Dark Secrets - Linsey Hall Page 0,8
assume. We don’t know what they said.”
Understanding dawned. “And I’m the only one old enough to know what would have happened back then. I’m your first-hand account.”
“Exactly.” Worry creased her brow. “Which makes you my only hope for Mac and Seraphia. They’ve been cursed by this, but I have no idea how or by what.”
“You weren’t cursed?” Worry tugged.
She shook her head, her lips pinched. “No. And I don’t know why.”
“Good.”
She nodded, her pleading gaze meeting mine. “Tell me why this place is cursed. How do I fix Mac and Seraphia?”
I turned to the wall, searching my memory. It came up blank, which wasn’t surprising, given the length of my life and all the things I’d forgot over the years, but I hated that I couldn’t immediately fix her problem. “I genuinely don’t know.”
“You don’t remember any of the important things that happened here? Hangings or festivals or crimes?”
“You think a past event might have stained this place?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “I'm reaching, here. I want to know how this wall could curse Mac and Seraphia, and I know the past has something to do with it.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember anything interesting about this place.” In normal life, I wasn’t above lying about what I knew. But with Carrow, I was compelled to speak the truth.
And regretfully, I had.
“What?” Surprise flickered in her voice. “How can you not remember?”
“Do you remember everything from your entire life?”
“Well…no. But this is important.”
“Many important things have happened in the last five hundred years.” I winced. “Closer to six hundred, now.”
Resignation flickered on her face, and maybe something like concern.
For me?
No. Of course not.
People thought immortality was a gift. And maybe it would be, if everyone lived forever, but they didn’t.
Therefore, it was a lonely proposition.
“What do you know about that man?” She pointed to the statue.
“Councilor Rasla was a bastard, but I don’t remember him well.” I frowned, trying to recall details about him. Rasla had been pivotal in establishing the rule of law in Guild City. Why were my memories of him vague?
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, fighting a headache.
A headache?
Since when did I get headaches?
“Are you all right?” Carrow asked.
“Yes. Fine.” I met her gaze. “You want to know what I know about this place?”
“Yes.” Frustration vibrated from her.
“Well, then. We’ll reach into my memory.”
4
Carrow
I frowned at Grey, my frustration turning to confusion. “Reach into your memory?”
“Just because I can’t immediately recall everything that happened to me doesn’t mean I can’t access it. Finding a way to remember events in my past has been vital to building my empire.”
“So, you have a lot of journals or something?”
A low chuckle burst from him. “Not precisely.”
“Good, because I really don’t want to sort through hundreds of years of your handwritten journals.” Lie. Even though the idea of him sitting down and penning his life story was ridiculous—he was so not that kind of man—I did want the insight. Desperately.
“It’s not quite my style,” he said.
“No. I imagine not.”
“I have a Mind Mage who helps me recover my stored memories. We’ll go to her and find the information that you seek. Unless you want to try?”
“I’m not sure my gift works for that, but I could try.”
He held out his arm, and I rested my fingertips on his sleeve, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver through me.
“Remember that I can’t vow that I ever knew the information you seek,” he said.
I nodded and called upon my magic, trying to see whatever might be lost inside his head.
Nothing happened.
I tried again.
Still nothing. I removed my hand and met his gaze. “I think we need to go see your Mind Mage.”
He nodded. “Come, then. We’ll visit the Mages’ Guild tower.”
I grinned, the faintest bit of excitement pushing through my worry. I’d never been to the mages’ tower. I’d visited the guild towers belonging to the witches, the sorcerers, and the dwarves, but none of the others. “Lead on.”
He nodded and turned, striding back down the narrow alley. I followed, admiring the way that he moved smoothly through the narrow space, twisted slightly to avoid brushing the stone walls with his broad shoulders. He walked on silent feet, the ultimate predator.
We reached the main street a few minutes later, and it was still bustling with people hauling shopping bags and chatting away in groups.
“Where do the mages live?” I asked, wondering if we could swing by Eve’s shop to check on Mac and Seraphia.
“Far side of town, near the witches.”
I did the map