Chapter 3

3

R hi

Through the haze of bad memories, I see a small ball of golden light hovering inches above my nose and behind it, Stone’s face, his brow furrowed, his light blue eyes intense.

“What is it?” I say with gritted teeth as the dark memories threaten to drag me into their midst.

“A memory,” he says, from what sounds like far, far away. “Someone else’s memory in your mind.”

It takes me a moment to process his words, my attention diverted by the black clouds swirling in my mind.

“This is what we need, Rhi,” he says, squeezing my hand. “The rest doesn’t matter. You can let them go. Lock them away again.”

But is that the right thing to do? These memories are dark and terrifying, but over the last few weeks, I’ve faced many dark and terrifying things. These memories don’t seem nearly as bad as they once did, not in comparison. I am no longer afraid of them. They are a part of me. They are my history. They have made me who I am as much as the good and the happy memories have. Hiding them away, refusing to acknowledge their existence, doesn’t seem right anymore.

I have to accept them, accept who I am. As soon as I make this realization, they don’t seem to have the power they once did. They sink back down into my mind, dissolving away with the other memories residing in my head – and I focus back up at that strange golden ball.

“Can you tell who put it there?” Azlan asks from the end of the bed as I watch the ball spin, its surface shifting like drifting clouds.

“No, I don’t think we will know that until Rhi looks inside. Something I think Rhi ought to do in private.” My eyes flick away from the golden ball and to Stone instead. “It was put there for you, sweetheart, and we don’t know why.”

“I don’t think we should have secrets from each other,” I say. “They’ve only caused us harm.”

“Perhaps,” Azlan says, “but Phoenix is right–”

“He actually admits it for once,” Stone mutters.

“–this is yours, something personal. Something you ought to look at alone. You can tell us afterwards what’s inside.”

“What if it’s something bad?” Renzo says, eyeing the ball with mistrust.

“It’s okay, I can handle it,” I tell him, because I know I can. Hell, if I can handle Renzo, I can probably handle just about anything.

Carefully, I roll up to sit, the ball continuing to hover right in front of my face.

“How do I open it?” I ask Stone .

“Just allow it into your mind.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Come find us afterwards.” Then he ushers the others out of the room, practically shoving Renzo through the doorway, the assassin continuing to stare at the strange ball menacingly until the door slams shut.

And then I’m alone and I suddenly don’t feel so brave without those five strong men around me. I remind myself that I was alone for a long time before they showed up and I survived just fine. Plus, despite what Renzo may think, I am with Stone on this one. I think this memory is here to help me.

I cross my legs and focus my eyes on the shimmering gold, allowing the memory to drift into my mind, until the gold is shining somewhere inside my head, lighting it up with its brightness. But as quickly as it gleams, it fades and in its place is my aunt’s face, staring back at me.

She’s younger than she was, her fair hair braided around her head, the locket resting against her clavicle, fewer lines on her pale skin.

“Rhi,” she says. And I’d forgotten how much I’d missed her voice, even though I’ve heard it so many times in my memories, in moments where I forget. Now I’m hearing it again, the soft yet firm tone of her voice; it has a sob catching in my throat.

“Aunty,” I whisper. But she can’t hear me. She isn’t really here. This is a memory, a recording, a message from the past. And I realize I’m not looking into her face, I’m looking at her reflection.

“Darling, Rhi.” She smiles and I remember that smile. Like a reward. Always forthcoming when I’d done something to make her proud.

I bunch my hands in the bed sheets. I can feel my body shaking. She has something to tell me and what if I don’t like it? What if Renzo’s correct and it isn’t something I want to hear?

“If you’re watching this now, then you are as bright, as tenacious, as wonderful as I always suspected.” The smile falters, her voice cracking slightly as she speaks. “And I am no longer here to help you, my darling. I’m sorry. Sorry if I let you down, sorry I can’t be there with you. And I am sorry that there are things I kept hidden from you when I was there with you. Know I did it for your safety. Everything I’ve ever done was to keep you from harm.” She nods, composing herself. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

She swallows and then she tells me about my mom, about how she was a talented seer who dreamed of the future, of how those in power learned of her gift and took her away from her family, of how they used her in their ongoing battles for power and dominance. I know all this – from the pieces I’ve puzzled together, it’s nothing new – and yet I sit there entranced, listening to my aunt tell the story, reading the pain on her face when she describes how my mom was torn away from those she loved, how she was used and abused.

And then my aunt turns to the subject of me.

“Rhi,” she says, “your mom was a powerful weapon, and I guess it was inevitable that the fight would turn eventually to possessing that weapon.” She meets my eyes through time and through space. “Bronwyn was taken by forces from the West – kidnapped. She fell in love with your father while she was being held there. She had you and for a time they were happy together. But it didn’t last, and all I know is that she reappeared on my doorstep with you in her arms and begged me to take you. To keep you hidden from everyone – the authorities, the chancellor, even your father. ”

My aunt is quiet as if she foretold I’d need a moment to gather my thoughts, to process this all.

My dad was a magical from the West. I was conceived while my mom was being held captive there, and then she fled with me.

I think of what Renzo told me, of who he believes my dad to be. Is that right? Did my mom fall for the Black Prince? And if she did, why did she leave him? Why did she beg my aunt to keep me hidden?

“Your mom loved you so very much, Rhi,” my aunt continues, and a lone tear trickles down her cheek. “And I love you too, my darling, as if you were my own. You are so very precious, so perfect, so wonderful. It breaks my heart every day that she didn’t get the opportunity to see the amazing person you’re turning out to be. But I know she’d be proud of you, just as I am.”

She reaches out to touch the plane of the mirror, her reflected hand coming to meet it so that her fingers touch their twin, but it’s me she’s reaching out to touch, to tuck my hair behind my ear like she always used to do and stroke my cheek.

“Wherever you are now, my darling, whatever it is you’re doing, know you are your mother’s daughter, my daughter too. You are enough, you are strong. You are loved.”

I think that will be it. That she’s told me everything there is for me to know, that the memory will fade and I’ll be left here alone on the bed.

It doesn’t.

She fixes me with her steely gaze.

“Rhi, there’s more. Bronwyn had a vision about you, about your future.”

I sit up a little straighter on the bed. This is it. The truth. Something, if I’m honest with myself, I’ve suspected right from the moment I learned my mom could read the future.

“You are the girl from the Fourth Prophecy, Rhianna. Your mother foresaw it.”

I stare at my aunt’s face. I don’t know what that means.

“I had to keep you safe, my darling, protect you. Because Bronwyn was right: they came looking for you. She said they would. That some would want to destroy you and some would want to use your powers for their own means. It’s why I hid you away and it’s why …” she leans closer to the mirror as if she wants to whisper the next part to me, “your dreams, Rhi, they didn’t simply stop, I stopped them. I suppressed your powers. Please forgive me, but they tormented you so much, and you were so young, so frightened by them. They were such a danger to you. I found a way, and I stopped them.”

I stare at her, thinking of all those years I never dreamed, how they plagued me when I was little and then they’d stopped, just like that. I never questioned it before. How strange that was. To never dream. No dreams at all, not until recently, not until the last few days. Then I’d had those dreams that offered me a glimpse of the future.

And then I know, before she says the words, before she tells me the truth.

I know.

Pip.

My dreams came back when Pip was unwell.

Pip.

I hadn’t even noticed he was here in the room with me, because he always is, always by my side, my ever faithful companion. He stares at me from the end of the bed, head raised, clever eyes observing me.

And I know .

“Pip,” I say as the woman in the memory playing out inside my head says his name too. Both of us saying his name together.

His snout wrinkles.

“I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that he is no ordinary pig.” She smiles at me and through her face I see the outline of my ever dependable pet. “Pip is your familiar. He’s here to help you, Rhianna. Here to stop your dreams. To …” she hesitates, “repress that darker magic I sense running through your veins. He’s here until you need him. Here to help protect you. But …” The smile slides off her face and a sense of unease brews in my stomach.

I shake my head. I don’t know what’s coming next, and yet I sense I am not going to like it. I shake my head in frustration.

“One day,” my aunt continues, “there’s going to come a time – a time when you’re ready to meet the destiny your mother foretold, when you’ll need to call on all your powers – and then you’ll need to let him go. To let all of us go.” I stare at her, dazed. “Rhianna, the only way to release your full powers, will be to let Pip go.”

I shift my gaze to my faithful, dependable pet, sitting there watching me.

There are a lot of things I am willing to do, that I am prepared to risk or sacrifice. Bonding with five men. Flying on the back of a dragon. Fighting magicals far more powerful than I am.

But give Pip up?

Never.

I’m never going to do that. And frankly, I can’t see why I’d ever need to. I’m already stronger than I was. With each bonding to one of my fated mates, the magic in my veins has soared. I don’t need any more magic. I don’t need the ability to see the future. I need Pip.

My aunt’s still talking but I don’t hear any more of the words. Instead, I reach for Pip and drag him onto my lap, snuggling my face against the top of his soft head as he squeaks at me.

How did I never see it? How did I never realize?

A pig that never ages. Who seems to understand me. Who’s there whenever I need him.

The answers were there right in front of my very nose the entire time.

“It’s okay,” I tell him. “It’s okay. I won’t ever let you go.”

A sudden anger flares through my stomach. How could she even suggest such a thing? She left me. So did my mom. My dad. All the people who should have been here to care for and protect me – all those who were meant to love me. Not Pip. He’s been here through thick and thin. The only one I’ve ever been able to depend on.

The anger grows. Why did she make this all so hard? Secret memories in my head? Lockets that could have protected me? Knives with secret histories? She could have told me all this. Face to face. Let me ask all my questions.

She didn’t. She left me struggling and all alone, barely hanging on.

A voice in my head protests. The illness took her suddenly. She had no time.

But I don’t care. There was plenty of time. All those years together, all those long, lonely nights. And she chose never to tell me a thing.