Chapter 29 #2
I wanted to trust him. I understood that, despite the fact that he was the Devil, Fen was human and prone to human mistakes.
No one was perfect. I’d violated our bond to figure out what he’d kept from me.
I even understood why he hadn’t wanted to tell me, but none of that mattered.
He’d been careless with Talia, and this was the second time he’d been callous with me.
Every instinct I had was screaming at me that I couldn’t trust him.
Tears pricked at my eyes. No matter what I did, I always seemed to end up here, certain that being alone was the only safe course of action.
Except that was no longer possible. Fen and I were bonded together, because the realm needed us to be.
Its survival depended on us figuring out how to be partners. I wanted that, I just didn’t know how.
“I’m not worthy of you, Maeve. I told you about my wife. I’ve ruined every relationship I’ve ever had. You should be running in the other direction.”
A flare of anger cut through me. “No.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t.” I glared at him. “You don’t get to give up because you made a stupid decision decades ago, and neither do I.” I shoved back at that ugly hissing voice in my head that told me I was making the wrong choice. “The In Between needs us to trust each other.”
“How do we do that?”
“I don’t know. We have to stop letting our past dictate our actions. I’m hoping the Pool of Memory will help me figure it out.”
Fen swallowed. His end of our bond eased open. Fear and hope flowed towards me.
“Are any of your previous lovers still in the In Between?” I asked.
“Only two in addition to Talia, both Judges.” He cleared his throat. “The rest all moved on to the After before you arrived.”
Thank the Guardian for small mercies. “I’d like their names, so I’m not surprised if we cross paths.”
“Eris and James.”
I nodded. I recognized the names, but I had no idea what they looked like. I’d ask Daphne next time I saw her who they were. I looked around the garden, the beautiful space so at odds with the tone of our conversation. “Why did you bring me here?”
“My predecessor created this for Death, a place for them to share. I wanted to share it with you in case I never got another chance to.” His cheeks colored.
“Thank you. I love it.” Part of me wanted to touch him, but I wasn’t ready for that.
“It’s also on the way to the Pool of Memory.”
I raised one eyebrow. “You could have just told me that.”
“I wanted to be honest.” He shrugged.
I pressed my lips together, not ready to reward him with a smile. “Smooth.”
His small chuckle thawed something in my chest.
“Lead on.” I waved him in front of me and followed him further into the garden.
A few minutes later, the quiet roar of a waterfall was audible, and not long after that the garden ended at the edge of a cliff. The walls of the cave lay about a hundred feet across a yawning chasm. About halfway down lay the mouth of the waterfall which tumbled into a pool at the bottom.
“There it is,” Fen said. “The Pool of Memory.”
I bit my lip and stepped back from the edge, trying not to think about how far down the bottom was. “How do we get down there?” My eyes scanned the cliff’s edge looking for the start of a path, but I couldn’t find one.
“We shadow-step.” He held out his hand.
* * *
We stepped out onto a rocky beach on the shore of the Pool.
It was bigger than it had looked from the top of the cliff, about the size of the throne room on the bridge.
The waterfall wasn’t wide, but it tumbled from a height that made it crash into the pool with enough force to fill it with small churning waves.
The air around us was still, despite the roaring falls, like a breath held in anticipation. The place felt ancient, as if it held all the memories of all the lives everyone had ever lived.
“That looks cold,” Fen said, eyeing the Pool with distrust.
I bit the inside of my cheek, remembering what I’d seen in the mural, how the man had come out shivering and pale, like he’d seen a ghost. Getting in the water was not something I wanted to do, but I also wanted to complete the first trial and face whatever was waiting for me in there.
So I didn’t say anything, just reached for the hem of my dress.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Removing my clothes so I have something dry when I get out.”
“They won’t stay dry if you put them back on.” His eyes followed my every movement as I pulled my dress over my head.
“Maybe, but there’s nothing worse than wet clothes. Besides, I’d rather not have them weighing me down.” I bent to unlace my boots.
“Do you not know how to swim?” Fen asked.
“I do.” I had learned as a small child, before I started seeing visions. “But it’s been a long time.”
He started to pace while I removed my boots and socks.
Dressed only in my panties and breast band, I walked to the water’s edge.
“Maeve.” Fen’s voice had an urgency that made me turn. “I said you should run in the other direction, but that doesn’t mean I want you to. Please, be careful.” It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but after a moment he closed his mouth.
His plea warmed me a little, and I gave him a small smile and a nod. Then I turned and waded into the Pool.
The water was icy cold, making me shiver, but I kept going until it was up to my chest. Taking a deep breath, I ducked down until I was fully submerged. My eyes closed of their own volition.
* * *
“Maeve, bring the plates and forks, please.” I opened my eyes at my mother’s voice.
I was no longer underwater. Blinking, I took in the familiar sight of my parents’ drawing room.
A fire crackled in the fireplace beneath the carved wooden mantle.
My mother stood by a table in the corner with a fruit pie on it.
My father and brother sat in their usual after-dinner spots on either side of a chess board setting up the pieces.
Everything was where I remembered it—my mother’s embroidery basket next to the tufted velvet couch, the family portraits I’d painted one summer hanging on one wall and shelves full of books along another.
My eyes stung. How many times had I longed to be back here with them?
It was like stepping into a hot bath after a long, hard day.
My shoulders relaxed and my mind quieted, as if something that had gone missing was found, back in its proper place.
I knew it was a memory, but I didn’t care.
For the first time in years, I felt safe.
“Maeve?” My mother’s eyes were narrowed in concern.
“Sorry. Be right there.” My body moved automatically to a small sideboard where a stack of plates and forks sat next to the glass bottle of my father’s favorite whiskey.
I half expected my hands to go straight through them, but they were solid, the gold edges of the plates smooth, the silver of the forks a little bit rough where they’d been scoured too many times.
As I brought them across the room to my mother, I felt a tug in her direction, almost as if I was being pulled along by an unseen force.
As she cut the pie and distributed slices, my eyes traced the features of her face, lingering on the soft lines around her eyes.
I’d forgotten she had those. I tried to imprint every detail of her in my memory so I wouldn’t lose any more of her.
“Hand these out and come back for yours,” she said, passing me two plates.
I felt the same tug; except this time, it pulled me to accept the plates and walk them over to my father and brother.
It was like there was a predetermined path of what had happened before, which made sense since I was in a memory.
I could drop into it and let it pull me along, but I could also resist it, at least a little bit, which left me with three questions.
When was this memory from? How far could I deviate from it?
And why was I in this memory for my first trial?
To answer the first, I looked around as I went back for my own piece and settled on the couch next to my mother.
My brother looked much like I remembered him before he died, tall and broad.
He’d shot up in height and had started to fill out the summer before and hadn’t yet adjusted.
Gods, I’d missed his awkwardness. It had been especially funny since he’d always treated me as if he were the older sibling, regardless of his size.
His appearance meant it was probably the same year, but how close to that fateful day were we?
“How are things in the warehouse, James?” my mother asked.
“They’re well. Having Colt join us has been a godsend. He’s working out well, Maeve. If things continue like they are, you may be able to marry him next year.” He gave me a warm smile that pierced me straight through.
I felt the memory version of me perk up, even as my heart sank. “Really, Papa?”
“Yes. It’s early so I can’t make any promises, but he’s quite bright. I’m pleasantly surprised.” He moved a piece on the board, causing my brother to groan. “You telegraph all your emotions which makes you so easy to beat.” He shook his head fondly.
“How do you know I’m not just doing it to throw you off?” my brother said.
As they bickered, my mind spun. I knew exactly when this was.
The night before it all happened. I’d been so happy, excited for the future that Colt and I had planned together.
He’d said he wanted to marry me, but he didn’t have the means, so I’d convinced my father to hire him.
I didn’t know that what he wanted was access to my father’s safe so he could steal his merchant ring, motive as to why I’d supposedly murdered him, I guess.
“Maeve?” My mother grasped one of my hands. “Are you sure about him?” She looked at me with such love and concern.
“I’m sure.” I said, my tone cold. “He’s everything I want.” My heart broke as memory me yanked my hand from my mother’s grasp and stood to clear the empty plates to the sideboard.