Page 16 of Trust In Love (Love Mark 2)

“This,” he told me, “is called a book.”

“A book,” I repeated reverently, easing cautiously closer. “Is it dangerous?”

My bodyguard laughed. “Of course not. It’s just a scroll cut into bits and sewn together. See.” He fanned through the rectangular sections again before showing me the strings in the center that kept them bound as one. I blinked at the words on the leaflets, realizing he was right.

“My God.” I grinned in amazement. “It really is just a scroll separated into pieces. How fascinating.”

“Yes. And I must say, it’s much more convenient this way.” Indigo squinted at the words before flipping through the leaflets. “Now, which page was it on?” he murmured to himself.

“Page?” I glanced up and looked around, expecting to see one of my brother’s attendants approaching, but I spotted no one else in the forest with us. “I don’t see any pages out here.”

We seemed quite alone in the forest, which was why I had elected to wander aimlessly through the trees this afternoon. The ache in my chest had left me feeling restless, craving solitude and lots of space. The forest surrounding the castle moat was the perfect setting for that.

Noticing my bewilderment, Indigo smiled. “No, no. Not that kind of page. A page is also what a sheet in a book is called.”

I frowned. “But that’s confusing. Why ever would anyone refer to those things as pages? They in no way resemble any of the errand runners my brother employs.”

Indigo shrugged. “No idea. It’s just what Grandpa Atchison always called them. Here…”

Reaching the page he’d been seeking, he paused and ran his finger over the words before nodding and glancing up at me. “From my research, I’ve discovered that seven Replacements have come through the breach at three different times throughout the last eighty-three years. They look like us, they talk like us—well, mostly like us, anyway—and they think like us. But I believe they’re far more advanced than we are, and oh—they don’t have magic there in their realm. No healers, no soothsayers, no potion brewers, no curse makers or charm tinkers, and no realm breachers. Nothing of the sort.”

I shook my head, not comprehending such a place. “No magic? None at all? But how is that possible?”

“To them, magic is a fantastical notion, while things like motorcycles and carriages that fly through the air like a bird are their reality.”

My eyebrows rose. “Carriages that fly?” Voice turning dry and belief faltering, I said, “Really?”

How absurd. He couldn’t honestly expect me to believe such a thing.

“They’re called airplanes,” Indigo went on, his eyes glittering with excitement. “And that’s how my great-grandma, Amelia, got here. She was flying over a massive sea in an airplane with a man named Fred, looking for a certain island to land on in the middle of the night. Then there was this grand flash of lightning, and the next thing she knew, she was crash-landing into the Bjorn Cliffs. Her friend died in the collision, and Great-grandmother was severely injured. But Great-grandpa Moast was among the first to find her, and he immediately recognized her as his one true love. So he patched her back together with true love’s kiss, and that was that.”

Indigo gave a rueful grin as he tapped the black tattoo on the side of his face, near his left eye. “The love mark at its best, eh?”

My own mark gave a pulse

of tingling awareness, causing me to shiver. And uninvited, a vision wavered through my brain of a boy with close-cut brown hair and dark, untrusting eyes. He’d been the only person my love mark tattoo had ever responded to, and I’d barely gotten five minutes with him before he was gone again. It’d been years since then, yet my mark still pulsed with sorrow whenever I thought of him, needing something that only his presence could seem to quench.

I couldn’t look at another person’s mark or even listen to anyone talk about them without thinking of that boy, wondering if I’d ever see him again, hoping he was okay, and knowing I’d never feel truly complete unless he returned to me.

“Great-grandpa Moast tried to help Amelia return to her realm, but when they realized there was no way, he eventually convinced her to stay and marry him. They had two children together—Anniston and Atchison—and after a time, she and Great-grandpa became emissaries for High Cliff. If they hadn’t been assassinated by those wretched Graykeys, they probably would’ve been able to prevent Lowden’s entire civil war.”

I squinted at him. “So King Bjorn of High Cliff made her an emissary?” Blinking in disbelief, I said, “And she wasn’t even born of that kingdom?”

“Exactly,” Indigo answered, nodding gravely. “Which should tell you right there how wise and knowledgeable she was. After only a few short years in the kingdom, she grew to be that important. She was actually born in a kingdom called Atchison.” Indigo shrugged. “Which is, of course, how my grandfather got his name.”

“Right,” I repeated. “Of course.” All the while, I wondered if my bodyguard was losing his mind.

I scratched at my tattoo because it began to itch again. My, it was certainly sensitive today. Just thinking about my one true love had gotten it all in a dither.

Indigo narrowed his eyes and sent me a dry glance. “I need you to believe me, Nicolette. You’re the only person I’ve ever told about the facts behind my research. Just check this out.” He pointed to the open page in his book. “I’ve talked to all seven Replacements—or, at least, to people who talked to them directly, since most died before I was even born—and all their stories mesh. Isn’t that incredible? When Great-grandma Amelia arrived, she swore it was the year nineteen thirty-seven.”

“Nineteen thirty-seven?” I screeched incredulously.

Indigo nodded. “I know, right? And exactly thirty-three years later, when the next batch of Replacements appeared—on motorcycles—they claimed it should be nineteen seventy. And then thirty-two years after that, the last three arrived, saying it was two thousand two in their world. All the dates match up as the Replacements appear, meaning, over there, it would be the year—hmm, let’s see. Oh yes, it’s twenty-twenty right now.”

“Twenty-twenty?” I snorted and waved a hand. “Well, no wonder why they’re all riding around in giant metal birds. They’re from the future.”

Indigo squinted over that suggestion before he slowly shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. From the maps Great-grandma Amelia drew for Grandpa Atchison when he was young, none of their terrain matches ours. They’re not from this future, not at all. I’m telling you, they’re from an entirely different plane of existence altogether, which makes me think their realm exists concurrently with ours; they must’ve just started recording their time before we did. Or maybe it moves faster than ours. Yes, that would make sense because they’re far more progressive than we are in so many ways with their motorcycles, and airplanes, and books…” He lifted his book to show it off. “And get this. Some of their queens…” Wiggling his eyebrows, he nudged my elbow. “Have even ruled their kingdoms. Now, if that isn’t advanced thinking, I don’t know what is.”

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