Reeve cleared his throat and got them back on track, none of them moving toward the chairs. “Brae came here intending to use his magewish to kill the Reaper Lord and stop the sacrifice, but what he didn’t know was that, because of the Reaper Lord’s innate power—and how much ellixen has been siphoned over the years to augment that power—in the event of the Reaper Lord’s death, all that magic would explode out in an uncontrollable surge. That surge would be strong enough to pierce the blackmist surrounding Diaboros, allowing a city’s worth of reapers to escape and swarm Aravell.That’swhy you and I had to intercept Brae—because while the Reaper Lord’s death would save the kids and keep the obelisks intact, it would also leave Aravell overrunby reapers who are desperate for fresh sources of ellixen. Children and adults—they won’t discriminate; they’ll siphon from anyone with the smallest lick of magic, killing without prejudice.”
His features were tight as he finished, “None of this is good, but at least now we still have until the comet arrives to stop the Reaper Lord in a way that won’t risk freeing the reapers trapped in Diaboros. It’s not ideal, but it’s the lesser of two evils and our best chance at saving Aravell.”
He trailed off into silence, leaving Viri to stare at him. Then stare at Braedan. Even stare at the Guardian. Everything she’d just learned swirled around her mind, until she came to the only conclusion that would keep her from vomiting all over the shiny stone floor.
“I don’t believe you,” she said hoarsely. Whether or not the Reaper Lord and Diaboros existed, she could look into that later. Sarielle, Meera, Darik…someonewould have to know, and if it turned out to be true, she would act on it—with them. Reeve’s performance was convincing, and much of what he’d said answered questions she’d had for a long time, but she couldn’t simply accept his explanation without confirming it with those she trusted, and that would have to wait.
For now, there was something else she needed to do before she risked losing her chance forever, a mission that had consumed her for the last seven years: to bring vengeance upon the Reaper Priest.
For the first time since he’d killed their parents, Braedan stood mere feet away, and she knew it was a matter of seconds before he decided to fight or flee. She wouldn’t allow either. In all the years she’d been hunting him, she’d always dreamed of catchinghim and throwing him in the Underlock, but she’d also never felt as if that would be enough. Death was out of the question—it was much too easy. She wanted him tosuffer, to feel the same pain that she and his other victims felt, with it torturing him every day for the rest of his miserable life while he wasted away somewhere deep and dark until his final breath. She’d never known how to make that happen before—but now there was an opportunity before her that was too good to resist.
Before anyone could stop her, Viri turned to the Guardian and declared, “I want to make my magewish. I wish for—”
“I’m sorry, Viridia Solace,” he interrupted, his knowledge of her name making her jolt in surprise, “but I can only allow one wish per person, and you’ve already used yours.”
Viri’s brow creased into a frown. “No, I haven’t. It was Reeve who made the wish earlier.”
“I’m not referring to tonight,” the Guardian said, summoning a steaming mug out of thin air with a flick of his fingers. “You used your wish seven years ago.”
Viri’s frown deepened. “What are you talking about? I’ve never even met you before.”
The Guardian sipped his tea, seeming amused. “We’ve met twice, actually,” he said. “Though the first time, you were too young to remember. And the second…” He made a humming sound. “Well, you’ve forgotten because youaskedto forget. That was your wish—and I granted it.”
27
Shock slammed into Viri so hard that she stumbled back a step. Then another. She caught herself just before tripping over a crack in the stone, but still didn’t take her eyes off the Guardian, not understanding what he was saying, yet knowing deep down that he was telling the truth.
She glanced at Reeve, at Braedan, and the looks on their faces—
They knew something. Something that their wide-eyed, pale expressions revealed they didn’t want her to know.
“What did I want to forget?” Viri choked out. “And why?”
“I can show you if you want,” the mage offered, sipping more of his tea, unaware of the roaring in her mind. “That was included in your wish—that if you ever desired to have your memories restored, I would return them to you.” He smiled and leaned in as if sharing a secret. “That was my idea. You were too distraught at the time to care, but I added it, just in case this day came.” He eased back again. “Say the word, and you’ll remember what wasforgotten.”
“Of course I want to—”
“Viri, wait,” Reeve said quickly, panic threading his voice. He closed the distance between them and took her clammy hands in his. “Think about this. If you asked to forget something, then it must have been for a good reason. Maybe you should trust that and just—” His throat bobbed. “Just let this go.”
Viri stared into his eyes, seeing a turbulent storm in their silver depths, but if anything, that made her even more determined to find out what was going on. He was hiding something, and he had been since they’d reunited—she was sure of it. Whatever it was, it went beyond his claims about a Reaper Lord and a hidden city and Braedan’s supposed innocence regarding the Aurora sacrifice. This secret, this thing he didn’t want her to learn, toremember, was something else entirely.
Yanking her hands from his, Viri looked at the Guardian and said, firmly, “I want my memories back.”
“No, Viri—” Braedan started, the first words he’d spoken directly to her, but she cut him off with an inhuman snarl.
“Don’t talk to me,” she spat. “Don’t evenlookat me.”
He recoiled as if she’d struck him, but then straightened his spine and opened his mouth to argue, halting only when Reeve placed a steadying hand on his cloaked shoulder and whispered something into his ear. The fight left Braedan and he nodded stiffly—to Reeve or to Viri, she wasn’t sure—though his face was pinched with worry and his pale blue gaze dropped to the ground, as if he couldn’t bear to watch whatever happened next.
“It’s decided, then,” the Guardian said, gesturing for Viri to follow him over to the green-flamed fireplace. “This may be disorienting—I suggest you take a seat.”
Viri ignored the pleading look Reeve sent her, and ignoredBraedan entirely as she sat on one of the lush velvet armchairs beside the Guardian.
“As I said, this will likely feel strange,” he warned again, his eyes glowing brighter in the light of the magical flames as he set aside his mug and took her hands in his. “It won’t hurt physically, but the mind is a powerful thing, and it will do what it can to protect you—even from yourself. Try to relax. It’ll make this easier.”
That wouldn’t be possible, since Viri was as tense as the stone surrounding them, wondering what might have been so terrible that she’d deliberatelychosento forget it. The Guardian had said she’d used her magewish seven years ago, but there was only one day back then that she would have wanted to forget, and yet, she vividly recalled every tragic moment of it. So whatever this was about, it couldn’t have had anything to do with—
“Ready?” the Guardian asked, interrupting her thoughts.
