by Lisa Kumar
She gazed at him, astonished. "Okay. Where’s the catch? It’s too good and convenient to be true."
His lips quirked, but all too soon the smile slipped away, and his hand dropped to his lap. "It is true. But there is a price for everything. Think about what I’ve told you, and how it will apply to those on Earth. Once the timelines of your loved ones’ lives are spent, you cannot revisit those years."
He paused, taking up her hand. Looking down, he ran his fingers soothingly over her skin. "In other words, once they’ve died, you cannot go back and recapture those years." His voice lowered. "We hold no sway over death."
7
Nara giggled as Natalie gently tugged the brush through her hair. Natalie grinned, feeling better than she had minutes ago. The cheery sound could lighten even the grumpiest of moods.
The girl, armed with brush and pins, had come to her room and begged Natalie to arrange her hair. Doubtful of her ability, Natalie tried to refuse, but the girl wouldn't accept any excuse, real or imagined.
So now Natalie stood behind the teen, who was seated at a vanity table. The rhythmic stroke of her hands seemed to permeate through Natalie’s whole body, calming her in a way little else could. Except for maybe Lorh.
Though she knew she should shy away from that dangerous thought, she was determined to be honest with herself. She could deny the pull between them all she wanted, but it didn’t make it any less true. She was tired of fooling herself. Admitting the truth didn’t mean she was staying. Truthfully, she probably wasn’t, but at least when the time came, she could make the decision with a clear conscience.
As she listened to Nara’s chatter, she let her mind go back over the week she'd spent in TirAnn. Lorh was with her as often as possible, but when he had business to attend to, she also found herself in the company of his siblings.
Nara gravitated toward her the most and seemed starved for any attention she could offer. Aiya was more reticent, but still sought her out. And Sirina… A warm feeling kindled in her chest at the thought of her. The little girl smiled and squealed whenever she saw Natalie.
What was the most surprising, knowing what she did of adolescent boys, was that even Aeron sometimes came out of his teen-boy shell to make conversation.
All in all, Lorh’s family was lovable and endearing. She’d miss them terribly if — no, that was still more than likely when — she left. In two weeks, she’d say good-bye and go back to…
She flinched and couldn’t finish that thought. Thankfully, Nara hadn’t noticed.
Natalie frowned as the brush caught in a snag. After gently pulling it free, she turned her focus inward again. Well, it appeared she had some reservations. She did still want to leave, right? Sure, she did. It was the only option that made sense. Why would she stay in a land she barely knew, with a male she’d only known for a week?
But Lorh was amazing, and not just because he was fae and could do some “cool” things. No, he made her feel…cherished and loved. Instead of that suffocating her like it did with Devin, she wanted to give Lorh the same in return. With Devin, she’d always felt like she had to claw her way out, but with Lorh, she wanted to claw her way in and get as close as she could.
So what did that say about her emotions for Lorh? That she loved him? Could she love him after such a short period of time?
Realization hit her, and the breath froze in her lungs. She didn’t know if what she felt was true love, but it was something powerful, something she couldn’t ignore. And she had two weeks to see where it led. If only she didn’t have to make a choice when her time was up.
Maybe she didn’t? Hope built until she nearly wiggled with it. Could she get a longer stay without binding herself to him? Just until she could make a final decision? She’d have to ask Lorh.
Coming to a particularly nasty snarl in Nara's tresses, she slowed down and finger-combed the tangled strands. Even though the girl's hair looked silky smooth, the brush still found an amazing amount of knots.
"How’s your courtship with my brother going?" Nara piped up hopefully.
Shaken out of her thoughts, Natalie glanced up in surprise. "Courtship?"
"There’s no reason to hide it. We all know."
"Um, fine."
Well, that was awkward. She’d been sure they’d known, but for some reason, it felt strange, almost inappropriate to talk to Nara about her brother that way. Even though Nara was technically older, Natalie definitely was the adult in the relationship due to the difference in their maturity levels. In spite of all Nara’s one hundred and eighty years, the girl’s mind and body resembled that of a twelve-year-old human's.
Natalie watched, entranced, as the brown hair glided between her fingers. The brush strokes slowed. Through the hazy veil of time and memory — or maybe psychosis — she saw an image of a woman and a younger Nara. The room, the table…everything was the same. Except the woman, since Natalie couldn’t get a clear picture of her. Except for that and Nara's younger age, the scene could’ve been a replica of what a person would surely see right now if peeking into the room.
Her hands trembled, and lightheadedness swam through her, causing the room to spin. Still she couldn't move or stop staring at Nara's hair. She wanted to close her eyes, to block out the sight, but body and mind failed her. A dreamy voice pierced her consciousness, and she came back to herself with a jolt.
"I miss my mother. She used to brush my hair just like this."
Natalie dropped the brush as if it had burned her hand and took a step back. Adrenaline coursed through her. She wanted to flee. She wanted to melt into the floor.
Nara turned around in the chair to look at her. "M…my lady…Natalie, are you well?"
"No, not really." Her voice shook. "Maybe we can finish this later?"
"Should I get my brother or a medic?"
"No." Natalie winced at hearing her own forceful tone. "No. No, thank you."
Getting up from her seat, Nara glanced at her uncertainly. "I will leave you to rest but will check on you later." She gestured toward a silken rope by the head of the bed. "Ring if you need anything."
After Nara had closed the door, Natalie stumbled to the bed, her legs hitting the wood frame. Pain shot up her shins but hardly fazed her. She knew she would probably have a bruise by tonight.
She let herself fall onto the mattress. Her crowded mind protested the movement. Taking a deep breath, she watched the filtered sunlight dance across the ceiling. It was tangible, real. But the images in her mind… Could they have been real — or, at least, could they have been real at one time? Was she channeling someone else’s memories? His mother? His old fiancée’s?
A shiver put icy fingers on her spine. She buried her face in a pillow, wanting to get away from her thoughts, but they wouldn’t be denied.
Maybe the images were mere echoes of past times, like energy she could sense? After all, she felt more like an observer, where the whole scene panned out before her.
No, that was crazy. But any crazier than "seeing" someone’s memories?
Before this had happened today, Lorh had appeared to be the whole reason why she was here. Now she wasn’t so sure. What connection could she have to his family? To his siblings?
She shook her head. None of her suppositions were possible. It had to be her subconscious trying to resolve some inner conflict. But then, she was stuck in a mythical land, so how insane was it?
Her mind turned over each clue and detail she’d gleaned in the last week and tried to put them in a reasonable pattern. The minutes fled by as she nearly drove herself nuts with the attempt. Nothing made sense. The more she thought about it, the more confused she became.
As her eyelids become heavy, she scrubbed her hands over her face and groaned. Giving in to sleep might be the best choice. All she was getting right now was a headache and a trip down “crazy” road. A fresh perspective could put a new spin on all the questions roiling in her brain.
Even as sleep overtook her, her last thoughts were of L
orh’s fiancée, trying to picture what kind of fae woman she’d been. Was she still alive? Had she been blonde or dark-haired, like herself? Natalie shied away from this possibility, not wanting any similarities between her and Lorh’s mysterious fiancée.
* * *
* * *
Lorh started to vacate his chair, staring dazedly at the door of his chamber, but Nara pushed him back down. "She doesn’t want to see anyone, even you."
Sitting on the edge of the seat, he attempted to rise a second time. "But —"
"I think she is remembering."
He froze, even though he was halfway to standing. Nara pressed down on his shoulders, and he collapsed back onto the chair. "W-what?"
She huffed, tapping her foot. "I thought this was what you wanted, what we wanted."
"It is, but…so much rests on her. What if she decides not to stay? How will we cope?" His voice lowered to a whisper. "How will I cope?"
A determined gleam flashed through Nara’s eyes. "She will stay. She has to. How could she not choose us? We’re family."
"One she has no knowledge about." Even as he uttered this, he knew it wasn’t quite true, not anymore. As Nara said, Natalie was remembering. He’d seen firsthand proof of that by the stream. And often, when they touched, confusion clouded her eyes as implanted memories tugged at her. She’d gaze at her surroundings in a kind of trance, a haze of remembrance pressing in on her.
It wasn’t an easy process for him to watch, but he knew it was even worse for Natalie. She didn’t have the benefit of previous understanding. For him, though, this knowledge stirred painful memories that were better left in the dark recesses of his mind.
Nara planted her hands on her hips. "Not by choice. Before she came here, it was impossible for her to truly remember."
Amusement at her bossy stance warred with the need to scold her. "Yes, but the result is the same. She doesn’t know us. And we’re deceiving her about the heart of things, the core of our family."
Her mouth set mulishly. "We have no choice in the matter. You impressed that fact upon us. And she will remember. She is already beginning to. Where is your hope? When we despaired, you were the one to comfort us."
Lorh straightened his shoulders. She was right. That was his position, not hers. As the head of the family, he held everyone together, often overlooking his own needs and wants to do so. Now could be no different, because more than ever, he needed his wits about him.
He glanced up at her knowing eyes and smirking face, knowing she’d succeeded in what she’d set out to do — to give him a dose of strength to buoy his spirits. "The battle is far from over, but she’s not going anywhere."
After throwing herself into his arms, she hugged him. "I like how you think."
Laughing, he returned the hug. "Then we are in accord."
Her laughter filled his ears, easing his heart and mind further. With a family such as this, how could Natalie not stay? They’d help her through it all. She’d never want for anything, and love and affection would be hers for the taking.
"Do you know who you remind me of when you get that pigheaded expression on your face?" he asked.
A giggle escaped her. "Mother."
He swallowed the lump that’d popped up in his throat. "You could be her twin when you’re in a tizzy."
She stared down her nose at him. "That, my good sir, is a compliment."
He sobered. "I never said it was not. ‘Tis a very good trait…when not directed at me." She harrumphed, pouting, but didn’t reply.
Arching a brow, he asked, "Do you not have studies to attend to?"
Seeing her flush guiltily, he put her away from him. "Go do that, and then visit Sirina."
"As you wish, Father."
With that, his daughter left, taking the laughter in the room with her and leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts.
* * *
* * *
After knocking on Natalie’s door a few hours later and receiving no reply, Lorh opened it and peeked in. She was huddled on her bed and staring at the ceiling. Her complete lack of movement was a screaming indicator that all was still not right.
Lorh swallowed the rising dread, entered the room, but remained by the door. The late afternoon sun highlighted her wan features, and any hope that she’d a peaceful nap was obliterated. Her red eyelids drooped, making her look like she could drop off into sleep at any moment. To his relief, however, no signs of tears were visible.
Just how much did she remember? Only one way to find out.
"Natalie," he called softly. When she studiously ignored him, his heart dropped to his toes. He couldn’t let her slip away, not now, not when they were so close to a breakthrough. She needed emotional support, and he’d give it to her even if he had to make her see she needed it.
After silently shutting the door, he crossed over to the bed. He seated himself on the mattress, and when it shifted under his weight, she finally looked up.
"Are you well?" He forced the words out through a tight throat.
"Something’s going on. I feel it here." She shook her head, the misery practically leaking from every inch of her, and touched her forehead. "Shards of memory are inserting themselves into my psyche. Tell me I’m not going mad."
Something broke within him, but he still couldn’t tell her the complete truth. It could ruin their future if he did. He hated these lies and omissions, but what other choice did he have? Once she knew everything, would she understand and forgive him this? Especially about the children? Something inside told him yes, but it might not come as easily and as quickly as he’d like.
He reached out, cupped her cheek, and, gentling his voice, said, "You’re not."
She closed her eyes for a moment before gazing at him. "Are someone else’s memories overtaking my life?"
"I cannot answer that question, but know what you are experiencing is happening for a reason."
The listlessness apparently leaving her, she pushed herself upright into a seated position. His hand fell away from her.
"A reason everybody knows but me," she said.
He couldn’t deny it. "It must seem that way."
"I just want to understand. How can I make any decisions if I can’t?"
The hint of passion — and sulkiness — in her tone caused him to smile for the first time since he’d entered her chamber. "And you will. Just give it time."
"That’s what you always say."
"Because that’s all I can."
She leaned forward, elbows on her bent knees, and slanted him a look. "There’s something I wanted to ask you about earlier."
Wariness settled over him. "Yes?"
"I know you said I have three weeks total to decide, but how about if I tentatively decide to stay with the intent to make a final choice at a later date?"
A leaden ball formed in his stomach. Natalie was smart, so he should’ve seen this question coming. How to explain without giving too much away? "Normally, that might be arranged, but the permission I received to bring you here stipulated three weeks. It was quite the blow to me because it doesn’t give us much time."
She snorted. "Tell me about it. But what’s this mysterious entity you got permission from?"
"There’s a Committee of Regulatory Time Travel. Everything related to establishing links goes through them. They also have the power to stipulate…how certain circumstances are handled."
"Like bring someone back from Earth?" she asked, resting her chin on her knees.
"Yes." What she didn’t know was what he’d done was borderline illegal, and only with the help of his younger sister, Annaka, who belonged to the committee, had he been able to do it.
Even with his sister’s influence and a lot of coin making its way into the approving committee members’ pockets, he’d still only been able to secure three weeks.
Seeing Natalie’s expectant look, he resolved to voice something he dreaded to say, but she needed to understand the prejudice she’d face here sooner or late
r. Hopefully, the very thought of it wouldn’t drive her away. When it came to what she wanted and facing injustice, she’d always had an iron will, so…
"Bringing humans here with the intent to bond with them isn’t a popular concept, and only due to extenuating circumstances was I allowed to bring you here."
As a troubled-looking Natalie processed his words, he considered what he’d said — and what he hadn’t. Though he’d told her a lot, he’d left so much unsaid, so much she still possibly couldn’t guess at.
It was those extenuating circumstances, not her humanity, that made it nearly illegal for me to bring her here. Oh, her humanity was deemed horrible enough, but to bring someone who was previously dead in this timeline back to the living is likened to playing God. A travesty to life and its cycle.
He could tell her none of this. Part of the rules was that she had to arrive at the truth for herself. The mind was a fragile organ, but the spells governing the implantation of memories were even more dangerous. In fact, he was positive the committee members who’d overseen the creation of the spell vial had made it even more treacherous for Natalie. They’d offered no guarantees that she’d remember everything after the three weeks had elapsed.
His hands clenched as he pictured throttling those two-faced committee members. They wanted him to fail, wanted Natalie to fail, but in a way that couldn’t be pinned directly back to them. Annaka had warned him about this when she was shut out of the energy spell’s creation.
"So humans aren’t well liked here?"
Natalie’s concerned voice tore him back to the present and to something he didn’t look forward to explaining. "In TirAnn, not generally." He reached for her hand, wanting to give her comfort. "Humans are seen as lesser, as servants for the fae, as entertainment even."
Her brows snapped together, and her fingers tightened around his. "Then why do you want me?"