‘No,’ Jude said. ‘Absolutely not.’
He and Elden stared at each other. The mid-morning light cast bluish shadows across the sparse expanse of winter grass between them. A frozen breeze swept through the lone tree to their left, the shake of the naked branches promising more snow.
‘Don’t think you’d get far across the moors without me,’ Elden said softly. ‘And Jude.’ He squared his shoulders. ‘They’re my memories, too. I’m going.’
His memories?
Maeve’s heart launched into her throat, followed closely by a wave of nausea, as though every second she’d had a headache, had felt like she was treading water over the past few days, had coalesced into something drowning and inescapable. Sweat trickled down her spine as she swayed where she stood.
‘Jude—’ she murmured weakly. ‘Jude, I don’t, I can’t…’
His gaze remained fixed on Elden. ‘I can’t protect you there. I can’t promise you’ll get your memories back. I can’t promise you’ll knowwhyyour memories were taken.’ His voice sounded far away, growing more and more distant. ‘Nothing I do will keep you safe, Elden. Can’t you see why I don’t want you to come?’
Elden’s reply was lost as a wave of blackness stole over Maeve’svision. Her knees buckled. Her last view before the darkness claimed her entirely was of Jude, arms extended to catch her.
Maeve awoke to wind whistling through slatted barn walls, drowning out the echo of her heartbeat in her ears. Her jaw ached like she’d been clenching her teeth for hours. A haziness coated her mind, taking minutes to clear as she stared up at an unfamiliar wooden ceiling. Somewhere to her left, blankets rustled. She rubbed her eyes and carefully sat up. She was lying on a pallet of blankets in a small barn. Nothing about the space was familiar.
The man sleeping beside her, however, was.
She shook him awake. ‘Jude?’ He twitched, burying his face deeper into the pillow. Maeve gently prodded his shoulder. ‘Jude.’
‘Hm?’ He stirred, eyes blinking open wearily. ‘Maeve? Why are you awake?’
She noted the lack of worry in his voice, how he relaxed back onto the pillow, one arm thrown over his head. Distantly, a bell of warning chimed at the back of her skull. ‘Where are we? What happened?’
‘What?’ he murmured, scrubbing an eye.
‘I passed out, didn’t I?’ she asked, voice drawing louder. ‘After Elden arrived this morning.’
Jude’s sleepy, confused expression shifted to one of alarm. He sat up. ‘Passed out? No. Nothing happened. Elden joined us, and we walked here. Caleb fed us a meal; Elden fixed his fence. We went to sleep.’ He leaned closer, gaze roving her face like he was looking for signs of injury. ‘Why? Why do you think you passed out?’
Under her blankets, Maeve pinched her wrist hard. Pain streaked up her arm – proof she was awake. ‘I don’t… I don’t remember. Any of it. Elden arrived, I felt ill, and I – I thought I passed out. Irememberpassing out.’
Jude cleared his throat. ‘You stumbled a bit after Elden joinedus. On a rock, I think. Once you’d steadied though, you were fine.’
Her memory stretched back, searching the gap with a wide-fingered grip. She scoured the edges, looking for anything uneven, anything unusual, finding nothing but an even blackness. She pushed deeper. Pain lanced through her jaw with the effort.
And there, like a trailing hem,something—
It disappeared before she could catch it.
Maeve swallowed, smoothing her hand down her throat to feel the motion. ‘Was I normal?’ she asked. ‘On the walk. To Caleb’s.’ She paused. ‘And whoisCaleb, anyway?’
‘Bethan’s partner. A sheep farmer. Elden thought it would be a good place to spend the night,’ Jude supplied. His voice rose in volume. ‘I didn’t notice anything amiss. If anything, you were more talkative than normal.’
Well. She didn’t like the sound of that one bit. ‘What did I say?’
‘Not much.’ He shrugged. A smile appeared on his lips. ‘Professed your undying love for Elden but nothing besides that.’
She snorted, the sliver of humour enough to diffuse the tension. ‘Oh, nothing else?’
She could tell he was trying to keep the worry out of his voice, but she saw it in his eyes. In the brush of his hand against hers atop the blanket.
He smiled again, quick and sharp before it faded. ‘I wish I had the answers. I wish I knew how to stop the Abbey tampering with our memory without having to return there.’
‘Me too.’ Maeve sighed, weary at the overwrought conversation. ‘Nothing we can do about it tonight. We should try to get some more sleep.’
Gently, she pushed his chest until he toppled back into the pillows. During their conversation, his pillow had somehow made its way to drape halfway over hers. Jude pulled the corner of the blanket back and raised an eyebrow. ‘You’d be warmer if you slept closer.’
