Chapter 28 #3
“What can I do?” Her voice croaked. “Can you make me remember? Is there magic that can pull it out?”
Vera saw Merlin’s eagerness, but a careworn determination quickly replaced it. “There is,” he said. “It is invasive, and it will be painful.”
“All right,” Vera said. What choice was there? How could she choose her own comfort and damn the kingdom—damn the future? “How do we do this?”
“The procedure requires your consent, and you can end it at any time. I will enter your conscious memories and …” He paused, considering.
“Add my memories of you from before. I’ll use things that parallel emotional experiences of the life you know to help regenerate the life you don’t recall.
That’s the part that hurts. And it’s best we only do this once, so when you’re ready, you should take this. ”
He held up a glass vial between his thumb and middle finger.
The grey substance in it swirled of its own accord, only held in by the cork stopper.
It was more than mist and less than liquid as it listlessly tapped at the cork like it knew that was the way out.
Vera didn’t have to breathe the question aloud. Merlin was already answering it.
“It does have an element that increases your attraction to Arthur. I’m sorry, but we can’t proceed without it.
That connection is the essential thread of your memory.
Largely, though, this is a sensitivity potion.
It won’t help you recall anything from before, but it will make all that you experience today more vivid.
You won’t forget a single moment of what’s to come.
I do not wish to mislead you, Guinevere.
” He dropped his free hand to her arm. “This will not be pleasant. If we do it right, it could make all the difference.”
It gave her pause. The first procedure had been frightening and debilitating enough.
“I’m surprised,” Merlin said, pulling Vera from her anxiety. “You never asked me why Viviane turned on you.”
She hadn’t thought to. “Why?”
“Oh, dear girl.” The wisp of a sad smile crossed his face.
“You changed your mind. Your love for Arthur pulled you back. Call Viviane’s hold on you bewitching, call it convincing …
that you could break it was no small feat.
You came to me, and you told me everything.
I shouldn’t have let you be unprotected for a moment after that.
I will never forgive myself for that error.
I was within seconds of being too late.” He shook his head before looking at Vera with deep fondness, maybe even admiration.
“The point is that you were willing to sacrifice your own life to try to fix what was broken.”
Merlin spun the glass vial idly in his fingers.
Guinevere had a part in creating the mess, but she’d given her existence in an effort to make things right.
Vera felt no connection to the actions of her former self.
Nevertheless, she was riddled with a sense of responsibility.
She could endure pain to complete the undoing of Guinevere’s betrayal.
Indeed, she was quite literally made for it.
Vera took the vial from Merlin’s outstretched palm. She unstopped it and threw its contents back like a shot of liquor. The grey substance slid over her tongue, smooth and tasteless. It left a trail of warmth in its wake all the way down her throat.
As it all settled in her stomach, the warmth turned into a burn, and her impulsivity felt like a mistake. Vera gripped the desk in front of her, gasping helplessly. The stinging heat began to fade as soon as it started, replaced by something different than she’d ever known.
The tips of her fingers prickled with sensation.
She felt not only the chair beneath her but the wood’s grain through her clothing.
The dim room now seemed bathed in light, and beyond the cellar’s earthy aroma, Vera caught a whiff of baking bread from dinner preparations in the kitchen.
She could hear the whirring mechanism of the well cranking above.
Her senses had taken on all the fire of the potion.
This must have been how Randall felt all the time.
Merlin stood and rounded the desk to stand right behind Vera. “Do I have your permission to enter your mind?” he asked. Vera was relieved that it was nearly a whisper.
“Yes,” she breathed. Her heart pounded as loudly as the fire crackling in the hearth.
“If you need me to stop, say the word.” Merlin raised his hands and carefully positioned them on Vera’s head.
His palms sealed over her ears firmly enough that they created a suction, making a surreal growling white noise.
His middle and index fingers pressed into each of her temples, the next finger right on her cheekbones, his pinkies along her jaw, holding it tightly in place.
Vera trembled under the pressure of the mage’s surprising strength.
“Ready?” he murmured.
She tried to nod, but Merlin’s hands held her skull in place.
“Close your eyes, Guinevere.”
She took a deep breath and shut her eyes as she exhaled.
“Let’s begin.”