Wilde's Army

by Krystal Wade

  “Where are you going?” Perth asks, breathless.

  “I told you there wasn’t any time, but you didn’t listen. Now they’ve probably already killed Brit, and I couldn’t keep the connection to her. I’m going to stop this. Let me go, or I will kill you, too.” I knock his hand from my shoulder and run again.

  Perth follows.

  Mirain waits by the edge of his perimeter, facing toward the south.

  I turn my head toward the sky. “Thank you, Griandor, for sending her to me.”

  Her body glows a brilliant-white, and she rears. When she returns to all fours, I jump on her back then look at Perth.

  He stares at my horse; his eyes ask questions before he even speaks. “Did you just thank a god for your horse?”

  “There’s no time. I heard the daemons in the forest. Your hiding spot didn’t work either.” I kick my heels into Mirain’s sides and take off … alone.

  Lead me to them, Griandor.

  Mirain moves so smooth and fast, I know the sun god is aiding us. Galloping at considerable speed, she jumps over huge fallen trees, turns just in front of boulders, and bounds though small streams leading to the river. She huffs white clouds of steam from her nose, but nothing slows her down.

  Branches crack, and water splashes behind me; I glance over my shoulder. Bowen is following with Perth on the stallion.

  Breaking through a line of trees, Mirain slows then stops about forty feet before we arrive at a large rock formation. Small cracks in the stones allow light to escape.

  This is it.

  I slide from her back then draw my sword. Body on fire and heart full of rage, I march toward the cave.

  A hand clasps my shoulder again.

  “Wait,” Perth says with a hard edge to his tone.

  “Why?” I try to knock his hand free of me, but he digs his fingers into my skin.

  He glances toward the rocks. “We have about three seconds before we are spotted. Turn off your flames.”

  I think about everyone in that cave before I answer. “No.”

  “I have a plan. Now, turn off your flames.” He growls.

  “Your plans don’t work.” I want to hit Perth, use my magic against him.

  Trust him, Griandor’s voice booms in my head.

  As if listening to its creator, the magic flickers and retracts from my extremities, folding itself into my heart. The anger inside me dissolves.

  “Please, trust me,” Perth says.

  My shoulders sag, and I stare at the ground. I sigh. “What’s your plan?”

  “A distraction. I will ride a horse in front of the cave, get their attention, then ride off as fast as possible. When the daemons follow me, you can move in for the soldiers. Once they are free, I will understand if you do not try to rescue me—I doubt I will live long enough for that, but I would appreciate you trying.”

  I look from the ground and lock eyes with Perth. “Are you saying you’re willing to sacrifice your life to save all the others?”

  “Yes,” he says with no hint of a lie in his tone at all.

  I shouldn’t have treated Perth as unfairly as I have. “I will come for you. Ride fast. Head north toward Willow Falls. Stay as close to the river as possible, so we can use it as a guide.”

  A small smile grows on his face. “I will. Cadman’s stallion will not be able to ride as far and fast as your Mirain, but I will do my best to stay alive. Be safe and watch for their tricks.”

  Maybe all Perth ever needed was someone to trust him. Maybe that’s all any of the Ground Dwellers have needed, except for possibly his dad. Perth mounts the stallion, creates a blue flame in his palm then transfers it to his sword. Old magic in the iron holds the fire.

  “Oh, and Perth,” I say before he rides away.

  He looks over his shoulder.

  “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you for trying to trust me. You have shown me more kindness than most. I hope for all of our sakes this is not a trap.” Perth kicks his feet into the horse’s sides and rides up the path leading to the mouth of the cave.

  I wait until he reaches the top.

  Perth lifts his sword, and the horse trots in.

  Ten dreadful seconds pass; I don’t dare take a breath.

  Snorting precedes the glow of the blue flames and Perth. Tairbs and coscarthas chase the horse. Ten, twenty, thirty creatures rush out of the cave, grunting and screeching. I’m not sure how they keep up with the stallion’s speed, but they do.

  When no more exit and they’re all out of sight, I move in.

  Mirain and Bowen follow behind, then stop by a tree just before the path leading up to the cave.

  Prickles of fear ripple along my arms and grow stronger the closer I draw to the entrance. I take a deep breath and release the magic from inside; there’s no telling if all the daemons followed Perth out or not. Bringing my sword to my chest, I put my back against the rocks and use my ears to check for clues as to what I’m about to walk into.

  Other than the sound of my nervous breaths and heart pounding in my chest, there are no noises.

  It’s now or never.

  Stepping in front of the entrance, I see everything just as I had from Brit’s mind—minus the daemons. Arland is at the back of the cave; we lock eyes.

  I gasp.

  Crimson soaks through his pants. Open wounds are carved on his chest. Dirt and blood make him barely recognizable. Brit is next to him. Both of them are alive, but I can’t imagine they will be for much longer. Every advance my feet make seems to take too long. Concern for anything lurking disappears and my pace picks up.

  I drop my sword by Arland’s feet and work to untie the ropes around his hands.

  He lifts his head.

  “Thank God you’re alive.”

  Stop. Griandor’s voice booms in my head again.

  It takes monumental effort to make my fingers obey his command.

  Pick up your sword and untie your mother first, he instructs.

  Arland’s forehead creases, and he squints as I back away from him.

  My heart aches. I want to help him, hug him, kiss him, but I set aside the look of confusion on his face then turn for my mom. Each step feels like I’m carrying ten pounds of lead in my boots.

  Even in the dim light with a gag secured in Mom’s mouth by rope, I see relief on her face. With my focus off Arland and Brit, I see a look of relief on everyone’s face.

  I rip through the bindings around Mom’s feet, face, and then hands. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, rubbing her red wrists.

  I glance over my shoulder at Arland. Why can’t I untie him? Why am I being punished even more?

  “How did you know?” Mom asks, removing the ropes from Gavin next to her.

  “Know what, Mom?”

  She points toward Arland and Brit. “That those two are shifters.”

  “Excuse me? Arland said shifters only imitate animals.”

  “Apparently they can do more than we thought.” She finishes Gavin and moves on to Dunn.

  “So you didn’t know?”

  Shaking my head, I follow her lead and untie Flanna. “If they’re shifters, why don’t they escape now that I know what they are?”

  Mom stops and looks at me over her shoulder. “I am not sure.”

  We continue releasing people; each time someone is freed, they turn and help the one next to them until all but Arland and Brit are unrestrained.

  “Why didn’t you release him then?” Mom asks, offering her hand to Enid.

  “Griandor sent me a message.”

  Everyone snaps their head in my direction—even the children.

  I look down myself. I’m glowing, and I’ve just told a cave full of people I spoke to a god. My power is no longer a secret, but then, the only person who I needed to hide from has always known who I am.

  The soldiers fall silent, as though I spoke a terrible joke in front of a bad audience.

  Mom glances around, then rests her eyes on me. “We will
have to discuss this more later. We need to find the real Arland and Brit, and those two are the only ones who could know where they are.”

  She points to the shifters. “This is going to get hard.”

  “Get hard? When has this been easy? I’ve lost everything and gotten it all back so many times, I don’t even know how I’m standing right now. But we have to find them, and fast, because we have to rescue Perth, and there may not be much time for him.” I turn on my toe then march right up to the imposters. Using my sword, I slice through the ropes holding the gags in the fake Brit’s mouth, then Arland’s.

  “Kate, you must trust me. Look at my eyes and tell me I am not the man you love, tell me I am not the man you committed your life to last night.” Arland’s voice cracks.

  He needs water. I want to caress his face, tell him everything is going to be okay. He looks so much like my Arland.

  “They steal memories, too?” I ask.

  “Apparently,” Mom says.

  But the pain filling me from his words is too great. Just last night, while next to our bed, Arland said he wanted me to be buried with his people. I can think of no greater future than to spend my entire life with him. Closing my eyes to escape the torment, I see two forms of pulsing energy. Black strands looped around a solid white core stretch out like bands of elastic and snap back over and over.

  My flames burn out of control; I look at the shifters. “What did you do with them?”

  “Kate, please, it is me,” he begs, green eyes watering.

  “They cannot be far. Shifters must stay close to those they emulate.” The sureness in Mom’s voice startles me.

  I stare at her. “H-how do you know?” It’s not that I don’t trust my mom, I just don’t understand how she can have any knowledge of shifters … no one knew what they were capable of, and she didn’t live here.

  She wipes tears from her eyes. “My sister and I were telepaths. Like you and Brit, we could connect to each other. Our annual hiking trip was a way for me to gather information from her about things that were going on. We could connect any time, but the closer I was to the portal, the stronger our link was.”

  “Was, Mom?”

  “The night before our trip, when I got sick, it was because she was murdered.”

  Murdered? My chest constricts, forcing all the air from my lungs.

  “We connected all the time.” Mom sucks in a sharp breath.

  “We were sharing information when she was killed. I felt her fear and her death as it happened. It was awful. I wanted to die.” She presses a trembling hand to her pale cheeks.

  “When I asked why you were sick, you said it was nothing! Why don’t you tell me things?” I ask, shaking my head.

  She covers her eyes, hiding pain she’s never shown before, truths she hasn’t been able to talk about. Yelling at Mom when she’s just told me her sister died makes me feel horrible, but I hate secrets. I want the truth. However, after what just took place between Brit and me, I can only imagine how awful losing someone while connected to them mentally would be. “Was her name Cairine?”

  Mom jumps at the name. “Yes, but how—?”

  I wrap my arms around her. “Arland told me he and Cairine used to keep in contact, but he hadn’t heard from her recently.”

  “I forgot how close the two of them were,” she says into my shoulder.

  “My sister was the last telepath in The Meadows. I’m sure without her, everyone there is worried.”

  Pulling out of our embrace, I glance at the two shifters. “I was in Brit’s mind not long before I got here … what happened to the real Brit and Arland?”

  Mom gasps. “They were taken away.”

  “Are they a-alive?” I ask, clenching my hand around the hilt of my sword.

  “Yes, but we have to find them, Kate. They may not have time.”

  “So, what do we do with them?” I point at the shifters.

  She turns toward them and scowls. “Kill them.”

  “You don’t want to do that,” Brit’s shifter says, green eyes big and honest just like my sister’s.

  “Oh, I do,” I say.

  Brit’s imposter smiles a broad, sinister smile. “If you kill us, you will never find the two you love.”

  I look at my mom, hope sinking to my feet.

  “I don’t know, Kate,” she says.

  Closing my eyes again, I lower my head. Griandor, please help me.

  Along the ground, two black pulsing bands stretch from the daemons in front of us and out of the cave.

  “Keep watch,” I tell Mom, turning away from the imposters.

  “Cadman, Flanna, come with me.”

  Cadman and Flanna stop talking to the other soldiers and follow. Keeping my eyes closed, I track the bands outside.

  “Kate, I know we are not the ones you were looking for, but can you at least look at me?” Flanna asks in her sarcastic tone, but there’s something more to it. Something uneasy.

  “We don’t have time, Flanna. I need you and Cadman to lead me around any obstacles. I’m following bands of—I don’t even know what they are. I’m just following something stretching out of those two daemons, and I’m hoping it’s going to lead to Arland and Brit.” I step on a large stone and roll my ankle, nearly losing my balance.

  Flanna takes hold of my arm with a clammy hand. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I would feel safer if I had a sword,” Cadman says.

  I hold out my claymore for him.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. If either of you sees anything, protect yourselves first; I can handle myself if something comes my way.”

  Flanna puts her left hand on my right shoulder. Judging by the echo of boots, Cadman walks behind me. The bands stretch down in front of us. Opening my eyes, I see we have to descend the rocks leading to the river.

  We move at a slow pace, placing each foot carefully in front of the other. Jagged stones crash down the steep cliff side, cracking as they tumble to the bottom.

  Flanna slides a couple of feet and lands on her butt. “Did we really need to come this way?”

  “We’re almost there … just a few more steps.”

  We jump onto solid ground, earth thudding under our feet.

  A quick blink reveals the bands turn to the left and lead into another cave. The entry is small and dark.

  My gut tells me this is a trap.

  I point ahead of us. “The black things lead in there. I don’t have a good feeling about this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  “I say we follow the only clues we have,” Flanna says.

  “I agree with Flanna, but you are correct, this does seems strange.” Cadman doesn’t look at me. He’s on guard, searching in all directions for danger.

  “You guys stay here. With only the one sword, if something is in there, you will be unable to protect yourselves. I’ve got magic on my side.”

  Flanna and Cadman exchange a worried look.

  “Kate, are you sure it is a good idea to go by yourself?” she asks.

  “I will be fine,” I tell her. “Cadman, keep her safe.”

  He nods.

  “Don’t come looking for me, if I don’t come back.”

  “And then what would we tell Arland when we find him?” Flanna laughs. “Just go, but be careful.”

  Keeping my eyes open, I drop to my hands and knees then crawl into the cave. I have no time to be afraid, no time to search for the black bands. I follow instincts and use my Light to guide me now.

  “Arland? Brit?” I call.

  My quivering voice echoes, betraying my nerves, my fears.

  The tunnels are about three feet wide and four feet tall. I cannot imagine how daemons could have gotten Arland and Brit in here without a struggle, but I don’t see any signs of one. No blood, no tracks … nothing.

  The path makes a sudden, sharp slant downward. A hill so steep, it takes all my strength to keep from sliding forward. Turning around, I crab-walk down the slope;
my muscles twitch and burn from holding myself up.

  When the ground levels out again, the walls open into a large space and reveal three possible paths. I stand, close my eyes, and search for the bands—they lead to the right.

  “Arland? Brit?” I call again.

  The deeper I get, the creepier this situation becomes. A constant hissing noise grows louder and louder. Instead of getting colder the further underground I get, the cave fills with a damp, warm air.

  I shudder. Goose bumps prick up my arms and raise the hairs on the back of my neck. The walls close in again; I return to my hands and knees. Time drones on. I don’t even know if I’m following the right clues, but I will not give up on Arland and Brit, on love, or on family.

  Another hiss echoes in front of me. I try to place why the sound is so familiar, and then it comes again—louder. Hissing is not a normal sound for a cave. It reminds me of … collecting eggs from the chicken coop, but why?

  Again the sound echoes.

  When I was seven, a black snake lashed out at me when I was gathering eggs from under a chicken. The snake was using the hen’s warmth and eating her eggs; snakes are smart, vile creatures. But this sound is too loud to be any normal snake.

  Serpents!

  Perth said he’s never seen them outside the water, but of course they come out, and what better place than in a low cave next to a river?

  My hands and knees propel me forward at an alarming pace. I shouldn’t rush into this when I know nothing about what I’m going to face, but the thought of the daemon being near my sister or my love is my driving force. Closing my eyes, I look at the ground to make sure I’m still on the right path.

  I am.

  “Arland? Brit?” I yell.

  The hiss is deafening, making me pause in my tracks. I listen for any other noise that might give me information I need, but cannot hear anything else, so I continue crawling. The walls open up again. My fire fills the space ahead of me, revealing something I’ve never imagined.

  Standing at least forty feet tall is the biggest snake I’ve ever seen. It looks like a cobra with brown and white scales the size of tables. Its hood is puffed out, and it hisses at Arland and Brit. They appear to be tied to the wall by their arms and legs, but there’s no rope. Closing my eyes again, I see the pulsing black bands covering almost every inch of their bodies.