by Jamie Day
I wondered if Tristan had the same problem. Perhaps he never knew he snored, and didn’t realize the weakness in his guard.
We waited, crouched and ready for a sign that our captor was dreaming. It felt like the night was passing us by, and every passing moment made me nervous for the coming dawn. I wished I could see the sky or Taylor’s Ridge. It would help me know how close to death I truly was.
As I started doubting my alliance with Darian, a raucous sound started. It began low, like rocks grinding together, then grew loud and sharp. Tristan’s snoring rivaled anything my father had ever conjured. His was the thunder in the dark, worthy of a thousand drops of rain. I shuffled toward the small opening, but Darian held my leg.
“Wait a moment,” he said, crawling past me. “Where do we head once we’re outside?”
“We should go to the lake. Aisling is on the other side.”
Darian pointed to my brother. “You’ll need to go first.”
“Why me?” Ethan asked. He caught his words and covered his mouth to silence his voice. “Why should I go first?” This time, he whispered.
Darian leaned closer us. “Listen,” he said, “We can’t just run out of here. Someone’s going to hear us, and once that man wakes up, he’ll chase us down.” He must have seen the fear in my eyes, because he explained himself further. His voice was low and ominous. “You’re going to knock his head with a rock,” he said, pointing to Ethan.
I grabbed Darian’s hurt arm with a grip that showed him every bit of my intention. “That’s not a plan,” I growled. “You’re going to get us killed.”
“Isn’t that the point,” he said, wincing. “We’re all dead, anyway. I’m just trying to give us a chance to escape.”
Before I could respond, Ethan crept through the smokehouse opening to the outside.
Darian was quick to follow, surprising me with a sudden burst of energy. Since meeting him here in this place, I hadn’t seen him move much, but with a flash of shadow, he left me alone in the smokehouse. I had no choice but to follow.
As I crawled through the tiny hole, everything spun in a blur of commotion and silent chaos. Near the fire, I saw my brother lift a stone and smack Tristan in the head with such force that I thought the man would die. When Tristan shuddered and shook, I gasped. I was certain he was dead.
Ethan stole Tristan’s long sword from the soil, dashed toward me and grabbed my arm. “Come on,” he hissed, pulling me away from the smokehouse.
I was already running and we quickly caught up to Darian, as he scrambled in the dark.
“Go faster,” ordered Ethan, giving Darian and encouraging push.
I caught his lead and grabbed Darian’s arm with my free hand. I pulled him with me and ran as fast as our two bodies would allow. I was frantic and the blood in my legs burned from lack of movement. This was the certain flight of fate. If we didn’t make it to the lake, and then safely across, we would die. This wasn’t a race; it was life or the death to come.
“Which direction?” asked Ethan. “Where’s the lake?”
I pointed at the trees ahead of us. “That way.” I remembered we had come from the forest, but it had been dark then, too. I had no idea what direction to flee.
Darian coughed again and leaned on me. Apparently, his burst of energy had expired. The man was so heavy, so weak. I stumbled and fell to the ground from his weight.
Ethan turned back to help us. “Come on,” he said, pleading as he tugged me to a stand. He used the sword as a support. “We must keep going.”
While we struggled to get Darian to his feet, a voice called out like a banshee in the night.
“Faerie!”
One word from Jory was all it took change my fear to terror. My blood turned to ice and chilled every part of me as I realized that we had been discovered.
Dogs barked. All around us, the forest came alive with chaos and yelling. There were voices of anger, panic, and—although I didn’t understand the words—there were curses.
“Which way?” Ethan pointed the sword at the darkness.
“I don’t know,” I yelled. “Keep going.”
“If we’re going the wrong direction, we’ll be trapped here.”
“Just keep going,” I yelled again. “We need to find the lake.”
“It’s that way.” Darian’s voice was faint, but firm. He coughed his words and pointed away from where I had. “The beach is there.”
Without hesitation, Ethan darted in that direction, swinging at the brush with the long sword while scattering small rodents that scrambled past our feet. Darian and I followed him. Darian was weak, and his grunts of pain hurt me to hear, but I was grateful for his effort. He was trying to run. We crashed through the trees behind Ethan. Just as Darian had told us, we arrived at the beach.
Ahead of us, Ethan dragged a wide boat through the sand. “Help me,” he said, “we’re almost there.
We weren’t almost there. The boats were high on the open shore and anyone chasing us would certainly find us as easy prey. Angry villagers flooded the trees behind us, yelling at the dark. In a matter of moments, they would arrive.
“Help my brother,” I ordered Darian, leaving him next to the wooden vessel.
“Where are you going?”
I ignored him. I ran toward the other boats and started grabbing oars. I didn’t know anything about boats, but knew we needed oars to move them. I also knew that no one could follow us in a boat without them. I had a dozen in my arms and was almost to the water when the first arrow hit my bundle. The wood stung my arms and knocked me to the ground as it scattered.
“Come on, Rhiannon!” Ethan struggled with the boot, trying to flip it over while pointing behind me.
The arrow that had knocked the paddles from my grip lay helpless on the sand in front of me. Red feathers. Just like I had seen the other night. The arrow was the same as the one my father had held in my memory. I collected the paddles again as another arrow whistled above my head. This one lodged into the back of the boat.
“Forget those,” yelled Darian. He coughed again. “Get in the boat!” His arm was bleeding but he didn’t seem to care. He shoved the boat through the last bit of sand and into the water.
I refused to leave the paddles. If our pursuers managed to use just one, they would catch us on the lake. I was certain of it.
“Get in the boat!” Darian grabbed my arm. I hadn’t seen him come back for me.
The boat bobbed on the lake while Ethan floundered on the side, trying to climb in. Darian pulled me close. As we neared the water, another arrow tore a hole in my gown near my thigh. I heaved the pile of oars into the boat and then leapt over its side.
Darian joined me and, with his good arm, pulled Ethan into the shallow sanctuary.
“Let’s go,” he said, glancing back at me.
I held up a paddle. An easy target, it flew from my hands, stinging them as it toppled on top of Ethan, a red-feathered arrow stuck in the blade.
“Come on.” Darian sounded frantic. “Row us out of here.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what that means. I don’t know boats.”
Someone grabbed my hair, yanking it back to pull me out of the boat and into the water. I screamed. Ethan thrust the arrowed oar at me, missing my head, but catching whoever held me. After a grunt and a splash, my hair fell free. Darian scrambled to the middle of the boat and grabbed an oar with both hands. The boat rocked and I felt as if it would tip us into the depths.
“Don’t move,” he ordered. He dug his oar into the water and pushed it toward Morgan. We thrust away, but followed the shoreline.
“That way,” I said, pointing away from the beach. “Our village is over there.”
I didn’t think he heard me, or cared. As I spoke, he dove on top of me, smothering me. Another arrow struck the inside wall of the boat at the same place where he had come from.
“Listen to me,” he said, wincing with each word. “I need your help. You need to row, or we’re dead.”
A hand gripped the top of the boat from the depths of the water. I kicked the fingers repeatedly until they disappeared.
Darian resumed his place at the middle of the boat and yanked the arrow from the wall. Then he thrust another oar blade into the water, moving us again. “Sit by me,” he ordered. He glanced at my brother. “Or, you can do it. I’ll need both arms. Come on; just do what I do, only on the other side.”
I scrambled, dizzy from the rocking motion, and sat next to him.
We were on the lake, but not far from the shore, drifting, not going anywhere. Several men dragged another boat to the water while a man with a bow scuffled with marked men on the beach. Our captors had been right—the men of Morgan were dangerous. By the look of it, they were winning, although the man’s strikes with the end of his bow seemed to keep him free of their blows. I stared at the fighting men and quickly realized who the bowman was. Cameron Barry. A man of Aisling; a friend of my family. He had tried to kill us. Had he killed Sean?
“Grab an oar,” said Darian, breaking my thoughts. As I looked over at him, he held one in the air. “And do as I do, at the same time.”
I held the oar up to repeat his motion.
Ethan yelled. “Look, they can’t chase us. We’ve got all the oars.”
I didn’t care. Panic overcame me as I watched Cameron load a long arrow into his bow and aim it. I yelled and dug my paddle into the water, only to lose it.
“Duck!” Darian hovered over me and grunted. Immediately, he slumped onto me, smothering me with his weight again.
There was a sickening dull thud of an arrow hitting flesh. Darian yelled. The arrow had grazed his leg. If he hadn’t covered me, I would have been its victim. I grabbed another oar and dug the flat blade into the water, taking care to hold on tighter.
We moved again.
“That’s it.” Darian groaned while he struggled to resume sitting. “Now, do it when I say.” He grabbed an oar. As he lowered it to the water, he nodded his head. “Now.”
I repeated the action. The movement was a graceful change from a moment ago. The boat went straight. Not toward home, but in the direction we were pointed.
“That’s right,” said Darian, turning to look at me. He glanced behind him. “Okay,” he said, panting, “where’s Aisling?”
“There.” Ethan pointed to the distant field to the south that I knew so well. It was home.
I turned back toward the beach we had escaped and saw Cameron in a scuffle with the men from Morgan. I stared at the beach. The man who had grabbed the boat was pulling himself out the lake and quickly joined the bray. Pleased at every punch that landed on Cameron, I didn’t listen to the conversation next to me. My brother’s voice shook me from my new focus.
“Rhiannon?”
“Yes,” I said, turning to answer. “I’m listening.”
“Then row.”
The angst in Ethan’s voice told me that I had missed something important. I glanced over at Darian, but he just stared back at me, alternating rubbing his thigh and his wounded arm. He was covered in more blood than I had remembered. He also wasn’t rowing. I opened my mouth to question the command, but he spoke out before I let the words free.
“Go ahead, Rhiannon, row.”
I did as I was told. As I thrust the oar into the water, we moved again, only this time turning away from the shore. Understanding the motion better, I made a second stroke, turning us again. When my third attempt hit the water, I felt the boat move straighter, and knew that Darian was rowing with me.
“I’ve got it now,” I told him, pleased with my new skill. I looked over at Darian and back at Ethan. “We’ll make it without a problem.”
I shouldn’t have spoken. Before I finished my sentence, another arrow sailed past my head and sank silently into the lake.
“Keep going,” I said, suddenly motivated and understanding that the danger was as real as before.
Dawn had arrived. The sun wasn’t up, but violet and apricot streaks covered the sky and highlighted everything in a soft pale blue.
My arms hurt from rowing and my hands burned from the tight grip I held on the oar. Still, I kept rowing. Why did the lake have to be so large? I stopped when Ethan said, and resumed only when ordered. I never looked behind me, toward home; I didn’t need to. Morgan was shrinking. A sudden jolt rocked me backward into my brother. I dropped my oar into the water. We had reached Aisling.
Common Ground
I leaned over, biting back a cry as throbbing pain from our flight from Morgan reached my arms and legs. I knelt and scooped a handful of water; it refreshed me like the cool morning and calmed my stomach. As I swallowed, the familiar call of bluebirds welcomed me back.
“Hurry, Rhiannon,” Ethan pleaded. He dragged his long sword while scrambling toward a group of nearby horses. “We’re almost safe.”
“No.” I lifted my head and folded my arms. “I’m not going home.”
Darian lay on the gravel, motionless. It appeared he lacked the energy to move. As I leaned over him to listen for a sign of life, Ethan returned to us and grabbed my arm.
“Leave him,” he told me. “Let’s find Father. Then we’ll come back for him.”
I heard a quiet breath. Darian was alive, barely.
“You get Father,” I said, looking up at my brother and shaking my arm free from his grip. “I’m going to help this man.”
“He’s not going anywhere,” said Ethan. My brother was whining; I could tell he was tired, too.
“Then help me,” I said. “I need to get him someplace safe.” I reached low and tried lifting Darian from his good arm, but failed. I dropped his arm with a grunt. “Come on, Darian,” I said. Speaking loud again felt so refreshing. “Get up. We need to get away from the shore.”
Ethan leaned behind Darian’s head and thrust him forward to sit. Darian gave a low, guttural scream and opened his eyes.
“I can’t move,” he moaned. He coughed again. This time, blood dripped from the bottom of his lip.
“We’ll help you,” I told him. I knelt below his good shoulder and lifted with all the strength I could muster. We were able to stand. “Good,” I said. “Now, let’s go east.”
“That’s not the way home,” protested Ethan. He stabbed the ground with his sword.
“I won’t say it again. I’m not going home.” I wanted to smack the ignorance out of my brother, but I couldn’t reach him. Besides, I carried a man on my shoulders. “I can’t take this man to the village; he’s in danger there.” I took a couple steps.
“Where will you go?” Ethan was protesting, but following my steps. “You won’t be safe anyplace.”
“To my land,” I answered. “There, we will be safe. We’ll hide in the cave if trouble comes. Plus—” I paused. “—no one knows it’s my land. No one would think I would go there.”
My brother leaned on his sword and stared at me. Darian was heavy; I took a few more steps to keep from collapsing.
“Why would you help him?” asked Ethan. “If he’s responsible for Sean’s death, then let him die. Let him die in the same place.”
I looked around. We were near the same spot where I had found the body of my beloved. Fate had carried me full circle. It could be a fitting end to all the trouble I had known in a year, yet I couldn’t let it end this way; death was not an answer for the questions of another.
“No,” I said. “I won’t let him die. If I can help him, I will.” I turned to Darian and stared into his eyes. “Because you helped us when you didn’t need to.”
Ethan made a long fleeting look south before walking toward us. Using his sword as a crutch, he propped himself under Darian’s injured arm and stepped forward.
My brother and I struggled as we dragged the injured man. We dropped him more than once as we walked as close to the shore as we dared—enough to allow us a view of the other side of the lake—while constantly watching for pursuers. Morgan was far and I couldn’t tell what had happened there. Fortunately, bo
ats never left the beach. Once across the horse meadow, we went deep into the forest toward Taylor’s Ridge.
When we reached the stream marking the edge of Owen Dorsey’s land, we dropped Darian in a bed of ferns and rested. Knowing we were on my land again made me braver. While Ethan and I sat on mossy stones, I stretched my legs and I allowed myself the needed groans that my body screamed to release. Darian lay quietly, watching us with eyes that were shallow and vacant.
“He’s safe here,” Ethan told me in a whisper. “We can leave him at the cave and no one will find him.”
I was too exhausted to argue with my brother, only able to nod my head in agreement. I had been foolish to think that bringing Darian here was a good idea. My body hurt like it never had before, my brother didn’t want to help, and from the look of him, Darian would most likely die before midday.
“Let’s get him to the cave,” I told Ethan. “Come on.”
The rest replenished some of our lost energy. Darian felt lighter as we carried him toward the mountain. Sooner than I had expected, we knelt at the entrance of the cave.
The cave felt colder than I remembered. Musty air hung low and stole the freshness from the surrounding forest. This place had seemed so magical last season, both times: when I had first discovered its existence with my friends, and later when I had shown it to Sean. Sean. The last time I had been here was with him. Today, I had dragged the man responsible for his death here, out of a strange commitment to save his life. As if he could read my thoughts, Darian coughed again, and spat blood onto the rocks.
I rubbed the diamond on my necklace and closed my eyes. “What should I do, Sean?” I whispered. I didn’t want anyone to die.
I opened my eyes and stared at the man on the ground near me. That man had saved my life. I could save him, but needed to work fast.
“Ethan,” I said, calling my brother back from beyond the cave’s gate where he had wandered. “I’m going to stay here and try to heal this man. I want you to do something for me.”
Ethan was hesitant to come closer. He swung the gate wide with fierce intention and stared at me, probing with eyes that told me the truth. He didn’t trust me anymore.