Wilde's Army

by Krystal Wade

  I imagine a telephone wire linking Watchers Hall to Willow Falls, imagine I’m in that wire, running along the fifty miles between the two bases. Tingles replace the connection I have to my arms and legs, then everything goes numb. I open my eyes and look down at myself … I’m floating outside my body.

  “This is so amazing!”

  Perth doesn’t respond. He’s watching the stationary me. He cannot see the floating me … or at least he doesn’t look at the version of me hovering in the room.

  The only thing to do now is figure out how to get my apparition from here to Willow Falls. I look at the box and study the small, round holes cut into the red wood. The holes. I swim through the air, reach out, then place my hand over the openings. The device sucks me in and sends me hurtling through a vast, dark space so fast my stomach rises to my throat.

  “Willow Falls, Willow Falls, Willow Falls.” I repeat where I want to go because I’m not sure how else to get there.

  I’m surrounded by complete and utter darkness. Chills creep up my arms. I hold out my hands at my sides, but no longer feel like I’m moving. The air is stagnant … my head crashes into a wall, leaving me with an instant, throbbing headache.

  I rub the knot above my eye and swim closer to a dim light filtering in on me through the inside of what appears to be another chatter box. My skin is polka-dotted with about twenty faint-white spots. I reach my hand to the holes but cannot pass through.

  “Hello?” I have no idea if there’s chatter box protocol or not, but hello seems universal enough.

  Someone passes by. Muffled voices come from inside the room, but I cannot make out anything being said.

  I bang on the space next to the holes.

  “Hello?” I draw the word out longer this time.

  A mouth appears in front of me.

  “State your name and location,” a man’s voice booms.

  “Kate. Watchers Hall.”

  “Kate? Watchers Hall? I am sorry, but I do not know who you are,” says the big mouth.

  “It doesn’t matter who I am; we’ve been attacked. I need to speak to whoever is in charge. Immediately.”

  “Drustan, notify High Leader Maher. He will want to speak to this woman. She says Arland’s base has been attacked.”

  “Yes, sir. I will return with him shortly.”

  Hinges squeak as, I presume, Drustan exits the room.

  Arland’s father is here? I thought he was at Wickward. Butterflies swarm in my stomach, and I rub my palms together. I’m about to meet him without Arland’s calming presence. What will his dad think of me? What if he doesn’t like me? What if I can’t make my father’s friend proud?

  “Oscailte,” says the man, waving his palm over the chatter box.

  I reach my hand to the opening again, but this time I pass through and am deposited in full apparition form into a room much like the one I just left.

  “Who are you, and what happened?” The brown-haired man stands with his strong arms folded over his chest. The middle of his forehead presses together, and he narrows his blue eyes.

  “My name is–”

  “Leave us.” A commanding voice reverberates from behind me.

  I turn around. The man standing in the doorway, watching as the others rush out of the room, makes my heart ache. Arland is the spitting image of his father—minus the wrinkles around his eyes and the gray hair. Holding back the tears drains the strength out of me. Arland and I have only been apart for a short time, but there’s no telling what condition he’s in, or if we’ll ever see each other again.

  High Leader Maher closes the door after the last of the soldiers exit. “Katriona, it is nice to finally meet you. You must have questions, but there is not enough time. Who has been taken?”

  He’s right. I have a lot of questions, but most of them will have to be saved for another meeting. “Everyone besides me and Perth Dufaigh.”

  His face drains of color. “Is Perth aware of your identity?”

  “Yes. He’s just said he’s known the entire time, but I don’t think he is as bad as the other Ground Dwellers.”

  Leader Maher looks beyond me and rubs his chin between his thumb and index finger—another trait he shares with Arland. “Katriona, do not be fooled. Ground Dwellers are all bad. It is unfortunate, but you are going to have to stay with him. Use him if you must, but do not believe anything he says.”

  Of course Leader Maher thinks they’re all bad. Perth said if any of his people knew how he felt, they would kill him. He’s had to lie to everyone his entire life. I feel a sudden need to defend Perth. He could have left me here to rot by myself, but he didn’t. That has to amount to something good in him.

  “We are going to rescue the others. Perth wanted to come to Willow Falls for help, but I don’t need it. He saw where the daemons took the others. We are going to check it out and possibly attack.”

  Leader Maher’s eyes return to the present, and he gives me an approving stare. “I am happy to see how confident you are with your abilities. The last time I spoke with Arland, he informed me you were still unsure of yourself. Much has changed, no?”

  I nod. Much has changed. I was visited by two gods, given information about myself and the war which has plagued this world for twenty years, had my best friend murdered in front of me, and my family and the love of my life were ripped away.

  “You must not trust Perth, Katriona. I am sure he did want you to come here with him. His father is here. With the others captured—possibly dead—he would not have to worry about Arland standing in his way. He could have you for himself and take his position as Second Leader over his people—he needs a wife before that can happen. Given the family’s reputation, I fear they may be up to something even bigger. Save the others, bring them here. When you arrive, keep your distance from Arland. You must protect him. I know it is intended to be the other way around, but if you want this to end well for the both of you—and I am positive you do—you must adhere to my advice. Do you understand?” His intensity is almost threatening. I’m sure if Leader Maher could touch me, he’d be shaking my shoulders right now.

  “I-I do.” I’m not certain who to trust anymore. Is Perth bad or not? Are Leader Maher’s fears founded? Why couldn’t Griandor have been more specific?

  There’s a tugging sensation at my apparition. My muscles burn as if I’ve been lifting weights too heavy for me. Staying in this room becomes more difficult by the second. I need to tell Leader Maher the rest, fast. “I need an army.”

  He squints. “We have an army.”

  “No, sir, I need an army,” I say, pressing my palm over my heart; it’s well over its maximum beat per minute range. I’m stepping on some major toes right now; any second, I’m sure I’ll hyperventilate.

  “I need men and women willing to fight and follow my orders.”

  “May I ask what for?” he asks with a hint of amusement.

  I sigh. “To fight a war against a god.”

  He moves in closer to me. The ferocity in his green eyes is overwhelming.

  My breath catches in my chest—I know how he became High Leader; no one could question the authority in his stature.

  “What information do you have?”

  “There is no time. We will speak more when I arrive with the others—assuming they’re okay. Will you form an army for me?” My hands begin to dissolve and float toward the box.

  “It will not be an easy task to convince people to fight. We have lost many lives already, but I will try. Many Leaders are gathered here to discuss our current situation. I will speak with them; however, I fear you will need to do most of the work yourself.”

  “Why?” I ask as all of my body dematerializes.

  The chatter box sucks at the particles of my broken apparition.

  “You will understand—”

  I cannot hear the rest of his answer; I’m zipping through the black space just as before.

  “Watchers Hall, Watchers Hall, Watchers Hall.”

  M
y head doesn’t slam into a wooden wall like it did before. I fly straight through the holes and into my body. Feeling returns to my limbs. I wiggle my fingers and toes and open my eyes.

  “Give up?” Perth asks.

  I startle and look up at him. “Give up? I’ve been gone for at least ten minutes.”

  “Interesting. I did not see you move a single muscle. Did you deliver the message?”

  “Yes. We are to rescue the others and bring them to Willow Falls,” I say, leaving out details about who I had a discussion with.

  Perth kneels beside me, offering his hand. “Will they be sending any soldiers to our aid?”

  “No.” Scowling, I take hold of him, and he pulls me to my feet.

  “We don’t need them. I’ve told you this.” His lack of confidence is annoying.

  “Were you aware of a Leader’s meeting at Willow Falls?”

  Perth’s face falls flat. “No. Who did you speak with?”

  “What does it matter? Perth, I will not marry you. If you lied to me before, if I discover you ever lie to me, I will drive my sword into your heart. Do you understand me?” Flames spread over my body. I’m sick of being in the dark, and I refuse to be a pawn in anyone’s game or power struggle. I brush past him, heading straight for the hall.

  He grabs my upper arm before I storm out of the room, pulling me around to face him. “Katriona, I swear to you what I said before was not a lie. Who did you speak with?”

  I scowl at his hand on my arm.

  He releases me.

  “I spoke with Kimball Maher.”

  Perth arches his eyebrows. “They allowed you to speak directly to the High Leader?”

  Playing into his obvious insecurity, I smile. “I wouldn’t say allowed; he required it.”

  His eyebrows return to their normal location, then he stares at something on the floor. “And he spoke of me?”

  Perth wants to do right, I can tell. I hear it in his voice, I see it in his eyes, and yet I torment him. He knows no one will ever trust him, but he needs trust in order to do the right thing.

  “Yes. He says I shouldn’t trust you, and I defended you. If you do anything to make me regret that—”

  The floor no longer interests Perth; he looks at me with wide eyes and a genuine smile—the cold look turned warm. “You will kill me. I understand.”

  “We need to leave. We have wasted too much time already—something the others don’t have. We’ll take the horses.”

  “Okay.”

  I turn on my toe, and we leave the communications room.

  Chapter Three

  Relief washes over me after Perth and I enter the stables and find all the animals unharmed. I didn’t realize how worried I was. As soon as I hear the familiar clucks and occasional moos and nays, I sigh.

  “How are the animals going to survive if we leave them?” I ask.

  Perth casts a sideways glance in my direction. “Willow Falls may not send soldiers to our aid, but I guarantee you, they will send them here for the livestock. It may take a day or two for the boats to arrive, but arrive they will.”

  It sounds as though Perth has lost faith in his fellow Draíochtans. High Leader Maher didn’t say he wouldn’t send soldiers to our aid; I never asked for them.

  “Collectors, right? I think that’s what Arland called them.”

  “Yes.”

  Just in case it takes more than a few days for the Collectors to come for the animals, I grab a feedbag then fill the food troughs for the chickens, cows, and goats.

  He enters the chicken coop after I finish feeding them.

  I drop the empty burlap bag outside the goat pen and follow Perth inside. “What are you doing?”

  “We are going to need food. There is no telling when we will have a meal again.” He chases after one of the white hens, then catches it by her bumpy, orange feet.

  She pecks at his fingers, but Perth manages to get his hands around her neck.

  I turn my head and close my eyes, but still hear the distinct sound of bones breaking.

  “It would be better if we could bring more, but the meat would rot before we could eat it all,” he says, carrying the dead chicken in his hands.

  I might not eat for days.

  “Why not let it live?”

  “Too noisy.” He dangles the bird in front of him, indicating for me to leave the coop first.

  We round the corner toward the horses. Their ears flatten against their heads. Mirain seems more nervous than the others, stomping and swishing her tail.

  “What is it, girl?” I ask, approaching her with my hand held out, palm up.

  “It is me. Animals have never liked me very much,” Perth says, still standing in the storage area, backed against the hay bales.

  I eye the dead chicken in his murderous hands. “I cannot imagine why not.”

  Leaving Perth, I gather Mirain and Bowen, then lead them from their stalls and into the storage bay near the stable doors.

  Perth holds out the bird as I pass. “Here. Tie this onto Bowen for me?”

  I crinkle my nose. “No, you can do that yourself.”

  He doesn’t move.

  Great. He’s afraid. He can easily kill a chicken but is scared of a horse?

  “Have you ever ridden?” I hope he has. Otherwise, there’s not enough time to teach him, and he’ll have to ride with me. The thought makes me cringe.

  “We do not have a need for these creatures where I am from, but I have ridden. Neither the horse nor I will enjoy this much.”

  ”You should ride Cadman’s; he’s gentle and won’t fight you as much as Bowen will.” I point toward the end of the stables.

  “He’s in the last stall.” Never mind the fact I don’t want him touching anything belonging to Arland.

  Perth still doesn’t move.

  “No, Perth, really, I’ll get him. Don’t you worry at all.” I march to the last stall, unlatch the gate, then lead the stallion out next to Mirain.

  There’s an uneasy tension in the space between the animal and Perth. They stare each other down. Neither breathes. Both stand still.

  “Are you going to get on?”

  The horse and Perth startle at the sound of my voice.

  “Why are we bringing three?” he asks, his feet still planted to the ground.

  “I’d like to take them all. If we rescue the others, we’re going to need them, but I cannot imagine leading eight horses through the forest being the quietest adventure, can you?”

  If Perth ever betrays me, I’m going to stick him in a barn with a hundred horses and let them scare him to death. This is ridiculous.

  “You are bringing Bowen for Arland. You may admit it, it is okay.” The creepy Perth is back. His eyes lose their decency, turning into cold slits, and he puts on a wicked smile.

  I climb Mirain and grab Bowen’s reins. There isn’t anything to tie him to Mirain since I ride her bareback, so I’ll have to lead him.

  “Get on the horse, or I’ll leave you here.” I look over my shoulder where Perth stands, frozen.

  There’s no chance I’ll find the others if Perth doesn’t follow, but I cannot imagine he wants to stay here by himself. I turn from him and wave my hand in front of the door. “Oscailte!”

  Holding my breath as the doors open, I prepare to fight anything that might run in to attack. But no daemons jump out at us. There’s nothing in front of us other than the cold, eerie silence of the Darkness.

  I click my cheek. “Let’s go, girl.”

  Mirain trots outside the stables, then pauses. A few seconds later an extra set of hooves clop behind us, and I know Perth is following.

  Mirain turns toward the nervous Ground Dweller.

  “Where to?” I ask.

  He looks up from his hands squeezing the horn of the saddle. “Go left, then left again, so we are heading north. We should travel in a wide arc and go beyond the cave. We will double back. The daemons will not expect us to come from the north … if that is where they ar
e.”

  “Are you capable of leading us, or are you too scared of the horse you’re sitting on?” I tease.

  This seems to strike a nerve in Perth. He straightens his back, squares his shoulders, and kicks his feet into the horse’s side. They trot right by me, into the forest of Darkness.

  I dig my heels into Mirain and follow along on a trail not well traveled. Tree branches hang low, and I have to move them out of the way in order for us to pass. These three miles—or more if we go beyond the cave—are going to take forever.

  Perth rides about ten feet ahead of me, but it’s so dark I can only make out the white of his tunic. I’d love to have a torch or something right now, but we don’t need to bring any attention to us.

  Moving along at a snail’s pace, I think of my sister, my mom, the children, and of Arland. Out of everyone, Brit is probably the most afraid. The children and Arland have lived this nightmare their entire lives. My mom prepared for this from before I was born, though she hasn’t lived here since these rough times began.

  No, I’m positive Brit is out of her mind with fear. Just a couple days ago, she was upset about us being in the dark, about missing college, about losing a boyfriend, and not knowing her prophecy. Now she’s been captured by daemons and may not be alive much longer.

  A tear races down my left cheek at the thought of my sister being dead. I wipe the tear away. My eye is still swollen. I almost forgot about it. Griandor took the pain from me but not the mark itself. The black eye is like a constant reminder of everything I’ve lost, of everything I stand to lose.

  Reaching up, I move a branch out of my way and my vision fades to black. I cannot see Perth in front of me, or even Mirain. I struggle to maintain control, but lose feeling in my hands and feet. Tingling sensations work their way throughout my body.

  My eyesight returns gradually, but I’m not riding in the dark forest on Mirain. Torches hang on gray-rock walls and are burning brightly, revealing a cave full of daemons and soldiers. Rushing around and tying people up, the daemons are a kind I’ve never seen or encountered before. These beings are tall and have black, hairy legs and hooves for feet. Their torsos are human-like with broad muscular chests and big arms. They have heads of men and eyes the color of blood.