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“Not disgusting. Hurting. I couldn’t bear it. That was… that was when I realised you were more than a job to me. A lot more.”
Hawthorn squeezed her fingers, and looked like he was about to say something, only another vision cut between them.
A woman running.
For a second, Juliana thought it was herself. The woman had hair almost the exact same shade as hers, fashioned in an almost identical braid. They had the same weather-tanned skin, similar features, a steeliness to their expressions.
But it wasn’t her. It was like someone was painting her from memory.
“Cerridwen!” Markham’s voice called. “Come back! Let’s talk about this!”
Mother.
Cerridwen wheeled around, leaves blazing around her. Juliana tried to place where they were—only to realise they were here. They were somewhere just outside the valley, toeing the edge of the cliff face. “Ihavebeen talking, Markham! You are not listening—”
“Just give it some more time—”
“How much longer, Markham? Long enough that she grows to love this place? That it becomes her world? That she hates us for taking her from it?She isn’t safe here.No mortal is.”
“But you love Faerie, Cerridwen.”
“I did,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I do. I think I always will. But I miss home, Markham. The missing is scraping away at me, more and more… and I can feel Ladrien’s presence here.”
“We will find a way out of the curse.”
“And if we can’t?” Cerridwen’s eyes blazed.
“You swore an oath. You’re aknight.You have the queen’s favour—”
“The Queen has given me her blessing.”
Markham paused. “What?”
“She knows. She knows what it’s like to love someone more than anything in the world, to forsake any and all things to want to keep them safe… there’s nothing,nothingI will not do to protect my daughter. No monster I will not fight, no limit to the evils I will commit. I would sell my heart to Ladrien itself to keep her safe. I would prefer not to. Socome with me.We’ll go back to the palace and pick her up.”
“No,” Markham said, shaking his head as if the world was crumbling around him. “No, no, you cannot mean that. This is ourlife.We aren’t mortal enough to survive out there, not anymore. We made vows, we made vows—”
“To each other!” Cerridwen insisted. “Toher.”
“I can’t leave,” he murmured, “youcan’t leave.”
Cerridwen’s expression turned dark. “I’m leaving with or without you. But I’m taking her.”
“No,” Markham mumbled, his words desperate, “No!”
He drew his sword, as if his own wife were something to be vanquished.
And Cerridwen did what most people would do when presented with a blade, particularly when they had no wish to harm the person wielding it.
She moved backwards.
Straight over the edge of the cliff.
Juliana screamed.
Hawthorn yanked her into his arms, trying to whisper something of comfort, but his words never reached her. She pulled against him, fighting.
This was not her memory. She’d been safely back at the palace. It couldn’t be Hawthorn’s, either.
