I took a deep breath and nodded, seeing the logic behind Jakob’s suggestion. We had no way of getting to Faerie, and the immediate threat was the Huryl. Fynn was safely back in his world, recovering from the madcap adventure I had dragged him on that had nearly killed him. I should allow him time to himself, to regain his strength and to be at peace, if only for a little while. Swallowing the growing lump in my throat, I was suddenly aware how much I missed his comforting presence, even though he had only been gone a few minutes. Even before that, on the boat, just knowing that he was close had been enough to keep me at ease.
Clothis had already taken a few steps away in what I presumed was the direction of Oponoe. It struck me almost forcefully that I had selfishly been keeping her away from her home as well. I doubted that Clothis had wanted to leave Oponoe in the first place, when I had been kidnapped by the Huryl. I glanced at Jakob and wondered if he would ever be able to rejoin his mother and brothers on their farm, if he could mend the rift between himself and Roric. The only one who would be grateful to be with me was Will, his alternative being chained to a rock in the desert and left to die. Still, I was hesitant to say Will was glad as he inched closer to Clothis, staring at the surrounding trees with wide, fearful eyes.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s go to Damaeon.”
Clothis smiled and Jakob nodded. “The force we met in the desert was only a third of the Huryl army,” the former soldier said. “Another third was already on the battlefield, fighting the Dyrel.”
“That leaves a third unaccounted for,” I finished.
“Not to mention a missing king and disappearing commander,” Jakob added. “We need to hurry.”
Clothis led the way through the forest she knew like the back of her hand. We moved quickly, and I kept my head down against the angry hisses of the spirits. Wood and water, air and animal, all the spirits were accusing me of betrayal and abandonment. They knew I was the reason the Wood had burned, that I had not been able to control the fire spirits, and could not stop their destruction. The tree spirits had burned, the water spirits evaporated, the animal spirits crushed in their attempt to flee. I had caused their deaths, when I was supposed to protect them.
Tears fell down my cheeks as I clamped my hands over my ears in a vain attempt to silence the voices. The spirits within me flared up angrily in my defence, but I was too distraught to notice their support. The spirits who had brought me to this world, the ones who had believed that I would deliver the world to them, had turned against me.
“We’re not far,” Clothis was saying almost happily. I forced my attention onto her voice, my eyes on her moving back as she weaved her way expertly through the forest. “We should be able to see the city…”
Her voice trailed off as she pushed aside some vegetation and stopped dead in her tracks. Will made a low, mournful howl and sat on the ground by her feet, like a hunting dog next to its master. Jakob and I caught up to our friends, and my voice stuck in my throat as I stared out of the forest and down into the valley that housed Oponoe.
A thick pillar of smoke rose from the ruined walls of the city. Dead bodies lay where they had fallen, the land outside the city scarred by the effects of the battle. The tall, strong wooden gates that had valiantly protected the citizens lay splintered, the town ravaged by the subsequent invasion. Our group stumbled forward, none of us daring to speak. As we drew closer, we could see people milling slowly about, extinguishing fires and gathering the dead.
“Oh no,” Clothis’ voice was barely a whisper.
She took off toward the city at a run, the rest of us only a few strides behind her. We passed through the battlefield, ignoring the surprised looks of the living and the glazed, terrified looks of the dead. Clothis barely paused at the shattered gates as the tired guard saluted her, unable to mask his shock at her sudden appearance. We ran through the city streets, and I tried not to see the ghostly faces of the inhabitants; children sobbing over dead parents, houses burned to hollowed husks, blood pooling on the cobblestones. I could smell fire, blood, tears, and death, and I was nearly sick to my stomach as my senses reeled.
Clothis burst into the palace, the main hall of which had become a makeshift infirmary for the Dyrel soldiers. She grabbed the nearest servant and spun him around to face her. The servant nearly dropped the tray of medical supplies he was carrying, his eyes wide with alarm.
“What happened?” Clothis demanded loudly. “Where is the Prince?”
“Please, release my helper, Clothis,” a gentle voice said firmly. “And lower your voice.”
Clothis let the servant go, and he scampered quickly away. I smiled and turned towards the sound of the voice, recognizing the speaker.
“Gael!” I exclaimed.
The prince’s personal physician smiled, her blue eyes betraying her exhaustion. She wore a white bloodstained apron over her blue gown, and her silvery hair was tied back from her face with a few escaped strands tucked behind her ears.
“Lady Leila,” Gael said warmly. “I’m so happy to see you alive! When you vanished, we feared the worst.”
“What happened here?” Clothis repeated, struggling to keep her voice under control.
Gael sighed deeply. “Two days ago, the Huryl attacked. They came from the burning Wood, on the heels of our fleeing army.”
I felt a weight in my stomach like a stone. The fire, the one I had started, had cleared the way for the destruction of Oponoe. I suddenly felt light headed and sick. I leaned against Jakob to keep from falling over, and he put his arm around my shoulders.
“The Huryl broke through the gates after a day and a night,” Gael continued. “The Prince led his personal guard to meet the invaders, and eventually we drove them back.”
“I should have been here,” Clothis said, punching one hand with the other in frustration. “I should have led the guards.”
Gael’s smile grew sad and she reached out to gently touch Clothis’ arm. I closed my eyes against what I knew would be the worst news yet.
“Prince Damaeon led the resistance,” Gael repeated. “He fought bravely, but was struck down in battle.”
I risked opening my eyes after that statement in time to see the colour drain from Clothis’ face. I felt Jakob’s arm tighten around me, keeping me on my feet.
“He’s alive,” Gael continued. “For how much longer, I can’t say. Our prince is strong, and he may yet pull through.”
“May I see him?” Clothis asked weakly.
Gael nodded and the two women disappeared down the hall. I was not invited to join them, nor did I want to see the handsome Dyrel prince lying on his deathbed. I turned in Jakob’s arm and cried in his shoulder while he stroked my hair soothingly. I had burned the Wood, betrayed the spirits, and murdered Damaeon.
“It’s Lady Leila!”
Separating myself from Jakob, I turned around, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. One of the Dyrel soldiers was staring at me from his cot, and waving to get my attention. I forced a smile and knelt next to the young man, noticing that he was missing his legs. He propped himself up on his elbows and grinned, but his eyes were questioning.
“The
Promised Child,” he breathed, as if I were a famous celebrity. “Lady Leila,
where were you during the battle?”
“Yeah,” another wounded man
spoke up. “You’re supposed to protect the Dyrel. It’s in the prophecy.”
“I’m sorry,” I told them, and I sincerely meant it.
“The Prince was waiting for you. He kept hoping you’d show up,” another voice joined in.
“You’re supposed to have great powers to help us.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated.
“Half my battalion died in the assault. You should have saved them.”
“You should
have stopped the fire.”
“You should have stopped the
Huryl.”
“You should have protected us.”
I stumbled to my feet, surrounded by accusatory stares and shouts. I spun around, apologizing as the allegations flew around the room like a maelstrom. I couldn’t stand their angry shouts, their accurate charges. They were right, and we all knew it. I had promised to protect them, and instead I had brought their destruction. Overcome by the roar of their accusations, I fled deeper into the palace, as far as I could go from the men I had let down.
“Leila?” Jakob said softly.
I winced and tried to hide myself in the large chair I had pulled next to the hearth in the dining hall. It was the only room I could find that was empty, and when I had entered and thrown myself in the chair, it had been cold and dark. I had sat in uncomfortable silence, the only sounds were the echoing voices in my head of the spirits and the wounded Dyrel. I have no idea how long I was sitting there before a servant came and lit the fire, but I didn’t even see them. Even more time must have passed until Jakob stepped quietly into the room and called my name.
“This is where you’ve been hiding,” he said gently, pulling a chair to sit across from me.
I said nothing, staring at the fire. There were no spirits there to torment me, but I could feel the fire and sand spirits slumbering within me, lulled by the warmth of the hearth. Jakob sat with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. I wished he would leave, but at the same time I was grateful for his presence. The fire snapped and Jakob cleared his throat.
“What’s your world like, Leila?” he asked.
I was taken aback at the question. Memories of my previous life flowed back to me, tainted by my dismal mood. As I thought about the life I had left behind, I wondered why I had not felt the slightest twinge of homesickness.
“My world is very different from this one,” I replied.
“Are there wars?”
I nodded. “But we don’t fight like you do. Our wars kill many more people than soldiers, whole cities and countries get wiped out.”
“What about your home? Where do you live?”
I realized what Jakob was trying to do. I sighed and rested my head against the back of my chair, raising my eyes to the ceiling. If he thought making me think of my home would cheer me up, he was sadly mistaken.
“I live by myself in a small apartment.”
Glancing at Jakob’s confused expression, I saw I’d lost him already.
“It’s like an inn, where lots of people live. You get three rooms to yourself, and no tavern on the ground floor,” I tried to explain.
“You live by yourself in an inn?” Jakob repeated. “What about your parents?”
I smiled wryly. “They live in different cities. When my brother, Nathan, died, they grew apart and went their own ways, and I went mine. I don’t see them often. We fight a lot.”
“I see,” Jakob replied. “Do you miss them?”
“My parents? Not really. My brother? All the time. We were very close. Twins, actually.”
“How did he
die?”
I took a deep breath,
wondering how many questions Jakob would ask. I pictured the ghost of Nathan in
the desert fortress and lowered my eyes from the ceiling to my lap.
“He was struck by a car – a large, heavy, fast moving machine,” I said. “I was there. I saw him die and my parents blamed me. We fought a lot, but I let them down.”
The tears were escaping from my eyes again, and my throat was scratchy. I could see my brother’s face as he died – surprised, confused, in pain. It felt as if part of my soul had been torn from my body when Nathan left me. The man had stumbled drunkenly from his car and sworn violently over my brother’s body, then he ran off. I couldn’t even stop him. It took nearly a month for the police to track him down. I stood there like a statue as my brother’s murderer fled.
“I let everyone down,” I continued, unable to stop myself now. “I killed my brother. If I had been on time to meet him, he wouldn’t have had to cross the road at that time. I killed the spirits by letting their home burn down. I killed the Dyrel, Fynn, and even you, Jakob. Everyone hates me, and I don’t blame them at all. I’m a failure at everything I try.”
“Everyone doesn’t hate you,” Jakob insisted. “I love – we all love you.”
I shook my head, unwilling to believe him. He sighed and sat back in his chair.
“A lot is
being asked of you,” he said after several minutes of silence. “A stranger to
this world, with the burden to save three warring peoples. An impossible task
for an ordinary girl.”
I sniffed and nodded. Even
Jakob was beginning to realize the futility of my life.
“But you’ve faced down the two most powerful men of the Huryl, befriended the Woodwalker, gathered the spirits to you, faced countless dangers, and you’re still here, crying over those you let down. You’ve saved many lives, touched many more, and all this was done by a girl who knew nothing of this place. We heaped our problems on your shoulders, and you willingly bear that burden. You’re an amazingly strong person, Leila, and that’s why we continue to love you and believe in you.”
I stared at him in utter amazement, a warm glow spreading inside me and threatening the gloom that had wrapped its icy fingers around my soul. Blinking, I let his words sink in as I watched the sincerity twinkling in his eyes. I smiled.
“Thank you,” I told him.
“But you’re still not convinced,” Jakob frowned.
“I’m worried about Damaeon,” I said, “and Fynn.”
The Huryl soldier nodded thoughtfully. “You can visit the prince easily enough. As for Fynn, Clothis mentioned speaking to the Elven Queen. There are enough elves around for us to ask for directions.”
I was still hesitant. “I can’t leave Oponoe again. The city is ruined and I promised to protect them. I should stay here, help them rebuild. At least until Damaeon is well again.”
Jakob shrugged. “That’s up to you, Leila. You know I’ll follow wherever you lead, as long as it doesn’t lead over any more cliffs.”
I bit my lip in thought. “Do you really think Fynn is okay?”
“His Queen was pretty eager to get her hands on him again,” Jakob admitted. “I don’t know. The faerie are a tricky race, much more unearthly than the spirits or the elves, and very possessive. Now that she has Fynn back again, she might not let go. I admit I only know the legends of the faerie. I hadn’t met one until I saw Fynn in the forest with you.”
He leaned forward and patted me on the knee. “Will and I are hiding out in the kitchens until the prince recovers enough to grant us asylum. Come join us when you’re hungry.”
I thanked him and returned to my brooding as he left the room. Should I find a way to go to Faerie and see Fynn, or should I stay in Oponoe and wait for Damaeon to recover?