Fade (Chaos) Page 10

  “He saw both worlds the way Brighid sees them,” I said hesitantly. “I’m not trying to offend you, Líle and Anya, but I really believe he did. She thought that one shouldn’t exist without the other, right? She thought the way the fae were living was wrong, so she turned her back. Well, Brendan started to feel the same way. He’ll never admit he agrees with Brighid, but when you hear him talk…” I shrugged. “It’s the way it comes across to me anyway.”

  “Perhaps she’s right,” Líle said. “The way of the Mother has always been the idea of fruitfulness and gentleness, and two worlds working together. The humans nurture us, so we should nurture them.”

  “But the strongest emotion comes from pain,” Sorcha said. “Why would she want us to be weak?”

  “I don’t feed on pain,” Líle said, “and I’m certainly not weak.”

  Sorcha stared at her feet. “I’m terrified of weakness. After all of my sisters’ years in the darkness because we were weak… I never want to go back to that again. I need power, and I don’t believe loving humans will do that.”

  “Aren’t you tired of hating everyone all of the time?” I couldn’t help asking. Realtín sniggered in my ear. “No, I’m serious. It takes way more effort to hate. You must be bloody exhausted.”

  The others laughed. Even Sorcha’s mouth curved upward slightly. Then the expression was gone, but it didn’t matter. I had made the banshee less hateful for a split second. It gave me hope that we could deal with each other like adults someday.

  “What kind of king will you be?” Dymphna asked Drake.

  He looked startled, but he gave a thoughtful answer. “Hopefully, a fair one.”

  “It takes more than that to become a king. And if the other king returns and makes a bid for your throne?”

  “He can have a throne.” Drake threw the last of his meal into the fire. “It just won’t be mine.”

  “You would start a war?” she persisted.

  He shook his head. “Not with Brendan. I have no fight with him. If anything, we’re better equipped to deal with each other than anyone else. He’s been in my head, remember. I know him, and he knows me. I understand the way he sees things. I think we could persuade each other to work, if not together, then alongside each other without wanting to end each other’s reigns.”

  “What about Sadler?” I asked. “Brendan wants peace with your grandfather.”

  He glared at me. “Don’t call him that. Those men are nothing to me.”

  “They’re obviously everything to you,” I snapped. “And that’s what will cause a war.”

  “You know nothing of this world,” he said in a cold voice. “It’s time we trekked through the marshlands. It will be a long day.”

  At his command, everyone gathered their things and prepared to leave. I caught Sorcha watching me. Maybe the conversation had cleared the air a little. I wished our group could be close enough to trust each other, but maybe that would come in time.

  As we approached the marshlands, the air changed, growing thicker and damper. The pull that nobody else appeared to feel strengthened.

  I coughed as I struggled to adjust to the different atmosphere. “This feels weird.”

  “You’ll get used to it,” Grim said. “The darkness and fog will take longer for you to acclimatise to.”

  “How big is this marsh?” I asked. I couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead of me.

  “Nobody knows,” he said. “Anyone who has tried to cover it all hasn’t come back.”

  “You were quiet earlier,” I said.

  “I learn more by listening,” he replied. “I’ve been learning a lot on this journey.”

  As we continued, the horses began to shy. Then, they finally pulled to a stop.

  “They’re scared because they can’t see,” Grim said. “We’ll have to lead them. It’s safer to pass through marshes on foot, I would think.”

  We all dismounted and gathered on solid ground, peering at the foggy marsh as we tried to figure out where we were going.

  “How do we keep together?” I asked. “I don’t want to get lost from the group in there.”

  “We’ll all hold on to each other,” Arlen said. “If someone falls, pull them back up immediately. We don’t know what’s under there.”

  I swallowed hard. Maybe I wanted to go home a little. The marshlands scared me more than I had expected. A marsh didn’t sound terrifying, but seeing the fog and feeling the chill in the air, I felt as if the marsh had moods and emotions, and it wasn’t happy to see us.

  “Take off your boots,” Drake said. “Everyone. Hang them on the horses. Grim, stay behind the group and lead Dubh. He trusts you, and the other horses trust him. Bekind, do you think you can lead us?”

  The cat moved ahead in answer. Líle followed Bekind. I gripped Líle’s hand, and Anya took my other. Sorcha was right behind her. The rest fell in line, all clinging to each other.

  The mud squelched with every step. I sank into the muck, frightened by how hard it was to lift my feet to walk. Eventually, the fog became so thick that I couldn’t see past Líle. I glanced over my shoulder. Past Sorcha was nothing but a wall of mist. Shadows loomed everywhere.

  “How do we know where we’re going?” Sorcha asked.

  “Look,” Líle said, pointing ahead and a little to the left. “Lights. Bekind, go that way. They look like markers.”

  Everyone’s mood lifted a little as Bekind followed the lights, but my insides felt tugged in another direction. The tingling beneath my feet dissipated the farther we went in the direction the lights seemed to be leading us. Maybe that was a good thing, but I wasn’t so sure.

  The ground underfoot was grey and murky, and pools of water filled our footprints. Dead, barren trees grew randomly. One looked as though it had been struck by lightning. Little reeds irregularly poked up from the deep water on either side of our muddy path. I listened carefully, but there were no sounds other than the ones we were making.

  Líle slipped, and when I tried to catch her, she dragged me down with her. Anya tried to pull me up, but she tumbled after us. The three of us sank under the muddy water, losing our grip on each other’s hands.

  I struggled to swim, but I didn’t know which way was up, and I had lost sight of both Anya and Líle. Reeds wrapped around my ankles and pulled me deeper. The reeds felt like clawing hands. I panicked, blind in the filthy water.

  Strong hands gripped me and yanked me up just when my lungs felt fit to burst. Dymphna hauled me back onto solid ground, leaving me shivering next to Anya. Next, Dymphna and Arlen pulled out the pale, lifeless body of Líle and laid her on the path.

  I pushed them out of the way and pressed down on her chest, but she wasn’t breathing. I turned her head to the side. Some water drained from her nose and mouth.

  “Cara,” somebody said. “She’s leaving.”

  “No,” I whispered.

  With shaking hands, I pinched her nose, pressed my lips to her mouth, and blew air into her. I stopped to do chest compressions like I’d seen on television, but she only lay still. I repeated the actions over and over until her body jerked. I leaned back and rolled her onto her side. Water and mud flew out of her mouth.

  “Cover her,” Arlen said.

  Grim handed him a blanket. Arlen wrapped it around Líle and stood her on her feet.

  “We have to get you moving,” he said. “The cold will end you more surely than anything else.”

  “Something grabbed me,” Anya whispered.

  “Me, too.” I stared at my hands. They refused to stop shaking. “It pulled me down. What’s in there?”

  “We don’t want to know,” Arlen said. “This time, I’ll lead. We need to move fast to keep you three warm, but we have to be more careful.”

  Líle looked ill, but she was willing to keep walking. “It’s death water,” she whispered to me. “I swallowed so much of it. I feel cursed now.”

  “Brighid wouldn’t let you be cursed,” I said to make her feel better.
<
br />   “The Mother abandoned us.”

  “She led you and Anya right to me when I needed you,” I said. “Maybe she’s watching over you now.”

  “Then let her help us out of this marsh,” Anya said with a sob.

  We followed the lights again. Then, I spotted the lightning-struck tree… again.

  “We’re going in circles,” I said. “We passed that tree already.”

  “Nonsense,” Sorcha said.

  “Maybe you’re mistaken,” Arlen said, continuing the trek.

  I shut up, but after a while, we came to the lightning tree again. I pointed it out, and we stopped so they could all look. Sorcha swore it wasn’t the same tree, so Arlen kept going.

  When we passed the lightning tree for the fourth time, Drake said, “We have to go back. We’re tired, the women are freezing, and we could all use a hot meal. We’re practically back where we started. Just lead us back out, Arlen.”

  But no matter what we did, we couldn’t reach firm ground again. There was some magic in the air preventing us from exiting, even through the way we had arrived. We were lost in the marshlands.

  Chapter Eleven

  “We have to get out of here!” Sorcha was the most worried I had ever seen her.

  Shivering in my damp clothes, I stared out at the marshlands. My skin felt clammy, and a wretched feeling of despair hung in the air. All I could think about was how wrong it had felt when we followed the lights.

  “It’s the lights,” I said. “They’re there to mislead us, I think.”

  Scorcha looked at me. “So… what? You want us to close our eyes? Wander around the marshlands in the dark?”

  “Realtín can give us light.” I shivered violently.

  Drake took the wet robe off me and wrapped his own cloak around my shoulders. “We still don’t know the way,” he said. “We need to be led.”

  “Bekind didn’t fall into the water,” I reminded him. “Líle did, but Bekind was on firm ground. She can keep us out of the water. There has to be a way across. Nobody would know about the rift in the Fade if there wasn’t. What if we’re supposed to ignore what we see and follow what we feel instead?”

  “I don’t feel anything but misery,” Drake said.

  “He’s right,” Grim added. “The despair is potent. Many souls must have suffered to create this trap.”

  “I’ll never feel anything other than miserable again,” Líle whispered.

  “I feel something,” I said quietly. They were right about the despair, but it was coming from somewhere, and maybe that was the key to finding our way out. I wriggled my toes in the mud. “Sometimes I feel pulled away from the lights… almost like something’s calling me away. And when I concentrate, I feel something beneath my feet. When we follow the lights, it gets weaker.”

  Drake studied me. “What do you feel?”

  “I don’t know what to call it, but we’re already lost, so why not try to follow it? What if… what if I closed my eyes and tried to make it through. Bekind could make sure I didn’t fall in. Realtín could light the way for everyone else.”

  “None of us know the way, lights or no!” Sorcha shouted.

  “Calm down,” Arlen said. “This isn’t helping.”

  Scorcha jabbed a finger at me. “She isn’t helping. She’s not even making sense! It’s the madness. She’s been with us too long.”

  I pressed my fingers to my temples. “There has to be a way out. There can’t be a marsh that nobody has ever crossed. That’s just stupid.”

  “How do you know?” Sorcha asked. “Maybe nobody has passed through.”

  “Then how did the lights get there? How do we know what lies beyond? About the rift and everything else?”

  “There’s some way through,” Grim said. “Some path. We just have to find it.”

  I nodded. “And Bekind can follow the solid path. That’s a start. I’ve been thinking.”

  Sorcha let out a derisive snort. “Are we supposed to be impressed?”

  I ignored her. “What if it works like the leylines?”

  I had been considering that for a while. When I side-stepped, the feeling strengthened. It was like the first festival again, that feeling of security, of being grounded. Something had drawn me to the festival; perhaps something could draw me past the marshes. The fae lived with the power. Maybe it wasn’t as noticeable to them as it was to me.

  “We’re not in the human realm,” Dymphna said. “The leylines exist differently, so the magic works differently. This is beyond, and the Darkside is something unto itself.”

  “Something has to make sense,” I said. “Chaos didn’t always rule, right? Maybe the marshes are there to stop people, but that doesn’t mean they exist to stop all people. And I’m not used to the fae realm like you all are. What if I can sense the difference? Grim said the despair we all feel comes from suffering. What if it’s there to confuse the fae? Maybe if we find the source, we’ll find our way out.” I shrugged. “Maybe we won’t, but it’s better than standing here arguing.”

  “She’s going to get us all killed,” Sorcha scoffed.

  “We’re already dead,” Drake said. “Why not fight for a way out until we drop?”

  Scorcha pursed her lips but didn’t say anything else.

  “Okay,” I said. “We can give it a try. I’ll close my eyes so the lights don’t distract me into circling again. Bekind will walk in front of me to make sure I stay on solid ground. Arlen can hold on to my waist to catch me if I do fall. Realtín can light Bekind and Arlen’s way. We’ll move slowly.”

  They all agreed to try, probably out of desperation. My plan sounded loopy even to me, but it felt right. The fae realm had different rules, and we had to think outside the box, particularly in Darkside.

  Drake appointed himself as my waist-holder. Realtín streamed her light outward, which wasn’t difficult, since she was already in a panic. Bekind circled my ankles. And I squeezed my eyes shut, closing myself off to the treacherous lights.

  I felt ill. If we couldn’t find our way out of the magic, then we would all perish on the marshes. I concentrated, trying to remember the feeling I’d had when Líle had made me find the garden by myself. I had earned that trip to Brighid’s gardens, and I was determined to earn a way out of the marshes.

  I took a couple of steps, trying to feel something. I stepped into deeper mud. Water splashed over my feet and ankles. But it was there! Something pulsed underfoot, something that had been there all along. Once I found it, the sensation was impossible to lose. I wasn’t sure how the others hadn’t noticed it, but maybe the panic blocked everything else out. Everyone else was too focused on what they could see, too overwhelmed by the hopelessness, too distrusting to give up their sight. But Bekind, Realtín, and Drake were acting as my eyes. I trusted them enough to give myself up to a different sense.

  I took more steps. The mud squelched. The wind blew hard. I could smell muskiness and smoke. I side-stepped, following an unseen path and never once stepping into the water. Drake’s hands remained firm on my waist, and I grew more confident.

  “We’re going in circles,” Sorcha said loudly.

  “Don’t listen to her,” Drake whispered. “Keep trying. You were right, I think. The lights are meant to mislead us, not guide us. You’re supposed to put your trust in something other than your eyes. That’s the trick. Don’t open your eyes. Just trust your instincts. They’ve always worked well. Brendan thought you had a strong survival instinct, a knack for figuring out how to adjust. Use it.”

  I shivered. He had put his faith in me, but there was a good chance I was full of shit. What did I know about the fae realm? I faltered and almost slid into some water, but he held me steady.

  “My mistake,” I said, truly feeling the difference under my feet.

  I walked for what seemed like ages. Dubh whinnied a couple of times, but everyone else stayed quiet. I moved faster, anxious in case something was behind us.

  “Is there something there?” I whispered.<
br />
  “Nothing at all,” Drake said. “Keep calm.”

  “I’m so cold. My clothes aren’t drying.”

  “It’s not true water,” he said. “This place was made of magic. Someone didn’t want people to pass through this way.”

  “You have to earn it,” I said, sniffling. “You have to earn everything.”

  His hands gripped tighter. “I can’t disagree with that, Cara.”

  We kept going. I heard muttering and complaints from the others as I waded through the mud. Didn’t they see they were making it so much worse for all of us? One negative comment multiplied the misery by ten. If they could just be optimistic for a while, it wouldn’t feel so bad. My heart sank with each step, but then I heard something that sent my nerves into overdrive.

  “I think I can hear music.”

  Drake’s fingers tightened again. “So can I. We must be close. You’re doing it, Cara. You’re on the right path. It looked wrong, but it’s working.”

  I laughed nervously. “It looked wrong, but you let me do it anyway?”

  “We had nothing to lose.”

  I heard the humour in his voice and relaxed. If such a serious fae was amused, then we were okay.

  I shivered more violently. “Are Anya and Líle okay?”

  “About the same as you,” he said. “The sooner we get the three of you warmed up, the better.” He paused. “I’m going to have to start separating you three. You get into the most trouble together.”

  I laughed. “I’d love to see you try.”

  “And Brendan thought you and Grim and Realtín were the terrible trio.”

  “He had more important things to worry about.”

  “And yet he worried about you, too.”

  My breath hitched. “It feels like there’s a question in there somewhere.”

  “Maybe there is. Maybe I don’t need to know the answer, though.”

  The sound of music had faded, but after about ten minutes, it became louder again.

  “The surface feels firmer now,” I said excitedly. “Less wet.”

  “I agree,” Drake said. “We would never have made it this far without you, Cara.”