by Krystal Wade
“Katriona?” my mom whispers.
There is no Kate at Willow Falls—I’m so tired of the lies, but we haven’t come up with a single idea for uniting our people. “What do you want, Mom?”
“May I come in?”
I don’t know why she feels the need to ask … I haven’t locked the door for days. “Sure.”
The rusted hinges squeak like nails raking down a chalkboard. Mom pokes her head through, holding something behind her back and wearing an expression I haven’t seen since the caves by the river. She’s standing tall, shoulders squared, and she’s smiling. “It is time.”
I bolt upright; the crimson silken covers fall around my waist. My fingers tingle, and my legs fill with the urge to flee. “Time for what?”
She crosses the room, takes a seat on the edge of the bed, then places a hand on mine. “Arland is waiting. It is time for the Binding. Are you ready?”
“Where is he? Where has he been? Isn’t he mad at me? Are you sure now is the right time? How are we supposed to get away with this?” Millions of questions swim inside my head, but those are the only ones I can put into words.
Mom squeezes my fingers—her way of reassuring me. “Now is the only time, and he has never been upset with you.”
“Where has he been? Where has everyone been?”
“You are not even aware, are you?”
I scowl at her, heat flaring in my cheeks. “Aware of what? You wouldn’t tell me anything. Brit wouldn’t let me in her head. Perth didn’t have a clue. So no, Mom, I’m not aware of anything.”
“After your vision, on the evening you kissed Perth, you looked at Arland in a way so powerful no one could ever doubt you had feelings for him. The fact any of us remain alive is beyond me, but if Dufaigh had been in the room when that happened, I am afraid we would not be. We may have a few more people on our side than we think.”
Rhoswen … she mentioned we, but I didn’t realize there are so many.
“So he knows I didn’t betray him … he knows about the vi …vision?” My heart pounds wildly in my chest, sending blood thrumming in my ears.
“Brit saw the vision when you did. We thought it would be safer for everyone you have formed a relationship with to stay away—allow you to truly feel alone, so if there was another vision, your eyes could not endanger our mission. It has worked well; to our knowledge, the Dufaighs suspect nothing.”
“What would have happened if I had another visit from Darkness?” I ask, running my hands up and down my goose bump riddled arms.
“Arland has never been that far away, Kate. He has spent every moment with Brit in her quarters, or they waited in the halls while you ate dinner, drummed up conversations with people outside the washroom doors. His time with her has not only helped to build their lie, but has also given him direct access to you in case she sensed something was wrong.”
Mom stares at the wall separating me from my sister. “We know her prophecy.”
Taking in her blank stare, I gasp. “And?”
She keeps looking at the wall. “And your sister is happy with her news.”
“You aren’t going to tell me?” My sister lying on the ground in ruins … blood draining from her mouth, telling me to kill Dughbal … .
“It is not for me to say, and now is not the time. You have a wedding to attend.” Mom tilts her head to the side then locks eyes with me.
I put my hands over my cheeks to force the smile from my face.
“Now, we do not have much time. At this point, we all feel it will be better for you two to go on your own to seek out Darkness. I will perform the Binding spell, you will return inside while we will prepare those on the right path for departure, then you will leave tomorrow before Dufaigh has an opportunity to force you into a life without choice.”
“But Griandor said I have to unite everyone. And what about my army?”
Mom cups my cheek with her hand. “Things will work out the way they are supposed to, and if they do not, you and Arland will at least have each other. He is outside the base. I’ll ask again, are you ready?”
Arland waits for me … to marry me. I run my fingers through my hair, look down at my clothes, suddenly feel like I’m the ugliest, smelliest woman in the world. Of course with the velvet robes Dufaigh has dressed me in, I’m far from hideous, but wearing these things doesn’t feel right.
Mom watches me appraise myself, giving one of those mother looks—the kind that says she’s proud, she’s sad, and happy all at the same time—then hands me a package wrapped in brown paper, tied with twine.
“What’s this?”
She pushes the package at me. “Something Brit, Flanna, and Shay have worked tirelessly to create for you. Go ahead, open it.”
I feel like a child on Christmas day, tearing at the package in a hurry to see the treasures locked inside. The last bit of brown paper falls to the floor, and what I’m left holding takes my breath away.
White silk.
“Other than Binding Spells, Encardia has no marriage traditions. Brit was desperate to dress you up. I imagine if we lived in Virginia, she would have planned a huge wedding for you, but I think we are all aware you would rather not have that. She was insistent you have something beautiful to wear. Brit described wedding gowns to Flanna and Shay, and the three of them sewed this for you.”
Mom takes the silk from my hands then stands and allows the material to unfold, revealing the most stunning dress. Real white jasmine flowers line the scooped neck and thin shoulder straps—the fragrance so sweet I taste it. The bodice ties are also made of silk, and from the waist, the dress flows to the floor. “We had to sneak the flowers from the gardens. The children work very hard to use magic to grow them, but I do not believe any of them would mind if they knew their hard work was for you. So what do you think?”
There are so many things I think; I’m not sure which is the most appropriate to say first. Brit’s a genius—the best sister in the world. Flanna and Shay are wonderful for risking their lives to make this for me. The gown is gorgeous. Let’s go now. I can’t wait. “Thank you, Mom. It’s beautiful and … .”
My words stick in my throat. I’m about to get what I want: Arland. Our time together may not last forever. The visions, the warnings, the war, all of these things have shown me how easily life can be taken away, but for now, my little piece of heaven has arrived.
She hands me the dress. “You will have to wait until we are outside to put it on, but everything has been arranged.”
More potential problems with their plan pop into my head. Every night we’ve been watched, Perth and me, watched by guards, watched by Leaders, soldiers, whoever’s interested in our affairs. What would someone say if they caught me outside the base with my mom, wearing a white gown? Then I think of Perth as an issue, too. “What about Perth? He usually makes a nightly visit, to keep up the pretense of our love. It must be about time—”
“Everything has been arranged, Katri-Kate, everything. High Leader Maher is aware of our plan. He informed Dufaigh you and I will take a walk to discuss a Binding Spell with Perth—his father wants you and Perth Bound by tomorrow night, remember?”
“I know.” Perth told me his father has pulled him aside every evening for the last week to discuss us finally taking that step, and every time Perth came up with another reason not to. He cannot continue to go against his father without suspicions growing.
“I stopped by his room on the way here and told him you would be out for a while and there would be no need to pop in here this evening. Now are you ready?”
“I am.” I grab the dagger Perth made for me, shove it down the front of my dress, then stand, legs trembling below me.
“Ground Dweller magic?”
“Yes. Perth made it for me.”
“He was wise to arm you, and with something no one else can see. Cheilt,” Mom whispers, running her hand across the silk. The gown disappears. She takes it from me, slips it under her belt, then wraps her arm around my sho
ulders and ushers me toward the door.
“I have to apologize, Kate; Perth has surprised me. It appears trusting in him was the right thing to do. I am sorry for ever doubting you.”
We walk into the hall at the same time.
Brit, Flanna, and Shay stand huddled with wide eyes looking everywhere but forward, hands clenched in fists at their sides.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask. “Where are Deverell and Cyric?”
Brit responds with a squeal and a hug, knocking me into Mom with the force of it.
“Are you trying to kill me, Brit?”
She steps away, but rocks up and down on her toes. “Sorry,” she whispers. “I’m just so excited for you. And your guards are off duty.”
Shay places her hand on my shoulder and grins. She’s never been a woman of many words.
Flanna hasn’t moved or spoken; she waits behind Brit and Shay, glancing around our small group of women.
I take a few steps in Flanna’s direction.
She offers me her best sarcastic smile—one that I’ve missed since Lann died. “It is about time you and my cousin have your alone time. Sorry for all the interruptions before. Part of my prophecy was to make you wait until the right time, which is now.”
“Oh, Flanna, I always wondered if you interrupted us for a reason.” I wrap my arms around her neck, soaking in her warmth and her heart-warming smell of potatoes and chicken worn into her from years of working in the kitchen.
We hold each other for longer than a quick hug, but Flanna has been so distant, so missing from my everyday life, I need to hold her.
“This is something I wished to share with Lann one day. Cherish it. Not everyone has these opportunities, but you and Arland deserve it more than most,” she whispers next to my ear.
For a moment, I will every good feeling inside me to go into her and fill her with peace and love. “I love you, Flanna. You are the best Confidant a girl could have.”
We break our embrace, tears streaking our cheeks, then I turn to Mom. “Ready?”
She takes my hand in hers. “Yes. We should go before time runs out.”
I wave good-bye to the others. Brit blows me a kiss, then Mom leads me up the stairs toward the great hall. She holds her head high and walks without trepidation. Me on the other hand, my feet seem too large; I keep tripping over them. My knees are weak and buckle every few steps.
“Relax, Katriona,” Mom says without looking at me.
Thankfully no one else is around to see my ridiculous display of nerves, and even if they were, they’d think my behavior was over Perth and not Arland. “Sorry. I’m nervous and scared.”
“What are you afraid of, Katriona? Perth will make a wonderful husband. He loves you as much, if not more, than your father ever loved me.”
Somehow I get the feeling we’re being watched, and Mom is not talking about Perth. “Yes, I know he does, Mom. Our relationship has just moved all so fast, but he has shown me kindness unmatched by any other.” Talking like this for these people makes me want to gag, and I’m also not talking about Perth.
She spares a glance at me then looks over my shoulder. I follow her gaze to Leader Dufaigh. He sits at a table in the far corner of the room, waving his hands in conversation with High Leader Maher.
They stop talking, tip their head, then return to whatever it is that’s so important—which is probably something vain or self-serving for Dufaigh and something weak for Maher.
Mom wraps her arm around my shoulders, sweeping me through the rest of the great room. We enter the small foyer-like area then climb the last set of stairs leading to the exit; each step fills my chest with burning exhilaration.
I picture Arland waiting for me in his white tunic, brown leather pants and boots, green eyes blazing in the night. I cannot wait to kiss his soft lips, stare at his slightly crooked nose, hold his strong face in my hands.
Reaching the top step, Mom pulls the invisible gown from her belt, whispers nochtann then places the dress in my hands. “You will have to put this on outside the door.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up her hand before I even utter a word.
“Do not worry, Kate, no one will see you. Arland, Flanna, and many of the others have cast concealment spells over much of the base. These Draíochtans have forgotten how to use and notice even some of the most simplistic of magic.” She shakes her head. “It saddens me to see my home this way, but their ignorance aids us now.”
Leader Maher’s lackadaisical ways infuriate me beyond belief. Dughbal was able to enter Encardia because Draíochtans stopped practicing old magic. What does Leader Maher think will happen if all magic disappears? “Why would Arland’s father allow this to happen? Why isn’t he stronger like his son?”
“Do you honestly believe High Leader Maher is so foolish?”
“I’m surprised he’s allowed this to happen, Mom. He caves to everything Dufaigh wants.”
“Kate, he plays the game the same way as everyone else. The people suffer from the game, but Kimball has no other choice than to allow them to forget. Before this is over, you will be teaching Draíochtans how to use magic. This place will be as it once was.”
She prods my shoulder with her hand, pushing me toward the door. “We are wasting time. You’re going to be late for your own wedding.”
The door in the ground groans as I push it open. The air is heavy, but colder than most nights; fog blankets the forest floor.
Mom closes the door behind her then nudges me forward about ten feet through a concealment spell. The magic caresses my skin as I pass through, telling me I’m safe, reminding me I’m powerful. It’s been so long since I’ve been near strong magic.
“You should change here,” she says.
I untie the golden ropes securing me in my velvet prison, slip my arms out of the sleeves then allow the dress to fall to the ground. The dagger drops next to my feet, but I leave it there. I don’t want to carry a weapon on my wedding night.
Mom helps me fit the silk gown over my head then laces the bodice in the back. The material slides over my skin, cool and soft. Chills run along my arms and legs.
“How’s my hair?” I ask.
Mom runs her fingers through the back of my hair. “The braids all look good, and what is not braided is smooth. I am so happy you allowed Rhoswen to work on your hair again. Now turn around and let me see you.”
Picking up the skirt of the dress, I twirl.
Tears roll down Mom’s cheeks.
“What’s wrong?”
She dabs at her red face with her sleeve. “Nothing is wrong. I cannot believe how grown up you are. You look beautiful, Kate. So beautiful. I just … I wish your father could see you.”
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I rest my head on her shoulder, and for a moment, I cry too. I have a mom, someone who is proud of her little girl, someone who has emotions for her daughter, someone who maybe even sees a little bit of herself in me.
Sniffling, she holds me at arm’s length. “We better stop or we are going to get tears all over your gorgeous dress.”
Mom bends down to pick up my other clothes, folds them and makes them invisible. “You will have to put these back on when you are ready to return inside.”
I laugh. “That may be never, Mom.”
She gives me a knowing look, shaking her head. “I understand, but you must return. And you need to keep your dagger. Put it with these clothes, but do not leave it behind. Ever.”
How did she know? Grabbing the dagger, I place it on top of the invisible clothes. “How much time will we have?”
“No more than two hours. I will be waiting here for you, so when you—”
“Got it. Let’s go, then.” I don’t want to waste any more time talking to Mom. I want to see Arland, kiss Arland, marry Arland. And I want as much time to enjoy him as possible.
Kneeling, she squeezes her right hand into a fist, opens it then transfers a blue flame onto a torch.
“You
guys have been planning a lot together, haven’t you?” I wonder who all has been involved and what I should expect.
“We had to.” Mom reaches the torch out to her right and touches it to some invisible barrier. Blue flames ignite in a straight line ahead of us. She does the same to another barrier on the left. A ten-foot tall wall on both sides of us, as well as our path and my white, silk dress now glow with a soft-blue hue.
My breath catches.
Mom looks over at me with a smile. “You did not think I would allow you to get married without something beautiful to remember it by, did you?”
I don’t know what I thought, but it wasn’t this.
She puts out her hand, indicating for me to walk ahead of her, but instead I link my arm through hers and we proceed together toward Arland and my new future.
I memorize every tree the flames illuminate. Soak in every smell of the forest—pine, dried leaves, dirt, dew, the light sulfuric smell of the fog. The fog itself is beautiful, clouds glowing gray and blue around us.
Mom glances at me from the corner of her eye. “It only gets better. Just you wait.”
Better? “I cannot imagine anything being better than this.”
“Your sister had almost every one of your soldiers out here trying to get this just right. What should I tell her when I return?”
“That I love her.”
“I believe that is appropriate, and I will tell her you were speechless.”
The path takes a sudden turn to the left and leads us down a short hill.
Mom and I fall quiet as we descend flat stone steps built into the side of the hill, placing each foot in front of the other with care. I lift the silk skirt in my hands.
Thank the gods Brit didn’t design any special shoes for me.
The boots are an odd accompaniment with the white gown, but they are more appropriate than any stiletto money could buy.
Reaching the last step, I look up and have to fight against every urge inside me not to let tears fall. Arland stands under a healthy willow tree in front of the river, hands clasped in front of him, wearing his perfect-for-any-occasion regular clothes. Surrounding him are hundreds of white candles, lit with real flames, not blue. Warm yellow light fills the space around him. White jasmine flowers, matching the ones on my gown, sprinkle the ground with their pureness. The air smells sweet from the natural perfume.