A numbing haze filled Kaelyn, as if the fog in her memory became physical and wrapped about her. Everything dulled: thoughts, emotions, sensations, even the passage of time. On behalf of everyone, Mac accepted the Oracle’s offer to spend the winter in the sanctuary and they were assigned individual rooms. Kaelyn slept and ate and answered any question asked directly of her, but nothing more. The sun rose and set day after day, but it could have been the same day. The day after. Over and over again. All she wanted was to be alone. But Jillyn wouldn’t let her hide in bed. So, every morning Kaelyn rose, dressed, and escaped her nagging admonishments, spending the rest of the day hiding in the sanctuary’s maze of rooms and halls.
When all of her hiding spots had been discovered, she bundled up, braving the cold and walked for hours through the woods, following a narrow, nearby river, or winding, snow-packed paths, or nothing at all.
On these outside excursions she would take her sword, claiming she was practicing, but she never did. Never wanted to.
Every so often, she thought about how difficult it must be for her friends. After all, she’d brought them here, and now she was avoiding them. But she couldn’t bring herself to contemplate something other than the deep, encompassing nothing within her. A part of her was surprised at her reaction. She’d been so unaware of how important restoring her memory was. And no matter how many times she told herself it didn’t matter or that there were other solutions to try she couldn’t seem to shake the lethargy.
Then spring arrived.
Or at least she was told it had. She hadn’t registered on a change of temperature, or an awakening of the forest: flora or fauna. Wyndham trapped her in a dim hall before she could escape outside. He told her the thaw was coming and he needed to return to Mythnar.
She stared at him, letting her gaze wander to his feet and up to his pleading eyes.
He grabbed her hands and placed them on his chest, warm under his own. The warmth traveled along each finger, across her palms, through her wrists and along her forearms only to be frozen at her elbows. She didn’t want to be warm. She didn’t deserve to be warm. The chill of disappointment had hardened to ice and wouldn’t be broken with a stolen moment in a dim hall.
“Come with me,” he said. “Mac says he’s going to retire to Quinlay.”
She had no answer for him, nor when his request became strained and pleading.
He bit his lip and released her to the cold winter paths in the forest.
Again, the next day he found her. And the day after that. It seemed to Kaelyn that they had been dancing that dance for as long as they had known each other. Each day melted into the other until being captured and released like a butterfly was a part of her routine, and had always been.
They left the cult on a grey, unremarkable day. Not once had Kaelyn answered Wyndham’s question. She hadn’t even decided whether or not to go, she merely did. Their trip across the north was uneventful. Perhaps there had been an event, but she hadn’t noticed. The difficulties that had plagued their travels north didn’t appear on their return trip. There were no bandit attacks or clansmen trials, nor did she run away, although she yearned for escape. She knew that, in truth, there was no escape, ever. Wherever she went, the fog would still be with her. She would be just as miserable there as here.
She was barely aware of the development of a plan for her life, even though she agreed to everything suggested and all the arguments behind it. She had to renounce her family for the time being, and live in Quinlay with Mac until they could find a better course of action. That was fine. If that bandit at May-Garth’s had really been her brother then her family didn’t want her. They certainly wouldn’t want a broken daughter. To complete the plan, Mac and Wyndham would say that they couldn’t find her, but had heard rumors that she’d died in the mountains of snow fever. The last of her old life would be over and she could start new again. But as what? As who? And why didn’t she care?
As they neared the pass of Gentle Crossing, Talar left to stay in an old hunter’s hut, not wanting to return to Mythnar, taking a little something of her with him. It was tiny, almost imperceptible. Perhaps just the memories that she’d made of him, but she couldn’t be certain through all the ice and fog. Only that her emptiness grew more as they continued without him.
They slipped into Mythnar just as the gates were closing for the night at the end of her fifth month. From there, Jillyn, Gerid, and Aric took their leave, peeling away more from Kaelyn. They promised to say a proper goodbye before she, Mac, Talar, and Bledig left the city, but she didn’t really believe them. They had joined her on her quest and she’d failed them as much as she’d failed herself.
#
It was the next day . . . or the day after. Kaelyn couldn’t tell. All she knew was that she had to find her tears. Surely if she cried, she’d feel better. She sat on her bed and hugged herself, sniffing and squeezing her eyes shut, but she couldn’t break through the ice. She should be upset, angry, burning, anything by now. The shock everyone claimed she felt should have passed so she could get onto real emotions. Please. Just one tear. Anything would be better than nothing.
Laughter cut through the silence, slipping past the walls and door of the suite in the small Mythnar Inn where Mac had situated them.
From Mythnar to the north and back, and she had nothing to show for it. Her stomach roiled at the thought. She supposed she did have something from it, the clansmen thought her some kind of avatar of their Goddess. Which she wasn’t. She was just an unfortunate accident. And if she’d had her memory, she would never have made the mistake of letting anyone know. Surely she was better at hiding her nature when she knew herself.
The door swung open and Mac and Wyndham burst into the room–the source of the laughter.
Kaelyn scrambled for the book on the night table, trying not to look caught wallowing. They’d just admonish her for that. And rightly so. It had been long enough. Heck, even she was getting tired of it.
The men paid her no heed. They sunk into the only two chairs in the small sitting area and sucked air, catching their breaths.
“I still don’t understand why you two won’t stay in the keep,” said Wyndham, tossing a glance at Kaelyn.
The door to her room framed the two of them. For all their lack of similar appearance, their shared sense of mischief could have made them father and son.
“Because,” said Mac. “We just told your noble mother and everyone at court that Kaelyn is dead.”
“So you went ahead with the plan?” asked Kaelyn dropping her gaze to her book. It bothered her more that they were ignoring her than her lack of emotion over her situation. At least she was feeling something.
“Yes,” said Mac. “I’ll take care of my court duties in the next couple of days and then we’ll head out for Quinlay.”
She nodded and turned the page even though she hadn’t read anything yet.
Mac had some groveling to do with Their Majesties, and probably a small mountain of paper work to get through to get his property back, but he’d assured her that wouldn’t take long. Then the four of them: her, Mac, Talar and Bledig would go south, and warm up. Perhaps then she’d find her tears.
“Well, I really should go,” said Wyndham.
Mac made no audible response and she wasn’t going to look up to see if he’d nodded.
“You really should convince Kaelyn to come by and put all the cock-sure knights to shame,” said Wyndham.
Again, no audible answer.
“Come on, Kaelyn. Say you will.”
“Then I wouldn’t really be dead any more, would I?” She struggled to keep her gaze on the book.
“I suspect there would be very few people who’d recognize you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She let the unattended book fall to her lap.
Wyndham shrugged.
“Well?” The ice within her cracked and heat boiled in her chest.
“You don’t look the same, that’s all.”
He said it so cavalierly, so off-the-cuff. She didn’t know if it was good, or bad, or if she even cared.
“Anyway. I doubt anyone would believe that a young woman of status would be able to wipe the jousting yard with all of the Queen’s knights.”
The heat billowed and she ground her teeth. “What is this need with you men to show me off?”
“It’s not that–” said Wyndham.
“Maybe I should just join the circus and save everyone some trouble.”
“Just think about all the women in this kingdom you can inspire.”
“To do what? Become just as useless as the rest of the royal army? We have no need for soldiers. We’re about to sign a peace treaty with the clansmen.”
“I’m not talking about turning them into fighters. I’m talking about craftsmen, merchants, owners of property.”
She couldn’t believe what he was saying. “You’re talking about revolution.”
“It’s already started. Mother set it in motion by not making Gregor King and keeping the crown. But she needs others to follow, to stand up to the barons and the merchant barons.”
“That she has and does,” said Mac, but Kaelyn couldn’t tell if he agreed or disagreed with the argument.
“A very pretty speech. But I am not your woman.”
“You were before.” Wyndham’s voice was soft. He held her gaze, those blue blue eyes revealing a soul wounded by her words.
She looked away first, escaping from his hurt to the cracked ice within her.
“The clansmen are due to arrive tomorrow. I suspect the treaty will be signed a day or so after that.” Wyndham cleared his throat. “I’m sure Mother will expect you to be there, Mac.”
“She’s already said so.”
“Well then–” He hesitated and Kaelyn was sure he was looking at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to face him.
“Goodbye.”
The door clicked, opened and closed. She snuck a glance to see if he was still there, but only Mac remained. Standing, he walked to the door, dropped the latch, and made sure it was secure. He blew out the candles in the sitting room, one by one, until only a tiny flame remained. It flickered in a small, misshapen jar on the table. He leaned over to blow it out but seemed to change his mind as he stared into the flame, and instead, sat in the chair by the table.
She knew he was aware of her, sitting in bed, book forgotten in her lap. From her vantage, she could only see his profile. In the dim, shifting light of the solitary candle he seemed exhausted, more tired than she’d ever seen him. Even more tired than when they’d first met. Perhaps it was because she’d become used to his weathered features, or perhaps it was merely the play of candlelight that changed her perception.
He sat motionless for a long time until she feared he might be asleep. Then the candle flickered, struggling to remain alive and succumbed, drowning in its wax. Darkness engulfed the room and after a heartbeat, the chair groaned and Mac’s footsteps retreated into his room.
Kaelyn didn’t move. She should get up, close her door, and crawl under her covers, allowing herself to escape into undemanding sleep. But she couldn’t convince her mind to turn her body to the activity. All she could think of, over and over again, were Wyndham’s last words: you were before.
She had been a lot of things, before.
#
She dreamed of adventure in a distant land that was bathed in light and heat, and woke with the urge to escape, run away, and free herself from herself. She was certain that during her dream she’d discovered the answers to everything, but it was lost in the fog within her mind.
The door opened and Mac entered. The rich amber of late afternoon sun cut through the shutters on the window. “Well, the clansmen arrived this morning.” He glanced around. “Where’s Bledig?”
Kaelyn shrugged. She hadn’t thought she’d slept all night and most of the day, but apparently she had.
“I suspect he got tired of watching you mope.”
Kaelyn bit her lip. It was probably true.
“Talar is joining us tonight,” said Mac. “I thought we’d go out after the court dinner.”
Her heart skipped a beat. But Talar, like everyone else, probably didn’t want to see her. “I shouldn’t go out, remember?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to come.”
Her eyes burned, and she reached for her book on the night table.
“They’re negotiating the final details of the treaty. I suspect it will be signed tomorrow.”
Which would mean tonight was Wyndham’s last night before he’d be heading north with the clansmen to seal the deal. She might never see him again. Had there ever been anything between them? If she never recovered her memories she’d never know.
Her gut churned. This could be her last chance to learn at least a little something about herself, even if it was second-hand from Wyndham. He, of all the people she’d met so far, at least knew who she was before she’d lost her memory. She couldn’t let him leave without talking to him. She had to know, had to talk to Wyndham alone so he could be honest. Given their last conversation, she doubted he’d come if she asked Mac to bring him to the inn. Which meant she’d have to go to him.
“Will Wyndham be joining you and Talar?” she asked.
If Mac noticed her sudden interest, he didn’t show it.
“No.” He ran a hand over his shaven head. “His mother has strictly forbid him to leave the keep. He will dine with the clansmen and his bride-to-be, and then retire, under guard, for the evening.”
Which meant if she caught him in his room, she’d have plenty of time to talk.
“The irony,” said Mac, “is that Gerid and I were trying to get everyone together, and it’s Aric on young rogue prince duty.”
“When will you be going out?”
Mac shrugged. “In an hour or so.”
She nodded and turned the page in her book. It took all of her will to sit there and ignore him. If he suspected she was coming around, he’d force her to go out that evening and she certainly couldn’t refuse by telling him she wanted to sneak into the keep.
Bledig returned and he and Mac left at sunset. Kaelyn leapt from her bed and changed into her darkest pair of pants and shirt. She pulled her hair into a tight, thick braid, strapped on her sword belt, making sure her sheath was secure, and took a moment to examine herself in the small, polished-metal mirror in Mac and Bledig’s room.
Wyndham might have been right when he’d said she’d changed. She was still the small girl with the limp brown hair, but her features seemed hardened now. She still felt like the same person who had stared at her reflection in that window in Norwell, and yet she knew she wasn’t. Too much had happened. If she even found a way to get her memory back, she wouldn’t be the same person she was before.
#
It was too easy, entering the keep, avoiding the guards, and finding Wyndham’s chambers. But then, perhaps that was just one of her abilities. Why stop at sword fighting? Why not be a woman who danced with a Prince as well as knew how to sneak into a castle without drawing attention?
It only took a smile to a young page to get directions to Wyndham’s room on the second floor and she slipped inside before anyone could catch her. The room was a simple accommodation without an attached sitting room, furnished with a large bed, a writing desk, and two overstuffed chairs. An open window mostly covered by ivy let in what little breeze there was, but for the most part it seemed even nature held its breath for her.
She considered the chairs for a moment, but if someone escorted Wyndham in they’d likely kick her out the moment they saw her. Which meant she needed to be hidden until she was certain they were alone.
She walked over to the window and glanced out. The ledge seemed wide enough to stand on and the ivy was thick. It could support her if she needed to hang on. She could close the single shutter, leaving just a crack, and she’d still be able to see in. It wasn’t perfect. The thought of waiting for Wyndham, sitting precariously on a ledge, didn’t have a lot of appeal. But the thought of never talking to him again held even less.
Voices in the hall drew close to Wyndham’s door. She slipped onto the ledge and pulled the shutter closed as the latch clicked and the door opened. It was the evening servants–two women by their voices–who’d come to light the night candles and turn down the prince’s bed. She ignored their banter as they went about their work. If the servants were preparing the room then surely Wyndham wouldn’t be far behind.
The women left and Kaelyn shifted into a more comfortable position and closed her eyes. Her mind drifted from thought to thought but she refused to focus on any of them. She’d have answers soon enough. She could be patient. Damn it, she would be patient.
And then she heard him in the hall.
His voice made her heart contract. She hadn’t expected him so soon. But when she glanced through the crack between the wall and shutter the candle on the table by the bed was a stub surrounded by melted wax. She must have fallen asleep.
He dismissed whoever had escorted him up and the light through the shutter’s crack dimmed until she suspected only the one candle by the bed remained lit.
Now was her chance.
