Chapter 4
I t’s as if I’ve been plunged back into the icy waters of the portal, except this time they’re swallowing me up, blocking my airways.
“Because that’s your name.” My voice sounds unnaturally even from trying to hold back the panic.
“Is this a joke?” Destan says, though he doesn’t sound amused in the slightest.
Ruskin’s brow furrows. “It seems not. You claim to know me, but I don’t know you.”
Destan turns to me, his eyes showing the same alarm that’s flooding through me too. “It’s Interra—it has to be. It messed with his head. That, or Evanthe did something to him.”
Ruskin snarls. “My head is perfectly fine, and I’d watch what insults you throw around, sir, before you regret it.”
“He’s not insulting you, Ruskin,” I say gently, taking another small step towards him. “He’s your best friend, and it worries us that you don’t seem to remember that fact.”
Ruskin examines me and I’m hit with the urge to shiver. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt such scrutiny under his stare. My body responds to it even in the middle of my worry. I can feel the heat of his eyes as they sweep across my body.
“You’re human, and so can lie, and yet…” He walks a circle around me, and I think I see a flicker of something hungry and feral within his gaze. He’s sizing me up in more ways than one. “I feel I can trust you.” He shakes his head, like trying to throw off an annoying fly. “Which doesn’t make sense, because?—”
I reach down the bond, sending a flood of emotion across it. The golden bridge that connects us shines bright with the force of my love and my trust for him. He stops walking, eyebrows rising like he’s just been hit in the face and doesn’t know what to do about it. Then his gaze darkens, and I feel him responding across the connection, sending a wave of desire that feels powerful and primal. He wants to be close to me, I can feel it, but he doesn’t seem to know why.
“What is that?” he asks, even as I flush at the signals he’s sending through the connection.
“It’s a naminai bond, my love.” I watch his face and see a sign of recognition. He knows the phrase. “You can tell it’s real, can’t you? You feel you can trust me because we’re soulmates, you and me , Eleanor. I’m telling you the truth.”
His eyes refocus and he looks at me in a new way, with a mixture of awe and wariness. That caution is still there. He believes what I’m telling him, but he’s afraid of it, I think. Frightened by the power of that yearning which is still washing over me through the bond.
“What is going on here?” It’s a blunt demand, and he looks at us both imperiously, like it’s absurd we haven’t yet provided him with the answers he wants.
“He doesn’t know anything,” Destan says despairingly. “He’s completely lost it.”
“I told you to watch your mouth,” Ruskin says coldly. “And I know many things. I know that this is an Unseelie gate to Styrland, for example, and that we’ve just come from Interra.” He examines his hands, thinking. “I know that I am more powerful than both of you, even having just fought off that beast,” he says, sounding matter-of-fact rather than boastful. He drops his hands. “And I know that even though I don’t know you, sir, you are a subject of mine, isn’t that correct? I am your king.”
“But how do you know those things, Ruskin?” Destan presses. “How can you be sure if you don’t remember us ?”
Ruskin looks out to the horizon, a shadow falling across his face as he searches for something he can’t seem to find.
“That…I cannot tell,” he admits. “When I reach back, there aren’t specific memories. Nothing to recollect about my past, my personal experiences—just a collection of knowledge and the feeling of my magic.” He points at Destan. “The magic that tells me he’s from my court.” Then he looks at me. “And the magic that tells me you are mine, and that we are indeed true name matches, even if I don’t know how that is possible with a human.”
I blush at the possessiveness of his language. Maybe it’s a strange reaction, but when he’s looking at me with that fiery intensity, I can feel all the intimacy of our bond pulling me towards him. And yet some of his words are so impersonal and distant. It’s confusing, but not as confusing for me as I imagine it is for him.
I move towards him once more, relieved he doesn’t draw away when I take hold of his hand. To my surprise, his strong fingers respond, wrapping around mine and squeezing. Stars, I want to hold him, to wrap my arms around him and breathe him in deep. Part of me thinks that maybe if I kiss him again, let my lips explore his, marking out his jaw and neck like I’ve done a hundred times before, he’ll remember. But it’s never that easy for us, is it? When I look down, I see him eyeing our entwined hands with disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d joined his fingers with mine.
“All right. Then let’s start from the beginning. What’s the last thing you remember? I mean, in detail.”
He rolls his eyes and gently releases my hand to run his fingers through his hair. That wave of want is still beating through the bond in a way that makes my skin tingle. I can tell he’s fighting between the pull of that connection, urging him to be close to me, and his own natural wariness. He wants to put up the spiky, hard shell that he presents to the rest of the world. It’s too painful to think I might be included in that group now—“the rest of the world.” A nobody to him in mind, if not in body.
“I was in Interra with a woman,” he says.
Destan and I exchange a look.
“We came through the portal—it wasn’t planned. I just know we were fighting and I was trying to put distance between her and something…something important. But the spells went wrong. Our magic combined in a way that created a rift between the realms. We fell into Interra, and that beast attacked me. She left me for dead—I think she found a way out on her own.”
“And you don’t remember why you were fighting her?” Destan asks tentatively.
Ruskin’s Unseelie eyes flicker into view. “Obviously not,” he says imperiously.
“Ruskin, that woman was your mother, Evanthe.”
There’s a flash in his yellow-green eyes, but his expression doesn’t change. A few days ago he would’ve been honest with me—would’ve shown me the full extent of what this revelation meant to him, but now he’s closed that side of him off.
I feel a crack splinter its way through my heart as the enormity of this new obstacle hits me. Everything between us—every touch, every fight and confession—wiped away in an instant. It’s like a death. The loss of everything I was to Ruskin and everything he knew that he was to me. My feelings haven’t gone anywhere…but they feel oddly adrift without an answering anchor in him. I don’t understand how everything we’ve built can be gone so easily when we fought so hard for it—when we’d only just found the trust we needed in each other and accepted the bond. He might still physically be able to feel that link to me, but all the context for it is gone, stripping it of its meaning.
“She wants me dead then, my mother,” he says neutrally.
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
He shrugs dismissively. “She means as little to me as the pair of you. I assume it’s some kind of power struggle? Being a king invites enemies, after all.”
I gape at him, the heart that had been breaking before hardening at the callousness of his words.
I glare at him. “Yes, it was, as it happens. And however little we mean to you, we’re all you’ve got right now to keep you from winding up in the hands of your enemies again.”
Still holding my gaze, he throws a hand out, and an oak punctures through the earth, sprouting so suddenly it showers us with leaves.
“I think I can handle myself,” he says. “Certainly more than a human and an overdressed Seelie fop can.”
“Hey! It’s better than what you’re wearing,” Destan mutters darkly, adjusting his pretty embroidered coat.
“Looks can be deceiving,” I say, not backing down from Ruskin’s hard stare. “I would’ve thought you of all people would know that. But I guess you can’t remember.”
I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice and turn away, heading towards the horse still tethered several yards from the gate.
“We should get going,” I say, trying to hold the broken pieces of my heart together.
“And where exactly do you propose we go?” Ruskin asks haughtily.
“You might not miss knowing us, but I bet you miss having some idea of what’s going on. There’s someone who I think can help you. An old tutor of yours. We’ll go see him.”
“No.”
I spin round to read his face. I thought mentioning a cure might motivate him to cooperate. Surely, he doesn’t want to be at a disadvantage, with everyone knowing what’s going on except for him.
“Why not?”
“No one should know about this. My current…vulnerability.”
I put a hand on my hip. “Oh, so you do admit it’s a problem, then?” Aside from the small inconvenience of forgetting everyone you know and love, I don’t add.
“If my enemies are as close as you claim, yes. It’s better we keep this obstacle hidden until we can rectify it ourselves.”
“Maidar is our friend,” I say firmly. “He wouldn’t betray us.”
“That’s what you say.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “You’ve already said you trust me , so you’ll just have to take my word for it.”
I’ve cornered him in a logical trap and he knows it. Grimacing, he turns his back on us, looking to the horizon. His claws are out, and he taps them against his thigh, the movement frustrated and threatening at the same time. This is not the Ruskin I knew, who fought hard to be able to let his guard down around his friends. Instead, this is him at his most wary—not wanting to give way even an inch in case it costs him. But he knows we’re his best bet at the moment—a lifeline in a sea of uncertainty.
He turns back to us, looking no less annoyed, but at least he offers us a curt nod.
“Very well. We shall seek a cure with this friend of yours. Where are we headed?”
“The Unseelie Court,” I say.
“Absolutely not.”
“Come on!” I say, throwing my hands up. Is this how everything is going to be? A battle?
“I’ll just take a seat until you two are done,” Destan says, finding the nearest tree stump to perch on.
“The two of us?” I splutter at my friend, gesturing to Ruskin. “ He’s the one being impossible.”
“I may not remember every detail of this world,” Ruskin says, cool as ice, “but I certainly recall that the two fae courts aren’t friendly. I thought we agreed we were trying to avoid enemies?”
Destan clears his throat.
“Ruskin. My Lord,” he corrects himself in response to Ruskin’s glare. “I have been your loyal follower since we were children. That should be enough to tell you I have your best interests at heart. Right now, the worst and most dangerous of your enemies are in your own court. And even among those who don’t actively hate you, you aren’t likely to find many friends. It seems your mother has most of them convinced she’s just looking to keep her position as queen safe, when really, it’s you who’s still the High Monarch—which is another whole conversation, by the way. As long as the High Fae think the only consequence of taking her side is being ruled by her instead of you, I can’t see many of them sticking their neck out for you by moving against her.”
Ruskin processes all this without a flicker of emotion and just as I’m preparing for another argument, he nods.
“Then we will travel to the Unseelie Court and hope to find allies there.”
“Yes,” I say, feeling relieved he’s given in more easily than I expected. “Your uncle, Lisinder, is the king there, and he has been fair to us in the past.”
“Wonderful. At least I have some family not intent on killing me,” Ruskin says.
I decide now is not the time to get into the tricky circumstances under which we last left the Unseelie Kingdom.
One mess at a time.
Which brings us to our shortage of horses.
“The Calasian can’t carry us three to the Unseelie Court. Not all that way,” Destan points out.
“This is simple. We will cross back over to Seelie and find the nearest Low Fae who can lend us their animals for the journey,” Ruskin says.
“And risk them reporting our whereabouts to Evanthe’s followers?” says Destan, shaking his head. “That’s too risky.”
I sigh. “I think you’re both forgetting some place we can definitely purchase horses without risk of news getting back to our enemies.”
They look at me, nonplussed, and I point to the Unseelie Gate.
“Styrland?” I say, astounded they’d be so quick to overlook an entire realm. “I don’t where this gate comes out, but you can portal to the nearest farm or stables from there.”
Ruskin insists on going alone and I’m too tired to argue at this point, even if my throat feels tight at the sight of him slipping out of my sight once more, through the gate. He’s gone the better part of an hour, long enough for me and Destan to grow restless out there in the open. Eventually, we take our horse and retreat to a copse where we can watch the gate without being so exposed. Then we settle down to wait.
“Are you all right?” Destan asks after a few minutes of silence.
I pick at a wet leaf on my skirt, wondering how to answer without getting teary. Now is not the time to open the floodgates.
“Not really,” I say eventually.
“Me either.”
I look up at him and see a face twisted with worry.
“We saved him, but it’s like we didn’t, in a way.”
I nod, relieved to hear someone else voice the dark thought.
“But he’s still him, isn’t he? I mean, you’ve known him longer than I have. You’d know if there was something more wrong than just some missing memories, wouldn’t you?”
He bites his lip. “I think so. But we are our memories. This Ruskin…he reminds me of some version of him from way back, before we were really friends, back when it must’ve seemed to him like the whole court was against his existence. He was so young and so guarded then. Almost impossible to get to know.”
I think about what it will be like if Maidar can’t help us. The thought has been too difficult to examine up until now, but I need to at least consider it. What will happen if Ruskin never gets his memories back? If we have to start over from scratch, with me a stranger to him?
“But you managed it, didn’t you? You became his friend and earned his trust?” I say, trying to find the hope in that idea.
“I did. But it took a long time.” He shrugs, offering me a weak smile. “I’ll just have to do it again. It’ll be easier for you; you’ve already got the bond to help you. That, and I can tell he’s already fascinated by you.”
I grimace. “I don’t think we’re talking about the same person.”
Destan pulls a face. “As if you didn’t notice the way he was looking at you like he wanted to eat you up.”
I feel my cheeks grow pink. “Yes,” I say, looking down at my hands. “I could feel that through the bond, the physical attraction. But does that really mean anything? It’s just lust, isn’t it?”
Destan shakes his head. “Not when it’s that strong. Not when it comes to Ruskin. I know when he’s hiding feelings for someone, because it’s so rare. I saw it in the first week he brought you to Faerie. Why do you think I encouraged the two of you so much? I thought you’d make a nice break from all the pressure he’d been under, but it turns out I’m even more of a genius than I thought.”
“Excuse me? You were trying to prostitute me so Ruskin would be less stressed ?”
He smirks. “As if you didn’t want him too. It was so obvious.”
I think about it now, how my fear of Ruskin mingled with want, until it suffocated the former, taking me over completely. Despite my anxiety and exhaustion, my body warms at the thought.
“And now I know why,” Destan continues. “ Naminai .” He blinks, looking shocked all over again at the thought. “Amazing. When did you know?”
“When I went home, I found out my true name from a changeling in Styrland who did the ceremony for my mom when I was a baby. That’s when I started to suspect, because there was obviously a connection between mine and his.”
“And then you started probing me for information,” he says. “So sneaky.”
“I wanted to be sure, and you didn’t think I could possibly be asking for myself.”
“Not exactly my fault. A human with a true name is about as rare as one with magic,” he says, giving me a knowing look. “When were you sure?”
“On the way to Unseelie.” I swallow at the memory. It’s taken on a new edge now I’m the only one who remembers it. “Ruskin accidentally channeled his magic to me, but he didn’t realize it. I told him what I suspected about our true name matching once we got to the Unseelie Court, but I didn’t accept the bond or tell him my true name until Evanthe’s attack.”
Destan digests this, staring at the gate ahead of us. “A lot makes sense to me now. I was just helping things along, but it was like you two were being pulled to each other—like planets stuck in orbit.”
I stare at him. It’s just coincidence that he would use that analogy, but he’s referencing our true names without realizing it. Planets in orbit. The sun and the moon. I suppose we were like that. The question is, will that pull be enough to bring us together again?
There’s movement by the gate and we both scramble up as Ruskin emerges, leading what looks like a working horse and a pony.
“The best I could find on short notice,” he says when we reach him, handing the reins over. “And here.” He passes me a bag too, our hands brushing, and it’s like a spark has passed between us, my eyes flying to his. “As a human, I imagine you’re in need of supplies,” he says.
I open the back and feel my empty stomach grumble with relief. It’s full of food from Styrland: bread, cheese, and fruit. He’d thought I might need it, even though I didn’t ask. That meant something, right? I don’t stand on ceremony, falling on the food ravenously. I tear into the bread, and then turn to the apple, licking the juice from my fingers after my first bite.
I look up and see him watching me, that same feral glint to his gaze as he lingers on my mouth and fingers. The bond between us jolts with a surge of energy.
I tear my gaze away, unable to handle him looking at me like that, when he keeps on speaking to me like a stranger.
“I’m guessing they didn’t cost much,” I say, looking at the pony, trying to shake off the moment. At least these horses aren’t as far off the ground as the Calasian.
“They didn’t cost me any money,” Ruskin says, like that should be obvious.
I gape at him. “You stole them?” I say, appalled. Most people in Styrland are barely scraping by. I’d hate to think what losing these will do to some poor farming family or ostler.
Ruskin is unmoved. “I made a deal,” he says. Which makes my heart sink all over again, because not so long ago he’d promised me he’d stopped striking those kinds of bargains.
“A fair one, I hope.”
His eyes glint dangerously. “Fair enough.”
The despair continues to creep up on me as we ready the horses and set off. What seems “fair” to this Ruskin, someone who doesn’t have any understanding of my kind, who hasn’t spent two hundred years getting to know them?
I realize, looking forward, that it’s not the Unseelie Court that truly has me worried. I can’t even bring myself to focus too much on the dark shadow that Evanthe represents at this moment. I’m too caught up in knots of guilt and fear. Earlier today, I was worried Ruskin might be dead. Now I have him back, and all I can wonder is if that’s really the case. Because if he can’t remember us, or who he was…
Then who really came back from Interra with me?