Wilde's Meadow (Darkness Falls #3) (36 page)

“
You
may be fine, but when did you last eat? When did you last sleep well?” He rubs his stomach, staring ahead. “I am starving, and I am not carrying a child.” Perth licks his thin lips, turning his gaze toward me. “But I can think of no way around your involvement in fighting my father, and I do not believe you would sit out even if I did find a way.”

Perth changes more and more every day, morphing into the man he yearns to be, into the man who will not sit by and watch people do wrong.

I smile. “You already have a plan?”

“We wait.”

My shoulders slump. Running in with swords drawn and fire covering us would be better than sitting around. “Why do your plans always involve waiting? You do realize we were nearly overrun by daemons the last time you told me to wait?”

He leans over, avoiding a branch too large to move from his way, and nudges my arm in the process.

“Will I ever live that down?” he asks, a little color returning to his cheeks.

“Come up with something better now and then I’ll think about forgiving you.”

Returning upright, he laughs, carefree and relaxing. “This time my plan will work. We will wait in the thick cover of trees at the highest point above The Meadows. When my father brings the children to the chestnut, and when the others gather around for the show, you should ride in as fast as you can and create a distraction—”

“And what will you do?”

“Kill my father.”

“Whoa.” I push in my stirrups and pull on the reins, stopping Mirain’s progress, and focus on Perth. “Did you just say you’re going to kill your father?”

He continues riding. “Is there any other way? He does not have a single vein of goodness in his soul. My father is not like you, Katriona, nor will he ever be.”

“But you are. You might be better than me,” I say, catching up to him. I reach out to Perth and offer him my hand. “You have always known me, and yet you kept my identity a secret. You helped me find everyone when they had been captured, and you sacrificed yourself for their safety. You gave up your pureness to protect Encardia, pretending to love me while we figured out how to form an army—”

“That part was not necessarily a lie at the time,” he says, taking my hand, not like Arland would hold mine, but as a friend would, a partner.

“Let me finish.” Warmth spreads around my fingers, traveling up my palm. We
are
friends, and I have a feeling we will be for a very long time.

“Sorry. Go on telling me how wonderful I am.”

“Don’t ruin it.” I laugh, tension evaporating like water from a boiling pot. “You were going to stand up against your father the night Arland and I were caught in the Binding spell.”

Perth nods.

“You walked with us out of Willow Falls, united. You led the way through the Crossing Caves, and nearly killed us all, to prove a point and to overcome your anger over your mother’s death. You took a leap of faith and entered Ollmhor with Rhoswen, someone you hated at the time, to gather allies for our fight … you should be the next High Leader, Perth. Not me or Arland. You deserve it more than anyone.”

He tenses. “I have no interest in becoming High Leader, Kate. You must know that is not my desire.”

“All the more reason for you to
be
High Leader.” I lean forward, holding onto Mirain and Perth a little tighter to keep my balance as we climb a hill. My stomach rumbles, giving strength to his words regarding my health.

“I will never win the elections you propose,” he says, squeezing my hand. “Once this curse is broken, the people will choose you and Arland.”

“We won’t run.”

“You will not have a choice. I am nominating you both, for all the same reasons as you nominating me … and a few more.”

“Maybe the three of us can be High Leaders together.”

“Four.” Perth lets go of me, then moves a small pine tree limb from his path.

“Rhoswen?”

“I was wrong about her.”

“I know you were. Wouldn’t be the first thing you were wrong about.”

“We are nearly there.” He stops at the base of another steep hill and looks up. “Once we arrive at the top, we can find the best vantage point, then rest.”

Starting forward, I ride Mirain up faster than I should. I have to get to the top and make sure Dufaigh’s executions aren’t already taking place, have to make sure Anna and Marcus are safe. I need to know that my family isn’t burning up in the square.

Perth clicks his cheek and races to me. “Stay quiet. I have no idea if my father will have guards around the town. We may have to fight some of our own,” he whispers. “Can you call to magic and put protections around us like you did on the way to Willow Falls?”

“I … ” My mother once told me everyone would use magic the way I do; maybe it’s time for other people to start doing that. I’ve taught them, but no one ever tries. “I can, but you can, too.”

Perth arches his eyebrow. “I have only ever tried once.”

“Exactly the problem. Love drives our powers, Perth. Every time the magic has come to me, it’s been because something I love was in danger. To take control of the power, I think of what I care about and let those happy feelings boil into anger. You love plenty. This should be easy for you.”

Imagining Arland’s warm hands, his solid strength for leading his people, his smile, his eyes, the taste of his lips, and his dewy, morning forest scent, I focus those memories and direct their energy over my heart. I think of Dufaigh and what he wants to do to the tree where I can reunite with Arland, and rage flows through me. “Cheilt an maireachtáil leis an dúlra.”

Sprites rise from the earth, glowing with a bright golden light, then swirl around us. They dart in between trees, circling faster and faster until their light blends and creates a thick, solid barrier of gold. The beings bring me peace of mind as they cast their protective circle. Perth and I have something his father does not: love, hope, power of the gods. We are on the right path and always have been. Our lives have been foretold by Seers, but in the end, it is us who choose to do what’s good and to follow the Light. No one can take away what we’ve done, what we’ve been through, and what we have lying ahead of us. I’ve never been alone in this, never been the only one to suffer. I may have given up more people I love, but any life lost is too much.

“Cheilt an maireachtáil leis an dúlra,” Perth says, tipping his head back and staring at the sky. “I love her,” he shouts—thank the gods we’re hidden. “I love her, and no one can take that away.”

“I know.”

He snorts. “I am trying to use magic.”

“Think about how she makes you feel, about her strengths, her weaknesses, think about
her
, then think about what stands in your way.”

“My father. He stands in the way of everything.” Perth closes his eyes and clenches his teeth, the muscles shifting in his jaw. Blue flames spread from his heart, descending his legs and arms and racing to his face. “With us hidden and my anger, we may not need to wait. We could ride into The Meadows right now and catch everyone off guard.”

He looks at me with the cold determination of a serial killer. Perth is too eager—much like I was once—to barge in and take control.

We have to wait.

“We’re sticking to your plan.”

The land flattens at the top of the hill, and Mirain stops. I slide from her back, then walk to the edge of the tree line.

“Careful.” Perth ties his horse to a nearby pine and then joins me. “There is a sharp drop off, but if you look hard enough, you can see lights.”

Squinting, I peer through the trees but don’t see anything. “Where?”

“You are not looking low enough.” He reaches out his finger, pointing at a spot down and out from us by a good thirty feet. “We are quite high.”

Focusing on where he indicates, I see three dim, orange lights dotting the landscape—and nothing else. “How far away are we?”

“Not as far as it appears. Those lights are near the soldiers’ quarters. The square is a bit to our West, but I would prefer to stay here for the night. We can rise early and move closer.”

“So we’re treating this situation as we would one involving daemons?”

“Yes,” he says, placing his palm under my elbow and guiding me away from the drop off. “Thank you for not agreeing to attack now. It would have been suicide.”

“You have to learn to control your anger, but don’t subdue it. Letting it out at the right times is key.”

We stop next to my horse. I grab the blanket from her saddle, spread it under a nearby tree, then sit.

“Too bad we don’t have anything to eat.” My stomach rumbles, squeezing and shaking with each pang. “You think there are any animals around here to catch?”

Perth takes a seat next to me, stretches his legs before him and crosses them at the ankles. “Flanna was great at making meals from nothing.”

“Flanna’s Surprise would be amazing right now. Arland said she made it using magic.” I sigh. “But I never asked her for the recipe.”

I don’t think I’d make a good housewife. I’m more apt for working with my hands, working with the animals in the fields, and apparently fighting off beasts. “Only a few more hours though, right? Then we can see what food stores they have in the town, and you can break a chicken neck or two.”

“Hmm?” Perth asks, voice barely audible.

“I said I can’t wait to eat a chicken you kill with your hands.” I smack my hand over my mouth; the chicken isn’t the only thing Perth will have to kill with his hands. I bet he’s thinking about his father. “How do you plan to kill him?”

He frowns. “Am I that obvious?”

“What you’re about to do is something I cannot even imagine doing. You must be torn up inside. I know you wanted to find goodness in him, for him to redeem himself.”

“I knew it was nothing more than a dream.” Falling silent, Perth leans back on his elbows and gazes at the sky, not that there’s anything for him to see.

Lying down and curling into a ball, I allow him his peace. I wrap my arms around my shins, taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart and jittery muscles. Each passing minute without food, water, and adequate rest, I become more and more restless. A hollow void gnaws at my stomach, rising up my chest and making every breath painful, every smell more nauseating. Throwing up seems inevitable, but I’m not sure there’s anything in me to come out.

I close my eyes, praying Anna and Marcus aren’t in as bad of shape as me, praying no one has laid a finger on them, and wondering what kind of distraction I can provide. What will draw all the attention from Perth so he can kill his father?

Griandor, please give Perth the strength to go through with this plan
.

He must be screaming on the inside. Perth is going to do more than anyone else has ever had to do to protect Encardia, to help me, and to be with Rhoswen, and I don’t know what to say to make him feel better. Go get ‘em? You’ll do great? No matter how much better off the world is without Leader Dufaigh, Perth will always have to live with the guilt of taking a life, taking a life that created his.

I’d do anything to meet my dad or to see Gary again, and here I am, asking my friend to kill his only remaining parent.

The blanket tugs away from me. Opening my eyes, I see Perth get to his feet and set to pacing while shifting his gaze from tree to tree.

“Asking for help is not something I am accustomed to,” he whispers. “But I need you tonight, Griandor.” Perth stops his heavy walking back and forth and stares toward the edge of the forest, toward The Meadows. “I must fulfill the promise I made to Arland, but I have no idea how to protect Katriona or how to kill my father … .”

I stick my fingers in my ears. I don’t want to overhear Perth’s prayer, and I definitely don’t want to spy. Counting backwards from one hundred, I slowly drift to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Wake up,” Perth says, pushing my shoulder.

My bones ache. My stomach burns. Everything hurts even worse today than it did yesterday, but there’s little time to dwell on how I feel. I have to get to the children and Arland. “Help me up?”

Perth grasps my hand and pulls me to my feet, making the world swirl.

I suck in the cold air, allowing it to soothe my rattled nerves, but there’s a strange scent. Something meaty, something warm, something … edible. “What’s that smell?”

A smile spreads across his face. “I was keeping watch while thinking, and a rabbit hopped right in front of me.” He laughs. “Killing it was difficult. There was no sport to the catch; the little creature allowed me to pick it up, but I knew you needed to eat, so I started a fire a little further back in the woods and cooked my catch.”

Something tells me that little rabbit didn’t just hop in front of Perth, hoping to be caught. I bet breakfast—or is it lunch or dinner—is compliments of the gods and goddesses. The further I am from Arland, the easier it must be to get to me, but why not just appear here and tell me what to do? Or better yet, why don’t the gods just send Brad back now?

Because, dearest Katriona, you know what needs to be done, and you have not brought light back to Encardia.
Griandor’s voice vibrates in my head, sending waves of peace through me with each ripple of sound.
When the sun shines over the eastern horizon, we will meet again.