25. Chapter 25
When Yareli came to, Erick was by her side. His blond hair was swept in odd angles, and dark eye bags hung on his face. He had fallen asleep on his palm, his elbow resting on her bed.
Careful not to disturb him, she slipped out of bed and found a matching pair of pants in her dresser.
He must have been truly exhausted, because he didn’t stir when the dresser groaned closed, and the door to her room squeaked open.
Torches stretched from left to right as far as her eye could see in the stone hallway, and silence blared.
It was reckless to leave her room without knowing where she was, especially barefoot, but thoughts raced through her head, leaving her without much choice. She had to run.
She decided on a direction—left—and walked for a couple of torches before she came across August, leaning against the wall.
Her heart leaped in her chest. She understood it now: her immediate attraction to him, her desire to close the physical distance between them.
It was the remnants of her old crush. Old because she wasn’t that Yareli anymore.
And he wasn’t August anymore.
“Augrys,” she said, surprised at the evenness of her tone.
“Yareli.”
Her name on his lips brought goose bumps to her skin. Flashbacks of her previous attempt to kiss him by their campfire brought a heat to her cheeks. It had been very careless of her to have been so forward.
“I wanted to get some fresh air,” she told him. “Care to lead the way?”
He gave her bare feet a pointed look, and she crossed her legs, putting one foot on top of the other as if she could hide them.
“I, uh, didn’t think ahead.”
“Clearly,” he replied, but there wasn’t any judgment in his tone. It was… amusement. He produced a pair of sandals from thin air and flicked them at her.
She mumbled her thanks, catching the sandals with ease.
He cocked his head, pointing behind him, and she trailed after him, unsure of how to approach this version of him.
He was different—less guarded, no, that wasn’t it.
He was warmer, friendlier, as he had been on their trip to visit the Curse Eater.
His walls were still up, hiding the real him, but he was no longer shutting her out.
It didn’t make his behavior any less confusing.
Soon, the bare walls became adorned with glittering stones arranged in swirling patterns.
Occasionally, woven tapestries, filled with depictions of animals and insects, hung between the torches.
Her feet stilled by one, her attention enraptured by the picture.
A great tree took up the majority of the tapestry; its branches reached far and wide, filled with bountiful, transparent leaves.
Sunlight reflected off them, illuminating the tree with its own personal rainbow.
“Our Great Tree,” Augrys said from behind her.
She startled. He had moved so silently she hadn’t noticed him approach her. She slid her gaze toward him, ignoring the way the torch’s light highlighted his beautiful cheekbones.
“I’ve heard mentions of it.”
“We have no gods in Izmari, but our Great Tree may as well be our one deity. We believe we came to be from it, blessed by the dew of its leaves and nurtured by its holy sap.”
“Where is it?”
“Its location, if it ever existed, has been lost to history.” Then, as if the thought came to him, he added, “Although, if anyone did know, it would be our queen.”
“It’s beautiful.”
They continued in silence after that. Eventually, they reached stairs that seemed to stretch for miles before they finally arrived at a single stone door.
There was no handle. Yareli raised an eyebrow at Augrys.
He lifted his finger, asking her to wait, then placed his hand on the door.
It glowed, blinding her with the sudden light.
A bitter breeze blew her hair across her face, and an open doorway revealed the evening sky.
Augrys stepped outside, his hands in his pockets, and turned to her. “Coming?”
The old ache in her chest resurfaced at the sight.
He looked so much like August; she lost her sense of time and place for a brief moment and thought they were back in the human realm.
But there was still a gaping hole in her memories; it oozed a black-colored substance, tarnishing her memory vault—turning a portion of the lake dark.
She knew, without having to touch the tar-like liquid, that it contained memories of her.
Memories of her family, her childhood—what had essentially nurtured her into who she was.
Although she had remembered August and their time together in college, she was still missing herself. All she had was who she was now.
And it would have to be enough. Because deep down, she was afraid of touching it—afraid of what it contained. Something told her it wasn’t good. She sent a mental apology to her mom—the only one she had fully remembered. Her daughter was a coward.
“Are you alright?” Augrys had come closer, a frown on his face.
Embarrassed, Yareli jumped into action, propelling herself through the door into the cold night. She walked past him, hiding her emotional turmoil from him.
“Yeah, never better.”
There was a pause, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew she was lying.
“Let me cast a warming spell for you, and then we can go.”
Go where? She wanted to ask, but she said nothing, allowing him to cast the spell. Warmth flooded her fingers, and she stopped shivering. Magic truly was wonderful. To think it was at the edge of her fingers… If only she learned how to use it, she could be powerful.
“I know a spot,” Augrys said. “It’ll be a short hike.”
“That’s fine.”
“Follow me then.”
He turned toward the right, walking along the edge of the mountain.
It was wide enough for a single person. Yareli walked behind him.
A small yellow orb appeared by her, lighting up the path for her.
Considerate—that’s what she liked about him.
The thought came to her like an unwanted pest buzzing around her ears, and she swatted it away.
Entrenched in her own rumination—stuck replaying the same accusations in her head like a broken record—she missed when they reached a small clearing next to a ledge.
A log lay near the edge. A chill crept along her veins, and her feet slowed.
It looked exactly as it had in her dream—the log, the view, the ledge.
Whoever that Fae was, whatever that dream was, she no longer doubted the truth of it. She had to go to the capital.
Augrys sat and looked up toward the sky.
He painted a forlorn picture—a solitary Fae, surrounded by darkness, illuminated by the moonlight.
She wondered then if he had wings and if he wished to fly.
Where would he fly to? She was careful to leave a chunk of space between them and joined him in stargazing.
The stars had a way of grounding her, reminding her of her own insignificance in the universe.
The worst of her despair would pass; her turmoil would settle; her life would be set on its correct course once again.
Yet, a nagging worm ate its way through the assurances, asking her what if this was how her life was meant to go—lost, hunted, powerless.
She wanted to reject it, to reject it so fiercely she’d burn the strings of fate themselves.
“Teach me how to use magic,” she said.
“Is that why you insisted on accompanying us to the capital?”
She looked at him only to find that he had already been looking at her. She resisted squirming under his scrutiny. “I won’t survive another encounter with Tuom.”
Yareli knew the truth of her words as she said them; the next time Tuom “collected” her, she would cease to be.
“I can’t beat him with daggers alone. I need magic.”
“You could remain here; Leo could teach you the basics.”
She was prepared for his question. “Erick won’t be here. I want to fix my memories, but there have already been so many interruptions.”
Augrys considered her words; his eyes scanned her own. He dipped his head. “I’ll teach you. We’ll start with the basics after tomorrow.”
Relief mixed with glee flooded her; she smiled. “Thanks.”
He returned to his silent vigil over the stars, and her tongue burned to ask the question: Who are you really? August or Augrys?
But Yareli held her tongue. It was a lot to unravel, a lot to digest, and her stomach was already upset.
She had been lied to, and whoever Augrys had been in the human world was not who was sitting next to her.
She decided then that she would lie about her recovered memories.
Her current relationship with Augrys was complicated, but it was amiable enough.
However, to keep it a secret, she needed to talk to the only person who knew.
Erick had made her bed while she was out; gone were the sweat-drenched sheets, replaced by clean, fresh-smelling linen.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Fine,” she muttered.
She was tiring of being asked that question over and over.
I’m great. I only lost my memories, stuck in a realm not my own, and my love life is a mess.
Perfectly splendid! She reminded herself that soon enough, she would have access to her magic.
The days of being hurt would be over, and she would be the one inflicting the injuries.
“Do you remember what happened?” Erick sat her on a wooden stool.
Yes. “Not really. I remember that I had been talking with Leo.”
“Unfortunately, some of your memories were forcibly brought back at once by something he said. I managed to prevent the worst of it, but I want to take a look now that you’re awake.”
“Sure.”
Within a few seconds, his presence flared in her mind. He sifted through her memories, not touching them but simply viewing their state. He reached the wound and tutted. He left her mind.
“It’s not bad, but you shouldn’t have another episode.”
“Can I still take the tea?”
“Only if you take it properly. One leaf, twice a day.”
“I promise.”
“After this, I think you coming along to the council is for the best. It'll allow me to monitor and treat you. What do you remember?”
He moved from her side, giving his back to her while he ground herbs in his mortar. She stood up, walking along the lines of the room. It was small, but it had a private bathroom.
“I thought you would know. You were there after all, treating it.”
“I try not to act omniscient—makes it more normal for patients, but nothing about mind magic can be unintrusive.”
She leaned back onto his table, crossing her arms. “Then, you know I remembered August.”
His pestle paused momentarily. “I do.”
“I’d like you to keep it a secret from the others.”
He refused to look at her. “I’m his lieutenant.”
She grabbed his hand, preventing him from grinding his herbs any farther. “And I’m your patient. Patient-doctor confidentiality, right?”
When he still looked uncomfortable, she continued speaking. “Besides, what does he gain from knowing? I’m not that Yareli anymore. And you owe me. You encouraged me to go after both of them, knowing I used to have a crush on August.”
Erick dropped the pestle; it made a dull thunk. He looked at her, his guilt displayed on his face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were serious about August. I thought it was harmless flirtation.”
She smiled at him, a bitter, angry smile. “Just keep it a secret, will you?”
“I will, but what are you going to do now?”
She released his hand and pushed away from the table. That was the easy question. Dealing with her feelings for the two Fae men was a whole beast she wasn’t ready to tackle.
“I’m going to get stronger.”