Page 19 of Prince of the Northwest Forest
Justice pinches the bridge of his nose. “Forget I said anything. It’s embarrassing.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” I assure him. Even though I’d love it if he did. I’ve been feeling a connection to him that I don’t usually have with anyone, even my brothers. Ilikebeing with him. Talking to him. Listening to him. Again, it’s as if I know him from somewhere. But maybe it’s just that he has a comfortable “old shoe” personality—that he’s easy to get to know.
I turn and look at him squarely. His chest is heaving from the hike, and his cheeks are flushed. His eyes are bright. In the coffee shop, he was wearing a black apron with leather straps, but now he’s put on a dark green plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms, and he looks like a lumberjack.
“They stole a memory,” he blurts.
Figures.
“Of something that mattered. And now I don’t feel like I can trust myself or anyone else. What I want to remember … it’s right there. Right on the tip of my tongue. Kind of. But I can’t bring it forward, and it’s driving me up the wall.”
Typical fae. I clench my hands. While their behavior is predictable, it doesn’t stop me from being pissed that they’d do such a thing to Justice. “Sounds like them,” I mutter.
He stiffens. “This is something you’ve heard of before?”
I nod.
Justice crosses his arms over his chest and starts pacing around the clearing. “Ugh. That’s worse.”
I swallow hard. “So you know you’re not alone, they … they’re the cause of my scar.” I resist the urge to point at it.
Justice comes to a stop. He wrinkles his nose. “Really? What happened?” Then, immediately, “Never mind, forget it. You don’t have to answer that.”
My throat closes up, and I feel a tightness in my chest. “All I remember is that I was in a sword fight with a fae, or maybe more than one. I was defending someone. I think it was a friend. A girl, maybe. I have this feeling that something happened to her, and I’m certain I lost the fight. But like you, I can’t remember anything else, and it’s frustrating.”
“Why do they do that?”
With how Justice murmurs the question, I don’t think he’s expecting an answer, but I give him one anyway. “The fae lack souls, so they need a substitute. By stealing memories, they can come closer to having a human experience. Which is closer to being human.”
Justice blinks. “That’s a scenario I’d expect to see in Jails and Jackals.”
I frown. “What is that?”
“It’s a role-playing game where you go on quests.” He waves a hand. “Never mind.” The afternoon sun is getting low in thesky, and it’s turning everything golden. Justice’s face is bathed in sunlight, and it looks very … handsome.
Say something, Kalle. “Maybe I can help. What have you been doing to get your memory back?”
“Looking for fairy circles. I figured if I found one, I could find the fae who stole from me.”
I shudder. “No, don’t do that. You don’t want to go to the Fae Realm without protection.”
“What kind of protection?”
“You at least want a sword,” I say. “For starters.”
“I left mine at the cleaners,” he says dryly, and I chuckle.
My laughter feels rusty. “Smartass.” We keep walking down the forest trail. “How did they get your memory to begin with?”
“I’d rather not say,” Justice mumbles. Then he squares his shoulders. “Actually, I do want to. I want to get it off my chest. It’s been eating me up inside. And since we’re bypassing all the niceties …”
“You can tell me anything,” I assure him.
“Yeah, I think I can. It feels like I can trust you.” Justice’s sepia eyes linger on my face, and for once I don’t want to hide.
That statement makes my body stiffen and then relax. “I feel the same way. I can’t explain it.”
“Maybe because we’re strangers? I mean, who am I going to tell what you say?”
