We just killed at least a thousand daemons inside the perimeter.”
“Dunn, Tristan, Saidear, and Ogilvie are still out now. It took a lot more men than I expected, but they should return soon. We will continue searching for the three that got away.”
“Where did the spell fail?” Arland asks.
“Near the river.”
He rubs his chin. “And that was the only located failure?”
“Yes.”
“I am aware I instructed you to bring the soldiers in, but I have changed my mind. After dinner, send everyone available out for watch duty. Cadman should remain inside to relieve you.”
“Yes, sir.” Lann tips his head in my mom and Brit’s direction. Dark locks of hair fall in front of his eyes. “I see you made it through the portal.”
“Yes.”
He eyes Mom and Brit, while Arland explains how we got through the portal and how we battled the daemons. When he finishes, Lann bounds back into the communications room.
“Report back to me as soon as the soldiers are in place,” Arland calls, voice riddled with concern.
“I will, sir.”
Mom stares after him. “Did a Concealment spell break?”
Arland nods. “The first time in twenty years. A large population of daemons has formed between us and the Gorm Mountains—”
“How large?” she asks.
“Larger than what we battled tonight.”
Mom shakes her head, but doesn’t respond. I cannot imagine what all this must be like for her. She hasn’t been here since Dad died. She never saw Encardia in Darkness.
Arland leads us down the hall, but I stop at the door before we enter the kitchen and look up at him.
“Am I still glowing?”
“No. Do not worry. I will not allow Perth to discover who you are.”
“Perth Dufaigh?” Mom asks, with a hint of caution.
“Yes, Mrs. Wilde, Perth Dufaigh is here. Were you and Mr. Wilde aware of the trade?” Arland asks.
She gasps. “We were not officially made aware of the trade before we left. We knew it would happen, but why is he here?” Her voice is smooth, composed.
“Do you know how it turns out?” Arland asks the question that means more to our future than anything else in the world.
A sympathetic look crosses Mom’s face.
“Not now, Arland.” She obviously knows why he wants to know. There are a lot of things my mom knows that we want to hear, that we need to hear.
“His father put him here as a reminder of what he took from Arland,” I tell her.
Mom grits her teeth. “That sounds like Dufaigh.”
Pushing through the kitchen door, we find Enid serving dinner to the children.
The other night, over meal preparations, I got her story from Flanna. Enid and her family lived about a day’s hike from here, through the forest, in a little stone cottage built into the side of a hill. Her husband fished the dying river; their life was quiet, simple. It had been their intention to avoid the war, and they had been doing just that for twenty years, but the daemons eventually found them.
No one knows how she managed to escape. She couldn’t speak about the tragedy, other than how her family died. The children were murdered first, while Enid and her husband were forced to watch. They pleaded with the daemons, but the beasts used their poisoned claws to poke the children, over and over again. The deadly liquid delivered a slow and painful death to the two eight-year-olds. Upon their final breath, the coscarthas inhaled something from the children’s mouths, then moved on to Enid’s husband.
After watching their children tortured to death, Enid and her husband lost their will to live, making them less fun for the coscarthas to torture.
Her husband was murdered instantly.
Enid has been here for two months. I feel horrible for her. As much as I’ve tried to be kind to Enid, she’s still too scared to speak to me.
Everyone looks up as our group enters the dining area.
Anna waves.
“Hi, Anna.” Passing through the room, I smile at her.
“Flanna, please collect beds from the soldier’s quarters and bring them to mine and Kate’s room,” Arland says.
My sister’s gaze locks onto him. I almost hear Brit saying, “And what have you two been doing in your room?”
When we enter our room, she smiles mischievously at me.
“What are you doing, Kate?”
“Shouldn’t we go see Brad?”
Tilting her head to the side, Mom squints her blue eyes. I know the look she’s giving me; even through the candlelight, I see she feels sorry for me.
“I will get to him, soon.” She pats my hand and leans in near my ear. “There are things we need to discuss, and I am worried about your sister.”
I look from Mom to Brit.
My sister hugs herself, rubbing her arms.
I nod.
Flanna carries two rolled-up beds into the room. “Where do you want these?”
“One should go along the wall, and the other between the dresser and bed,” Mom says.
We set up the room and decide to rotate who sleeps where.
“Arland, have you made plans to get Kate to Wickward to meet your father?” Mom wraps a sheet around one of the mattresses.
“We were planning to leave in two days.”
She glances at my sister, struggling to attach a sheet to her bed. “As much as I’d like to see Kimball, I feel we should wait another week before we leave. It will give us time to work on Brad, and it will allow Brit time to acclimate to this new life, the way Kate has.”
I agree with Mom. Brit clearly needs time to adjust to the lack of light, to fighting, to an anything-but-normal life.
Arland rubs his chin. “I do not like the idea of staying here, while so many daemons gather just outside our perimeter. We have already had one breach; I cannot allow that to happen again.”
Mom crosses the room and places her hand over Arland’s forearm. “You are a good Leader, but look at my daughter … .”
Brit lies on her mattress, arms wrapped around her shins.
We all turn our heads to her.
“W-what?” She sits up, but keeps herself in a ball.
“I will need to contact my father and make some additional arrangements,” Arland says, bringing our attention back to him. “But, for Kate’s safety, you must not refer to yourself by either your first or last name. Is there something else we can call you?”