Memory's Wake - Book One of the Memory's Wake Trilogy

Chapter 3

She had looked at him as if he were some kind of animal. Worse. A monster. The terror in her eyes crushed his heart, as though the rockslide that closed the cave entrance had also fallen on it.

He had waited for her for so long. He ran the moment he heard the noise, that same gusting howl he remembered from his first night in this world, coming from the very same spot. The night he would never forget. Just how long had it been? The years felt longer for being unable to count them, but shorter for his time spent with the fae. So long, lost in that forest, doubting he’d ever see her again, that his memories of her were even real. But here she was, looking just the same. Same age, same hair, same clothes, even the same bruises as the day he had lost her. He no longer doubted.

The dust from the rockslide cleared and the hunting men who had chased the girls still surrounded him. Them and the dragon. It circled above, waiting for something. To give the men their next order? He shifted his eyes upwards uneasily. He’d never seen a dragon before. They were legendary, even to the fae he knew, and scarce.

 The men coughed and swore, wiping dirt from their eyes. They looked at him, wondering how he fitted into their chase, turning to their leader for guidance. He’d been mistaken as an animal by hunters before. He didn’t like hunters. A growl rumbled from his throat.

If it hadn’t been for him, those men would have caught her. He would not let anyone hurt her again. Not now that he was stronger. Getting out of this corner himself mightn’t be so easy, but he had the advantage. This was his forest.

He sized up each of the men, picking the weakest of the herd. That bald one, who stood there puffing with a little too much weight and already winded from the chase. He sprang at the man without warning. Landing on his rounded shoulders with both feet, he pushed off, using the man’s height to launch higher. He burst through a spray of leaves and wrapped a hand onto a thick branch, swinging himself up onto another. Behind him the men milled about, delayed by confusion, too busy yelling at each other over their lost prey.

Their voices grew dim behind him. He ran across branches as though they were solid ground.

His mind raced even faster. Why didn’t she recognize me? Have I changed that much? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a mirror. That sort of thing lost its meaning out here in the woods, until today. Seeing her again made him think of things he hadn’t thought of for half a lifetime. Things like mirrors, showers, soap.

The hunters were far behind by the time he slowed and dropped back to the forest floor. He brought his hands up in front of his face. Black earth and muck painted his pale skin. He picked up his pace again, heading to the nearest stream.

He stopped abruptly. He wasn’t thinking straight. He’d finally found her again, and lost her within the same moment. Washing could wait. He had to go after her, and he would need help.

“Mina?” He didn’t call loudly. She always heard him anyway. It was up to her if she came or not. He knelt down on a patch of moss between the vast trees and lichen-covered boulders, preparing himself to wait for her arrival.

“You didn’t have to call me. We’re already here.” She giggled behind him, her voice more familiar to him than his own.

He stood back up and turned to see Mina, accompanied by a large host of other fairies. No matter how often he saw them, he never got over the sight of the fae. It made his heart ache and beat faster just to be in their presence. He’d learned names for some of the forms of fae he had seen in his life here. Piskies, elves, sprites, fairies, gnomes, names he knew from the myths of his childhood. Mina would have been a sprite. Her true form was tiny, glowing, a dazzling flicker of sparkling light. But he knew she could take other forms, as could most of the seelie fae. Despite their names, their categories, they were each unique, changeable and perfect.