Rhoswen crawls from the corner she’s rested alone in all night, then sits near the flames. Shaking her head, she pulls a small glass vial from the pocket inside her armor and spins it between her fingers. She removes the cork cap, then adds a few drops of clear liquid into the iron pot sitting on a flat stone over the fire.
“What’s that?” I whisper.
She glances at me and smiles, a drooping smile. “Jasmine oil. Your mother gave it to me before we left. She said to use it when my stomach could no longer handle the ill effects of war.” Rhoswen pauses, leans her head over the steaming pot, then draws in a deep breath. “I hope the smell does not bother you. Your mother said it would help with the anxious feelings.”
I’m sure my mother knew exactly when Rhoswen would use the flower extract. Something tells me she needs someone to talk to, and I prefer the sweetness over the smell of death any day. Laughing, I sit up.
Arland reaches for me, but he’s asleep so deeply I’m sure he won’t stir for long.
“The smell doesn’t bother me. Do you mind if I join you? I can’t sleep. I’ve already thrown up a few times since we came in here; maybe the jasmine will help me, too.” I hate throwing up, and I hate that every time I’ve run out of this cave, the Morans and Bheagans stared up at me. At least I can’t see the Gaothans.
The small, blonde Ground Dweller shakes her head and scoots over to give me room to sit by the pot. Crossing my legs in front of me, I inhale the sweet jasmine extracts, but hints of sulfur mix with the welcome air and turn my stomach. My mouth waters with a steady stream of salty fluids. I jump to my feet and run out of the cave. Finding a pile of boulders covered in bright-green moss, I throw up next to them, covering the ground in little more than clear liquids.
I take a deep breath and gag again. My stomach squeezes and my eyes water, but there’s nothing left in me to heave. I haven’t eaten well for days—months, considering how long everyone says we’ve been gone. The meal Muriel cooked for us went to waste.
Sweat pours down my face and freezes me to the bones.
“Kate?” Arland calls as calm as a warm breeze.
Holding my breath, I lean against the damp boulders and close my eyes. I imagine our life when this is all over. Imagine the beautiful meadows filled with purple and white wildflowers. Imagine spending days locked in each other’s arms, sharing our memories. Imagine raising a family, working with horses and maybe even little Anna.
I pray that’s not just a daydream … .
“Throwing up again?” he asks, rubbing my cheek.
I nod, afraid speaking may cause me to retch once more.
Arland puts his arm around my back, pulling me away from my rock and closer to comfort. “Would you like me to carry you inside?”
How could I live with myself if I allowed him to carry me like a child? We’re at war. I’m a Leader whether I want to be or not. This is my duty. The others cannot see me so weak.
“I’ll walk.” I smack my hand to my mouth as if that will prevent me from dry heaving, but no need; my stomach settles.
“Death is not an easy thing to get used to,” he says, drawing me into him. “You missed some excitement earlier.”
“Excitement?”
Arland nods. “Before I fell asleep, Cadman came in carrying a few rabbits. You should have seen him. The man has never smiled so broadly. We may actually have a small meal before the battle.”
I walk next to my love, burying my face in his tunic to filter out the bad air. “I’m sorry I missed it, but I’m also glad I slept.”
Arland kisses the top of my head. “Me, too.”
Inside the cave, Rhoswen sits by the fire where I left her, but she’s no longer alone. Flanna and Cadman flank the young Dresser’s side, and Perth has his back to me and Arland. Flanna holds my gaze, staring at me like a concerned mother for a child, like she’d love to cram a bunch of food packed with carbohydrates down my throat.
I’m fine, I mouth to her. I’m the last person people should be worried about.
She shakes her head and motions for me to sit next to her.
Arguing with her would prove pointless, so I take a seat beside Flanna, cross my legs in front of me, then lean on Arland’s shoulder.
“Have you shown them your catch yet, Cadman?” he asks.
My redheaded friend’s mouth falls slack. She turns toward Cadman. “You found f-food?”
Cadman nods, a sincere smile reaching up to his blue eyes. “Caught food, Flanna. We have three rabbits.”
Flanna glances around the cave and leans in front of Rhoswen. “Only three? How will we feed them all … ?”
“Everyone will receive small portions … very small portions.”
“No. Kate needs to eat. Her sister needs to eat. Whatever they do not finish—”
“I’ll be fine, Flanna. I’d much rather the other soldiers get some food before me. They’ve earned it, and I’ll just throw it up anyway.” As if on cue, my stomach growls.
Flanna purses her lips, staring at my traitorous belly. “Which is why you need food.”
“I’m not the only one throwing up,” I say, raising my voice to a near stubborn child’s level.
Rhoswen’s face lights as if she’s just found a twenty-dollar bill crammed in the pocket of her coat from a previous winter. “I nearly forgot … .” She gets up and then darts back to her corner of the cave.
“Are you sure she was freed from Foghlad’s spell, Perth?” I ask, fighting back a fit of laughter.
Everyone but Perth glares at me. He smiles, eyes staring off in the distance, in the same direction Rhoswen ran.
“Sorry.” Maybe I’m losing my mind. I guess her running off wasn’t that funny.
“I am not sure she was ever under the spell. She played the game well though,” he says.
“She is very strong, Perth.” Arland squeezes my hand. “I believe his eyes have found another woman to long after.”
“We missed so much while we were gone.”
“Got it,” Rhoswen says, reappearing out of the shadows of the cave, holding up a sandwich bag full of a brown substance. Whatever it is, I know it’s from my mother and probably didn’t come from Encardia.
“Got what?” Flanna reaches up and squeezes the bottom of the bag. “Bread crumbs?”
“I have no idea what this is. Kate’s mother gave this to me, as well as the jasmine. Leader Wilde said if anyone became nauseated, they could mix this with hot water and drink it as some sort of herbal concoction.”
“Tea. Herbal tea. My mother gave you ginger powder. Is that not something you have here?” They don’t need to answer the question. The fact my mother thought to bring ground ginger from Virginia tells me she knew we’d need it, and Encardia doesn’t have it.
Flanna and Rhoswen shake their heads, but I keep my eyes on my sister in the back of the cave as she stretches her arms above her head and yawns. Brit looks at me, then everyone else, and groans as she stands. She slowly walks over then sits next to me, linking her arm through mine.
“What’s going on?” She breathes in through her nose. “Oh my God. It smells so good over here.”
“Mom sent us jasmine oil and ginger powder to help with nausea,” I say, staring into Brit’s green eyes. It’s hard to imagine that a few hours ago, she was almost dead. If Arland and I had been gone any longer—no, I don’t want to think about that.
“Great! Can I have some ginger? I think Vanora needs some, too. She’s been whining all night … .” Brit sits up and glares at Perth, who’s still staring at Rhoswen. “Perth, really, would you just talk to her?”
Perth peels his gaze away and meets my eyes, shaking his head, expression falling, revealing a grim frown. “She is not the little girl I told you she once was.”
“That much I can tell.”
“I still sense her to be dark like my father. I have not trusted her for a moment since before we left Willow Falls.”
Would I have treated Brad the same way if he’d revealed his
feelings for me earlier on? Would I have cast him aside because I didn’t feel the same? I’d like to think not. Even if he walked around Watchers Hall with me, completely healthy, I would have chosen Arland.
Poor Vanora has been in love with Perth since they were children. Life changes, but she doesn’t act dark—annoying yes, but not evil—not like Perth suggests. I think she just wants to be needed, talked to, desired, and she still sees the little boy she once knew.
The cave rumbles like we’ve been hit by an earthquake measuring seven-point-oh on the Richter scale. Rocks fall from above our heads, widening the hole above us where the smoke escapes. We scatter away from the fire to avoid the falling death warrants.
Aside from everyone breathing heavily, it appears we’re all unharmed. The rotting air fills my lungs, turning my stomach again. I rush back to the jasmine and replace the dank oxygen with sweet scents, sitting only when I’m sure the nausea passes.
Brit coughs. Blood seeps from her face, and she runs to join me. “I hate this place. How are we supposed to fight again? The smell alone is enough to kill us!”
Arland casts a weary glance toward the cave exit. “Cook the rabbits and make your tea now. We may not have much time left.” He walks out, shoulders squared, head held high.
I gasp, taking in the shocked expressions on the faces all my friends. We may not have much time left. Before war? Or before our lives are over? Or both?
Watching him leave, I draw in more of the aromatherapy and consider my existence and what we have to face if we want to keep our lives, keep our world. This throwing up has got to stop. I have to suck it up, grin and bear it, get over my weakness so we can have a chance at survival. I back away from the iron pot, cringing through the nausea but not giving in.
Brit takes my hand in hers and squeezes, sweat covering her palm. Flanna scoots closer, sandwiching my sister between us, then rests her arm across Brit’s shoulders. Rhoswen sits on the other side of me, takes my left hand, then reaches out for Perth. He looks at her, then at me, then at Rhoswen, and laces his fingers with hers, closing the space between them, confirming my suspicions about a relationship and earning a few snickers from Vanora who is still sitting out of sight. But her voice is unmistakable.
Cadman pulls a leather satchel from behind his back and lifts the flap. He removes three skinned rabbits and a few straight sticks stripped of all their bark, then prepares them for the fire.
Afraid I might lose my ability to keep my stomach calm like I swore I would, I turn away.
“Do you need me to gather fresh water to make the tea?” Rhoswen asks, handing me the sandwich bag with her free hand.
“Yes.”
She glances at her connection to Perth, frowns, then lets him go. Rhoswen follows the same path out of the cave as Arland did.
“I am going to keep watch over her,” Perth says, getting to his feet and jogging after her.
Smiling, I turn to Flanna. “And we’ll need another pot. Do you still have more? You didn’t lose any in Draodín?”
“Allow those savages to keep my fine cookware? Never!” Flanna jumps to her feet and runs further into the cave. She rustles around through her bags, metal clanking off metal while she hums a tune I haven’t heard her hum in ages, then returns with a huge grin. “One of them tried to steal this, but I whacked him over the head with the blunt side of my sword before he could get too far.”
Laughter rumbles in my chest and escapes my mouth, lifting my dampened spirits in the process. Flanna kneels beside me, chuckling and shaking her head as if she cannot believe her own reaction. Too many months have passed since she’s been the sarcastic, witty friend I’m dependent on. Tension falls from my shoulders, tension I didn’t realize I was carrying. “I’ve missed you, Flanna. This side of you. You were getting better before we split up, but now … you’re … you’re you again.”
She touches her fingers to her smiling lips. “I have missed me, too.”
“Has missing Lann gotten any easier?” I’m not sure I want to know the answer. If I lose Arland, I will endure the same pain as Flanna.
“No.” Without another word, she places the pot on the gray flat stone and sits.
Cadman rotates his catches over the flames, creating an aroma so mouthwatering, I want to rip the food apart and scarf it down, scalding or not. He smiles but keeps his gaze on his task, orange light dancing in his blue eyes.
Rhoswen and Perth return, each carrying a small bucket of water. He watches her with the same passion I’ve been watching the food. The corners of his mouth twist into an adorable expression. The time they spent in Mhara must have really been special—or horrible. She couldn’t stand him before they left. Now, it seems they can’t stand to be apart. Rhoswen glances up at Perth, then to me, her cheeks turning bright pink.
Feeling like I’m invading their privacy, I look away. I don’t understand why the two of them feel the need to peek at me before they touch or smile at one another. Do they think I’ll be upset? Because I was Perth’s first kiss? His intended? I’m glad the two of them have found something in one another, and I pray they survive to see the other side of this, to thrive and be content together. That’s what everyone deserves. A peaceful, normal life with someone they love.
“She is not born of Leader blood,” Flanna whispers near my ear. “Rhoswen knows it, too. Every time he touches her, every time she looks at him in that way, they are breaking rules.”
“Oh?” I say, appalled, remembering the ridiculous, but not unfamiliar, rules of nobility.
“Have you noticed how often they look at you?”
I nod.
“Perth feels guilty because marrying you has been ingrained in him since he was born. Never mind the fact I am positive he had some strong feelings for you.”
“I know he did.” I remember the first time I kissed Perth, the show we put on, and how he desperately wanted more because he didn’t think he’d ever experience something so amazing again. “But there won’t be any more arranged marriages, remember? That was part of the deal. So he should be free to be Bound to anyone.”
Flanna snorts. “Arranged marriages were part of the deal, but you never mentioned anything about who could marry who. You may want to remember that.”
“We have the water. Now what?” Rhoswen asks, liquid sloshing out of her bucket as she stops beside us.
I point to Flanna’s prized pot. “Pour some in there, and pour some in the other pot with the jasmine. The water is almost all gone.”
Perth takes Rhoswen’s bucket, sets one down next to Flanna, then pours water into each iron pot. He glances at Rhoswen and then to my Confidant.
“I know you are watching me. Please, I cannot control how I feel. Do you plan to inform the Leaders?” he mutters, squeezing his fingers around the metal handle.
“I just did,” Flanna says, hooking her thumb toward me. “She does not like the rule. I am sure she will try to change it. She does everything else.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “I should have known.”
“The rabbit is ready.” Cadman stands. “I am going to find Arland to ask how he wishes the food to be served.”
“You don’t have to do that, Cadman. Feed everyone else.” I sprinkle some of the ginger powder into the boiling water.
Saidear and Dunn rise from their makeshift cots, turning their noses into the air and smiling.
Flanna jumps to her feet, holding out her arms at her sides as if she can block everyone from approaching. “Get Arland, Cadman. If Kate is to kill a god, she needs food, drink, and rest. And since she refuses to think clearly, it will obviously take an intervention by my cousin.”
Cadman nods.
Looking over her shoulder, she makes eye contact with him. “And hurry, the soldiers are waking.”
Chapter Seventeen
Eating with a crowd around me, waiting to get my leftovers, is not my idea of fun. I’m not sure why Arland sided with Flanna, and as good as the food tastes, I’m not pleased with hi
m. I’d like to sit here and protest by eating as slowly as possible, but I don’t.
Everyone is starving, and apparently, Flanna’s surprise has hit its limits. People would rather not eat than eat the same thing every day for a couple months straight.
The rabbit is warm and flavorful and tastes just like chicken. Doesn’t everything? Shoving the last bits of meat into my mouth, I wipe my hands on my pants then cross my arms over my chest and scowl at Arland.
He laughs, but it’s reserved, not as carefree as normal. Abandoning the small bones on a rock near the fire, I stand to join him, Flanna, and Cadman in their little circle near the cave exit, but Perth grabs my wrist.
“What?” I ask, shaking myself free.
“Are you finished?” He points toward the uneaten rabbit.
I nod. “Remember, small portions.”
Perth’s face pales, making him appear as white as snowcapped mountains. “I know.”
Turning, I jog to Arland before anyone else can get their hands on me. He stands in his usual Leader position, jaw set, whispering with Cadman and Flanna.
“I’ve eaten. Are you guys happy now?”
Flanna glances at me but doesn’t stop talking. “What do you mean the Bheagans refuse to fight anymore, Arland?”
Arland clears his throat. “After seeing Kate’s power last night when she was upset with Humu, they feel your offering was not good enough and want to return to Draodín.”
“Offering?” I raise my eyebrow, air escaping my lungs. “What offering?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “They are self-serving, Kate. Convincing Bheagans to help required an offering.”
“More so than saving our world and potentially theirs from a dark god?” My anger echoes throughout the cave, quieting the group of people fighting over pieces of roasted rabbit behind us. “What did you offer them?”
Arland reaches through our small group and wraps his hand around my upper arm, directing me outside. Flanna and Cadman follow us.
“She offered them herself, Kate,” Arland says once we’re outside.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” The rotting smell fills my nose and lungs with each rapid breath I take, but I am not going to throw up. I refuse. My friend gave herself away! “Why on earth would you do that, Flanna?”
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