Chapter 38 #2
Ellaryn’s eyes flicked up, meeting hers.
“He makes you… kill, doesn’t he?” Arielle asked, and the question rendered Ellaryn still. She had no words. How could she explain the weight she carried, the life she had been forced to live?
The armour she’d worn around Arielle, the sternness that had been second nature—it felt brittle now. She felt exposed, as though the girl could see straight through her.
Ellaryn’s silence answered her question. Arielle sighed, a quiet acceptance in her tone.
“So… you’re a prisoner?” she deduced.
“It doesn’t matter what I am,” Ellaryn said, shaking her head. “I’ve killed. I’ve killed so many—”
“But—”
“I’m dangerous,” Ellaryn interrupted, her voice cracking slightly.
“Whether he makes me kill or not… I’m still a killer.
” Her vision blurred, tears threatening to fall, prickling her eyes.
“And that’s something I’ll live with for the rest of my life.
” She breathed, the confession hollowing her out.
“But it won’t matter soon, anyway,” Ellaryn said, her voice low.
“The city will finally be able to breathe again. Without the King… without me.”
“You’re leaving?” Arielle asked, concern threading through her tone.
Ellaryn shook her head slowly. “The King and I… we’re connected. When he takes his final breath, mine will follow.”
“You’re going to… die?” Arielle whispered, disbelief and fear coiling in her chest.
“Quite fitting, don’t you think?” Ellaryn said, letting out a shaky breath, her gaze distant.
Arielle’s eyes softened, full of sympathy. “Isn’t there… another way?”
“Not unless the King unbinds my soul,” Ellaryn said quietly, her shoulders sagging slightly. “And I don’t see him doing that anytime soon.”
“Oh,” Arielle murmured, the word heavy with the weight of understanding.
Ellaryn lifted her head, meeting Arielle’s gaze. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “It’s about time I got what I deserved.”
Another quiet followed Ellaryn’s words as she gazed down at the baby, a stray tear rolling down her face. “You’re gonna live.” She whispered to him. “You’ll get your parents back.”
When the baby had finally drifted off to sleep, Ellaryn placed the milk bottle on Xander’s desk and gently laid the child on the mattress. He’d drunk just under a quarter of the bottle—at this rate, it wouldn’t last long.
Ellaryn rose to her feet, her knees aching from the stretch, and walked to the coat hanger, gripping her cloak. She felt Arielle’s eyes on her back, probably lingering on the scars that marred her skin, but she ignored them.
She didn’t need anyone feeling sorry for her. Not Arielle. Not even Xander.
Having Xander around was just as bad.
She didn’t need absolution. She needed to face what she had done.
“I should get going,” Ellaryn said quietly, straightening her posture. “I don’t want the King to realise I’m gone.”
Arielle nodded, her attention returning to the papers spread across the desk.
Ellaryn turned towards the door, but something caught her eye.
A book.
It lay half-buried beneath a stack of documents, its worn cover peeking out just enough to draw her attention. She frowned. She was certain it hadn’t been there before, which meant Xander had been reading it just before he left.
Curiosity got the better of her.
She reached across the desk and pulled it free.
The cover made her heart skip.
‘Into Mind and Memory.’
Ellaryn’s fingers tightened around the cover.
Memory? Like the memory blocks Xander had spoken of?
Had Xander been researching the process used on her memories?
Had he been right about the King?
Had he scrambled her mind, buried something deep within her and replaced the truth with a mirage?
She opened the book and began to read.
Only the strongest Potentials possess the power to warp and rewrite the mind. To delve into another’s memories is no small feat. It requires patience, practice and immense power.
Ellaryn’s breath caught.
This ability is dangerous.
Her eyes raced over the next lines.
Those capable of entering the mind can do more than observe. They can erase, alter or fabricate memories, reshaping a person’s perception of reality without their knowledge. Victims may act against those they love—or even against themselves—without ever realising they have been manipulated.
Ellaryn swallowed hard.
Xander had been inside her mind.
He had touched something buried within her and dragged it to the surface. Memories she had believed were lost to time had come flooding back beneath his fingertips.
But what if they weren’t memories at all?
What if they had been planted?
Her stomach twisted, but she forced herself to keep reading.
To unblock or release an altered memory, a reverse enchantment must be performed by the Potential who placed the original spell.
Ellaryn stared at the words.
Well, that wouldn’t do.
The King was never going to unblock her memories. Not willingly. Not ever.
She turned the page.
In other cases, the death of the Potential responsible for the enchantment will release all memory blocks.
Ellaryn froze.
She read the sentence again.
And again.
Her pulse quickened.
That was interesting.
Though it would be of little use to her if she were dead.
And that was exactly what she would be when the King no longer breathed.
Still…
A tiny flicker of hope stirred within her.
If the King died first, and she could somehow hold on for just a moment longer—keep death at bay for a single breath, a single heartbeat—then perhaps she would remember.
Everything.
Her fingers trembled as she closed the book.
Who was she?
The question pressed against the inside of her skull.
If the King had stripped away her memories, then everything she believed about herself could be a lie. Her childhood. Her past. Even the person she thought she was.
What if Ellaryn had never been Ellaryn at all?
She hurriedly returned the book to the desk, careful to place it exactly where she had found it. Her mind buzzed with questions, each one colliding with the next.
She needed answers.
But before she could reach the door, the wall beside her rippled.
Ellaryn stopped dead.
The stone shimmered as though it had become water, its surface rolling beneath an invisible current. Her hand instinctively moved towards the hilt of her sword.
Then a head emerged through the wall.
Bright blond hair.
Her heart skipped.
“Xander!” she exclaimed, the relief and joy spilling out before she could stop herself. She wrapped her arms around him instinctively. He returned the hug instantly, his arms tightening around her waist.
“Hello,” he said softly.
“You came back!” she mumbled into his chest.
“Of course I came back,” he chuckled.
Ellaryn pulled back, suddenly aware of Arielle’s watchful gaze, and straightened herself.
“I didn’t realise we had company,” Xander said, tilting his head, cobalt eyes flicking across the room.
“Oh, right,” Ellaryn said, gesturing toward the blonde girl in hospital clothes. “This is Arielle. She needs your help.”
Arielle gave a small wave.
“And so does he,” Ellaryn added, nodding toward the baby on the mattress.
“Is he…?” Xander asked, the question hanging between them.
Ellaryn shook her head. “Can you get them out?”
“Yes.”