Wilde's Meadow (Darkness Falls #3) (15 page)

“
You are sure
?”

Nodding, I pull out my last resort, then open the sandwich bag.

“Rhoswen,” Arland says, voice firm, commanding, and very close by.

My heart flutters.

She looks up to him. “Yes?”

“Take my post.”

“What is this about?” Rhoswen stands. “Do you think I am correct?”

Arland and I lock eyes.

“I think you made a good point,” I say, struggling for air. God I’ve missed him.

Smiling like she’s just been announced beauty queen, she trots toward the perimeter to take Arland’s spot.

“Your mother was quite specific about this, Kate.” He takes a seat next to me, his leg touching mine. Arland’s warmth travels through my suede pants, making me think more about lying next to him rather than what to do next. I don’t care how wrong that is, either.

“
Kate, focus
,” Brit thinks. “
I’d like to see where this is going without your dirty thoughts.
”

I turn around and stick out my tongue. Real mature, but she’s no better. “Get out of my head, then you won’t hear my thoughts.”

Arland places his hand on my knee. “For what it is worth, I do not believe we can go on like this much longer.”

Breath catching in my chest, I remove the tin from the plastic bag. My hands shake as I slide off the lid. A black key with “Jeep” written across it lies inside. I pull out the small reminder of home and stare at it. I haven’t driven a car in ages. I miss riding with the top down, traveling along winding country roads with the sun beaming on my head. Honeysuckle and manure, music and laughter—I long for the smells, the sounds, the freedom. I wouldn’t give up Arland for anything, but what I wouldn’t do to live with him in peace.

“What is it?”

Clutching the metal in my palm, I meet his eyes. “A message that we need to go home.”

He cringes and points at the tin in my left hand. “Are you going to read the note?”

Realizing I insulted Encardia and potentially offended Arland, I glance down. Yellowed parchment paper is taped to the bottom. “Hold this.”

Arland takes the key, then places it in his armor pocket.

Removing the paper, I unfold it and find a note written in my mom’s handwriting. “It’s from Mom.”

Always the snoop, Brit scoots closer to me and leans in to get a better look. “Tell me she’s got answers. I’m sick of being out here.”

I clear my throat, trying to remain calm. I’ve never wanted an escape more than I have today. “Kate, I pray you have waited for the right time to open this. If not, I pray everything still goes according to plan. You probably noticed the key to your Jeep. You need to return home and bring people back who are willing to fight. Unity is important. Dughbal threatens all life; no matter the cost, all life should stand against him. But I know as well as you do, if you go to Virginia and tell people you need help fighting a war against a god, you will be committed. Only ask those you trust. The list is not long. I know you may not understand why you need this help, but I believe upon your arrival, you will understand why
they
need you.”

“That’s odd.” Brit shakes her head. “Sorry. Go on.”

How did my sister miss the implications in Mom’s letter? No matter the cost, the farm, all life standing against Dughbal. She wants me to bring Gary here? To fight in a war he couldn’t possibly understand? To
die
?

“Kate?” Brit asks, placing her hand over mine.

I take a deep breath. “When your father and I left Encardia to bring you to safety, we had to open a portal into the world you grew up in. It took months of research and help to find a way to do this, but thankfully for you, I wrote it all down. Wherever you are in this war, I am almost positive you are not near the portal which brought you here. So, you need to bring the portal to you. And you need to bring the others to the soldiers traveling with you. There are three pages of notes behind this one. Read the first now, save the second for when you reach the farm, and the third you should not read until you are ready to leave. Do not look at the words on the other pages until you are ready. These are dangerous spells, and you must read them with caution … and only at the appropriate times. Be fast, and be safe. I love you and your sister very much. Take care of her. Take care of you.”

I stare at the page, afraid to turn to the next. Mom’s instructions always come with warnings, but they also always come from a place of deep knowledge. With as much as she knows, I’m surprised she ever worries at all. The fact she does makes
me
worry.

“What are you waiting for?” Brit asks, reaching out for the paper.

Snatching away the pages, I glare at her. “You heard Mom’s warning, Brit. Don’t be stupid.” I turn to Arland. “Should we go now?”

The fire crackles, sending tiny orange sparks into the air. Warm light dances along Arland’s chiseled features. He glances around the campsite. I’m aware of his thought process—even without listening in. Arland is calculating the risk. If
we
leave Encardia, someone else will be in charge of the other groups. We have strength in numbers, but with seven worlds to go into, our numbers will be small. There are only twenty-nine of us here, and I doubt there’s time to bring the other soldiers to our location. Reinforcements would be stuck in battle forever, or killed along the way.

He returns his gaze to me and rubs his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “We need to pair everyone based on the world we plan to send them to. The Cinn Mórans and Cinn Bheagans are unforgiving and ruthless—”

Brit snorts. “Cinn what?”

Flanna slides next to my sister, concern all over her features. “Cinn Mórans are very large creatures, very powerful, and Cinn Bheagans are just their opposite; they are small but stealthy.”

“Like giants and dwarves?”

Flanna and Arland share a confused look, then Flanna shrugs.

“Cinn Mórans are huge, Brit. Angry creatures, and nothing like us. History proved them to be self-serving, conniving beasts. Our people had a rocky relationship with them. If we waltz back into their world, chances are they will kill us.” Arland narrows his eyes, falling deeper into thought.

“And the Cinn Bheagans?” I ask.

“They are no better. Much worse, actually. Our worlds warred twice. Both times, we won. If the Bheagans remember us, they may hold a grudge.”

“Let me guess, they like shiny things and use dark magic to steal our gold?” Brit asks, rolling her eyes.

Arland’s mind whirls with anger. Brit acts like stepping into seven worlds that have been closed for over a century is going to be nothing, or rather something out of one of the movies she loved to watch so much—when we were still in Virginia.

I reach out and touch his hand, trying to calm him, to bring him back to me. He’s so worried for our people, and my sister can be so thoughtless at times.

Arland turns up his palm and laces his fingers with mine. The simple touch, something we used to take for granted, means so much to me now. My heart surges with happiness.

“You and I should go to your home. Flanna and Vanora will do well in Draodín; Bheagans are partial to redheads. I will send Dunn and Aidann with them as well, but the men should be wary there. Perth,” Arland calls over his shoulder.

Leaving the perimeter, Perth walks toward us.

“I did not tell you to move,” Arland says.

Perth stops in his tracks, then backs up. “You called my name. I believed you needed me for something?”

The tension between the two of them runs deep. As much as they attempt to get along, they still occasionally battle for power. Common theme in all the worlds. Power and who has it always starts wars.

“Would you prefer to go into the land of wind or water?”

Perth’s Adams apple bobs. “I would prefer Ollmhór.”

“I am sending Cadman to speak with the Cinn Mórans, Perth. But at least I know you paid attention during some history lessons.”

“I choose water, then.”

Arland nods. “Good. When Kate opens the portal to Mhara, you and Rhoswen will go together. You are well-equipped for the darkness there.”

“I am
not
going with him,” Rhoswen yells from Arland’s post.

“You are not being offered a choice.” Grazing his thumb over my knuckles, Arland takes a deep breath. “Brit, I would like you and Tristan to go to the land of wind.”

“Wind?” Her tone of voice is much less mocking and more serious. Maybe Perth’s fear made her realize this isn’t a joke.

“The beings there are invisible, but all of them are telepathic. You have an ability to communicate with Kate, so I believe you may be able to communicate with them as well. Tristan is learning to speak with his mind. The two of you should work well together.” Arland looks around; there are still so many people to account for … and other worlds.

“Elysia is gone, and we have plenty of people here. We have Earth, Ollmhór, Draodín, Gaoth, and Mhara covered. That leaves Daigre—”

I shake my head, remembering my conversation with Griandor. My skin crawls. Will I ever get rid of the feeling of Dughbal’s tongue against my cheek? “We can’t go there. The daemons are from Daigre. If Dughbal was able to corrupt them, I doubt we will be able to bring them to our side.”

“Your mother said all should be united, Kate.”

“And Griandor said that world is nothing but corpses of old, evil beings. My mom said all
life
should stand against him. By definition, anything in Daigre is dead.”

“I pray your assumption is correct.” Arland takes a deep breath and stands. “I will gather the others while you read your mother’s instructions. My guess is this will take you some time.”

“Sir,” Cadman shouts, low but urgent. “We have run out of
time
.”

Chapter Eleven

“Read your mother’s letter fast, Kate.”

Arland runs to the sleeping soldiers, screaming “wake up” then nudging them with his boot. Everyone jumps to their feet, then gathers their things. They don’t even know where they’re going.
I’m
not even sure where they’re going.

“Kate,” Arland shouts. “The letter.”

He points at me, narrowing his eyes.

“Got it.”

Daemons surround us. Hundreds of them. Thousands even.

Why now? How would they know we were on the edge of something so big? Or is the timing just coincidence?

“Are you in shock or something?” Brit snatches the letters from my hands. “I’ll read them.”

I grab her arm. “They are meant for me to read.”

She shakes her head and passes me the papers.

Clearing my throat, I stare at the pages in my trembling hands. “In time faster than the movement of light, bring to us what we need this night. Five portals to lands we knew so well, but avoid the place where evil spirits dwell—”

“Sounds like you were right about Daigre.”

I glare at Brit. She’s not trying to annoy me, but her timing is awful.

“I’ll shut up. Go on.”

“Mórans, Bheagans, Wind, and Water. Friends, enemies, foes, and those who like to slaughter.”

“
Slaughter
?” My sister never learns.

I’m reading a spell. For the love of God, she should just be quiet. “Can you keep your mouth—?”

“Is she finished?” Arland asks, rushing up to us.

Brit puts her finger to her lips, as if to quiet
him
. “No, but she just mentioned something about slaughter.”

Everyone gathers behind Arland, staring at me, eyes wide, panic lining their features. I return my attention to the pages.

“Protect those who enter with your strength and might, but shroud the portals from the daemons’ sight.” I squint, trying to figure out how to pronounce the last words. “Íocaimid seo lenár saol.”

A gust of wind blows through the campsite, stealing sparks from the fire and lifting them into the night sky. My hair whips my face. The papers rustle like a kite on a beach, ready to zip into the air. I fold my mom’s letters, then secure them back inside the tin. The earth rumbles beneath us. Soldiers chant the concealment spell, hiding us from the daemons that already know we’re here.

“Where are the portals?” Brit asks, shouting above the hurricane of sounds.

Lightning cracks somewhere in the forest, filling my vision with a blinding, purple light.

She grabs onto my hand, palms sweating. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t take this seriously.”

I squeeze her fingers. “I love you, too.”

The daemons draw closer, and I release my flames, preparing to fight, to protect my people.

The wind blows harder, pushing against me with such force, standing in one place is near impossible. Lightning crashes down around us, and the hairs on my arms rise, attracted to the static energy.

Arland turns and lowers his head, then walks around all the soldiers, yelling words I cannot hear above the storm, ushering people closer together, closer to me.

Crack
. A bolt of light strikes the ground in front of us, blowing up dirt and leaves, and we jump back a few feet.

A black, rippling portal appears ten feet away, on the other side of the fire.