Wilde's Army

by Krystal Wade

  He rubs his chin between his thumb and index finger. “Is that all?”

  I shake my head. “No, sir. I want Perth to replace his father as Leader of the Ground Dwellers, and I want councils to be elected by the people—”

  Murchadha raises a bushy, white eyebrow. “You wish to have us force a resignation and redesign our political infrastructure?” he asks, disbelief flooding his voice.

  “Yes, sir. When Perth is allowed to speak, you will see and understand why he must lead his people. And as far as the political structure, too much power rests in the hands of three Leaders. I know there are other Leaders across the world, but you three make the most important of decisions—and look at you. You have yourself buried underground, trying to punish a woman for being in love … a woman who wants to help. Your population is dwindling; your food sources are becoming difficult to procure because there are less and less children to grow produce. Face it; you are barely hanging on. You have two choices: stay here and die, or follow me for a chance to live.”

  A look passes over both Murchadha and Maher, telling me I’ve overstepped my boundaries. Maher grabs Murchadha by the elbow and directs him to the side of my circle protected by magic. The two men confer over something while everyone else is left with nothing else to do but stare.

  “I do not know if talking through this will work. I believe my father will have very little influence now the truth is out about him keeping secrets. Murchadha is a friend, but we rely on the Ground Dwellers for our protections. Dufaigh will certainly call for my father’s head when he is freed, and Leader Murchadha’s if he agrees to your demands.”

  The two men return to the center of the circle. Leader Maher steps in front of Arland and me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Do you have any other requests?”

  “I need the army we spoke of.”

  Inching closer to Arland and me, Leader Maher nods. “You must find a way to convince Dufaigh and his people. Otherwise, if we send our soldiers with you, we will be outnumbered and vulnerable to an attack from within,” he whispers.

  “So you are willing to send your soldiers to follow Kate?” Arland asks.

  Leader Maher clamps his hands on Arland’s shoulders. “I always have been, son, but she still has quite a bit of convincing to do. Without Dufaigh’s approval, I fear you two will be alone.”

  I draw in a ragged breath.

  Arland and his father both glance at me.

  Alone. The word unsettles me to my very core, raises the hair on my neck, makes my palms hot. Alone. Why does it bother me so much?

  Leader Maher gives me a thorough once over then looks back to Arland. “Murchadha has agreed to allow you to be free, but you understand I cannot send soldiers unless—”

  “What was her last request, Leader Maher?” Murchadha breaks in.

  Arland’s father turns to face Murchadha. “She desires an army.”

  He smiles and looks around the crowd, arms raised at his sides. “An army? What does she need an army for? We already have one.”

  Like I haven’t heard that one before.

  Leader Maher drops his hands from Arland’s shoulders. “I am glad you two had your moment of happiness, and I pray for all our sakes it lasts into eternity.” High Leader turns to face Murchadha.

  Arland takes my hand in his.

  “She wishes to lead our people on the path of Light and seek out Darkness, Afton. The Seer who foretold of my son and his bhean chéile’s prophecies saw they would accomplish that goal, but only together and only with an army following Katriona.”

  All pretense of anger drops from Murchadha’s face, making him appear as a child eager for a treat. “Did the Seer receive the message in the utmost clarity?”

  Now they are playing the angry crowd.

  “Afton, you know as well as I do things can change at any time. If someone decides to stray from the path of Light, or—there could be any number of things which make them fail. But one thing I do know, we will all rot if we continue to sit here pretending like nothing is going on.”

  Leader Maher paces closer to Murchadha. “Look up. Everyone, look up. When was the last time you saw the night sky? Katriona already brings light to Encardia, and look what it took … their Binding. Do you deny the power between them?”

  Murchadha shakes his head as he looks from me to Arland.

  Walking before the onlookers, Leader Maher continues, “Will anyone else here deny the magic between them? See for yourself the glow”—he points at us—”Has anyone ever seen a Binding so strong? The bands have not faded, yet they are Bound.”

  Lorne and Maura step forward, joining Leader Maher and Murchadha.

  “Dufaigh will not allow any Ground Dweller to fight for her—she has deceived us. Nor will I allow my sons to fight,” Lorne says, jaw clenched. He flashes narrowed eyes in my direction.

  “The girl imprisoned our Leader and has still not allowed him to speak for himself. I do not trust her. Our people will not fight for her. We would rather rot happily than die in a bloody war, serving a disgraced woman.” Maura’s words are lathered with animosity.

  She’s never truly shown me kindness, but to choose death over life. To choose Darkness. What kind of person wants that? Perth was right about the Ground Dweller’s hatred being long ingrained, but I think the problem runs deeper than that. I think the spell they’re under binds hatred to their core.

  Murchadha straightens his back. “Katriona, would you mind allowing Leader Dufaigh and the other Ground Dwellers to be free?”

  My heart flutters in my chest. “Do we have your word on my requests?”

  “You have my word, but I will not send anyone to fight for you who are unwilling. If you want an army, the army will choose you,” Murchadha says.

  “I think that’s fair.”

  “Now will you release them?” he asks, pointing to the tree which is Dufaigh.

  “No matter what happens, Kate, know that I love you. Know I will never stop fighting for you.” Arland’s sadness weighs his soul down. Sweat slickens his palm. He’s hiding something from me, something he knows but doesn’t want me to.

  Forgetting about everyone gathered around us, I turn to him, leaning against his tall, strong body. “This feels like goodbye, Arland. What is it? What happens? Why won’t you tell me?”

  He shakes his head. “Not a goodbye, just caution, Kate. Dufaigh is not as sensible as my father or Murchadha.”

  “Arland?”

  Standing straight, I take in the twisted expression on his face begging me not to ask anything else. There is no hint of smile in his eyes, no spark of youth I saw under the willow, no Arland.

  I remove my gaze from him then set my sights on Dufaigh. This is my fight, this is my problem yet everyone still knows things I don’t. Everyone continues to withhold information from me when they know I’ll do what I must no matter what.

  Arland has never been one of them.

  He has his reasons—they all do—but it does nothing to ease the hurt.

  I focus on the burning in my heart and the confused thoughts in my head, let them build inside me until they boil over, then channel them into my intent gaze on Dufaigh’s face. He is my problem. He is everyone’s problem.

  I know you’re already with us tonight, but we need more. Release the Dufaighs and the guards. Bring peace to Perth for the decision he is making, bring peace upon everyone. Let them see through the anger of the man who would rather have power than life.

  Protect Arland.

  Protect all I love.

  The longest request I’ve ever sent up sits in my chest like a boulder on paper. I’m flattened, hopeless, lost. I’ve gone from being the happiest I’ve ever been to being baffled.

  When Dufaigh wanted to take Arland away, I thought I’d deliver my uniting speech Mom told me about then. When it wasn’t, I thought for sure I’d deliver when everyone came out here.

  I’ve failed already.

  I cannot unite these people.

  Murchadh
a and Maher have promised Arland to me … alone—and as much as being alone with him both thrills and terrifies me, I doubt when Dufaigh is freed he will allow it. No, I fear I have just started another war within the Draíochtans.

  Or secured one of my visions.

  I will be sent alone into Darkness.

  The Willow, the water, the stars, the guards—why must I always realize what my warnings mean too late?

  I don’t want to be without Arland, without love. I want us in the Meadow with the children from my dreams. I want life. I don’t care about this war, don’t care about power … I care about my heart and freedom.

  Why should I have to lie about who I love to earn an army to fight Darkness? Why should we hide in underground facilities, parading around in fancy dresses with braided hair, eating food we can barely maintain supplies for? Why should Perth have to live in fear of his father just to prove to his people they should do good?

  Perth doesn’t want to marry me; he wants real love, he wants freedom just like I do. Like everyone does. These people need to learn to use old magic and learn to trust in the gods again. They need to fight.

  My breaths come at a rapid pace; air refuses to fill my lungs. I’m hyperventilating and can do nothing to stop it.

  I’ve lost control.

  My legs tremble beneath me as though my body is too heavy for them to hold. The grip I have on Arland’s hand dissolves, and before I know it, I’m on my knees.

  My will to get up … shattered.

  Black fills my sight; there is no world in front of me. Blood boils in my veins and travels throughout my body, singeing every nerve ending. The magic in me rages.

  I am Katriona Maher and I have fire—these people do not.

  They need me yet are unwilling to follow me, unwilling to believe anything I say because of what? Desire for power? For wealth?

  The nightmares I had for years, the visions I’ve experienced in Encardia and the visits from the gods play through my mind. I search my memories for clues, for a way to explain to these people they have to fight, and fight for me, but no clues present themselves.

  Logh orthu! For they know not their ignorance, Griandor. Forgive them for their desire to punish for love. Forgive them for their weakness, for their unwillingness to fight.

  Forgive them, because here they will die.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Slow breaths in and out through my nose revive my lungs and remove the painful constriction from the lack of air, but do little to calm my shaking body. I’m cocooned in flames, in mind-numbing rage. My temples throb with it. If I don’t regain control, Dufaigh will remain trapped, and I will remain alone.

  Stand up, Kate. You can do this. I ball my fists, nails digging into my palms. Fighting with every muscle, every ounce of magic erupting from my soul, I get up, open my eyes and face the cruel reality of my life.

  What I see before me is nothing I could have expected. Dufaigh no longer looks like a tree—the sprites surrounding him have disappeared into the protective blue circle around us—and he stands by Murchadha and Maher. The guard’s arms no longer hold an empty space where Arland stood before I took over. Perth is positioned on my left, wide eyes a deeper green than ever. He’s smiling, mouth closed, but relaxed.

  I get the feeling I’ve done something right; his face screams pride, but … .

  Turning, I see Arland wears the same expression.

  Everyone wears the same expression.

  What did I do? An urge to run, to hide, to just be out of here, creeps into my thoughts and takes over my muscles. I’m on my toes, ready to grab Arland by the hand again and go—

  He reaches for me first. “There is no need to run. You have done what you needed to do, Kate. You have given a speech powerful enough to unite our people.”

  The bravado in Arland’s thoughts matches the look on his face, but I haven’t given a speech. I haven’t said a word since I agreed to the terms of an army with Murchadha. And since then, I’ve only spoken internally to the gods—to their magic—for help with Dufaigh.

  I shake my head. “What speech, Arland?”

  “Dearest Katriona, you must be confused,” Leader Murchadha says, interrupting my silent conversation with Arland.

  Arland’s eyes break their lock with mine then he turns toward Murchadha.

  I do the same.

  The Leader of the Sea Dwellers steps toward us, arms outstretched before him like a welcoming embrace. “While you lost control of your emotions, your thoughts betrayed you. Magic carried out your thoughtful words. The images you have seen of death—of war—played around the circle you cast to protect us. To say your thoughts were horrifying would be a misstatement. However, what you said was what we needed to hear. What you have seen, we needed to see. We are a tired people, Katriona, and have lost sight of what remains important. Years of living in the Darkness—living as captives in our own world—have diminished our sanity, and for that we apologize.”

  My jaw falls slack. Tears well in my eyes, blurring my vision and turning everything blue. Arland wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into an embrace he hasn’t given me in public since … ever. I rest my head on his chest, inhale his scent, revel in his warmth and love.

  “The two of you have broken the law, but Leader Dufaigh, High Leader Maher and I forgive you—everyone forgives you—and when the war is over, you will be returned to your Leader status. Encardia needs more High Leaders like the two of you, but since we agreed to adjust our political structure … .” he trails off, and everything falls silent.

  Dufaigh forgives me? A minute ago he was ready to punish me for the rest of my life. Murder my mother and Arland.

  “Whether his forgiveness is real or not does not matter, Kate.”

  Maybe Arland is right, but if Leader Murchadha’s waiting for me to tell them how I plan to restructure, he’ll be waiting awhile. There is no plan. I’d like to say be more like America, but they wouldn’t understand that, and I’m not even sure if I do. Revolutionize. The word spoken in Griandor’s voice floats through my head again, but what does it mean? Revolution. America. American Revolution. Patrick Henry. Brad’s speech in fifth grade … .

  Wiping my tears on Arland’s soft tunic, I take a deep breath, let my arms fall from him, then once again face Murchadha. “The political structure needs to be adjusted, but you will still need High Leaders. There only needs to be a more equal division of power. And individuals need to be afforded rights, protecting them from ever being harmed by anyone in a leadership position. The government should be for the people, by the people.”

  If only I’d paid more attention in my history classes. I’d never found them interesting, but now I’d like to travel back in time and be the star student.

  Murchadha holds up his hand. “We will discuss these things after the war is over. For now, I would like to ask of everyone gathered, who will fight for Katriona?”

  Before anyone answers, a black spot appears in my peripheral vision. Standing in my protective barrier are Cadman, Saidear, and the other soldiers from Watchers Hall who ran the rescue mission to Wickward. They all glow with fire … with magic. They step through the barrier then join the crowd, bringing with them hundreds of faces I don’t recognize.

  “Cadman! You made it. We were beginning to worry when chatter box communications discontinued.” High Leader Maher watches behind Cadman as more and more soldiers, women, and children come through the barrier. “I take it all has been lost at Wickward?”

  Cadman shakes his head. “No, sir.”

  He looks at the gathered crowd then smiles when he sees me and Arland. “From the looks of things, I think it safe to say their truth has come out?”

  Leader Maher laughs. “Yes, Cadman. If Wickward has not been lost, why have you brought everyone with you?”

  “To fight for Katriona, sir.”

  Those who were staring at the sky now stare at Cadman in all his glory. His normally deep wrinkles appear smooth, his red hair has grow
n at least an inch, reaching down to his ears, and his body is covered in leather armor.

  “So you knew she needed an army?” Leader Maher asks.

  Cadman doesn’t look away from his High Leader. “Yes, sir, and after what I witnessed during our travels between Watchers Hall and Willow Falls … I vowed to be a part of that army.”

  Dufaigh steps forward. “What is it you witnessed, soldier?”

  “Katriona rescued every one of us. She was attacked by a shifter—the same creatures which infiltrated both Watchers Hall and Wickward—and nearly bled to death. She protected us through the forests, fought off daemons when we were attacked, but what made me vow to always fight for her … with her … was when she died.” Cadman meets my eyes, crossing his fist over his chest like he did so long ago.

  Murchadha and Maher exchange glances.

  “She died?” Leader Maher asks.

  “Yes, and was brought back to life moments later. Do you know what she did? She did not give up nor did she allow the rest of us to keep fighting without help … she fought harder until every daemon was dead. Right then I knew we were on the right path. Before I traveled to Wickward, she instructed me how to use old magic, and I was able to save our people from the same fate many of our fellow Draíochtans have already faced. They followed me here to fight. Without Katriona, they would all be dead.”

  Leader Dufaigh squints his beady, white eyes then comes closer to me.

  Although his demeanor appears to be one of a more friendly nature, his presence disturbs me. I rub my hands together and shift from foot to foot.

  Arland holds out his arm at his side, pushing me slightly behind him.

  He doesn’t believe in Dufaigh any more than I do, but the Leader makes his way around Arland then stands in front of me anyway.

  “For years, I have been more concerned with control rather than life. Tonight, Katriona, you reminded us we were all going to perish. I will agree with your restructure, but more importantly, I will fight for you. Tell us what we must do and we will do it.”