Because that was what my memory required.
Or was this all just a lie? Another twisted test?
“I’ll always protect you,” Zakkai agreed, sounding proud. “But this will, like, bond us more. So that way I can sense if you’re in danger.”
Laki nodded. “Yes. And he’ll be able to help you even if he’s in another kingdom.”
Yes, I knew all this. Mom and Dad had explained it last week.
I frowned. Last week? I shook my head. This experience was starting to feel a little too real, like I was seven again.
Everything slowed around me, my parents freezing in place as my father began to speak. Laki stilled as well, his face void of expression, but Zakkai merely smiled at me, his dimples flashing proudly.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” I said.
“It’s a memory spell, Flora.” His eyes sparkled as he used my nickname again. “It’s so you can remember.”
“Remember what?”
“Me,” he replied as everything dissolved around us into a new image of real stars and the two of us lying on our backs outside, his hand in mine. “I don’t want to go,” he said, his gaze on the sky above. “But Dad says I have to.”
“I don’t want you to go either,” I replied, the childlike voice one I remembered but the phrase foreign. I hadn’t even thought to speak those words; they just left my mouth without permission.
“He says you have to forget me, too,” he added, frowning. “I don’t want to do it.”
“Then don’t.”
“But I have to protect you, Flora.” He squeezed my hand. “You’re my best friend, and that’s what best friends do.”
“Mom and Dad will protect me.” My mouth just kept moving without my permission, saying things before I could process the reaction. “I don’t want to forget you, Kai.”
He sighed. “I know. But I’ll make you remember one day.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. Dad says it might be a while. We have to go hide in a new kingdom.” The way his lips twisted to the side told me how he felt about that.
“A new kingdom?” I repeated.
“Yeah.”
“So you’re leaving me?”
“I have to, Flora. The bad fae are getting too close.” He finally looked at me, his eyes misted with tears. “I don’t want to go, but Dad says it’s the only way to be safe.”
“What about me?” I asked, my voice small.
He reached over to place his hand over my heart. “I’ll always be here, Flora. ’Cause of the bond.”
I felt the connection pulsate in response, the strand tying us together as one. It tingled a little, warming my skin. “You’re my best friend, Kai.”
“I know,” he whispered. “You’re mine, too, Flora. I’m sorry you won’t remember me.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I replied softly, his sadness weaving an inky sensation through our link. It wrapped around me like a cloak of despair, his eyes clouding over as magic sprang to life between us. “What are you…?”
“I have to,” he said, his throat working as foreign energy slithered across my skin. “Dad said we have to leave tonight.”
“But you didn’t…?” I trailed off, not remembering what I wanted to say. The snakelike sensation writhed through me, confusing my intentions and my mind. I couldn’t tell reality from fiction, memory from trickery.
Was this all part of the game in my mind?
Zakkai, I recalled, thinking of the blinking lights and the web of power he’d tossed over me.
But then an image of him as a young boy flashed again, his eyes filled with tears as his father grabbed him by the shoulders and told him to be a man and finish it. Zakkai shook his head, refusing to lose his only friend. He kept saying he couldn’t do it, that he couldn’t make me forget.
Everything went white.
Then black.
And I blinked my eyes open to see his bedroom once more.
Silk sheets caressed my skin, the hint of the ocean teasing my senses.
Memories flooded my thoughts of summer nights with Zakkai, playing beneath the stars. Growing flowers for him to collect. Building toy castles out of small rocks. Chasing each other in endless games of tag. Magical games of earth blending with Quandary skills.
The final night played through my mind. The night when he bit me three times, then spelled me to forget him. He’d put blocks in place so I wouldn’t sense him, but he could feel me… and the pain that had followed.
Zakkai hadn’t wanted to finish it, but his father made him. The little boy had collapsed to the ground on a scream, the agony unlike any I’d ever witnessed.
My parents