23
NEPHELE
“My mind simply cannot process this.”
Alexus sits across from me on a large leather footrest in Zahira’s study. A crackling fire burns beside us in the hearth, the amber light shimmering against the tears streaking his exhausted face. One hand clasps the golden vessel that contains his stolen memories of Raina, while the other holds my father’s letter.
“He knew about Raina and me.” He holds up the letter. “How long? Her whole life? A few years? Did he know about you? That you would come to Winterhold because of me? And he just let you go? For what?”
He did let me go. Even told me to stay in Winterhold and devote myself to studying and learning my craft. He’d said I would be needed one day, and now I feel the power of his sacrifice. Of my own. Even if I hadn’t understood, I was being prepared for something.
For now.
“He did it because there is a grander design at work,” I remind him, repeating the words from Father’s letter. “Something bigger than we can imagine.”
“But this also means he knew Thamaos took my memories, Nephele. And not only that, but he knew where they were kept. And he was skilled enough to steal them from Min-Thuret and live to tell about it.”
“Only he didn’t tell.”
Alexus stares at the urn, his mind working so hard behind his green eyes. “I can’t decide if I think he should have told me or not. I only know that I wish I’d known Rowan. I wish he were here to explain everything. From how he was the Keeper of the God Knife to how in gods’ death he foundthis.” Again, he focuses on the urn, clinging to it tightly. “Even from reading his words,” he adds, “I feel we all could use his presence right about now.”
“He was so wonderful, Alexus. I wish he were here, too.” My voice breaks across choked-back tears. “Because I don’t know how to guide you with this.”
He shakes his head and wipes his cheek with the back of his hand. “You’ve done enough. I’ll figure it out. If I can access these memories, there’s no telling what I might learn. Like your father said, knowledge is power, right? And knowledge lies in memory.”
I recall something then. “He always taught Raina and me that, with the right hands, most any magick can be undone. This is not a permanent state for you. Youwillremember.” I reach across the small distance between us and touch his face. “See Ingrid. Before I go, I want you to promise me that you will. I don’t know if she can help with this, and I know you’re scared of what you might find. But… just go. Please? Take the urn.”
He nods and leans into my touch. “All right. I’ll go.”
Satisfied, I gather my pack and sling the strap across my body. “I’ll keep the prince’s memories safe. Once I reach Winterhold, they’ll go in the hold beneath the castle, straightaway. I just pray to Loria that Colden gets him out of Min-Thuret so perhaps we can get the chance to meet Elias Gherahn.”
The look on his face isn’t one of promise, and he says nothing in response about his old friend. I know there’s much to work through when it comes to the prince, things we may not be able to see beyond, no matter who he was in the past. But more than a thread of memory was stolen from him. He doesn’t even know his name. He was stripped of everything that made him Elias Gherahn and left an empty, lonely, roaming vessel for three centuries. No matter what he’s done under Thamaos’s poisonous command, I can’t place all the blame on his shoulders.
Alexus hands me Father’s note and pushes his hair back from his face, pausing with his elbow on his knee, his fingers sticking out of his dark locks. “I know I said I’d drop this, but I hate letting you leave with Neri.”
A sigh leaves me. Not that I believed I would get out of this conversation withoutsomemention of the wolf, but I no longer know what to say. That he’s so very different than I imagined? That perhaps three hundred years of viewing the human world from within Alexus’s cage changed him in some way? I don’t sense cruelty in Neri. I don’t sense evil, no matter what jibes I throw at him. He is everything I didn’t want or need him to be.
But I can’t say those words to Alexus.
“I can see that you’ve found comfort with him,” he goes on. “That’s a struggle for me for obvious reasons, but I also feel a duty to take care of you for Colden and Raina. And I can’t imagine either of them being all right with this arrangement. But I won’t say anything else exceptplease be safe.”
I squeeze his knee and try to ease him as best I can. “Iwillbe safe. Believe it or not, I feel no fear for the wolf. He hasn’t overstepped any line I’ve drawn. If anything, he wants to protect me just as much as you do.”
Again, he says nothing, watching silently as I fold the note and put it away in my pack.
With the quiet suddenly so thick, I’m left to wonder if I should tell him everything we’ve learned about the curse. I decide against that quickly, though, because the tension in him visibly eased at my words. I can’t leave him here alone, even more worried than before.
Hand in hand, we head to the great room where everyone waits for us, each face solemn. I’m nervous and worried. The return from the barracks wasn’t the smoothest. It was noticeable enough that Neri and I devoured the last of Mari’s stew, just to be on the safe side.
Alexus and I pause just inside the doorway, and I lean over to kiss his cheek, my hand around his wrist. “Thank you for trusting me to do this. I swear I’ll do my very best to lead our people.”
“I have no doubt in you,” he says. But his gaze slides across the room. Because he does have doubt in the god who’s traveling with me.
Gripping the strap across my chest, I meet Neri’s golden gaze. He stands from his chair and walks toward me, dressed in black, his white hair a stark contrast against his leather jacket. My heart pounds with his every booted step, knowing that we might make it to Winterhold, and we might not.
But that worry is forusto deal with. Us and us alone.
He stops a stride away, hands tucked in the front pockets of his leathers, galatine sword and a pack slung across his back. “You ready?”
