by Suzi Davis
“Oh.” Sebastian frowned down at the floor. He looked as confused as I felt. “I don’t remember any of that.”
“Neither do I. I don’t remember ever doing drugs or being involved in any gangs – or even any kind of trouble… Dahlia, my father’s new wife, tells the exact same story though.”
“Bizarre,” Sebastian muttered. He winced, rubbing his forehead with one hand.
“Do the headaches still bother you much?” I blurted out.
He opened his eyes, looking at me strangely.
“Did I have headaches before?”
“No… I don’t think so. I just meant… are you feeling better? They said our injuries were almost the same and I’ve been having headaches since I woke up,” I struggled to explain. It was hard when I wasn’t entirely sure what I meant.
“The headaches are slowly improving. David’s been having them too – he was also standing close to the explosion. We were put in the same room so we’ve been chatting. I can’t really remember him but at the same time… I’m certain we were friends. Everything about him is so familiar almost as if I know him as well as you – well, not quite.” He shrugged with an almost embarrassed smile.
“My burns are healing fast,” he continued. “It’s strange, David was found even closer to you than I was but he doesn’t have a single burn on his body – only bruises, a broken arm and the memory loss. A nurse told me that my burns are identical to yours on my arm, hand and side but my back was also badly burnt and so was the left side of my rib cage and part of my chest.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” I immediately felt guilty. My father had never mentioned that he had been even more badly burned than I.
“I didn’t lose any blood though. I heard you nearly bled to death.” His eyes flickered to the stitched wound still healing at my throat. He winced as if in pain himself but whether it was from imagining me bleeding to death or imagining the pain of my injury, was hard to tell.
“I survived. My throat doesn’t bother me nearly as much as the burns do. I can’t imagine how it must be to have them on your back and both sides… I’m sorry,” I repeated, somehow feeling as if it were all my fault.
He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed. He sounded like he really meant it too. “How are you feeling?”
“Better each day, but still very confused.” I paused, trying to remember what we had been talking about. My short term memory seemed to have been affected from the explosion too and I often found myself struggling to focus and recall recent events. Each day got a little easier though. “Do you remember much of our trip in Europe?” I asked as I recalled where we had left off.
“Very little. We spent a few days in Ireland, and then I remember taking a train through South-Eastern Europe. My memories of Greece are patchy at best,” he admitted.
“That’s pretty much the same as me.”
Our eyes met again and once more I felt that same, strange, electric spark between us. We both quickly looked away, my heart was still beating a little too fast.
“Do you remember…” Sebastian paused, taking a deep breath. I looked up curiously, aware that he suddenly appeared quite nervous. He met my gaze, smiling almost shyly as he slowly reached forward and took my left hand. His touch was soft and gentle, his fingertips smooth and warm as he gently stroked around the bruise from where my IV had been inserted. The familiarity of his touch and the new excitement he was causing me was both disorienting and thrilling. My lips parted slightly as he gently stroked my hand, his fingers lightly twisting at the small, silver ring wrapped around my finger. “Do you remember when I gave this to you?” he asked quietly, raising his eyes to mine as he spoke.
My breath caught in my chest.
“Yes,” I whispered back. It was one of my few clear memories from the past year. I remembered every time I looked at it - how he had proposed, how I was engaged to a boy I felt I barely knew. But this time, with his warm hand gently holding mine, and his intense eyes right in front of me, I remembered even more. The magic of The Giants Ring came back to me, that strange and ancient place we had camped out at where an inexplicable and exciting energy had hung in the very air. I remembered how we had stayed up all night talking and then how we had eventually slept in one another’s arms, wrapped in blankets upon the sweet, dewy grass. I remembered the brilliant starlit dome that had filled my sight, arching from horizon to horizon above us and the silvery light of the moon that had made the whole world sparkle and glow under its magical light. I remembered the look in his eyes, the quiver to his voice as he had given me the ring and asked me to marry him. And suddenly, the memories no longer felt like someone else’s but they felt like my own – they were my own. I nearly gasped from the wonder of it.
“I’m glad you remember,” he confessed with a half-smile. “It’s my clearest memory. I’ve been thinking about you almost nonstop since I awoke but I was so scared to come and see you. I was afraid that you might not remember, that you might not…” he didn’t finish his sentence, he didn’t have to.
“I do,” I assured him.
He squeezed my hand in such a familiar and reassuring way that my heart instantly lightened and was filled with a new, bright optimistic hope that I knew I had forgotten.
“So what now?” I asked him.
His expression became more serious, his eyes even more intense as he considered. He really was quite handsome, my heart skipped a beat as our eyes met.
“I can’t remember our plans beyond that we wanted to get married,” he admitted. “And in light of recent events, it makes sense to postpone things, to take some time to…”
“Remember one another?” I suggested.
He shook his head with an amused smile. “No, that’s not what I meant. There’s a lot I can’t remember but even still, I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.” I felt another pleased blush threatening to creep into my cheeks as he spoke. I was starting to feel the exact same way, I realized. I wished he’d come to visit me sooner – this was the most sense anything had made since I’d woken up. It was the most calm and relaxed I’d felt in weeks. “I was going to say, maybe we should take some time to make some new memories together,” he hesitantly suggested.
I smiled. “I love that idea.”
“The Jensons, my foster parents, told me that you’re going home with your father – to Toronto?”
“That’s what he’s arranged,” I confirmed.
“Is that what you want?” he asked, taking me by surprise.
I took a moment to consider. Strangely enough, it was question I hadn’t yet asked myself. What did I want?
“I don’t want to disappoint him but… my only other option is moving back in with my mother.” And no matter how hard she was trying right now, I still couldn’t bear the idea of moving back in with her. Even if I couldn’t remember the past few months clearly, I had a definite sense of freedom and independence that I knew I had recently gained and I didn’t want to lose that.
“That’s not your only option.”
I looked at Sebastian curiously, feeling butterflies rise in my stomach once more.
“You could come home with me,” he continued. “I’ve already discussed it with the Jensons and they’d be more than happy to have you. They have a guest room in their house – you’ve stayed with us before. Your mother would be close by and your father would be welcome to visit anytime.” He watched me hopefully. I could tell he was holding his breath again as I considered. “I think David might come to Victoria too. He can’t remember his family and no one’s come looking for him. I’m the only friend he has right now... The Jensons would like you both to come back with us. And of course, I would too…” he babbled. He smiled, appearing to laugh at his own awkwardness as a familiar dimple appeared in his cheek.
I could faintly remember the Jensons, a quiet, kind and unassuming couple. I remembered their generosity, how they had taken me in before when I’d had no where to go. I remembered their warm an
d welcoming old home, and their cozy guest room, and I suddenly remembered how little time I had spent in it and how familiar Sebastian’s bedroom had become during my stay there. I didn’t even try to fight the blush this time.
“My father will be upset at the change in plans – especially with such short notice. My mother’s going to be quite angry too but… it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
A slow smile spread across Sebastian’s face that warmed me through. I became lost in his eyes again and for a second, I felt certain that he was about to kiss me and my heart pounded hard in anticipation. But he pulled away, reaching into his pocket for something.
“I almost forgot, I have something for you.” I watched curiously as he pulled something small and metal out of his pocket and held it out for me to examine.
It was an old, tarnished ring that was crushed and bent out of shape so badly it couldn’t possibly be worn. There was something oddly familiar about it, especially the small piece of amber pressed into it that appeared to be in the shape of a tiny heart. I took it from him gingerly, turning it in my hand and wondering over the strange warmth that radiated from it and the captivating way the small bubbles in the amber stone sparkled and held the light. It felt almost as if it had a life of its own.
“One of the rescuers found it in the rubble near us. He came to the hospital to visit us both, to see how we were doing and he left it with one of the nurses, thinking it might belong to one of us. I’ve been saving it for you… it feels like it should be yours. I know it’s too bent to wear but I thought you might want to put it on a necklace or something, a memento of a day neither of us can remember,” he added with a wry smile.
“Thank you.” I squeezed the ring tightly in my hand, overcome by the sudden certainty that everything was going to be okay. For the first time since I awoke, I felt amazingly confident and empowered. I didn’t feel like a victim anymore – I felt like a survivor. “It’ll be my lucky ring,” I pronounced with a smile.
“I’m glad you like it. I’ve been wanting to give it to you since you woke up. And -” he paused, reaching out to lightly and hesitantly brush back my lose hair from my face. “And there’s something else that I’ve been wanting to do.”
My heart was steadily beating faster, my breath coming light and fast. I hoped I knew exactly what he wanted, but I played along anyway.
“Oh, and what’s that?”
He heard the teasing tone in my voice and leant forward with a smile.
“This.”
And his lips met mine in the most magical kiss I could ever remember experiencing. A passion was slowly building between us that stole my breath away and captured my heart. And even though I had lost so many of my memories, and I was left scarred and injured and confused, I was overwhelmed by the abrupt certainty that I had somehow ended up with absolutely everything I had ever wanted.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Suzi Davis is a British-born Canadian writer and artist and has been writing stories and poetry for as long as she can remember. Her current focus is on writing young adult novels whose genre allows her to explore the relationships between families, friends and young lovers. Interested in the paranormal, there is always an added element of magical fantasy to whatever tale she spins. Suzi lives on British Columbia’s Vancouver Island with her husband and young sons.
SILVER DEW is her second novel and the sequel to the bestselling AMBER FROST.
Find out more about her at authorsuzidavis.com
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There are so many people to thank who have helped make this book come to life. Thank you first and foremost to all the fans of Amber Frost. Your support and enthusiasm helped me to write each and every word of this story. This book would not exist without you.
And I could never have written this book without the support of my friends – most especially, my Mommy-friends who remind me that I’m not really a crazy person, my life and kids are just crazy sometimes. Special thanks to Paul for being my Ireland-consultant; I really wish I could have fit in a pub scene with two old men and a Gaelic football game. And I’d also like to thank my friend Camille, who promptly answers any and all text messages no matter how random they are or how busy her own life is. You keep my website running, give great, dependable advice, and you don’t judge or laugh too hard at some of my, er… “less-inspired” ideas. You’re a true friend.
My family has been so amazing through out this process – what would I do without you? My noisy, messy, loud boys make me laugh and remind me what life is really all about. My sweet husband is so supportive and always knows how to make me laugh (by the way, you’re not funny). My sister is absolutely always there for me. My family in England have loved and supported me from all the way across the Atlantic (and North America) and of course, there’s my Mum. If I listed everything my Mum has done for me, I’d honestly have to write another book. So let’s just sum it up with - thanks for being my Mum and being the best one imaginable. It wouldn’t be so bad to turn into my mother… but I’ll probably still try to avoid it!
And finally, I’d like to thank Michelle from Central Avenue Publishing. Thanks for being so easy to work with, and for believing in me and my work. All your hard work is appreciated so much! I write stories, you create books – I think we done good!
Thank you.
Table of Contents
Central Avenue Publishing Edition
To my boys.
silver dew
Chapter One – Running from the Past
Chapter Two – Fire
Chapter Three – Sweet Dreams
Chapter Four – Closing In
Chapter Five – Reunion
Chapter Six – Taking Flight
Chapter Seven – Magic of the Land
Chapter Eight – Mistaken
Chapter Nine – Ghost from the Past
Chapter Ten – Nightmare
Chapter Eleven – Lost
Chapter Twelve – A New Design
Chapter Thirteen – Ceremony
Chapter Fourteen – Scars and Fresh Wounds
Chapter Fifteen – The Hunt
Chapter Sixteen – An Invitation
Chapter Seventeen – The Necromanteion
Chapter Eighteen – Silence and Darkness
Epilogue
About The Author
Acknowledgments
Table of Contents
Central Avenue Publishing Edition
To my boys.
silver dew
Chapter One – Running from the Past
Chapter Two – Fire
Chapter Three – Sweet Dreams
Chapter Four – Closing In
Chapter Five – Reunion
Chapter Six – Taking Flight
Chapter Seven – Magic of the Land
Chapter Eight – Mistaken
Chapter Nine – Ghost from the Past
Chapter Ten – Nightmare
Chapter Eleven – Lost
Chapter Twelve – A New Design
Chapter Thirteen – Ceremony
Chapter Fourteen – Scars and Fresh Wounds
Chapter Fifteen – The Hunt
Chapter Sixteen – An Invitation
Chapter Seventeen – The Necromanteion
Chapter Eighteen – Silence and Darkness
Epilogue
About The Author
Acknowledgments