Grasping at Eternity (The Kindrily) (12 page)

For a moment Harmony fell silent then she turned to face me. “For once in your lives, stop clinging to the old. Most ancient rules have been broken, or at least bent. Besides, I thought you were coming here to push the envelope. What happened to that plan?”

My stomach lurched like it had when Marcus first told me the story. Marcus knew of an Element who erased in the eighteenth century, but was reunited with his kindrily. “The circumstances were different, and his memories and ability never returned.”

“But he chose to retain after every lifetime since his erasure. And he’s still with his soul mate, right?”

I nodded.

“Can you imagine? Existing without your ability? Knowing what you once had, and watching everyone around you have exceptional gifts? How miserable.”

I shot her a sideways glare, waiting for her to realize that type of existence is precisely the only kind Maryah would ever live, but Harmony was focused on the star-filled sky.

“Still,” she said. “If we could ease Maryah into understanding our way of life then you two might have a fresh start.”

 
I didn’t want to start over, but it seemed the only way we could be together again.

“Of all people,” Harmony grunted. “I can’t believe someone outside of our kindrily convinced you to face Maryah. I also can’t believe you’ve found no trace of Dedrick.” Her pierced brow rose as she leaned across my armrest. “You
are
telling me the truth about not finding out anything, right?”

My thoughts sped by as fast as the yellow lines of the road. No trace of Dedrick existed anywhere in Liverpool, but I had discovered something about the Nefariouns. Something I didn’t want to accept as truth. Something so disheartening that I couldn’t tell anyone until it was confirmed. And even then, I’d need time to sort out a complicated plan.

“Nate?” Harmony snapped her fingers. “Earth to Nathan.”

“Sorry. I can’t get the look on Maryah’s face out of my mind.” It wasn’t a lie, and it served its purpose of changing the subject. “Even though it’s impossible, it did seem like she knew me.”

“If Faith is right, if she did recognize you, then maybe—and if you say it’s impossible again, I swear, I’ll punch you—she might have retained some things. Even a broken clock shows the correct time twice a day.”

Did Faith assess the situation correctly? Had Maryah felt love and recognition? Faith was rarely wrong in her analysis, yet how could she be correct? Maryah had been staying at the house for over a month and hadn’t uttered a word about any memories.

“There has to be a realistic explanation. Even Marcus agreed, retaining any memories would be imposs—”

Harmony clobbered me in the shoulder. “You of all people should know that anything is possible!” She folded her arms over her chest. “Gregory should’ve been there. He’d tell us whether or not she remembered.”

My soul ached at her words. We were approaching the two-decade mark since her soul mate had been taken by the Nefariouns. If I could trade places with Gregory so he and Harmony could be together again, I’d do so without hesitation. I’d give my own life if it spared Harmony from the pain she suffered.

She gazed out the passenger window again. Her eyes fixed upon Gregory’s star. “Do you think he’s okay?”

“Gregory’s star still burns. He
is
out there and we
will
find him.”

“Yes, but wherever he is, do you think he’s safe?”

 
“Neither you nor I know the answer to that, but as always, time will tell.”

“And time will heal,” she vowed firmly.

I pulled to the side of the road. “As you can imagine, the incident at the hotel was difficult for me. I’m asking you to grant me time to myself.”

“Louise will be upset if she finds out I left you alone.”

“I’ll speak with Louise and explain that I made a reasonable request, and you sympathetically respected it.”

“Are you sure you want to be alone?”

“Place yourself in my situation. What if it had been Gregory standing in that hotel lobby? Wouldn’t you want—wouldn’t you
need
time to yourself?”

“No. I would’ve never left his side—passed out or awake, memories or no memories. I would’ve stayed just as you should’ve stayed.” Harmony was the only soul I knew who could relate to my feelings.

“Forgive me. It's insensitive of me to keep mentioning Gregory, but you and I are different.”
 

“Different, but so similar.”

I nodded. Perhaps I should have stayed at the hotel and waited for Maryah to wake up, but running away had become my defense mechanism. “You’re welcome to take my car back to the hotel. I’ll be gone for a while.”

She held out her hand.

 
I placed my keys in her open palm then grabbed my boots and snowboard from the trunk. “Thank you for understanding. I’ll find you in the morning before the ascension. Please make sure Maryah gets sleep and eats something before seeing me tomorrow. I didn’t enjoy watching her crumble to the floor, and I don’t wish to see a repeat performance.”

Harmony chuckled. “Every entertainer deserves an encore.”

“Good night, Harmony.” I closed my eyes, imagining the summit marker at the top of the peak and recalled the exact magnetic frequency of my desired location. Opening every cell in my body, I attached my energy to a lunar flare and prepared to dissolve into the wave.

“Night, Nate. You know where I am if—”

I was standing atop the mountain before she finished her sentence.

At just over fourteen-thousand feet, Mount Massive lived up to its name. I threw my board down and prepared to ride the slopes until the shock of interacting with Maryah wore off. Which meant I was in for a long night.

∞

Our hotel bathroom served as an inconspicuous place for my return. Much to my relief, it was empty when I traversed, so I stripped out of my snow-covered clothes and took a quick shower.

I glanced at my phone: twelve unread text messages, three missed calls from Faith, and one from Louise. I tossed my phone into my knapsack, refusing to address the situation until later—much later.

I pushed open the bathroom door and discovered Shiloh still awake, sitting in the side chair of our room, working on choreography notes.

“Shiloh.” I nodded, greeting him quietly.

“Hey, Nate.”

I gathered a dry shirt and jeans while Dakota and Carson slept. A conversation about the incident with Maryah was inevitable, but I didn’t want to involve them. I finished getting dressed and turned to Shiloh.

“Shall we step outside?”

He pulled a wool cap over his braids and stood. “As you wish.”

Our first-floor room allowed us to exit through the patio door. We walked through the dark with no path to follow, but Shiloh’s gift of inherent night vision allowed him to guide us. I paused at a bench on the outskirts of the parking lot.

Shiloh looked back at me. “Nah, no way, just because
you
enjoy exposing yourself to extreme activities and temperatures doesn’t mean I have to suffer with you. We’re sitting in the truck where I can crank up the heat.”

I followed him, and for several minutes we sat in silence while the engine ran. He rubbed his hands together in front of the heating vents like they were a fireplace. I shot him an amused grin.

He shrugged. “Call it evolution, or call it being spoiled. I like my creature comforts.”

“Yes, you have always embraced the latest human advancements.”

“Dang skippy!” Shiloh danced in his seat then moments later his energy and smile dimmed. “So what’s up, Natty Bro?”

I glanced at the sky. “Stars, the moon, a few planets—”

“Don’t be cheeky. The quicker you give me info, the quicker we can be done with this and catch some Zs. If you would’ve answered your phone when Faith called, I could be chillin’ with the bed bugs right now.” Shiloh always embodied each of his personas with ease. I enjoyed having him and Faith so close this go-round.

“Don’t let me keep you.” I gestured at the heat vents which were making Shiloh’s truck feel like an oven. “You are free to chill, or roast, with the bed bugs whenever you desire.” He set the control to a lower flow. “I’m sorry you’ve had to wait up for me. What would you like to know?”

“What would
you
like to know?”

I paused, considering my answer. “Is she okay?”

“Do you mean did she wake up from her fainting spell? No, she’s in a magically induced sleep.” He added a dramatic flair to each word. “Only a kiss from her true love can break the spell.”

I played along. “No one warned her not to eat the apple?”

Shiloh erupted with laughter. “Nah, we assumed she
remembered
it was poisonous.”

“You know what they say about assuming.”

“Yes, I do, and yes, you are an ass. Seriously man, why’d you run off like that?”

 
My grin waned. “I couldn’t bear it. She’s so different. So empty.”

 
“But it’s still her. She’s just missing most of what made her the shining light we remember.”

I sighed at the memory of Maryah’s hollow eyes. “I hope you’re spared from ever enduring such torture.”

 
“I couldn’t do it. I don’t know how you’ve made it this long. I give you props.” He extended his fist to meet mine—one of his latest interpretations of a handshake. “But don’t you want to know what happened?”

“I figured it highly probable someone would tell me.”

“She woke up a few minutes after you left, all disoriented. Faith said she felt confusion at first, then embarrassment, and rightfully so.” Shiloh snickered. “Then it got weird. Louise asked her if she was okay and Maryah looked around the lobby. Faith felt panic. Maryah asked where Harmony went, and Louise told her she left with you. Maryah mumbled something under her breath. Faith thought it sounded like ‘he was real.’ Then Maryah’s excitement turned into confusion again. Is any of this making sense to you?”

“No.”

“Cool. Me neither. On we go. Faith and I helped Maryah to her room. Throughout the walk, Faith said she felt waves of excitement, confusion, and joy—in no particular order. When we got her to the room, we asked her why she fainted. Louise and Anthony were there too. Maryah kept looking at us all nervously. She concocted some excuse about eating bad food at dinner.”

“Perhaps that’s the truth.”

“Nah, Prince Charming, nobody had poisoned apples for dinner.” He shook his head. “That’s the kicker. As soon as Maryah said it was food, Faith felt
guilt
—guilt, Nathan!” Shiloh bounced up and down like he made the game-winning play of an important football match.

“Guilt,” I repeated flatly. “I don’t follow.”

“I know, neither did I until Faith broke it down for me. Maryah felt guilt when she blamed it on food. She felt guilty because she was lying. She’s hiding something.”

“What would she possibly be hiding?”

“That part we don’t know. Faith thinks Maryah has seen you before. She swears by her original assessment of love and recognition right before Sleeping Beauty passed out. Wait, or was it Snow White who did the apple thing? Not important. Wherever she saw you, she felt uncomfortable discussing it with anyone. She blamed her passing out episode on food. And what a terrible excuse. At least say lack of sleep or something more believable.”

Shiloh kept referencing it, yet he didn’t know his jokes could be the answer. My eyes gave my revelation away.

“What?” Shiloh asked. “One of those cartoon light bulbs just appeared above your head.”

“It’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible?”

“Sleeping Beauty, lack of sleep.” I looked at Shiloh with wide eyes. At first he showed no signs of understanding, then his jaw dropped, and his forehead lifted.

“She couldn’t possibly.”

“I know, but what if?” I could hardly think the words, much less believe them. “What if, by some obscure miracle, she still has her gift?”

“You think she’s still able to astral travel?”

“It would explain why she hasn’t said anything about seeing me the night of the attack, or during the fire.” I thought back to our first few lives, when we were learning how to use our abilities. For decades she believed she had to be asleep to travel. “She may have seen me, but assumed she was dreaming or hallucinating. There have been several occasions since she arrived in Sedona—always at night—when I felt someone watching me.”

Shiloh tugged at his braids. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

“It never occurred to me. As we’ve both stated, it’s impossible, or so we thought. What if she retained her ability; or it’s resurfacing?” The play by play of the evening led me to wonder if it could—by some miracle—be true.

“For the love of peanut butter!” Shiloh exclaimed. I squinted at him with bewilderment. “It’s a new Faithism—long story—some other time.”

I nodded. “It would explain the recognition.”

Shiloh inhaled through his teeth. “I feel like we’re jumping the gun. It doesn’t seem likely. What are the other explanations?”

“Surely you and Faith, along with the others, have been pondering that question all evening. You tell me, what other explanations have you come up with?”

Shiloh pursed his lips. “None.” He glanced around the truck. “Hey, do you think…?”

“She’s not here now. I would have sensed it.”

“Nate, this is crazy. What if it’s true? What if—” Shiloh’s eyes locked on the sky. “Harmony.”

“I’ve already thought what it could mean.” Only I didn’t want to think of where we might find Gregory even if Maryah could track him.

Shiloh crossed his hands in front of himself like an umpire calling a player safe. “Nah, that’s where it doesn’t add up. Maryah would have to
know
you to watch you. She’d have to
remember
you to track you. That’s not possible. Is it?”

I stared at him, processing his words. He was right. She’d need to picture me clearly in her mind, not my face—that was of no importance—but she’d have to envision my eyes in great detail—the way only Elements can see each other. I raised my defeated glance to meet Shiloh’s. “You’re right. She wouldn’t be able to see the intricacies of our eyes anymore. Not after an erasure.”