Page 39 of A World of Ruins

Anger bubbles up my throat and everyone can see it; they can feel me losing it. I march two steps forward, almost slamming my hand down on the Galgr’s cage. ‘You managed to restore a forgotten memory of mine once. Why can’t you do it again with him?’

She cocks her head in an unnatural way that makes a cracking sound. Another slant of her head to the left, and she eventually answers. ‘Because his soul is slowly breaking.’

‘Then how do we fix it?’ Freya demands.

‘You do not.’ The Galgr’s black tongue darts out, long and oozing a strange substance I never saw the last time. ‘If he is breaking, then he must do so alone.’

That is just absurd. She is lying. She has to be.

I shake my head. ‘No,’ I say. ‘No. There is always a way, and you know there is.’

She moves closer to the edge of her cage. ‘What do I get in return if I am to help you?’

‘Your life,’ I answer. ‘I think getting to live seems fair under these circumstances.’

‘Nara, think about—’ Idris is saying, but Iker presses his hand to Idris’s abdomen and stops him.

The Galgr grins. What I have said must have enticed her. ‘No wonder you were chosen,’ she drawls. ‘All those years of waiting for the fierce trapper to be born, and the result did not disappoint.’

‘Tell. Me.’ I am done with her teasing remarks.

Somehow, her hollowed eyes darken as her expression falls serious and her sigh sounds like the hiss of many snakes at once. ‘A source,’ she says. ‘In order to restore his memories, you must reach the source of what memory is important to him.’

I ponder over her words, not knowing what to make of them. I had tried to get him to remember so many things at once that the idea of trying again seems futile.

‘That’s great!’ Rydan clasps his hands together, grinning at me as I look over my shoulder. ‘We already know it will likely have Nara in it.’

The Galgr hums, amusement seeping through her terrifying tone. ‘But which?’

Rydan’s grin drops almost comically. ‘Well, I was hoping you would tell us that part.’

‘I have said enough,’ she says, angling her head as if to look at me. ‘It is up to her now.’

I slowly shake my head, wanting a better answer,needinga better answer.

But begging is not enough. Dropping to my knees wouldn’t even be enough. The Galgr told me the things she wanted to tell me, and I was too daft to think the outcome would be positive.

Drained and frustrated, I go to turn away when her hand darts out, seizing my wrist tightly. Fingernails dig into my flesh as I gasp out in pain and my head snaps towards the ceiling.

The world around me fades into darkness as an unseen force envelops my senses and images begin to materialise across my vision, emerging from the shadows like apparitions. Faces and fragments play out before me – a blur of colours, each with a detail etched with a haunting clarity as Darius appears. I don’t know where we are, yet there we stand in front of each other. An overwhelming tide of emotions sweeps through me, and it is as if I can feel everything, every painful thought, every bit of sorrow and uncertainty as he pleads with me over and over to kill him with a blade pressed to his heart and my hands wrapped around the hilt.

I can taste the saltiness of my tears, I can hear the crack of my heart, and then, as abruptly as it began, the vision recedes. I desperately try to reach out for Darius, but he becomes a speck in the distance, and soon I’m falling, falling, falling until everything stops.

A dull throbbing ache resonates in the back of my head as I come to, and a blurry vision of Tibith’s bright face appears above me.

‘Miss Freya, she is awake!’

I can barely make out the scuffle of voices as Freya’s curls tickle my cheek, and I scrunch up my face, shielding my eyes.

‘Oh, thank Solaris—’ Freya is saying when the image of the Galgr materialises and I jerk up into a seated position, almost knocking heads with Freya.

‘The Galgr,’ I gasp, my hands violently grabbing at my clothes and legs.

Freya takes hold of my shoulders, leaning over the bed I am on, her wide eyes written with concern. ‘Nara, stop. It’s okay—’

It’s not. It’s not, it’s not.

‘The Galgr – she showed me something.’

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