long dark peasant gown that I didn’t recognize but I knew her in an instant. It was my mother. I watched as past-mom sat down beside miniature-past-me and past-me scooted in real close. And then I saw the baby bundled in her arms.
My eyes watered. My lungs burned. Cyrus. Cyrus Proctor. My little brother. Mother hadn’t joined the Crones yet, she was still young and a brand-new mother again. Even though this moment happened over three centuries ago, seeing it filled my heart with peace. Warmth filled my veins. Mom had moved on, she’d found joy after losing me and Uncle Leyka. I had known this, I remembered her visiting me those first few decades but time had a funny way of dulling memories when you didn’t even realize it. I wasn’t allowed to tell her about visiting me in the letter I just sent with Pierre, but it didn’t matter. She was going to find out soon enough.
Tears spilled onto my cheeks as I watched. I remembered Cyrus, even though I had not thought of him in a long, long time. Mom used to bring him with her to visit me…and then he would come alone once she became a Crone. I just wanted to see his little baby face one more time so I stepped forward and everything changed.
The trees were taller and fuller. The moon above now a golden crescent. There was a bench made out of wood that we used to sit on. My mother was there, except she was older now. Her black hair hung flat and those silver eyes were more dull. She had wrinkles in her face and hands. Beside her, Cyrus was young and thriving in his early twenties. His black hair was down to his shoulders and his silver eyes perfectly matched Mom’s.
The only thing that hadn’t changed…was me.
My jaw dropped. My chest tightened.
I remembered this night. It was October 1718. Mom and Cyrus came to tell me she would be joining the Crones soon. This night was one of her last visits. A hot lump formed in my throat.
Past-mom pulled past-me in for a hug so tight I felt the ghost of it on my arms. Then she stepped back and cupped my little face. “Tegan and Tennessee will be coming for you soon enough.”
“It is 1718, mother. They do not know of me until 2018,” past-me grumbled. “That is still three centuries away.”
No. Please. I closed my eyes and shook my head. Make it stop. I didn’t want to see this. My heart hurt enough. I cried out and leapt back in the direction I’d come from — and landed beside a river. Olli squirmed in my arms but there was no way in hell I was sitting him down.
Something flew over my head. I flinched and ducked down – but it was just me.
Again.
Where am I NOW? Why is this happening?
I watched as past-me flew down to the riverbank on the other side, my little pink wings flapping away. I watched myself land at the edge of the water…and then a boy emerged from the river. A boy with long black hair and deeply tanned skin. My heart fluttered. It was my old friend. The boy from the local tribe that Cyrus had introduced to me. Ray. I used to call him Ray, because he was a ray of sunshine in the darkness of my life. I remembered he’d reminded me of Tennessee back then. I had adored Ray. He’d been a good friend of mine for many years.
How did I forget about Ray? It’d been so long, so many years in between.
I adjusted my grip on Olli and hurried to the river. I wanted to see him, to hear his voice, but when I stepped into the river…my feet landed back inside the tunnel. The green vines hissed and moved under my feet.
“NO! No. Dammit,” I cried and fresh tears stung my eyes.
Prince Thorne was leaning against the wall with his legs crossed at the ankles and his hands shoved in his purple coat pockets.
I turned to face him and screamed. “WHY? Why are you doing this to me? What do you want from me?”
He cocked his head to the side, and before I could even change my course light flashed in my eyes…and the tunnel vanished.
No, please. No more. I can’t take this. I knew the fae were sick and twisted, but this was cruel. This was heartless…this was torture.
I sighed and shook my head. I