Page 102 of The Fallen Kingdom

Hurry.

The closet door swings open to reveal the girl.

She looks younger than I thought at first, maybe younger than me. Her long black hair hangs straight past her shoulders to her waist. The strands brush forward as she crouches beneath a row of hanging dresses. The trunk that I keep there is open, and my mother’s tartan is in her hands.

I suck in my breath at the sight. It was destroyed when the pixie city was demolished. The scrap sewed into my jacket is a replica.

The girl lifts the tartan to look at it better. “I pieced it back together from your memories. It’s not quite the same. I don’t believe I got the stitching right.”

I clear my throat and crouch next to her. “You did. It’s perfect.”

“Good,” the girl says softly. “I hadn’t seen such a loving memory like that in so long. It means a great deal to you. I’m glad you’re finally wearing it.”

I swallow hard, the sting of tears in my eyes. “I still don’t know if I’m worthy of it.”I have a ruthless heart. Sorcha was right about that.

“Isthatwhat you think?” The girl looks thoughtful. “I saw your memories. You believe you’re a monster.” Her dark, dark gaze rises to meet mine. Her eyes are as black as the space between constellations. “You don’t look like a monster to me. When I saw your memories, I realized you were different from the others who came for the Book. Aren’t you?”

Another distant rumble. The chandelier in my room sways. Something crashes just outside.

Don’t frighten her. You don’t have time to find her if she runs again.

Be quick.

I take a deep breath to control myself. “Sometimes monsters wear the skin of harmless-looking girls,” I say. And then I think of Lonnrach. “And sometimes handsome men. Maybe I’m no different at all.”

A lift of her lips in an almost smile. “They would have come into this closet and seized me like a prize once they knew what I was. I know you want the words on my skin, of course. I can smell your desperation in the air. And yet you are waiting for my permission while the world caves in.” Her smile is small. “Different.”Different. What a little word. What an important word. Perhaps there’s hope for me not to end up like Sorcha yet.

My laugh is dry, forced. “I know what it’s like to be taken against my will. I just want your help to save my friends.”Help me save them all. Help me end a war.

“My help?”

The house shakes and I have to brace myself against the doorframe or fall. I realize I don’t even know what to call her. “What’s your name?”

“Book of Remembrance,” she says, as if she’s said it every day of her life. A thing. Not a person. A possession.

“You weren’t always a book. You were fae. You were the Morrigan’s consort, weren’t you?”

She jerks back at the reminder, something stricken flashing across her face. “Once,” she breathes. “Before she became so powerful she had no use for a consort. Then I was justmo laòigh.” Her voice is bitter. “Her fawn.”

The Morrigan’s fawn.

The Morrigan’s little bird.

What’s the easiest way to take away a person’s identity and mold them to your will? Deprive them of the simplest thing: their name.

She brushes her fingertips down her arms. “When I wrote the Book on my skin, it became a part of me.” She stares down at the marks on her arms, the squiggles of ink that form the words. “It was alive enough that I’m no longer who I once was. Like any object that has lived on past its time, perhaps I am no longer worthy of a name.” She looks up at me, her eyes wide and dark and vulnerable. “But they used to call me Lena.”

The house shakes again. The stone groans all around me. My heartbeat is frantic in my ears.

Hurry.

“Lena,” I say. She closes her eyes, as if she misses the sound of that. I wonder how long it’s been since she’s heard it. “Can one of your spells truly reverse time?”

“With a few limitations.” I worry about what she’ll say until Lena leans forward with another smile. “I couldn’t reverse the Book’s existence, for one.”

I smile back. “I also need information about the curse on the Cailleach’s lineage. Do you know it?”

The curse that’s caused so much suffering. Countless wars. Siblings killing each other, rather than ending the world. I can put it all back together again if only I can get this girl—this former consort—to help me.

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