As soon as I think it, the thought flutters away. I try to grasp it in my mind, but it slips past me, like water through my fingers. For reasons I don’t understand, I start to cry, the grief too great to contain.
It’s then I notice how silent the forest is. All the screams are gone.
Taliesin cups my face, concern etched deep into his features. “Please tell me what’s going on. Are you hurt? Do I need to do something? Tell me what you need to be okay.”
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” I whisper. “But something hurts.”
He nods grimly. “It’s the fucking dead. We need to get you out of here.”
I nod and let him guide me away, even though he’s wrong. The dead may have led me here, to this ring of sticks—or whatever they are. But they’re not the source of all this anguish. Irememberedsomething. Something that came and vanished just as quickly, but left a gaping wound behind.
It has something to do with Taliesin. Something important. Something that makes my chest ache with loss.
He's right about one thing, though. I have visited him in his dreams. How? I don’t know. When is even a better question. But I do know one thing with absolute certainty. The Order made sure I never remembered.
Hours pass without incident. I’ve never been so grateful for silence. Taliesin keeps his hand on the small of my back the entire way, like touch alone will hold me together. Eventually we stop at a stream to rest and wash the day from our skin.
Even with the night turning the air cold, I welcome the shock of the water. One splash, and it feels like it might scour the horror from me entirely.
Taliesin offers me the last of the salted beef.
I push it away. “I’m not hungry.”
“You should eat,” he says. “We have another hour or two of travel.”
“I can’t stomach it. Not right now.” I hug my arms to my chest.
“Do you want to talk about what that was back there?” he asks lightly, like it means nothing in the world to him. Butthere’s a tension in his jaw that betrays him. He cares. I just don’t understand why.
“No.” I sigh, my hands dropping to my sides. “I don’t want to talk about it because I don’t understand it. I don’t even really remember what it was. Something came to me and then left. A memory, I think.” Or a dream?
His brow furrows. “So you remembered something. And now you don’t?”
“It left me when you pulled me away from the sticks.”
He frowns and glances over his shoulder, like he’s considering turning us around. “You should have said something. We could have stayed, tried again.”
“I was rattled,” I say quietly. “Still am.”
“We can go back.”
The very idea makes my bones ache with exhaustion. “It’s been hours.”
“These are your memories, Swynwraig,” he says in a serious voice. “And where you go, I go.”
I heave a long, tired sigh. He’s right. And if he’d asked me an hour ago, I would have said yes. The farther we’ve walked, the less certain I am about what I felt back there. It could have been a memory or a dream. Or maybe it was nothing more than illusion, cast upon me by the dead. And after the long trek here—after fighting the rogues, after everything we’ve seen and heard today—all I want is somewhere dry, safe, and warm. Tomorrow is another day to face the horrors of the world. I don’t want any more of them tonight.
“We can always come back later,” I say.
He scowls. “Why does it feel like you’re running from something?”
“Because I’mtiredTaliesin.” I throw up my hands, letting my irritation bleed into my words. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should go back. But whatever that was, itshookme. I just…I need a minute. Better yet, a few hours of sleep. A break before something else comes running at me. There’s only so much I can take.”
He blinks, then holds up the beef. “You should eat this.”
A laugh bursts out of me, and tears of frustration burn my eyes. “Are you serious right now? I say all that, and you tell me toeat?”
“Trust me,” he says, pressing the food into my trembling hands. “This will help. It won’t fix everything, but it’ll help.”
