71. Kat
Kat
I thought taking Bastian up on his offer with the boots would help me sleep.
I was wrong.
As much as I lost myself in the moment, afterwards I lay in the dark thinking about the fact Uncle Rufus was in this building on the other side of a thin, thin veil. He could even be in this same room on Dawn’s side of the palace.
What had become a sanctuary, he and Robin had now made unsafe. I hated them for it. Hated the world for their existence. And hated myself for allowing them to break all I’d built.
Come morning, Bastian pressed a familiar sphere into my hand. “I was meaning to give this back to you, permanently. Now seems like the right time.” He slid my thumb along the chain. “Remember.”
Gripping the orrery, I drew a shaky breath. “This is real.”
He nodded and left me in his bed with a kiss and the promise that he’d dig into how Rufus and Robin had managed to weasel their way here. “Get some sleep,” he ordered before leaving for work, ready to write a report on our trip for the queen.
For once, I didn’t obey.
I couldn’t. Not with the feel of Rufus’s fingers biting into my arm and the stuttering images of that night coming to mind.
When I thought I spotted Dia’s skeleton in a dark corner of the room, I dragged myself from bed.
Not even the rich red roses in my room could make me smile.
Without bathing, I dressed and headed out.
The guards went to fetch Rose to accompany me, but I told them I was going to visit Vespera.
Which I did. But then I went into the city.
It was still wintry, the air crisp, but snowdrops bloomed in gardens and the sky was clear.
The sun made me glad that I didn’t have to bundle myself up so fully.
I left off my gloves and kept my coat unbuttoned, enjoying the chill breathing through my shirt.
I picked up supplies on my way and stopped at Kaliban’s doorstep with a basket of food.
“Where have you been?” was his only greeting.
“Oh, you know how it is.” I shrugged as I entered. “Quests for the queen, getting captured by enemies. That sort of thing.”
He shut the door behind me and narrowed his eyes. “You’re not even joking.”
I started putting the food away—by now I knew where everything went. “Is there any point in trying to keep things from you when you can dip into my thoughts?”
“You know I don’t—”
“I know. But… my request today would’ve taken us in that direction, anyway.” I took a long while arranging potatoes in their basket. “Can you erase any memory? Even old ones?” I’d planned to get rid of the sight of all those people in pain because of my poison, but if he could dig further back…
Being unable to remember that night had been uncomfortable, especially as shards pushed through into my thoughts at odd times, like at Lara’s funeral.
But, really, remembering had been the worst part. Those shards and then the eventual crash of it all coming together as he’d held my throat in the corridor. That was what had almost destroyed me.
If Kaliban took that memory, wouldn’t it be better? No shards could poke into my consciousness—he’d make sure they were erased rather than buried.
And I wouldn’t have that uncertainty—I’d know there was something bad I’d chosen to rid myself of.
It might leave me less afraid of Uncle Rufus.
So I held my breath and waited for Kaliban to answer.
“Older memories are harder. They tend to be more thoroughly integrated in thought patterns and behaviours, with more echoes—times you’ve thought about the memory. Essentially, they’re part of who you are. But I can take a look.”
I bit my lip as a flood of unshed tears blurred my vision. A life without that memory. Without the constant fucking fear.
Wouldn’t I be stronger, then? I could face Uncle Rufus and tell him all the things I thought. I’d be free of his terrible lessons.
I’d be free to be myself.
“I have to warn you, though…” His hesitance filled the room, and I blinked away my tears. “I’d have to poke into your mind more thoroughly. I might see things you don’t want me to.”
I put away the bread and straightened. “Even if I really focus on it?”
“Hmm.” He tilted his head side to side. “With the strength of your thoughts, perhaps.”
Bastian had warned me about trusting people here, but Kaliban had become a friend. Any time he’d erased my memories of Elthea’s treatments, he could’ve taken advantage and pushed further into my mind. Yet he hadn’t.
He eyed the empty basket. “You brought a lot of food today. It’s a heavy memory, isn’t it?”
The way his expression softened as he turned his attention to me threatened to bring back the tears. I bit my lip and nodded.
“The choice is yours.” He gestured to the chairs at the kitchen table where he did his work.
A life free of fear. Or at least, the fear of that night and my uncle.
I sat and eased the slightly tight ring off my finger, breathing a sigh as the sickly discomfort faded. My relief was short lived though, as I forced my thoughts to Dia and Fant?me’s open grave and the night sky above.
As Kaliban stepped behind me, my heart sped, getting louder and louder.
Soil spilling on me. The cold dampness seeping through my nightgown. The desperate need to keep still.
My breaths gasped in and in and in, but I caught myself, and, gripping the table’s edge, I counted in for five and out for six, like Bastian had shown me.
In. Slowly. You’re not there. You’re just thinking about it.
Out. Fully. You’ll be rid of it soon. You’ll be free soon.
“Good gods.” Eyes round, Kaliban flopped into the seat by mine. “What the hells happened? Who’s been in there?”
“My uncle, he—”
“I don’t mean the memory…” Eyelids fluttering, he shook his head. “That’s horrible, yes, but… I mean who’s been fucking around in there?” He tapped his temple.
The tattooed fae. I seized the thought before it grew too loud and broke the bargain we’d made. “Our captor would only let us leave if they erased our memory of the location.”
He grunted and rubbed his face as if weary. “Holes everywhere. And something with a trigger. A butcher would’ve left less mess. I can’t do anything.”
The memory with Uncle Rufus was too ingrained, and made worse by my deal with Sura.
Shit. “Fine,” I sighed. “Thank you for trying. I… I hurt—killed some people with my poison.” I examined my fingers and the stain spreading over them now there was no iron blocking my magic.
“Can you take away that memory instead?”
“Katherine.” He leant forward, forcing eye contact. “I don’t think you understand—I can’t take anything. Not anymore.”
A chill crept over me like the soil from that night. “What do you mean?”
“Whatever they did, it was brutal. A botch job. They’ve left so many holes—if I alter a single thing, your mind could collapse.”
“You’re speaking like my mind is a structure. But this isn’t a broken bone in danger of crumbling apart. These are only my thoughts.”
“Considering how strong your thoughts are, I didn’t expect to hear you calling them ‘only’ anything.
” His brow tightened, and a knot tied in my stomach at his disapproval.
“Your mind is a structure. Just because it isn’t a physical one doesn’t make it any less real.
Your mind can be injured or sick, the same as your body.
You’ve been getting headaches since this was done, haven’t you? ”
Bile licked the back of my throat. I swallowed it down and nodded in silence.
“Your mind is who you are. If it collapses, you will lose yourself. Your fear and courage. Your humour and kindness. Your loyalty and determination. Everything you love, and everything you hate. They are ‘only’ thoughts, and yet…”
And yet those things were me.
Even the fear.
Especially the fear.
Wasn’t that the thing that had made me all the more determined to keep Ella safe from unCavendish? Wasn’t that what had driven me to ride at night as the Wicked Lady? And weren’t those the nights I’d felt most free?
I rubbed my chest. Maybe I did know Katherine Ferrers far better than I thought.
“I understand.”
In truth, I’d never understood anything about myself so well until that moment.