Chapter 27
Shock slammed into Viri so hard that she stumbled back a step. Then another. She caught herself just before tripping over a crack in the stone, but still didn’t take her eyes off the Guardian, not understanding what he was saying, yet knowing deep down that he was telling the truth.
She glanced at Reeve, at Braedan, and the looks on their faces—
They knew something. Something that their wide-eyed, pale expressions revealed they didn’t want her to know.
“What did I want to forget?” Viri choked out. “And why?”
“I can show you if you want,” the mage offered, sipping more of his tea, unaware of the roaring in her mind.
“That was included in your wish—that if you ever desired to have your memories restored, I would return them to you.” He smiled and leaned in as if sharing a secret.
“That was my idea. You were too distraught at the time to care, but I added it, just in case this day came.” He eased back again.
“Say the word, and you’ll remember what was forgotten. ”
“Of course I want to—”
“Viri, wait,” Reeve said quickly, panic threading his voice.
He closed the distance between them and took her clammy hands in his.
“Think about this. If you asked to forget something, then it must have been for a good reason. Maybe you should trust that and just—” His throat bobbed. “Just let this go.”
Viri stared into his eyes, seeing a turbulent storm in their silver depths, but if anything, that made her even more determined to find out what was going on.
He was hiding something, and he had been since they’d reunited—she was sure of it.
Whatever it was, it went beyond his claims about a Reaper Lord and a hidden city and Braedan’s supposed innocence regarding the Aurora sacrifice.
This secret, this thing he didn’t want her to learn, to remember, was something else entirely.
Yanking her hands from his, Viri looked at the Guardian and said, firmly, “I want my memories back.”
“No, Viri—” Braedan started, the first words he’d spoken directly to her, but she cut him off with an inhuman snarl.
“Don’t talk to me,” she spat. “Don’t even look at me.”
He recoiled as if she’d struck him, but then straightened his spine and opened his mouth to argue, halting only when Reeve placed a steadying hand on his cloaked shoulder and whispered something into his ear.
The fight left Braedan and he nodded stiffly—to Reeve or to Viri, she wasn’t sure—though his face was pinched with worry and his pale blue gaze dropped to the ground, as if he couldn’t bear to watch whatever happened next.
“It’s decided, then,” the Guardian said, gesturing for Viri to follow him over to the green-flamed fireplace. “This may be disorienting—I suggest you take a seat.”
Viri ignored the pleading look Reeve sent her, and ignored Braedan entirely as she sat on one of the lush velvet armchairs beside the Guardian.
“As I said, this will likely feel strange,” he warned again, his eyes glowing brighter in the light of the magical flames as he set aside his mug and took her hands in his.
“It won’t hurt physically, but the mind is a powerful thing, and it will do what it can to protect you—even from yourself. Try to relax. It’ll make this easier.”
That wouldn’t be possible, since Viri was as tense as the stone surrounding them, wondering what might have been so terrible that she’d deliberately chosen to forget it.
The Guardian had said she’d used her magewish seven years ago, but there was only one day back then that she would have wanted to forget, and yet, she vividly recalled every tragic moment of it.
So whatever this was about, it couldn’t have had anything to do with—
“Ready?” the Guardian asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Unable to help herself, Viri’s eyes flitted to Reeve for reassurance, despite knowing she wouldn’t receive it.
He’d moved since she’d taken her seat and was now leaning against the wall beside one of the windows, his arms crossed as he stared out into the darkened forest, his expression oddly resigned.
There was a smear of dried blood on his temple over where the wound had healed, his hair was a tousled inky mess, and his black clothes were as ragged as hers after their perilous journey, but even so, standing there bathed in moonlight, he’d never looked better, like a brooding hero straight out of one of Wynter’s romance novels.
Reaper. Monster. Killer.
The reminder of what he was rose up from deep inside Viri, prompting a fierce ache within her, a potent mix of anger, despair…
and grief. She tore her gaze away, telling herself she didn’t need his comfort.
Didn’t want his comfort. He’d been lying to her—or at the very least, hiding things from her and letting her believe the wrong things.
It was time for her to learn why, and she was certain those answers were trapped in whatever memory the magewish had stolen.
Tightening her grip on the Guardian, she confirmed, “Yes, I’m ready.”
The last thing she saw before the room blurred was Reeve’s chest rising and falling in a deep sigh, and Braedan slumping onto one of the spare armchairs to stare glumly at the fire—with Viri belatedly realizing she should have bound him with her fillium to keep him from escaping.
But it seemed he was as resigned as Reeve about whatever was happening here, and intended to wait it out with them.
Regardless, it was too late for her to secure him now, since ellixen slammed into her and her world turned upside down, leaving her no longer in the tower at all, but somewhere else entirely.
Somewhere painfully familiar.
Viri had been certain she remembered every horrible second of her Impartation ceremony, but there was no denying the formidable figure of the Southern Obelisk rising up before her, the obsidian stone tapering toward the cloudless blue sky.
The area surrounding it was sparse, nothing compared to the farms on one side in the distance, and the forested necropolis on the other side.
Instead, the obelisk sat innocently in the middle of a manicured grass circle bordered by a hedge of glowing angelroses.
It was peaceful. Inviting. Magical. Exactly what kids needed to see when they came to sacrifice their ellixen—exactly what Viri had needed to see as a ten-year-old girl.
Because there she was, skipping beside Braedan through the gap in the angelroses and coming to a wide-eyed halt as she stared up at the obelisk in awe.
It was strange for Viri to be watching her younger self, almost like she was viewing the scene as a spectator rather than experiencing it firsthand.
She wondered if that was an effect of the magewish, but she didn’t think on it for long, mostly because the breath left her when a much younger Reeve appeared through the angelrose hedge with Jorth and Amity Solace at his heels.
Viri’s parents.
Tears filled her eyes at the clarity of the memory, her mom and dad so close that she could almost reach out and touch them.
Her father had always been a handsome man, standing tall and proud, his hair a deep copper, his eyes the same as Braedan’s pale blue.
Amity, too, was strikingly beautiful, with rich auburn hair—like Viri’s, just without the silver streaks—and uncommon lavender eyes, which Viri had also inherited.
Both Jorth and Amity wore scarlet hunting cloaks over their black leathers, indicating they would be returning to work after the Impartation ceremony, but for now, they were wholly focused on their two children.
Viri thought she remembered everything about what happened next.
In the memories she recalled, Braedan stepped up to the obelisk to reluctantly yield his magic, and then she did the same right after him, during which time she lost consciousness for the briefest of moments before awakening to find her parents dead and her brother standing over them with blackened veins.
He and Reeve then took off before the Nox and hunters could arrive, leaving her alone and abandoned, her world having crumbled around her.
But the scene playing out before her now…
there was something different about it. Almost like a haze had been lifted, her mind shifting and rearranging as if it were unlocking a door she hadn’t even known existed.
Viri only had a split second to feel the brush of anxiety before her consciousness dissolved, her perspective changing until she was no longer looking upon the memory as a spectator, but inside it, returned to the thoughts and feelings of her ten-year-old self, the scene playing out as if it were a dream.
“It’s so tall!” Viri said, turning from the obelisk to beam at Braedan and Reeve. “Do you think anyone has ever tried to climb it? Do you think we can?”
“I’m up for it.” Reeve nudged her with his elbow before turning to his best friend. “What do you say, Brae? A friendly competition to see who can make it the farthest?”
Braedan grinned. “There’ll be nothing friendly about it when you’re both crying because I won and you lost.”
Viri stuck her tongue out at her brother. He might be the oldest, but she and Reeve always managed to keep up with him on their adventures, and he knew it.
“Big words,” Reeve said, his starry eyes twinkling in the way Viri loved. Then again, she loved his eyes when they were stormy, too. The only time she didn’t love them was when they were sad, but she hadn’t seen him sad in a long time. “Maybe it’ll be you who’s crying after Viri and I kick your—”
“There’ll be no kicking of anything, and certainly no climbing the obelisk,” Jorth interrupted in a stern voice, though he couldn’t hide the humor in his expression.
“Daaa-ad,” Viri whined, turning a pleading look on her father, then on her mother when it didn’t work. “You’re the ones who always tell us to challenge ourselves.”