by Krystal Wade
Leader Dufaigh smiles and claps his hand on Arland’s shoulder. “It is unclear the extent of the damage, but the base has been infiltrated. Another failed Leader, Arland. Does this sound familiar?”
He brushes Dufaigh’s hand aside. “Is this the reason there are no guards outside these walls tonight?”
“We brought them in to prepare for their journey to Wickward.” The sinister, yet annoying, Ground Dweller points to a large piece of aged paper with names scrawled on it. “The ones on the list leave at three.”
Brit approaches the table, running her finger down the long list of names and gasps. “Wait, so you’re telling me another base is being attacked and you were out stuffing your fat face instead of trying to help?”
Dufaigh growls, low and throaty, and turns his attention on my sister.
Brit is playing a dangerous game. One that will surely have her locked up and ruining our plan before we ever get to eat. I try to make a connection to her, think of her and her alone.
“Brit?”
She keeps her eyes focused on Dufaigh standing before her with a blood-red face. “What? This guy is pissing me off.”
“He’s dangerous, Brit. Just shut up and let him talk without interrupting again. Please.”
“I am a Leader, child. No matter what your bloodline, if you wish to live, you will keep quiet.” Dufaigh turns to Arland.
“She clearly has a fascination with you to speak up that way. Learn to control her, Arland Maher, or you will be out of two wives.”
Her scowl fades, and we lock eyes. “What does he mean I have a fascination with Arland?”
“As long as he doesn’t think I do, we should be fine. Play into it. Arland is smart enough to figure it out.”
Brit clasps her hands behind her back and looks at her boot, twisting it on the stone floor. “I am so sorry for talking that way in front of you, Arland. It was just hard to hear him speak to you that way.”
Arland puts his arm around Brit’s shoulders, pulling her into him—an act making me squirm on the inside. “You must learn to show respect. Even to those who do not always deserve it.” He looks away from Brit and smiles broadly at Dufaigh.
Backing away, he huffs out a long breath. “I will very much enjoy watching you fall from grace, you—”
“That is enough,” Arland’s father commands, stepping into the room through a doorway in the far right corner. “You will not speak to my son that way. Is it not enough we are at war with Darkness, we need to war each other as well?”
Mom places her hand over her heart and bows her head, a sign of respect; though after what Leader Dufaigh just told us, High Leader Maher doesn’t deserve it. “Kimball … .”
He crosses the room then stands right in front of my mother, towering over her by at least six inches. “Drustan, Annan, leave us.”
Keeping his attention on the men, he waits for them to leave then looks at Mom again. “It is good to see you, Saraid. Where is Brian?” Leader Maher glances around the room, but he knows exactly where my dad is.
Mom buries her face in her hands. “He died a long time ago, Kimball.”
Leader Maher pulls her into a hug. “He was a good man. I am sorry to hear of this.”
The amount of acting going on here is incredible.
He holds her at arm’s length, then tips his head in the direction of where he entered. “The meeting room in the back will be more appropriate for our conversation. After you.”
Leader Dufaigh takes off first, followed by Mom, Brit, Perth and me.
“Wait here, son,” Leader Maher says.
Peeking back, I notice he has his hand wrapped tightly around Arland’s elbow.
“Keep moving,” Perth whispers.
Arland and his father watch as Perth and I cross through the doorway. I can only imagine the questions that will be asked. Only imagine the lies unfolding before we have a chance to tell a large enough web of them. Of course Arland’s father already knows the truth, but we need for him to stay on board, and we need Arland to stay here.
Alive.
Perth leans in close to my ear. “Do not worry; Arland will be fine.”
“It is not only him I am worried about,” I say as low as possible. “It is everything.”
We lock eyes, and I’m positive he understands I’m worried about the lie. Positive he knows Arland’s father will have to go along with it—at least the part about Perth and me.
“Me, too.”
“They are such a lovely couple,” Dufaigh says, interrupting my quiet conversation with Perth.
We’ve entered into a small room. One long table is situated in the center with a dozen or so chairs surrounding it. Clear glass jars filled with white wax and warm candlelight line the table. Hand-drawn canvass maps cover the walls, denoting bases and enemy hideouts in different colors.
Dufaigh sits in a chair at the head of the table—a seat I’m sure is not intended for him. Light flickers on his face, creating shadows under his milky-blue eyes and chubby cheeks.
I stop in the middle of the room, not sure where to sit and not sure I want to get any closer to him.
“Take a seat next to me, Perth. Katriona, do not fear, child. You may sit next to him.” Dufaigh points to the seat closest to him.
“I was concerned you would have brainwashed your daughter against my son. Having her willing to marry Perth and not the least bit interested in Arland Maher seems almost too good to be true. Are you ready to perform the Binding spell now?”
“No, Father.” Perth holds out a chair for me.
I sit down then take his hand again once he’s next to me. Perth may be cold and lacking all of Arland’s marvelous qualities, but having someone to hold onto does tremendous good for my nerves.
Dufaigh narrows his eyes. “What do you mean, son?”
“I wish to court her properly, sir. Our time together has been full of bloody battles. We could use some light-hearted fun before we commit to one another forever.” Perth picks up my hand then places his frigid lips on my knuckles.
“Is that not what you wish for, too, my love?”
“I … I—”
His father rests his clenched fists on the table as if he wants Perth to see his anger. “This will not do. We need a wedding. Our people have endured great losses and need something to bring cheer. Your marriage—”
Perth lowers his head, reverting to a state of submission. “Father, I do not wish to displease you, but this is what we desire. A week or two is all we need, then once we are Bound, Katriona and I will go out and fight off this terrible Darkness.”
“More nonsense. I will not allow you to risk your life out there.” Dufaigh waves his hand toward the dirt ceiling.
“But how will we end the war?” Perth asks.
“Son, you will direct what little army we have left to fight out the war.”
“But Katriona has the power to save us all.”
Dufaigh wears a look resembling the man I once thought Perth to be: cold and hard. With eyes fixed on Perth, the heartless Leader stands and digs his fingers into his son’s right hand. “You will not speak another word. If Katriona wishes to fight after you are Bound and she has relinquished her position to you, then so be it.”
Perth reveals no outward signs of pain; he mirrors his father’s angry gaze. “You would have me send my wife out to fight while I remain behind … in hiding?”
“She is a Light Lover, Son. It should not matter to you.” Dufaigh looks at me then flinches.
“I am not quite sure how it is you have fallen for her. She bears the same distrustful eyes as the rest of them.”
“Her life and my honor do matter to me.” Perth squeezes my fingers so tight my bones ache. He fears his father; standing up to him must be terrifying.
“Do you want your time to court her, or shall I have Leader Wilde perform the spell now?”
“I will do no such thing without both of their consents,” Mom says, slamming her fist on the table. “You have c
rossed the line, Dufaigh. Your son wishes to give the people the very thing you ask for, and you challenge him? And worse yet, you say he should send his wife to fight alone? How dare you! Have you lost all your fight?”
Dufaigh looks from Perth to the other side of the table, fingers still dug into his son’s hand. No words are spoken, but there’s fire behind the eyes of my would-be-father-in-law.
Mom shakes her head. “No, I see you have not lost all fight. Only you fight for all the wrong things. Nothing has changed with you over the last twenty years.”
Arland and his father walk in. Everyone looks up or turns around.
Side-by-side the two men could be clones of one another, minus the gray streaks in High Leader’s hair and the crow’s feet around his eyes.
“I apologize for my tardiness. I needed a moment to speak with my son—alone,” he says, stopping at the head of the table. “Would you mind moving from my seat, Dufaigh?”
Without a word, Dufaigh releases his grip on Perth then moves to the other end of the table. Leader Maher claims his seat while Arland sits next to Brit then takes her hand in his.
I try not to stare, try not to allow the faked affections bother me, but they do. She hid her love for my best friend from me for years, now she gets to pretend to be in love with my true love—gets to kiss, hold hands and have acceptance. This was my half-baked telepathic idea, but I hate it already.
“I hear congratulations are in order. It seems Brites and Arland have fallen in love as well as Katriona and Perth. This works out well.” Leader Maher offers a smile reaching up to his striking green eyes, making his crow’s feet grow to his hairline.
“However I am sorry, Brites. I must send Arland to Wickward to rescue the other Draíochtans. I am sure you understand?”
“I am so sorry,” Arland whispers next to her ear.
I cannot take this.
“You have to, Kate. I promise I will not do anything, and I promise not to enjoy this.” Brit meets my eyes and smiles. “Although his hands, his smell, his—”
“Stop!”
She looks away from me, back toward Arland’s father. “I understand, sir. He will be missed, but he is very good at what he does.”
“I have a request to make.” Perth watches the lying pair with his nose turned up in disgust.
I do my best to match his look. With the googly faces Brit’s making, it’s not a difficult task.
“What is that request, Son?” Dufaigh asks.
“I wish for Arland to be on Katriona’s security.”
Leader Maher laughs a low, almost bemused laugh. “Security?”
Perth doesn’t look away from his father. “I know you do not trust Arland, and in many ways neither do I, but you cannot deny his ability to fight off daemons and unruly Draíochtans. Katriona will need security, Father. Think of all the men here who would wish to have her as their own. She will need a guard with her at all times.”
“And you think my son will be the best security for her?” Leader Maher asks with a hint of disbelief. “I believe that to be a waste of his time and will put many lives at stake.”
“I think it a perfect idea, Kimball.” Dufaigh chuckles and rubs his chin. “The Great Arland Maher resorts to protecting his former intended. But can he be trusted? Look at all his recent failures, Son.”
“He has failed no one,” Arland’s father says, overpowering everyone’s chatter. “He must run this mission to Wickward. Would you prefer to have our people die just to protect one girl?”
Dufaigh bolts out of his seat then leans across the table, face red and wild. “One girl? One girl? Do you have any idea how powerful this one girl is?”
Leader Maher’s wooden chair creaks as he stands, shoulders squared, face emotionless. “I do, but I also understand you want to strip that power away from her and make her nothing but a piece in your game for power.”
He paces the length of the table, so much like Arland back at Watchers Hall. “We do not have time for these games, Dufaigh. We need to gather our people and form a more powerful army. I do not wish to fight any more than you do, but fight we must. We are dying. There are three bases of people left to our entire race. What will you or your son stand to gain when there are no people for either of you to rule?”
“Need I remind you the price for these bases you speak of? If it were not for my kind, no one would be alive now. My son’s marriage to this one girl is finally the payment we have been awaiting.” Dufaigh returns to his chair then leans back.
“If he wishes to have Arland on her security so there are no issues with that marriage, then that is what he will get. Unless you wish me to evacuate the remaining bases of all Sea Dwellers and Light Lovers alike? Or I could repeal our peace agreement and we can go to war now?”
Mom scowls, looking back and forth between the men as they tell lies, as they try to move their figurative chess pieces. She makes a slight shift in her chair as if she’s about to get up and speak her mind, but Leader Maher shakes his head.
“Leave it, Saraid. If Perth wishes for Arland to watch over Katriona, and Dufaigh threatens to throw us out otherwise, then that is what we must do. Part of the arrangement made between our kinds many years ago.” He rolls his eyes.
Arland stands so fast his chair falls backward on the floor with a loud clack. “You are giving in to his demands? Who will lead the soldiers to Wickward? Who will ensure they have a safe return?”
Something about the way his face turns bright red and his eyes narrow, mimicking the anger in his raised voice, tells me Arland is not pretending. He’s upset about being stuck here. He loves his people. To know they need him, need us—it must be eating him alive. But Mom said he’d be killed if he went on his father’s mission, and Arland knows how much he protects me … .
Everyone ignores him, even me.
“I would like him to be within sight of her at all times—except at night when I would like him posted outside her door. Is that agreeable?” Perth asks, breaking the tension.
Dufaigh raises an eyebrow. “What do you expect of the other men here, Perth?”
“Look at her, Father.” Perth brings my hand to his lips and kisses it.
“I have. I do not see what attracts you to her, but if this is what makes you feel safe, then this is what we will do. I will assign one of my guards to be Arland’s partner. Someone will need to relieve him for breaks and sleep.”
Arland stands next to his father, arms crossed over his chest. “Are you seriously going to sit back and allow this?”
“My hands are tied.” High Leader Maher shrugs. “This is the way things are.”
“Who will go to Wickward?”
“We will gather our most trusted men. You may pick a leader, and they will leave in the morning.”
He places his hands on Arland’s shoulders. “I do not like you being stuck here any more than you do, but we do not always have a choice.”
“Well, I believe my work here is done,” Dufaigh says, pushing his hands on the table to help himself up. “Get cleaned up—all of you. I will send a dresser to your quarters, Katriona. She will prepare you for your outing as Perth’s future wife. We will meet in the great room at seven.”
Leader Maher grabs Dufaigh’s arm before he walks away. “I need to speak with Arland for a moment, Dufaigh. Do you mind?”
“As long as he can see Katriona, I do not mind where he goes. Son, do you have an issue with this?”
Perth has to say yes. If he doesn’t, his father will be suspicious. I would be suspicious.
“She needs to eat and prepare for the celebration. There is no time for Arland to speak with his father now. Can you not speak to one another while she bathes?”
The muscles in Arland’s jaw jut. “Fine.”
“Where will we find our quarters?” Mom asks.
“Ahh, I nearly forgot about you. You will need to remain here while your dear friend Kimball decides your fate.” Dufaigh turns and heads from the room, snapping his fingers. “
Let us leave them to it now, children. Follow me.”
Brit scrambles from her chair then wraps her arms around Mom’s trembling body. “I’m not leaving you, Mom.”
“You must. This is my problem, dear. I have been expecting this for a very long time.” Mom pats Brit’s hand but looks at me. “Go. Follow him. Do this. He will at least allow me to live long enough to see you married.”
My breath catches in my chest. She isn’t talking about me marrying Perth. She can’t be. Dufaigh may believe that if he hears, her words may even bring him pleasure, but I don’t think she has any hope she’ll make it through our time at Willow Falls. She must have some knowledge that her last act as my mom will be to Bind me and Arland.
Perth tugs my hand, but I cannot move from my seat. My eyes lock with Saraid Wilde’s—the only living parent I have left, and one who has given up everything for me.
“We must go. We cannot keep my father waiting.”
Heat rushes into my face, around my eyes. Sweat beads on my forehead.
“If he has to come back, he will know something is wrong. Please, come. I promise you will see your mother again.”
Everyone’s gaze is on me, but the only one that matters is the one across from me, the one scared and alone, the one I have not trusted enough. “I’m sorry … .” I whisper.
“Go.” She waves.
Shaking, I stand then allow Perth to lead me from the room, and Arland and Brit follow behind us.
Before the shadows hide Mom from me, before I somehow forget what she looks like, I glance over my shoulder and see her crying in High Leader Maher’s arms.
I hope she knows how much I love her.
Chapter Nineteen
The bath here is similar to the one at Watchers Hall—the only exception is there are multiple stone enclosures in the same room. Privacy is a thing of the past.
Hope is too.
Brit and I walk hand-in-hand into the dark washroom with our dingy-white towels slung over our shoulders. Neither of us has spoken since we left communications. The man who wishes to steal everything I am also wishes to steal everything that made me this way and everything keeping me this way.