I could sense Archer sitting beside me. He was trembling. I hadn't looked at him yet. My gaze was instead drawn to the large gaping hole in the room. I could see outside and to the street in front of me.
"My parents are going to be so pissed," Archer whispered.
A snort laugh escaped me.
A chuckle came from Archer before a stronger laugh. Within seconds, we were both clutching our stomachs, doubled over, and gasping for breath through our laughter.
"You blew a hole. In my house!" he said right before he coughed out another laugh.
"It's your fault," I wheezed. "What in the world were you thinking?"
"I wasn't," he said, which sent us both into fits of laughter again. "That was the problem."
"Your heating bill is going to be so high," I said, when I'd finally started to recover.
Archer collapsed back onto the bed, still snorting with laughter. "What are we going to tell my parents?"
"I dunno," I said as I fell back against the bed beside him. "Maybe the truth?"
We both sobered.
"You knew I was a princess, didn't you?"
"Yup," was all he offered.
"Your parents knew, too?"
"Yup."
"Did you know my parents were alive?"
I turned to face him. I studied his handsome profile, so intense and brooding. "I did not," he said. He turned his head and our faces were close. So close. "I never would have kept that from you if I'd known."
"How did you do that?"
"What?"
I waved my hand. "Send me back to that day."
Archer let out a soft breath. "It's a trick I can do. I use it sometimes when I want to remember things in my life. The good times. I realized I could send myself back there. Sort of like a hologram, but you get to experience things in a non-personal way. Sort of, I guess. You have the chance to see it from a different point of view. My parents don't know that I can do this." His eyes grew somber. "Please don't tell them?"
I reached down and hooked his pinky finger in mine. "Tell me the memory you visit the most," I said. "And I promise I'll never tell."
"Blackmail, Montreal? So you're a wicked queen instead of a benevolent one?"
"Being a queen means taking advantage of a situation to ensure the most gain."
Archer's eyes crinkled at the sides as he smiled at me. "I like it. Resourceful."
"Tell me."
"Ah Cassidy. Do I have to?"
"You do."
"I visit my brother," he said.
I went stone still. "Your brother?"
"He disappeared. Two years ago. He went to school and never came home. No leads. No one saw anything." He let out a sigh. "The day before he disappeared, he took me to do all the things I loved." He shifted away and turned his face up toward the ceiling. "It was almost like he knew.
"I go back to that day. I remember the sun on my face, the wind in my hair. He had this car. A 1967 Mustang my parents never wanted him to buy. But he saved every single penny he'd ever earned waiting tables down at the old steakhouse and soon enough he had enough to go buy it from Mr. Markett. He never let me ride in it. In some ways, he was a typical brother like that. But for only one day, I got to sit in the front seat and play with the radio. We drove down to the putt putt course and rode go-karts for hours. Then we went to the movies and he bought me the biggest popcorn on the menu." I continued to stare at him and watch as his eyes lost their focus and he became lost within his memories.
"I'm sorry, Archer."
He shook his head. "I just wish I knew what happened. Everyone liked him. We never found a trace of him. He was just... gone."
I squeezed his fingers. "Maybe he went somewhere else. Somewhere not on Earth."
"I thought about that. He was born here, though. He never once mentioned visiting the other land. Mom doesn't talk about it much and Dad never talks about it. As far as I know, there isn't anything over there for us."
I thought back to the salt sprayed air, the blue skies, and the apples so sweet it made your eyes water. "Maybe not," I said, trying not to get his hopes up. I didn't know how to get back home, so the odds of Archer's brother finding his way there seemed a little far-fetched, but I was beginning to believe anything was possible these days.
Especially since I'd just found out my parents probably didn't die.
"My mother was able to see me. Once she used her magic."
Archer grunted. "I'm not surprised. You can see a lot of things you aren't supposed to when magic gets involved."
"She knows I'm missing now instead of dead." I took my hand back and crossed both behind my head. "If I know anything about my mother, I know she will tear this world apart looking for me." I nudged him with my knee. "Why did you make me go through that tunnel?"
Archer's brow furrowed. "What tunnel?"
I stilled. "It was black. All I could hear were voices saying horrible things to me. And then my voice, telling me all the horrible things I'd buried inside of myself."
He winced. "I'm so sorry. I might have given your subconscious a little nudge. I wanted to wake up your magic not depress you."
"My subconscious is a terrible person."
"I think everyone's is. All those terrible lies we tell ourselves suddenly come out to play all at once."
"I believed them. For a little while," I admitted.
"But not anymore?"
I thought back to my mother's face when she saw me and how she rushed down to the room to get me. "Not anymore," I whispered. She loved me.
We were going to find each other again.
