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“Oh really?”
He steps closer with one hand raised then drops it. “Faery makes it hard for humans to remember their world once they are here for a while.”
He stares at me, hard.
Knowledge settles around my neck like a chain. Oh God. Oh no. My hand clamps over my mouth.
“Wren, you won’t forget. I won’t let you.” He grabs my bare upper arm. His touch is warm and comforting, an anchor keeping me on my feet. “It’s not quick. It can take years, and your uncle has been here for several of them and a fae for much of that time.”
Years. I suck in a deep breath.It can take years.
“Your uncle… I’ll let him explain. But I won’t let you forget, not if you don’t want to.”
“He truly didn’t remember me.” I gape.
Sigurd’s thumb rubs across my skin. “He does now. Memories outside of Faery drift away. They slide into a deep pool within the mind, but your presence surfaced them for him. Would you speak with him?”
“I…” I blink at him, at this man, this king trying to explain things that barely make sense. He may have bound me here, but he’s been kind since. “Okay.”
His fingertips trail down my arm, raising shivers in their wake until he takes my hand and raises it to his lips. The way they press against the back of my hand steals my breath.
“If you need me…” His gaze holds mine, holding more words than I can possibly make out.
So many thoughts race through my head, but none of them form on my tongue before he leaves me standing there, gaping at his retreating form.
Moments later, another familiar face fills the doorway.
“Wren.” Mark’s voice wipes away all the wonder of moments before.
The cold I expected this morning finally rushes in to wrap around me.
“Uncle Mark.” I don’t keep the edge from my voice. My eagle friend hops back onto the balcony, not a foot from my leg, as if it’s there to offer me support.Thanks, little buddy.
Mark rubs the back of his neck and glances toward the door he shut behind him.
I raise my brows. Preparing to run? That’d be fitting.
“I have grandkids?” he finally says.
So that did get his attention. “Four of them, actually. All Tabitha’s. She’s married, you know. Matt walked her down the aisle since you weren’t there.”
He winces, and his eyes turn glassy. “They’re okay, Matt and Tabitha?”
My traitorous heart twists.
“Peachy. Matt is still in the military, stationed overseas but coming home soon. Tabitha loves being a mother, or so she says. Her husband travels for work a lot, so she’s got her hands full. She married Robbie. Maybe you remember him? Or you will?” They’d been together since freshman year of high school, before Uncle Mark left.
He nods. His throat bobs. He wants to ask about Gran. I can see it written all over his face in his darting gaze and the way the toe of his shoe taps on the floor. But he’s scared. He ought to be.
“I still live with Gran.”Thanks for asking.
His eyes snap to me and hold. “She’s…”
“Alive? Was when I left, though my disappearance may have given her a heart attack.” Just the thought sends me pacing across the floor.
“King Sigurd said you were being chased?”
The hint of reverence in his voice causes a humorless laugh to slip from me. The eagle gives a squawk.
