Page 91 of My Faire Lady

The head tilts and peers around me, and its eyes crinkle at the edges. The hydra, larger than any of the other creatures I’ve seen here, steps around me and presses one of its heads against Frankie’s chest.

“I’ve missed you, too.” She rubs her fingers over its scales. “We need your help.”

The hydra closes its eyes, as if they’re exchanging a silent conversation, and moments later, they open, settling on me.

“She said she’ll help you,” Frankie whispers.

And only now, as a ray of light pierces through a slight opening in the roof of the cavern, do I notice the tears welling in Frankie’s eyes. Catching me looking, she turns and wipes them away.

I swallow. “Frankie⁠—”

She shakes her head and wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. “Don’t you dare say goodbye. I’m so glad I had the chance to know you, Lottie.” Unraveling herself, she holds me at arm’s length. “What do you want me to tell Scarlet?”

I gnaw on my lip. There should be something significant I want to pass along, whether it be words of love or comfort or a plea of understanding. But the ache in my chest is so wide, so consuming, that I can’t come up with anything that wouldn’t hurt. That wouldn’t break her.

It’s like my shoes are waterlogged, and I fear the longer I stand still, stay here, I risk drowning.

“Just tell her I said goodbye.”

Frankie’s eyes hold mine for a moment that bleeds into eternity. She nods and drops her arms. “I’ll let her know.”

She steps away, and I study her—press her face into my memory. But as I commit her kind eyes to my mind, dread coats me like syrup, clogging my lungs.

I won’t remember her.

The hydra swings a head to me, bowing down the way Shadow did after she let me ride her. My heart twists. Another memory I’ll have taken.

I plant my palm on her head, the edges of her scales pressing into my skin.

Static takes over my vision, and the cavern disappears, replaced with a faded film reel. They’re snapshots—some events that happened over the last few weeks and others that never occurred—taken from blurred dreams and hazy daydreams.

Scarlet stars in each one.

It won’t hurt, a voice echoes into my head.

I can’t see the hydra, but something integral, deep inside, registers her presence. The film reel stretches out into a tangled braid of events, each one so small they’re nearly indistinguishable.

Yet, if I focus hard enough, I can make them out, as if I’m holding them under a clouded magnifying glass.

The first day I met her, when I tripped over the root and spilled my mead. Me, pacing in the kitchen as I called her and asked for the job. The Lottie’s sign hanging over the shoppe with snapdragons painted up its side. The first time I made her smile—really smile.

It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

The weeks blur. Her teaching me to shoot an arrow. The kiss in the jousting field, saving me from the werewolf, the look on her face at the surprise party. Winning the contest. Finally, finally kissing her.

Her hands on me, twining our souls together.

Her, breaking my heart.

One by one, the memories are parsed from my mind, and I reach for them, grappling, but they’re like sand slipping between my fingers. Like thread falling from the needle mid-stitch. It’s like I walked into a room for something, but the moment I cross the threshold, I’ve forgotten why I was there.

The summer shifts, and the shoppe isn’t mine. Faces fade.

I reach out, into nothing.

Her figure blurs at the edges, a shadow.

What was her name? Jade? Ruby?