That man with the mismatched eyes won’t quit watching me. He’s kind of creepy, to be honest. Ebony tried to convince me I know the guy, Ky something or other. I just shook my head and asked her to leave me alone. Maybe I can’t trust her after all.
Maybe I can’t trust anyone.
I step outside through the cottage’s back door. Dusk is falling over the canyon, but it’ll be hours before the temperature cools off enough for my taste. The house sits on a cliff. And behind it, a rope bridge spans at least a mile-wide gap between two flat-topped hills. Below, a gorge looms, river rushing around the menacing rocks. Mom says it’s Elang Creek Threshold and leads into the Sixth, a quick escape in case she needed one from Isabeau.
Isabeau. Right. I attempt to organize my thoughts, remember the things I seem to have forgotten. But my brain is scrambled eggs, and while some things are easy to recall, others are . . . well . . . not. It’s as if they’re blurred, present but with a sort of film covering them. And don’t get me started on the pieces that have vanished altogether. Tracks scratched off a disregarded CD.
Like, where were we before we found Mom?
She, baby Evan, and a guy by the name of Tide (who I recognize but hardly know . . . I think?) were gagged with hands and feet bound in a hollow space beneath the kitchen floor. Ebony threw her arms around Tide and he hesitated only a moment before embracing her and lifting her off the ground. Joshua claims he arrived only moments before we did, so he didn’t have time to release them. His story seemed valid. He may have deceived me in the past, but he wouldn’t lie about this. What reason would he have?
Last clear memory I can muster, I was in the Fourth, skipping rocks with Ebony at the seashore. And that in and of itself is weird. When did Ebony and I become friends, and why? I know we’re on good terms now, but the context is warbled. Then there’s the girl, the one Joshua saved with his Ever blood. Where did she come from, and who does she belong to? She looks at me a lot, too, though it doesn’t bother me as much as the creeper’s.
Ugh. I kick a stone and it slides across the red dirt, over the cliff’s edge, and into the gorge. The water is so far down, the rush of the wide river pronounced enough, I don’t hear a splash. The stone goes over and then . . . nothing. Kinda like these memories I can’t quite place.
Someone squeezes my shoulders. I jump, but then they squeeze harder. Sigh. I reach back and pat the top of Mom’s hand. Her, at least, I remember. With a signature kiss to my temple, she asks, “How are you feeling, brave girl?”
I scratch my head. Because that’s what you do when you’re . . . “Confused.”
She comes around to face me. The calm in her voice doesn’t match the panic in her eyes. She glances past me, then back, past me, then back again.
“Mom, what is it?” What’s she looking at? I want to look over my shoulder, but the slant of her lips warns against it.
Tight hug. Can’t breathe. Her mouth finds my ear. “Listen, we don’t have much time before he retrieves me.” She pulls away. Smiles too sweetly. Kisses my forehead.
Retrieves her? Why do I get the feeling she’s overdoing the affection as some kind of act?
“Joshua cannot be trusted,” she says through pursed lips. “Something has disturbed him. I am unsure what, but he trapped me, your brother, and the boy Tide.”
Dread churns. Spider-walks my nerves. “Where’s Evan?”
She pulls me close again. “Joshua has him. It is why I cannot say more. Regina has gone to fetch Makai. She was outside when Joshua arrived and was able to slip away unseen. I have no idea how long it will take them to return.”
The mention of Reggie injects a dose of hope. My favorite cook in all the Reflections was here? Maybe my memory isn’t so poor after all. I know Mom and Evan, who the first time I held him smiled straight at me as if we’d been best buds forever. Makai and Reggie are on their way, both of whom I recall to a tee. Maybe they’ll bring Stormy. Crowe, I wouldn’t even mind if Preacher tagged along. How horrible can things be as long as I recognize those closest to me?
“Just remember,” Mom whispers in my ear. “Be chary about those in whom you place your confidence. Joshua threatened to hurt your brother if I tell you too much. I am reluctant to put anything past him at this point in time. He carries a madness I recognize all too well.”
Madness. A pinprick in my brain. Someone mentioned something about madness. And Jasyn Crowe. The memory feels recent. I’m in a room. Ebony is there, and the leader of the Fourth . . . ? But the rest is hazy at best. Why can’t I remember?
“Mom, what doesn’t Joshua want you to tell me?” The words are a runaway subway. Urgent. Ahead of schedule.
She lists her head. Once again her gaze falls to the door behind me. “Kyaphus. Do you remember anything about him at all?”
The guy with the Void? “I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
Her mouth turns down. “Promise me this: if he attempts to speak with you, if he finds the chance, listen.”
I nod. Anything for Mom. Always.
After one last kiss to my cheek, she shuffles back toward the house. “Supper will be on soon. We will wait for Dahlia’s return together.”
My ears perk. Dahlia Moon? Of course, that’s why I came, right? To find the Ever woman with answers regarding the Void and the Verity. I don’t know how I know that, and the source of the information is once again a fog. Still, it’s another memory restored. Yay, me.
“How do you know her?” I ask before Mom enters the house. “Has she been caring for you? Did she help deliver Evan?”
Mom does a half turn, a genuine smile perking the corners of her lips. The panic melts from her complexion, replaced by a secretive look I know all too well. “Dahlia comes and goes. Sometimes she is here, sometimes there. Evers get antsy, you know? They never remain in one place too long because they are around for so long. But yes, once you left the Second, she arrived to care for your brother and me.”
What does my leaving have to do with anything? “How do you know her?”
“You know her too. She goes by an alias to keep her Calling hidden, as many Evers do. She bears many names, in fact. I believe her favorite is the nickname you bestowed, though. Your ‘Fairy godmother’ is quite fond of you, my darling.” Mom slips inside without another word, leaving me more confused than before.
The one I bestowed? What—?
I shake my head. There’s only one person I’ve nicknamed. One person who has said those exact words verbatim. Which means Dahlia Moon is none other than the sometimes crazy, always bubbly, Fairy godmother incarnate Regina a.k.a. Reggie Reeves.