“I don’t even know if Ihavepieces,” I whispered. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“You’re mine,” he said without hesitation. “That’s who you are.”
My throat closed. I looked away. Myccael was standing with Zavahr now, peering down into a cracked box on the wall. He looked so composed. So sharp. And so impossibly distant.
“He doesn’t want me anymore,” I murmured, mostly to myself. “Not after what just happened.”
“He’s afraid,” Mallack said simply. “I made mistakes with him. I led him to believe he was unwanted… " pain returned to his sharp features, and an urge grew in me to touch him, to cradlehis face in my palm and take all the hurt from him to assure him I was here for him too. "…we've been mending our relationship, but it's not easy. And now you're back and…"
"Rejected him." I closed my eyes and cursed myself.
"Ney," Mallack protested, but we both knew it was the truth.
"I'll talk to him. Later," I promised, to myself and him.
Later came sooner than I had anticipated. We went back to the surface, had some dinner, and after, I decided to climb the large overhang that overlooked the river Pyme to stretch my legs. Mallack offered to come, but I could see that Kavryn and Tovahr wanted to talk to him, so I declined his offer. The spot I was aiming for was inside the well-protected camp, and Mallack grudgingly agreed.
"Stay within sight," he gruffly ordered.
His deep tone ran down my back like honey and stirred up a storm of frill flies—dragonflies—in my stomach. Something about this male drew me to him like a magnet.
"I promise," I smiled up at him and noticed his features relax.
With that, I lifted my cumbersome skirt and began to walk up the steep incline. Hundreds of feet before me had trodden and worn a path into the soil, making it easier to navigate. By the time I reached the crest, my legs were aching, and my breathing came out labored. But I felt good. Exhilarated. Even more so when I stepped to the overhang and took in my surroundings.Night was approaching, but the last rays of the Ruunum sun brought enough light that I could see for thousands of paces.
The Pyme River glittered below, winding its way through the land like a trail of molten silver kissed by the sun. On the other side, the forest spread wide and deep, its canopy a tapestry of dusky blues and violets, made even richer by the golden-pink light bleeding across the horizon.
Birds danced in the air, tiny black silhouettes carving lazy paths through the fading light. The lower ones skimmed the treetops. The higher ones soared like whispers against the sky. I watched one large winged creature wheel far above the others, and something primal stirred in me—recognition, maybe. Or longing. Longing to be as free and agile, unburdened by worries and loss that I had no memories of.
The mountains loomed beyond, dark and immovable, their jagged crowns veiled in clouds that shimmered like silk caught in firelight. The sun had sunk low, casting long shadows that reached like fingers across the valley floor. Everything below looked ancient. Still. As if the world was holding its breath.
There was something about the shape of the river. The scent of pine and shadow in the air. The call of a bird I couldn’t name. It all felt familiar in a way that scraped against the inside of my mind. Had I stood here before? Zyn. Most assuredly. I didn't remember, but I’d been mated to a vissigroth for many rotations. I was certain he had brought me to this place before, and I knew that when he had, I would have climbed up here, just like I did today.
It was disconcerting, standing here, not having any memories of having been here before, but sensing I had. Looking at the river, sure I had seen it many times before like this, but also seeing itfor the first time. It made me feel… bereft. Not bitter, but hollow. I imagined that this must be what it felt like after losing a limb. Seeing it there, feeling it, but not being able to touch it, because it was gone.
I hugged myself. I was like a book filled with a story written in invisible ink. Knowing the story was there, but unable to read it.
Way down below, I could see Mallack standing with the other Leanders and a few humans engaged in an animated discussion. Probably talking about the Zuten and the place they had discovered. Thinking about the Zuten put my plight into a different light. I was just one person who had forgotten about herself, but I had others to remind me of who I used to be. The Zuten, however, had been an entire civilization, spanning the Fourteen Planets, or a good portion of it, just to have fallen into the oblivion of time. Funny how things could be put in perspective if you looked at the bigger picture.
Something moved up the path, a male. I squinted, but it was getting darker and harder to see. It wasn't Mallack; he was still talking to the others. Curious, I kept my eye on the male and, as I came closer, I recognized Myccael. When he was close enough, I walked over and embraced him, fully. The way I should have done earlier.
"I'm sorry."
He seemed confused; his hands moved up and down my arms as if unsure of what to do. He was so tall and wide, even without a memory of it, that it was hard to imagine him as a little boy.
"For everything," I said before my courage could leave me, "for not having been there for you when I should have, for not having been the mother you deserved, and for earlier. Not hugging youthe way a mother should have hugged her son. I was surprised, and this…" I drifted off, not wanting to excuse my poor behavior with my lack of memory.
His arms moved around me, and he held me tight. "You have nothing to apologize for. You were an incredible mother to me, especially given the circumstances."
His words warmed me, but I was sure I didn't deserve them. "I will make up for it, if you allow me."
"You don't have anything to make up for… Mother," he looked at me questioningly, and I nodded. I liked him calling me that. "Not one thing. But I like the idea of getting to know you better."
"Me too," I smiled, and we let go, but our hands gravitated to each other, and something about us having our fingers entwined like this stirred something in the deep recesses of my brain. Not a memory, because I was sure the last time Myccael and I held hands like this, his had been a whole lot smaller than mine, whereas now, mine was swallowed up by his. It was more of a sensation. A warmth that sparked low in my chest and spread outward. Steadily, like a hearth catching fire after too many cold nights. It wasn’t recognition. But it was something. A beginning, maybe. A thread tying us together not through memory, but through something deeper.
We stood for a moment in silence before he spoke again, "I still can't believe that you're here. Alive."
A wry smile tugged at the corners of my lips, and I closed my eyes. What I was about to say I hadn't admitted to anyone, not to Mallack, not to myself, but the words came anyway, unspooling in a quiet, shaky breath. “I can’t believe it either.”
