Page 41 of These Fractured Bonds

That meant she had lost almost three years’ worth of memories about him. Something about that hurt. Her next question came slower.

“You know what I’ve been curious about?”

He shook his head.

“Izmari is under a travel ban, so how did I meet you—a Fae—at school?”

A sigh escaped him, and she watched the movement in rapt fascination. It had begun as a breath that tensed his chest, and then, an exhale that relaxed his muscles in a domino fashion. And while it was true that the action had been utterly human—not aligned with his perpetual frosty behavior—she couldn’t deny her fixation had mostly been about how good it had looked.Tall men with pecs, she amended her previous determination.

He spoke, dragging her away from herunrelatedthoughts. “Despite the Prohibition Decree, the Fae Queen allows a very limited number of visas. In addition to monitoring the portals between the worlds, we act as a sort of authority in the human world, stepping in to stop any rampaging creature or being on rare occasions.”

“So, you were given a visa?”

“Of sorts. It’d be more accurate to say I oversaw the portal located in your city.”

Yareli sat with that information for a little bit. Although he had answered her questions, she didn’t feel any closer to knowinghim. She pivoted.

“What about here? What do you do here?”

“I’m the First General of the Water Court.”

“You’re strong then.” She mulled that over. “And important.”

He didn’t respond. Curious, she watched his face in the fire’s light, observed how quickly he staunched any feelings thatsparked in his eyes, and she wondered if there would ever be a time when she didn’t have to play the guessing game with him—a day when he would be open with her. The thought drained her. Between the whiplash of Leo’s behavior and August’s emotional demand, she was ready to call it a day. Judging that he would not answer, she finished her soup and excused herself to bed.

He spoke softly, almost as though he wished for the crackling wood to eat his words and burn them as fuel before Yareli could hear. But she heard them anyway.

“I’m not as important as I’d hoped I’d be.”

She didn’t stop walking, giving him the false illusion he desired—that she had not heard. She realized, however, that despite his coldness, he had never denied her an answer. His behavior wasn’t true coldness; it was distant. He was distancing himself.

Yareli looked at him from over her shoulder; his form, hunched over his forgotten bowl of soup, looked forlorn like a statue of a sitting angel—alone on a pedestal thatshecouldn’t reach. A widening abyss had sprung between them; the bridge, constructed from three years’ worth of friendship, had vanished, destroyed at Tuom’s hands. She hesitated; something told her that as long as her memories remained out of her grasp, she wouldn’t melt his defenses and close the gap between them. She grabbed the pouch with Erick’s herbs and marched back.

“Heat me some water.”

He was startled, but did as she said. Soon enough, she had steeped the tea and, pinching her nose at the smell, she downed it. She would reclaim her life, one memory at a time. Until only Tuom’s death remained. Then, and only then, would her life be hers once more.

Chapter 16

TheHrethMountains,thelongest mountain range in Izmari, extended from the Air Court’s innermost point to the Sea of Reiwen. Jagged peaks fragmented the sky, slate-gray stone erupted from the ground like the sharp teeth of a wolf, and the thick, obsidian trunks of its forests painted an impressive, albeit eerie, picture. Amongst the giants, Mount Fuhreth dwarfed the rest, its rounded summit lost to the soft clouds in the sky. The ancient creature Yareli sought was imprisoned inside one of its caves.

In the bygone days when Fae lived amongst humans, the Curse Eater had preyed upon both. A terrifying, seemingly immortal hunter—its name long lost to history—was obsessive in its pursuit, hunting its victim across land and sea. Fae of old had attempted and failed to eradicate it, ultimately sealing the Curse Eater on Mount Fuhreth. In more recent centuries, it was sought out for breaking unwanted, difficult curses, adopting its current moniker—Curse Eater.

However, making the trek was arduous, lending to its reputation—only the desperate and powerful would pay a visit to the spine-chilling creature in the tales told to Fae children. Despite August shadowstepping them to Fuhreth's ward boundaries, it was still a four-hour trip one-way by foot. Two hours into the hike, Yareli had half the mind to ask him to give her a piggyback ride for the remaining stretch. It didn’t help that her head throbbed worse than usual.Recovery wasn’t always painless, she reminded herself. She pushed through the burning in her upper quads one step at a time while she listened to August’s lecture.

He explained, “The Curse Eater will want something in return for its services. Do not bargain with it. It will tell you what it wants, but do not accept any terms that involve future fulfillments or vague payments with body parts.”

“So, if I can’t bargain with it, what kind of payments are acceptable?”

“Good question. I don’t know. Its whims are not understood.”

Yareli stopped, glaring daggers at his back as her mood worsened. She rubbed her temple; her head felt like it was being assaulted with an iron pan.

“Okay, this seems a little stupid now. I’m supposed to enter the cave alone—a cave with an ancient, magical creature who happens to love human flesh—and trust it won’t kill me right away?”

“When you put it that way, the odds do seem terrible.”

“Then, why are we doing this!”