Remember the Knight
Carrie Bastyr
Under the Stars Publishing
Copyright © 2020 by Carrie Bastyr
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Also by Carrie Bastyr
One Starry Knight (The Starry Knight Saga Book 1)
The Lost Knight (The Starry Knight Saga Book 2)
For Hailey,
the reason I finished
Contents
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
19. Chapter Nineteen
20. Chapter Twenty
21. Chapter Twenty-One
22. Chapter Twenty-Two
23. Chapter Twenty-Three
24. Chapter Twenty-Four
25. Chapter Twenty-Five
26. Chapter Twenty-Six
27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
30. Chapter Thirty
31. Chapter Thirty-One
32. Chapter Thirty-Two
33. Chapter Thirty-Three
34. Chapter Thirty-Four
35. Chapter Thirty-Five
36. Chapter Thirty-Six
37. Chapter Thirty-Seven
38. Chapter Thirty-Eight
39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
40. Chapter Forty
41. Chapter Forty-One
42. Chapter Forty-Two
43. Chapter Forty-Three
44. Chapter Forty-Four
45. Chapter Forty-Five
46. Chapter Forty-Six
47. Chapter Forty-Seven
48. Chapter Forty-Eight
49. Chapter Forty-Nine
50. Chapter Fifty
51. Chapter Fifty-One
52. Chapter Fifty-Two
Epilogue
Also by Carrie Bastyr
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Adam
The guilt haunts my nights. My father stands over me, his arms crossed, his eyes dark with disappointment. I failed him, Perseida, everyone. It’s the same dream. He presses the Nexus into my hand, his voice urgent as he gasps, “Run, Adam. Run. Run and don’t look back. Don’t let them get it.” His expression is wild, eyes bulging. “Run.” His terror grips me, pushing me through the woods, stumbling across branches and thick roots pushing up through the dirt. I run, my feet digging into the dirt sending the tiny rocks spraying into my skin. I run and run and run. Then my eyelids grow heavy and my vision blurs. My limbs tremble, weak and feeble, until the ground rises up before me and the Nexus slips from my hands.
And then the dream shifts to the nightmare.
To the horror, the pain, the screaming. The fog of never knowing where I was or why. Waking up—finding the Nexus gone. Finding the Nexus returned. Finding myself escaping into the dreams I shared with her.
That’s where the sunshine streams through my window each morning and I rub the sleep from my eyes, trying to hold onto her. The sunlight sparkling in her eyes and the smile dancing across her lips as she runs along the beach on a summer day. Lucas sometimes joins us, and we laugh and giggle so hard our stomachs hurt. That’s when the tiniest bit of happiness slips in and I lay, staring at my ceiling hoping to hold onto every drop of peace I can.
Reality always finds me though. Even now, as I stare down the beach where her ghost glows like the sunlight. Where the shadows of Lucas and me chasing after her until we all fade into the horizon. Where her voice sings across the wind in a melody only I can hear. Even now, there’s an overcast sky, choking out the sunshine.
“Adam?” My mom interrupts the song playing through my heart. She frowns as she glances at the paintbrush in my hand. I’m standing outside cabin number two paused mid-stroke. “How many times are you going to re-paint these cabins? I only asked you to do it once and you’ve been out here in the cold painting all winter.”
“Until they’re perfect.” I fake a smile. Well, half a smile. It aches too much to lift my lips these days.
She doesn’t buy it, her eyes narrowing as she studies my face. She massages her chin and sighs. “I’m worried about you. Ever since you’ve come back, you’ve been so different. All you do is work and sleep or fix up things around here. Summer’s not for a few months yet and I could open up this place tomorrow.”
“I want to make this place perfect for you,” I say. “You’ve worked hard for so many years to take care of me.”
“Adam, I’m the mother. It’s my job to take care of you. I want you to be happy.” She squints, drawing her eyebrows together.
“I am.” Once again, I try to muster up that smile. Her nose twitches, but her lips stay together. I’ve put her through more worry in the last two years than any mother deserves in a lifetime. Just another failure of mine. “Let me finish this cabin and then we can order pizza or something and watch a movie. How does that sound?”
“It’s Saturday, Adam. You should be running around with Lucas or taking Zoey out. Not hanging out with your mom.” I don’t want to go out. I don’t even want to stay in. I just don’t want to be—wrapped up in this guilt and pain.
“Lucas is at college.” I remind her. It’s funny, how changing time changes things. How one little pebble can topple down a hill until it’s an avalanche. Lucas is alive. He never died in the woods with Sage that night. He’s living, breathing, telling the same old zany jokes, yet he’s different somehow. The same, but not the same. Like the influence of Sage in his life altered him and even our friendship. We’re not as close as we used to be, but we are still friends—or rather were. Our friendship has faded since he left Star Harbor for college a few years ago. He’s now a senior at the University of Minnesota in Duluth, which is both funny and strange at the same time, because that is where she goes.
“What about Zoey?” My mom lifts an eyebrow. “She really likes you.”
Another change. A dark-haired girl who I never knew in that last life, now bounces and giggles and drags out my name whenever she sees me. Addaaamm. It’s so freaking annoying. Even worse, she lives in Sage’s old house with a mom and a dad and a little sister. It’s clean now, with sparkling clear windows and fresh paint. Nothing like the run-down shack it was when Sage lived there. “I’ve told you. I’m not really interested in her.”
My mom softens her gaze. “I just wish you’d try to have a little fun. All this work—life should be fun. You should be enjoying it more.”
“I’m fine. Really,” I lie. Those changes—Lucas, Zoey. They’re not the biggest one. No, that change crushes through my chest. It is the avalanche. Because how can I ever enjoy a world without her? A world where she doesn’t remember me?
My mom purses her lips as she pulls her coat tighter around her. “God, it’s cold. Can you lock up Cabin 5? For some reason, the door is cracked again. I think the locks need to be replaced.”
“Yeah. I’ll close it up. And I can replace the locks tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” She pats my arm and gives me a sm
all smile. “Adam, I know you’re still hurting about your dad and you miss him. I know this has all been a lot for you, especially since your entire life was been based on this destiny, but it’s okay to be happy. You can live again and find a new purpose here. One that doesn’t involve working yourself to death.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I glance away from her, anxious for this conversation to end.
So, I’ve come home. I stay busy. I plow snow, repair furnaces, perform maintenance at the local high school, and take care of the cabins. All to push the guilt away. All to push her away. Not that it ever works for very long.
How do I tell my mom the reason I can’t ever be happy is because of a girl she never knew existed? A girl who she watched grow up, who skipped into our house like she lived here, who came to my mom with the questions her own mom was too busy to answer. My mother loved her like a daughter.
It’s my fault a bullet ripped through her chest. It’s my fault I couldn’t save her. It’s my fault I can longer be with her. She’s happy, and she doesn’t remember Star Harbor any more than Star Harbor remembers her. Besides, she’s not Sage—not my Sage. She’s never been broken and put together so many times. Life hasn’t been cruel to her, and I’m not about to change that. She’s happy and beautiful. She has the family she always dreamed of, a boyfriend who adores her, and a life I cannot be a part of.
She doesn’t need me.
“Adam, are you okay? You’re scaring me again. The way you drift off like that.” My mom shakes me from the daydream, her forehead wrinkling, her lips frowning.
“Uh.” I clear my throat and scramble for an explanation. “Sorry. I was just thinking about, um, everything I want to do before summer. Painting, new locks, maybe an upgrade to your office.”
My mom studies me, slanting her head from side to side. “Are you sure? You’ve been staring at that wall like it’s a great work of art.”
“Uh, yeah. Maybe it is.” I laugh, only it comes out more like a huff. “I was also analyzing the best way to go about finishing this.”
“With paint.” She sighs. “Why don’t you worry about that tomorrow? Just go close up cabin three and we can get our pizza and movie night started. You need a break; you work too hard. What do you want to watch?”
“You pick the movie.” My eyes are locked to the wall. “I’m not particular.” I can’t focus on anything anyway.
“I’ll go order the pizza.” She squeezes my shoulder before stepping off the porch. “Stop staring at that wall, okay?”
“Okay.” My gaze follows her as she strolls down the beach and dodges piles of snow. She lifts her hand in a wave as if she knows I’m watching. I turn away, crouching down to close up the paint can before sucking in a deep breath.
Cabin three. I need to go close up Cabin three. I stand up and step off the porch, stealing a glance back down the beach. My mother is walking by the swing now just outside the lodge, heading for the steps leading to where we live. The swing sways gently in the breeze, my heart swaying with it. Like a photograph, we’re there, laughing and swinging until all hours of the night. Even back before we were more than friends and she was just a playmate, the sound of her laughter was the most beautiful thing in the world.
She was fifteen that summer I really noticed her. My mom picked me up at the airport, peppering me with questions about California and my dad. I mumbled the answers the best a sixteen-year-old boy could. We turned into the long road leading into the lodge where Lucas sat, waiting for us. When I stepped out of the car he stood up. I swear the guy had grown a foot since last summer, and he couldn’t wait to show it.
“Hey, look who’s taller now,” Lucas says. He swaggers over while I pull out my suitcase.
“Still me,” I answer. Which is true. He is close, but I still have him by an inch or two.
“Great,” he frowns.
“Where’s Sage?” I scan the porch. She’s always here, sharing the step with Lucas, leaping from the steps when the car pulls up.
“Probably swooning over Liam,” Lucas says. “She’s all, ‘I want to have Liam’s babies.”
“Oh boy.” My mom pats Lucas on the shoulder. “You’re too much.” She looks at me. “I have her covering the desk while I’m gone. She’s inside. I know she’s anxious to see you.”
I follow Lucas and my mom up the steps, my mind wandering to who this Liam guy is. My legs feel heavy as I follow them down the porch. It’s like there is glue stuck to the bottom of my shoe. Liam. The name sounds pretentious. Arrogant. I bet he’s some well-muscled, way-too-tan guy flexing his arms in his bathing suit with a gaggle of girls watching. Sage would never like a guy like that. Never. She’s too smart. But why is she waiting inside and not out here? I frown. Liam, really?
Sage is behind the counter when we enter. She rushes over and wraps her arms around my neck before I can even set my suitcase down. “Yay,” she says. “Now summer can really begin.”
When she steps back, my heart suddenly starts beating in a way it never had before. My palms grow sticky. Where had that come from? This is Sage—my best friend. The girl form of Lucas. She’s—
She became someone different that summer. Lucas was my best friend too, but he didn’t send frogs leaping up my throat or butterfly wings battering my chest. And Liam—well he turned out to be everything I imagined he was, and I can’t say I ever hated a guy so much. Every time he even smiled at Sage, I wanted to punch his lights out. I’m not a violent person, but he brought something out in me that I’ve never quite felt until now.
Not until Zane. I hate him for bringing Sage to Roswell. For risking her life. I hate him for changing our history and I hate him for the guilt that comes with it. If he hadn’t changed it, she wouldn’t be here. She’d be dead in a parking lot in Roswell, New Mexico. I hate him for abandoning me as a kid. I hate that he could save her when I couldn’t. I hate that he gets to be dead, and I have to be here, stuck in this hell without her.
And I hate myself for hating him so much. He still saved her. He still gave it all so she could live.
“I still hate you, though,” I whisper as I trudge through the sand and ice to cabin three. “I need someone to blame, so it’s you. You get to be free from the pain and the nightmares and this endless guilt ripping through my chest.” The wind from the lake blows across the beach, sending a chill through me and I walk faster, weaving through the piles of snow. It’s February. It will be a few months until the weather warms up.
“Damn you, Zane. I bet it’s warm wherever you are.” I push open the door to the cabin and flip on the light. A figure sits up from the couch, rubbing his eyes.
“Ouch. Can’t a guy get any sleep around here?” He presses his palms across his face to block the light. “Seriously, Adam. Turn that thing off.”
But I don’t. Instead, rage explodes through me as he comes into focus. “Zane? What the hell?”
Chapter Two
Sage
“Can’t we go shopping?” Stella asks me for about the tenth time. She’s perched on the kitchen stool, her brown eyes fluttering and her hands beneath her chin in what Mom calls the You-Can’t-Say-No-To-Stella look. Dad passes by, placing his hand on Stella’s head and messing her hair, sending a clump of brown strands into her eyes.
“Hey,” she screeches. “Stop that.”
“Well, stop guilting your sister.” He leans his elbows on the kitchen island. Stella and I are finishing breakfast—Stella’s favorite cereal, the kind with the different colors.
“The red ones taste the best,” she always tells me.
I shake my head. “They all taste the same, Stella.”
“Nope. Hailey and I did a taste test. Very scientific. The red ones taste better.” She takes a spoonful, chewing loudly.
I love my sister. She oozes sweetness—even when she’s trying to get something. Her voice is a tiny sweet melody that matches perfectly with her broad smile. I video chat with her as much as possible during the school year, but this year has been tough. As a sen
ior, my classes have gotten harder and the decisions I have to make bigger. It’s a crushing weight—this trying to figure out what I want for the rest of my life. Sometimes I want to turn back the clock to Stella’s age where my biggest decisions are about cereal flavors.
I haven’t seen my family since winter break, so when Hunter begged me to come home for Valentine’s Day, I agreed. I need this. Time with my family. Time to feel fifteen all over again. Time to wake up in my old bed, with my old worries about homework and whether Hunter would ask me to dance at the homecoming dance. He had. Would he ask me to the Winter formal? He had. Would he kiss me at prom? He had. It’s cheesy, but we consider Valentine’s Day our anniversary. Our first one together was when he asked me to be his girlfriend. It was sweet, the way he took me out to dinner and handed me a card. ‘Will you be mine?’ it read, and inside, Hunter had written out in large block letters ‘Girlfriend?’. “Yes,” I responded and clapped my hands together, and I’ve never regretted the decision since. Hunter is the sweetest and most thoughtful boyfriend ever. Plus, he’s pretty hot.
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