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She sat down hard on the edge of the bed, stunned, as the realization hit her. He must have regained his memories. That was why he’d been in no rush to go find a wizard, why he’d been so different, why he’d kissed her. And if he knew her real name and about the baron, then she’d been right that he was here because he was looking for her.
Grabbing her lantern, she stormed out into the hall and banged on his door. “What did you just say?” she shouted. “You remember who you are, and you know who I am, and I want to know how that connects.”
There was no response from inside the room. She tried to open the door, but it had been locked or was blocked. She hadn’t even thought there were locks on these doors. “Gladys?” she called out. “You’d better be on my side in this. Help me out.”
The door flew open, and she found herself staring at Bryn—or whoever he was—who stood just a few feet behind the door. “You owe me an explanation,” she said.
He sighed wearily. “I do. But how did you know?”
“You called me ‘Elwyn.’ I haven’t told you or anyone here my real name. You had to have remembered something, and if you remembered my name, that means you knew about me from before you came here. I also realized that you know the person looking for me is a baron, and I didn’t mention that. Are you working for him?”
He closed his eyes in an expression of pain that was stronger than anything he’d shown when she was treating his wounds. “I was. But it’s more complicated than that. Can we go to the kitchen to discuss it? I need one of your soothing teas.”
Elwyn was somewhat disarmed by his response. She’d been prepared for denial, possibly for his mask to drop completely as he revealed the true villain he was. But he just seemed sad and resigned, possibly ashamed. She hated to agree with him while she was still so angry, but she didn’t think this was a good conversation to have in a place as intimate as his bedroom, and she could use some of that soothing tea, herself. “Yes, let’s go downstairs,” she said, stepping back so he could exit. He may have suggested it, but she didn’t fully trust him not to slam the door and stay in his room once she turned to head down the stairs. She supposed he could flee when he went down the stairs ahead of her, but she didn’t think Gladys would let him leave the house.
The lanterns in the kitchen had already been lit, and a pot of tea was steeping when they entered the kitchen. Bryn waited for her to sit before he sat on the adjacent side of the table, where he wasn’t directly facing her. “How long have you had your memories back?” she asked.
“It happened the night of the festival. When you were working on the Chicken Lady and you couldn’t get the bone to dislodge, there was something in me that said I had to act and that I could do something. I was able to make it move out of her throat, and that seems to have broken the spell.”
“You used magic?”
He hesitated, gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white, before he said, “It turns out that I’m a wizard, though not a very good one, I’m afraid. I was suffering from my own memory spell, and using magic instinctively seems to have broken my spell.”
“Why did you take away your own memories?”
He gave a rueful wince. “I didn’t mean to. As I said, I’m not a very good wizard. In fact, I’m still an apprentice because I’ve never managed to pass any of the exams to be able to leave my apprenticeship. At this point, I’m really just an assistant to my master. There’s no teaching anymore, and I’ve long since passed the end of my official apprenticeship obligation, but without having qualified as a wizard, I can’t get any other kind of job.”
“That’s how you know all about herbs.”
“One thing I am good at is making potions. That’s most of what I do for my master, aside from essentially being his household servant, which is how I know how to cook. I suppose you could say I’m the Gladys of my master’s house. It’s my attempts to do spells that tend to go horribly wrong.”
“What’s your name—your real name?”
“Gareth,” he said, wincing again.
“I definitely think you’re more of a Bryn.”
“My name is about the only thing my parents gave me. They died in a plague outbreak when I was very young, and I was sent to an orphanage, where I caused all kinds of trouble from accidentally using magic, so they sent me for training. Unfortunately, it turned out that training didn’t help much for controlling my talents. I didn’t do as much damage from accidentally using magic once I was trained, but when I tried to use magic I caused even more mayhem when it went awry. Magical training for me was mostly about learning how not to accidentally use magic. Oh, and I have no wife or children. Not that this likely matters anymore.”
Gladys poured mugs of tea and slid them down the table toward them. Bryn—or Gareth?—thanked her, and Elwyn added her own nod of thanks before turning back to Bryn. She couldn’t think of him as Gareth. “This doesn’t explain how you know about me and the baron.”
His expression made him look like she’d kicked him in the gut. He took a long drink of tea before saying, “I’m afraid I’m the one who found you and brought him to you.”
Chapter 16
Elwyn made herself put her cup down before she could give in to the temptation to throw it at Bryn. “You what?” she shouted, rising from her seat and leaning toward him. She remembered worrying that he’d been looking for her, but she’d ignored her own instincts. All this time, she’d been harboring her enemy, even falling in love with him.
“I didn’t know you at the time!” he protested.
“But you worked for him?”
He lowered his gaze, then made a visible effort to meet her eyes. “My master worked for him. Please, let me go back to the beginning and explain.”
She wasn’t sure she could sit and listen to this calmly, but her chair moved against her legs, forcing her to fall back into it. “Do explain,” she said through clenched teeth.
“The baron came to my master, saying he needed help tracking an escaped murderer. He had a scarf that belonged to you. My master did a spell to show where you were. It wasn’t precise. It just led to a general area. To narrow in closer, the spell would have to be repeated within that area, so a wizard had to travel with the baron. My master doesn’t like to travel, so he sent me. But the baron didn’t want to be seen dealing with wizards, so he put armor on me, like I was one of his men.”
“And you led him right to me.”
