“Arach, I'm not trying to take her. I can't, even if I wanted to. And we'll be fine,” I said. “If something bad had happened during the months I've been away, one of the guys would have mirrored us. But we haven't heard from them.”
“No, they wouldn't have mirrored because you'd be there, doing whatever it is that needs to be done.”
That was the mind-blowing part of the Rings of Remembrance. They were made by the Fey to remember their past and were meant to take a faerie into their past self to re-experience whatever they'd forgotten. When it was used like that, the wearer couldn't change anything because they'd already lived through it. They simply watched it happen like a living movie, unable to alter anything that they'd done or said. But I'd found a loophole.
If I used the ring to travel back in time to a realm that I hadn't been in during that time, I could move about freely. And as long as I kept returning to a realm seconds after I'd left it, it was as if I had never left. Which meant that I was in at least two places at once. All the time. And I say “at least” because there are three realms—Faerie, God, and Human. I generally don't use the ring to jump between the God and Human realms, but it's an option.
All that is to say that I was currently in the God Realm even while I prepared to leave Faerie. Yes, as I said, it's a mind twister. Technically, I wouldn't be in the God Realm until I went back, but because I was intending to, if I mirrored Pride Palace right then, I might be able to catch a glimpse of myself. This is why we try not to mirror each other when I'm away. But if there's an emergency, one of my husbands will use the mirror magic to contact Arach or vice versa.
This meant that Arach had a point. But so did I.
“Yes, but if there was a war during those five months,Iwould have mirrored you and asked you to use your ring to come to the God Realm to help us fight.”
Arach's stunning fey face, with its sharp Dragon-Sidhe features, squished up as he tried to work that one out. His dandelion-yellow dragon eyes narrowed and a plume of smoke trailed out of his nose. “Damn this time thing!”
“It doesn't matter. You'll know for certain right after we leave.” I kissed Samara goodbye and handed her to Arach. “And you aren't the one who just gave birth to a baby who you now have to leave behind.”
Arach sighed and looked down at our daughter. “You're right. I don't think I could leave her so soon.”
“I don't want to, but I've been away from everyone else for too long.” I kissed Samara again. “Oh, little girl, I really hate to go when you're only a week old. But I'll be right back and then we'll take you to see the rest of your family. Just wait until your Grandma hears that you were born on her birthday. She's going to be thrilled.”
“Which Grandma?” Rian asked.
“My mother in this life. Your human grandma.”
“Oh. I miss Grandma. Maybe I should go too.”
“Nice try, honey.” I kissed Rian's cheek. “But you know the rings can only take one person apiece.”
“Be careful, Vervain,” Arach said while Rian pouted.
“I will. Now, kiss your son goodbye.”
My husband bent to hug Brevyn. “I love you, Son. Look after your mother. Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid.”
“Yes, Father,” Brevyn said. “I'll try my best.”
“Hey!” I glared at both of them while Rian laughed.
Dexter, my Nurial companion, and his daughter, Deidre, nosed my leg.
“At least you two have faith in me.” I crouched to hug each Nurial and rub their silky black fur, stroking their pert ears and long necks. “You two look after those two.” I pointed at Arach and Rian. “And make suretheydon't do anything stupid with Samara.”
The Nurials yipped in unison, lifting their fox-like snouts toward my husband.
“Hey!” Rian huffed, sounding just like me.
Arach just helped me up and pulled me into his arms, one of which held our daughter. The boys groaned as we took our time kissing goodbye.
I nuzzled my baby girl once more, then hugged Rian. “I love you, Ri.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
“We'll be right back,” Brevyn said.
The boys held each other's stares—Rian's worried and Brevyn's reassuring—as Brev and I clasped hands and journeyed back in time. I led the trip, pulling Brevyn with me, the magic of his father's ring aligning with mine.
Seconds later and also months earlier, we appeared in Pride Palace's foyer, right before the central staircase of pale stone that spiraled up through all six floors, circling the gold elevator. My other husbands and children were gathered there, where they had seen me off five months ago (seconds for them).
