The Remembered

by Michael J Sanford

  Wyatt picked up one of the small orbs and held it up to the moonlight. "Holy—"

  "What is it?" Ms. Abagail asked.

  "I don't know what the elves call them, but it's basically a smoke bomb."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah," he said with a smile. "Pretty nasty ones, too. We're lucky it didn't burst when whoever that was dropped it."

  "How is that going to help?"

  "No idea," Wyatt admitted. "But it means the elves are here. Which means Athena and Maia are, too."

  "And the rest of this stuff?"

  Wyatt looked over the other items. "Things to help Lucy?"

  "You're guessing?" Ms. Abagail said.

  "It's got to be. The smoke balls prove that much. And whoever that was called me 'Master,' and I swear I've heard that voice before, just can't place it."

  Wyatt gathered up what he took for medicinal supplies and crawled to Lucy. Ms. Abagail followed after and circled around to the other side of the small girl. Wyatt spread out the materials, trying to decide where to start.

  "The needle and thread must be for sewing her up, but I'm not sure what to do with the herbs and whatever this is," Wyatt said, holding up the glass vial of mysterious fluid. "I suppose the herbs should be put on the wound, but do we make Lucy drink this or—"

  "We don't know what any of that really is," Ms. Abagail said. "You could kill her. It could be some trick."

  Wyatt shook his head. "Can't be. Besides, if they wanted her dead, or any of us dead, they could easily have already killed us. There's an entire army up there. No, the Lord Regent just wants to torture us, like it's some sick game. But keeping us alive is going to be his mistake."

  Wyatt set aside the items and wrapped a hand around the arrow shaft protruding from Lucy's chest. She let out a weak groan, but didn't move.

  "You can't be serious," Ms. Abagail said.

  Wyatt looked up at her. "We have to try. I'm not going to just sit here and watch her die. And I'm not going to wait and rot away when my friends are out there, in trouble. And what about all those people in Sanctuary? No one can stand against the Regency for long. You said we were in this together, that we were a team."

  Ms. Abagail stared back and nodded. "We are. This is just so..." She shook her head and wrapped her hands around Wyatt's, curled around the arrow shaft. "Okay."

  Wyatt felt a sharp tingle travel from his hands throughout his body. "All right," he said. "We're just going to have to fly by faith here. First, we pull the arrow out, then we use what's in the vial to rinse out the wound, then stitch it closed and wrap the herbs over it."

  "You sure about that?" Ms. Abagail asked.

  "Not even a little bit."

  Ms. Abagail took a deep breath. "Okay. Step of faith."

  Wyatt nodded. "On three."

  "On three," Ms. Abagail repeated.

  "Three!"

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT HAD TAKEN most of the night, but Wyatt and Ms. Abagail managed to complete the impromptu surgery. Wyatt had been worried Lucy would wake, bolt upright, screaming, but she didn't. Even when they had yanked the arrow from her chest, she merely whimpered and tried to curl into a ball.

  "You should try and get some sleep," Ms. Abagail said.

  Wyatt and Ms. Abagail sat next to each other, propped up against the dirt wall. Lucy was lying on her back, her head resting on Wyatt's leg. He couldn't stop stroking her hair.

  "She's calmer when I brush her hair," he said.

  Wyatt still wasn't sure that what they had done would fix anything, but Lucy appeared to be on the mend. He had done as he thought best—rinsing out the wound with the strange fluid, and stitching up the small puncture wound—Ms. Abagail had done that part. And after the stitching, Wyatt covered the wound in the fragrant herbs and tied one of his pant legs around her shoulder to keep the poultice in place.

  "Are you cold?" Ms. Abagail asked.

  Wyatt glanced at his bare chest, the dark scar, and his torn pants. He shrugged.

  Ms. Abagail shimmied closer to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. She put her other hand on Lucy's forehead.

  "She's warm," she said.

  "She'll be all right," Wyatt said quickly.

  Ms. Abagail pulled Wyatt's head against the crook of her arm. Part of him wanted to resist, but he was weary and her embrace was warm. He leaned against her, still keeping an eye on Lucy, his fingers playing in her blonde locks.

  "This is quite the world you got yourself here," Ms. Abagail said after a bit.

  "It's your world, too," he said. "What...what was that back there? At the house. I know I said I wouldn't ask, but it was your memory, right?"

  Wyatt felt Ms. Abagail nod against the top of his head. "Yeah, but it wasn't one I'd forgotten."

  Wyatt thought that over a moment. "Well, whatever it was, I think you beat it. That's good. I think that's part of what we have to do."

  "What about you?"

  "What about me?"

  "What do you remember about the accident?" Ms. Abagail asked.

  Lucy moaned and turned her head to the side, eyes still pinched tightly shut in fitful slumber. Wyatt grabbed one of her hands in his and kept running his other over her head. Ms. Abagail was right—she was warm.

  "I know it's not very tactful to just ask," Ms. Abagail said. "But I think the time for subtlety is gone. If remembering can fix any of this, then you need to try."

  Lucy fell still once more and Wyatt exhaled. "I know. But I can't. I mean, I read the article future you gave me, or whatever."

  "I still don't understand that."

  "Anyway," Wyatt said. "I know what the article said and it did lead me to Lucy and got her to at least remember I'm her brother, but I don't actually remember any of it. Even what the Bad Man showed me back at Greenwood...it was more like a nightmare. I don't know what's real and what's not."

  "After what I've seen in the past day, I don't know what's real, either," Ms. Abagail said.

  "It's a mess, isn't it?"

  Ms. Abagail laughed. "We all got our crap."

  Before Wyatt could stop himself, he fell into a fit of tortured laughter. It was just too much. All of it was too much.

  After the laughter had run its course, it gave way to tears, and he buried his head against Ms. Abagail, sobbing. He wanted to stop. He didn't want Ms. Abagail to see him like that, and he had no time to weep, not with Lucy in such a dangerous state, but there was nothing he could do to halt the flow of bitter tears. Ms. Abagail said nothing, instead moving her hand to rub his back as it shook with each tumultuous sob.

  And when the tears dried up and the sorrow evaporated with them, Wyatt collapsed into Ms. Abagail's lap and slipped into a deep sleep.

  Something jarred Wyatt's body and tore him from his slumber.

  "Wyatt, wake up," Ms. Abagail was yelling over and over again.

  Wyatt rolled upright into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes and trying to shake loose the cobwebs from his mind. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so deeply. He couldn't remember dreaming, and he had no idea how long he had been out.

  He yawned and squinted at Ms. Abagail. She was pacing at as fast a pace as their tight prison allowed. He watched her for a moment. She turned a tight pirouette, saw he was awake, and stopped. She stared at him wide-eyed without saying anything.

  "What's your problem?" he asked as he climbed to his feet and spun in his own circle. He surveyed the earthen pit once, then twice. He spun around a third time, and when he stopped, his world continued to spin. "Where's Lucy?" he demanded.

  Ms. Abagail shook her head. "I don't know."

  "What do you mean? Did they come and take her while I was asleep? What happened?!"

  Ms. Abagail stomped her foot. "I don't know! I fell asleep too, and when I woke up..."

  Wyatt leaned against the dirt wall to steady himself. This can't be happening.

  "I can't lose her. I can't lose her!" Wyatt screamed into the dirt, punching it for good measure.

&n
bsp; He felt Ms. Abagail touch his shoulder, and he whirled, slapping her hand aside. He glared at her. "We have to find her."

  Ms. Abagail nodded.

  Wyatt turned his attention skyward, cupped his hands around his mouth, but didn't yell. The metal grate that had sealed them in the night before was gone. Nothing covered their prison pit. And beyond, where there had once been open sky, was now the dense canopy of a forest.

  "Oh no," he whispered.

  Ms. Abagail must have seen the same thing, for at the same moment, she cursed.

  "I don't think Lucy went anywhere," Wyatt said, still staring at what he didn't dare believe was there.

  "Then that means..."

  Wyatt nodded and looked back at Ms. Abagail. "We're the ones that went...somewhere."

  Ms. Abagail clasped a hand over her mouth. "Is this..."

  "Lucy must be dreaming...it's how she first used her power, long before I even met her. Remember on the roof? I thought that if we could get Lucy to dream, she could... I don't think she can control it very well in her dreams. Dreams are funny like that."

  "So where are we? And why isn't Lucy here?"

  "I don't know," Wyatt said as he turned to the dirt wall and dug a hand into the cool soil. "But we need to get out of here and figure it out so we can...get out of here."

  Wyatt reached up and created a second handhold. The dirt was hard-packed, and he held no illusion that it could hold him, but he had to try. And it was better than thinking about the fact that without Lucy with them Wyatt didn't know how they could possibly get out of...wherever they were. Wyatt no longer possessed even an ounce of power, and that limitation continued to haunt him.

  "All right," Ms. Abagail said.

  Wyatt felt her grab his lower body and help boost him upward. He kicked into the dirt, thankful he had put on boots that morning in Sanctuary, and began to climb. The surface was no more than a dozen feet overhead, but it felt like a thousand.

  Wyatt hugged the dirt as tightly as possible, but soon outstripped Ms. Abagail's reach. As soon as he felt her fingers drop away, he froze.

  "You can do it, Wyatt," Ms. Abagail said, moving to the side, into Wyatt's view.

  He didn't dare nod and hardly dared to speak, so he whispered, "You'll catch me when I fall, yeah?"

  Ms. Abagail smiled. "You won't fall." She turned and began her own ascent, securing two handholds and leaving the floor with more ease than Wyatt was capable of. In a matter of seconds, she was even with Wyatt. She jerked her chin upward. "You're not going to let me beat you to the top, are you?"

  Wyatt scowled and set to doing just that.

  He nearly fell a number of times, but managed to reach the surface, though long after Ms. Abagail had. He rolled away from the hole, covered in dirt and thoroughly winded. His muscles alternated between twitching and seizing up.

  Ms. Abagail knelt next to him. "Well, that wasn't so bad," she said, looking around. "I don't see anything. Just woods."

  Wyatt sat up and saw she was right—trees stretched as far he could see in all directions. The air was cool, but not cold, and smelled sweetly of autumn.

  "I think I've been here before..." he said slowly as he racked his mind to recall what had prompted the thought. Something about the way the air smelled and the color of the trees sparked a memory. No, not a memory...a memory of a memory... "Oh no."

  "You know I don't like it when you say that," Ms. Abagail said. She grabbed his hand and hauled him upright.

  "Lucy and I were here before. Back at Sanctuary. We thought it was a dream at first."

  "Well, you did say this was because of Lucy dreaming," Ms. Abagail said.

  "I know, but this isn't a dream. That's not how her power works. It's a memory. I told you all this before."

  Ms. Abagail nodded slowly, clearly trying to process the idea. "Right...oh, shit. So, this isn't either of our memories, is it?"

  Somewhere in the distance, Wyatt could hear the snapping of branches and the rustling of leaves. Then a small smudge of movement appeared, darting between trunks and barreling through the undergrowth.

  "No," Wyatt said as he began to run toward the distant shape. "It's Athena's."

  No matter how fast he ran, Wyatt couldn't catch up to the shape darting among the trees. It came and went as fast as he could blink, appearing in one spot only to flash in another and vanish again in the next blink.

  Ms. Abagail kept pace with Wyatt as he cut a haphazard path through the forest, darting off in a new direction each time he thought he caught a glimpse of the figure.

  "Wyatt, slow down," Ms. Abagail said. "What are you even chasing?"

  Wyatt shot a quick glance at her. She didn't even look out of breath, but Wyatt felt haggard in more ways than one. "It's Athena. I think. It was the first time." He turned his attention back to the forest, focusing on the task at hand. He couldn't think on the possibility of being trapped in a memory without Lucy to pull them out. He had to direct his energy on something more tangible. His mind couldn't tackle the abstract notion of traveling through memories, dreams, or even the Realms. He needed something concrete to ground him. And if he could find Athena—any version of her—and help her...maybe that would be enough.

  "There!" Wyatt shouted, peeling away from Ms. Abagail.

  He had seen it for just a moment, but it had looked closer, more refined. He was certain it was the shape of a person. A small girl, perhaps? Wyatt rounded a particularly wide tree and slid to a stop. The forest had abruptly ended, or Wyatt hadn't noticed the trees thinning. Either way, he stood at its border, looking out across an asphalt street and a row of storefronts. The ground trembled for a moment, just enough to let Wyatt know something had changed.

  "Holy crap," Ms. Abagail said.

  There were dozens of people milling about the sidewalk and parking lot on the other side of the street. His eyes darted about, hoping to see some version of Athena. Or anything recognizable.

  "Well, whatever this is," Ms. Abagail said,"I know where we are."

  "You do?" Wyatt asked in disbelief. There was something familiar about the scene, but he couldn't quite place it. It was as if he were looking at a reflection on the surface of rippling water, the image never lasting long enough to accurately see.

  Ms. Abagail jabbed a finger at the large store in the center of the strip mall. "I used to work there," she said. "For a bit after high school. M and G Toys."

  "I feel like I've been here before..."

  "You still think this is Athena's memory? Maybe it's another one of mine."

  Wyatt shook his head. "We already faced your memories. And besides, you can remember this."

  "Well, I could remember my mom too, but that didn't stop us from ending up there."

  Wyatt didn't respond. He knew she had him pinned. It could very well be her memory. For all Wyatt knew, they could be back on Earth in present day—no memory at all. But that didn't explain what he had chased through the forest to arrive at their current position. Or how quickly the forest had ended. He thought he heard the distant rumble of thunder. And he couldn't tear his eyes off the store Ms. Abagail had indicated.

  Without a word, Wyatt approached the street and continued across, not bothering to look for traffic. There was something just beyond the glass of M and G Toys that called to him. Just as the strange lamppost outside Ms. Abagail's house had subverted a piece of his free will, the store, too, commanded him forward. He was too far away to tell what could possibly be there, but some deeper part of his mind saw what his eyes could not. Is this my memory? he wondered. No, it can't be. It has to be Ms. Abagail's.

  "Wyatt!" Ms. Abagail shouted, grabbing his arm and yanking him forcefully back, just short of the double yellow line in the street.

  A minivan nearly brushed his nose as it zipped past Wyatt, horn blaring. It was enough to shock him from his stupor, but not enough to halt his jaunt across the street. However, he used far more urgency to get across.

  "Dammit, Wyatt," Ms. Abagail said, still clutching him a
t the elbow. "Even if this is a memory, or whatever, I don't think getting hit by a car is a good idea."

  Wyatt pulled his arm from her grasp and pointed at the toy store. "I've been there before," he said, and though he knew the words to be true, he didn't understand how or why.

  "And that helps us how?" Ms. Abagail said as they entered the crowded parking lot. The air was cold and snappy, cutting like frozen razors, but the sun was warm, leaving his body conflicted.

  "No idea," Wyatt admitted. "Call it a gut feeling."

  Just ahead of them, a young woman was loading bags into the back of a sedan. Ms. Abagail skipped ahead of Wyatt and approached the woman. "Excuse me," she said. "This is going to sound crazy..." The woman loaded the last bag and slammed the trunk shut. She spun around just as Ms. Abagail reached her. Neither had time to react, but only Ms. Abagail made an attempt to avoid the collision. The woman seemed not to notice her presence and stepped through Ms. Abagail. She circled around her car and got in.

  "Holy...shit..." Ms. Abagail said, hunched over, hands woven into her hair. She turned to Wyatt. "Did that just happen?"

  Wyatt shrugged. "At least we know we're in a memory." He continued walking toward the toy store.

  Ms. Abagail raced to catch up. Now she was out of breath. "Did you not see that woman walk right through me? Like I was a ghost? Or she was. Are you not just a little freaked out by that? Before...I interacted with my mom..."

  They had nearly reached the storefront, and though Wyatt could now see the towering window display, the sun's glare kept its contents hidden. "Just go with it," Wyatt said tersely. "When Lucy and I first went to Athena's memories, she couldn't see or hear us either. Maybe it is like a dream...we can only watch. Doesn't matter."

  "And you still have no idea how we get out?"

  Wyatt had grown to love Ms. Abagail, but in that moment, she was wearing his patience thin. He knew little more than she did, but admitting that fact wouldn't make her feel any better. All Wyatt was sure of was his need to reach the toy store. And even that impulse was beyond understanding.

  "All right, fine," Ms. Abagail said when Wyatt didn't reply. "I'll let it go. Nothing I've seen recently has made any sense, so why bother trying to explain this? Okay, let's go to good ol' M and G's."