I closed my eyes and let it come.
“It wasn’t just the battle. There was a life before that. A farm—barely more than a shack, but it was ours. Catherine made it beautiful, even when the roof leaked and the sheep chewed the walls. She’d hang wildflowers from the rafters. Every Sunday, she’d walk to the river with her sisters and bring back armfuls of green, fill the place until it looked like we lived in a goddamn forest.” I laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“She had these hands, always stained with earth or ink. She’d help me with repairs, never complained, even when I smashed her thumb with a hammer once. Just wrapped it up and cursed me out in Gaelic.” I smiled, remembering the sound. “When she was tired, she’d lean back and stare out the window at nothing, humming old songs her mother taught her. Sometimes she’d cry, but never when I was watching.”
Scarlette’s gaze burned into me. “What about you? What did she see in you?”
I shrugged. “She said I made her feel safe. That I was the only one who listened.”
Vin scribbled that down, like it was gospel.
“Night before the battle, we fought. I didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to join the others. She said if I stayed, I’d be branded a coward. If I went, I’d never come home. Either way, we’d loseeach other.” My hand shook a little as I poured another shot. Moab reached over and steadied the bottle for me. I let him. “She wore a blue ribbon in her hair that night. The first thing I ever gave her, when we were kids. She didn’t say goodbye. Just pressed it into my palm and told me to come back.”
I opened my fist, stared at the white scar bisecting my lifeline. “She knew I wouldn’t.”
The silence was a living thing.
Finally, Canon spoke. “You realize this is insane, right?”
I didn’t look at him. “I do.”
“You think you’re the only person who’s lost someone? Who dreams about what could’ve been?”
“No,” I said. “But I’m the only one who remembers.”
Vin jumped in, voice shaking. “It’s not impossible. There are documented cases—” he nodded at Moab and Scarlette.
Canon cut him off. “You’re enabling him.”
Vin’s face flushed. “You don’t know that.”
“Enough,” I said, and they both shut up.
I turned to Scarlette. “You’ve seen the other side. You know there’s more to this than dreams.”
Her jaw tightened. “I’ve seen what magic does to people.”
“It can fix this.” I gestured to the room, to myself.
She said nothing.
Moab leaned in. “If you could do it—if you could go back—what would you change?”
I didn’t hesitate. “I’d save her.”
Vin looked up, eyes shining. “But you died on that hill.”
“I did,” I said. “But maybe this time, I won’t.”
Canon stood. “This is bullshit. You want to drink yourself to death, fine. But don’t drag the rest of us down with you.”
He left, boots thudding hard on the tile. The three of us sat in the echo of his absence.
Scarlette reached for her glass, but her hand stopped short, fingers trembling. “You really believe I could send you back?”
I met her gaze. “You’ve got the same magic that brought you and Moab here. I know you do.”
She swallowed. “It’s not safe. Not for you. Not for me. It worked once, but that doesn’t mean it’ll work again.”
