“Then make that world.” Morick shrugged.
“Don’t make us leave without you,” Morick said. “You know your father will be looking for you.”
I’d seen my friends off.
I turn to find Jaik with his knife to my throat.
“To what do I owe this dubious pleasure, brother?”
“You’ve sunk to some new criminal lows even for you,” Jaik told me.
“You see them as lows. I see them as highs. Either way, it’s certainly keeping life exciting.”
“Honor is in King Pend’s dungeon right now,” he snapped. “So if you ever had a brilliant idea for how to rescue Alis, and you weren’t just pretending that you could help, you’d better help now. Because Lucien is sentenced to hang tomorrow.”
I stared at him in amazement. “You finally figured it out. I never thought you’d wake up from Pend’s spell.”
It was Teris who had set the spell, but he was always working at Penn’s behest.
He looked at me as if he had something sharp to say, then put the heel of his hand against his temple.
“Headache?” I asked. “You always give me a headache, too. It must be mutual.”
“Strangely enough, it’s not you,” he growled. “I think I am having flashes of Honor’s thoughts, Honor’s memories. Ever since I marked her… sometimes I get the oddest thoughts and feelings that don’t seem like my own.”
The thought of the bond between them made me feel an ache. They could communicate telepathically, just as all the royals could; they could show each other what they were thinking, seeing, feeling. Even for idiots like my old friends, it had to be easier in a relationship to show someone exactly what you saw or felt. They might have a fighting chance at a healthy relationship.
And I’d never have a bond like that with her. I’d never know her in quite the same way.
But if it helped Honor stay alive, that was all that mattered.
“I’ve been seeing the inside of a cell. She’s masquerading as Lucien for some reason.”
“Must be that special bond between dragon man and dragon lady.”
“Do you think that you could pause on being glib until we’ve kept our girl from being executed?”
The fact that Jaik had called her our girl, when I always said that to bug him, was surprisingly touching.
He was a prick, but if he was a prick who loved her as much as I did, I might be able to tolerate him.
“I’m here,” I said. “I’ll do anything I can.”
I turned to see my friends sailing away. I hoped they would never come back even at the same time as I wished desperately to see them again.
I needed them. But I also needed them safe and happy. If I couldn’t be those things, it would mean a lot to me to know my friends were.
Jaik pressed his hand to his head again.
“What is it? What are you seeing?” I asked, trying to swallow the jealousy I felt.
“As Honor gets her memories back, it’s almost like she’s forcing some of mine to return too. I see something, I can’t make sense of it, and it triggers my own memory.”
“You’ve lost memories?” I asked.
“Yes, I think I forgot something from when we were children. No, that’s not right. It’s not that I forgot. Someone took those memories from me.”
“Teris,” I said.
He nodded.
“Well, with our childhood, maybe it was a good thing to forget.”
But we both knew it wasn’t that simple. The past is with us no matter how much we try to deny it.
I thought that was the last Jaik would say about it, but then he added abruptly, “I remember us running.”
“We ran a lot when we were young. We weren’t that handy with swords yet and we were a whole lot smaller than the average Scourge.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not like that. We were running with Mother.”
Mother. Funny how that one word hit me so hard.
For a second I could barely breathe.
“Sometimes I think I don’t remember that much of Mother anymore,” I admitted, then regretted saying those words out loud.
He looked troubled. “Maybe you should be glad you don’t have this memory.”
“Yes, lucky me, no idea about something that happened that sounds pretty fucking important. I don’t think there’s ever any reason to be thankful for ignorance.”
Jaik had a faraway look on his face. “I don’t know, Cal. It was bad.”
He hadn’t called me Cal for about ten years.
His face clouded, his brows collapsing inward as if he were remembering something from when he was a child and his face would still fall to pieces when he cried, before my brother learned to be a stoic hardass all the time.
“I think I hurt…” He shook his head, stopping himself from saying the words.
“What?” I demanded. “You think you hurt yourself? Hurt who?”
He shook his head and refused to go on. “Right now we have to get Honor. Will you help?”
“You know I will,” I said, then, just to live down to his expectations, I added, “Any chance to show off.”
Chapter
Fifty-Eight
Honor
Alis cut through my nightmares, shaking me awake. “Crying in your sleep again?”
I stared at her, barely registering this cell. For a few long moments, I’d been back in that cell as a child.
Then the memories that had begun to surface were drifting away again. The lights in the hall outside the cells were low, and the faintest trickle of light came into the bleak cell. Her eyes looked deep and empty in the darkness.
“How did you pretend to be Lucien Finn?” she asked. “How is it possible those ridiculous men didn’t see through your disguise?”
I shrugged.
“I’ve heard the Elders hoard spells like treasures,” she said, studying me with greed written across her face. “You can change your face. What else did they teach you?”
My laugh came out creaky. “The Elders weren’t exactly eager to teach me anything.”
I shredded a piece of straw absently. Damyn had been the one to work that first spell for my face. He’d been on my side, even if I hadn’t always appreciated how. We had different ideas of what that meant.
I kept wondering if my men would come for me, or if I’d die as Lucien Finn.
She rested her hand gently on my knee. “All right, I’ll make a deal with you, Honor. I’ll tell you who your father was once you get me out of here. In the meantime, you tell me how that spell works, and I’ll tell you about your birth. Because when I finally escape here, I’m going to have to become someone else. Pend would never stop searching for either of us.”
I didn’t trust her. She’d forced herself into my mother’s house, taken her place, murdered my father. I didn’t want to give her any more tools to use to deceive.
A sly smile touched her lips. “I already told you my terms. I asked your adoptive father why he named you Honor. But he wouldn’t tell me. I’m sure it’s ridiculous.”
“Do you know what spells my father did to hide my memories? Do you have any ideas?”