Page 138 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
“In part.” He runs a hand through his long hair but doesn’t meet my eyes. “I am telling you this now so you know it is not a burden solely on your shoulders, but all six of us. When yourmemories return, you will understand. Until then, I ask that you trust me.”
“Always,” I reply on instinct.
But the words feel foreign. And I don’t feel any better. The intensifying, squeezing, and dizzying sense of mortification only grows. “I should be dependable, lethal, loyal, and adaptable. I should blend into society’s vital surface and never?—”
“Reveal your true nature?” Legion finishes, eyebrow arched. “How many times have you told yourself that? Those aren’t your words.”
“Whose are they?”
He tells me his theory about the enchantment being an amalgamation of fears designed to separate us. I realize how much I’ve come to rely on his strategic mind—even when he also suffered under this affliction. Memories or not, we each bring something unique to our hive. I can't do everything alone. He trusts me to protect, even knowing our past. The thought both comforts and unnerves me.
But if he doesn’t blame me for our Seventh’s death . . . then perhaps I must trust him too.
“Titania wants us divided,” Legion continues, “because then we can not host the Wild Hunt. It cannot grow in power and size. She cannot control it. Not like Willow.”
“So then we glue ourselves back together,” I suggest.
“Agreed.”
Something uneasy, along with the sickening feeling of failure, turns in my mind. “Titania and Willow are both tied to us, but only one can control the Wild Hunt. The other has all the power. What happens if they face each other in the flesh?”
Concerned eyes flick to mine. “They will feel the uncontrollable urge to obliterate each other until one is left standing.”
“Then we must kill Titania.”
Legion folds a letter, swiping his fingers along the crease. “I expect Puck will soon take that responsibility from our hands.” His lips purse. “At least he’ll try.”
“And if she survives?”
His eyes meet mine. “Then I hope by that stage, we have our hive back in one piece.”
“Tell me one more thing about Canary, and then I will put it to rest.”
A nod. “You will never put it to rest, but I pray you will learn to forgive yourself—as we have.”
“Was it before we received—” I gesture to the glowing blue mark beneath my eye. The teardrop shape is fitting, considering it is the source of our sense of shame.
“Yes,” Legion replies, swallowing hard. Something about the memory brings a sheen to his eyes that I rarely see.
Styxflickersinto the room. We stand, our chairs scraping against the ground.
“Where have you been?” I growl. The scent of guilt rolls off him in waves.
“Is she back at the keep?” Legion demands.
Styx doesn’t seem to hear us. He paces the small space within the tent, hands running through his dark, unruly hair, and his eyes are wild.
“I don’t know what to do,” he mumbles.
A cold feeling of dread wraps around me. He hasn’t answered the question.
“Where is Willow?” I repeat.
He stops, his eyes locking with mine. The chaos I see there makes my soul cringe. Flashes of bloody golden feathers hit behind my eyes, ratcheting up my panic. If I could kill my own brother . . . it’s entirely possible Styx could kill his mate, right?
It’s an incredible leap, but my current state of mind can take me nowhere else.
I don’t voice my fears. There’s no time. Styx starts muttering about Emrys, memories, and feeling bad that he left Willow in the snow. With every word, Legion’s expression grows darker. Styx says he returned but found Emrys trapped in a tunnel after escaping with Willow from a stable full of Nightmares Puck ordered collected.
