Forgotten

by Sarah J. Pepper

  “You can’t utter a word out loud, because the –”

  Scavengers. The word echoed in my mind, and then he rattled off a mess of words I couldn’t understand. It sounded like he was cursing about someone. He instigated our pace – detouring off the sidewalk and into a back yard. After a few moments passed, he said, “Analee forbade us to speak their name long ago.”

  “Who taught you the language, and how is it even possible for you to speak telepathically?”

  “This gift?” Jace asked. “Not all of us could speak telepathically like the Prophet, until a generous person granted us the ability.”

  He squeezed my hand like it’d come from me. Half a dozen questions spewed from my mouth – How had the gift come from me? Had I blacked out entire years of my life and done all these things, lived this magical life the other deities were accusing me of?

  “Dearest, it happened too many sunsets ago to count. If you want to know more about this blessing, ask your good friend Marco.”

  My friend, Marco? He wasn’t my friend. Taking my vision into consideration – the one where I held a knife at him – I sincerely doubted we had ever been friends, or would become buddies.

  “You don’t trust Marco,” he said, guiding me along a fence.

  “Nope,” I said as he stopped our pace.

  He let go of my hand only to slowly and quietly fiddle with the gate’s latch. I slipped through; he followed and just as quietly closed it. He reached for my hand, and then we continued through another back yard.

  “I don’t trust people I’ve only known for a few weeks.”

  Jace led me off the sidewalk, across the street, and onto the side walk. “Yet your conviction about me has changed.”

  I laughed. “We have an agreement – we’re partners in crime now. It’s different.”

  It was his turn to chuckle. I loved the sound of his laugh! My hand tingled in his. I didn’t know if it was an unconscious movement or if he enjoyed tracing his thumb over mine, but it was extremely soothing.

  He stopped me just as a light flared to our side – illuminating the surroundings. A light sensor had detected our movement. A dog started barking insanely; a bedroom light turned on a second later. Yelling about ‘a damn raccoon’ resonated from the house. I knew I should have run. However, my flight or fight reaction button must have been broken, because I simply froze. Before I could protest, Jace swept me into his arms and took off running. He leaped over the fence on the other side of the yard and didn’t stop until two yards later. Both were light sensor and dog free.

  I draped my arm around his neck. My body warmed, and I watched his reaction when it hit him. I don’t know how– I just knew that he noticed I was enjoying his touch. Clutching him, I almost let my hands explore. I’d be damned if his chest wasn’t chiseled from stone. That he had to concentrate on breathing normally made me grin until it he replied verbally with his own urges.

  “I’m not going to need much convincing to abort tonight’s fiasco if you keep nuzzling into me, Gwyneth.”

  “What happened to you and Deino?” I asked, changing the subject. How would he feel about me when he figured out I wasn’t his lost love?

  Rather than answering, Jace stopped. He turned me in his arms so I faced a house - like any other house, except this one, used to be mine. The lights were off; the house was empty. He analyzed the situation before he approached a window.

  “The windows were not altered during the remodel. Is this the window they entered?” he asked.

  “How am I supposed to know?”

  He refused to comment and moved on to the next window. I couldn’t help to notice that he held me tighter. A night light shone through the next window. I shook my head before he asked if this was the window used. I didn’t know how I knew - I just did. Jace said nothing, but carried me to the next. He kept a solid grip on me. When he got close to the window, my stomach began to tighten.

  “Which one of these windows offers the most concealment?”

  “The first one,” Jace answered and lowered me to the ground. “This window led to your parents’ bedroom. It’s a bathroom now.”

  “You’re trusting me to pick the window, even thought I can’t see?” I said.

  “You see what others can’t.”

  “Like what?”

  “The past,” Jace said. “The Chronicler used to have the ability to see other’s memories, their past. We all leave parts of ourselves everywhere we touch, like DNA, but on a metaphysical level. I always suspected that she could sense that.”

  Without giving me time to absorb what he’d just said, Jace pulled himself through the window first, positioned himself, and then reached down for me. His handhold was tight, pulling me upward through the window. Keeping his voice just above a whisper, he gave me a quick tour of the house. I instructed him to make sure I didn’t walk into anything - which would inevitably cause a ruckus. He agreed without making any snide remarks about my asking for assistance. He watched me with such intensity; it made it difficult to concentrate on my surroundings.

  He’d been here at least once to investigate the place himself. So, either he noticed something and wanted to see if I picked up on it, or he couldn’t find anything and figured that I had a Hail Mary’s chance at picking up on some clue that he’d missed. Walking slowly down the hall, the carpet kept my unsteady steps from being too noticeable. I walked around the house - hoping, waiting, for a sense of anything to pass over me. Nothing. Even when I stood in the bedroom where Lily died, I felt nothing other than guilt for living when she hadn’t.

  “Can you lead me to the bathroom, please?”

  He took my hand and pulled me close behind him. I walked in his footsteps. It kept me from walking into anything, since he wasn’t behind me to catch random things from falling to the floor. Once inside the bathroom, I splashed water on my face. Clearing my head, I focused on the water as it dripped down my face.

  “Will you Mute yourself,” I asked. “Please?”

  With my eyes closed, I splashed more water on my face and tuned Jace out. It cooled my face as it tricked down. I thought about the fall night; the police reports stated the area was well lit. It was raining, I thought as the water ran off my face. I’d never been successful at triggering my own vision, but wind and water seemed to be key elements. Retracing my steps back into the room where Lily died, I thought of the fall night nearly two decades ago.

  “Fan?” I asked as I stood on the spot my sister had died.

  Jace turned on the ceiling fan. Kneeling on the place Lily took her final breath, I tried everything to induce a vision, a feeling, anything. My suppressed memories of my derailed life and old vision bubbled to the surface. They exploded through my tears. I beat the floor, commanding myself to see something. Any vision!

  I looked from a child wrapped in a blanket, to an old man kneeling over me. His hands were wrinkled, weathered. Time hadn’t been good to him. He grabbed my arm and cut it. My blood seeped from it. The old man leaned in close, smelling me. The smell of fresh rain filled the air when he smiled. I looked back to the child, begging her for help. Within a blink of an eye, my view changed. I was the child looking at my sister in the old man’s grip. He covered her eyes with one hand while raising the knife in his other hand. The reflection of a woman in the knife flickered in my view before I looked away. Blood seeped onto my blanket.

  I felt nothing; what I saw was unfeasible. I traded bodies with my sister. She died. I lived. I didn’t know how I was able to do such a thing, but it didn’t matter. I was a horrible person. I sacrificed her life to save my own. She died because of me. Not a single thing mattered; no soul could make me feel anything again.

  “Gwyneth?”

  I had no need to open my eyes to see Jace kneeling by me. His smoky figure was blatant in my sight. Concern emitted as he said my name over and over. When I didn’t react, he told me I was in shock. He reached for my cheek. I distantly felt his anxiety climb.

  “You’re crying bloo
d.”

  I opened my eyes. He looked like a dark shadow, Muted like I’d asked. A crimson haze clouded my vision. I wiped my eyes and looked at my hands in disbelief. I didn’t care enough about anything to shed a tear, so why had I cried?

  “Red,” I said absentmindedly.

  He asked me if I trusted him. I nodded. Taking my hand in his, he blew hot air on them. “Would you permit me to show myself as I am – unmuted?”

  I nodded. What did I care? He could do as he pleased. I did. I traded places with my sister. I dodged death by sacrificing Lily. Jace slowly brightened. His shape became more defined the brighter he became. A tear trickled down my cheek.

  Pity crept into my soul the brighter he became. Guilt accompanied it. Another tear dropped. Regret. More tears dripped from my eyes. Confusion. Heartache. Anger. Sorrow.

  “Hold me,” I said. He pulled me into his arms before I finished speaking.

  I looked from a child wrapped in a blanket, to an old man kneeling over me. His hands were wrinkled, weathered. Time hadn’t been good to him. He grabbed my arm and cut it. My blood seeped from it. The old man leaned in close, smelling me. The smell of fresh rain filled the air. I looked back to the child, begging her for help. And within a blink of an eye, my view changed. I was the child looking at my sister in the old man’s grip. His hand held onto my sister’s throat, choking her. The knife in his hand rose to his face. The reflection of a woman in the knife flickered in my view before I looked away. Blood seeped onto my blanket.

  A flash of the old man, holding onto a bloody knife in one hand, trickled into my mind. Scarred and wrinkled, his hands dripped with deep red blood. Collapsing to his knees, the old man grinned vindictively as an impossible gift was bestowed upon him. Smoothing out like his skin was being ironed, the old man grew young. His gray hair deepened in a dark brown, curling at the ends. His insane laugh echoed in my mind.

  Warm, brilliant red liquid seeped into my pink blanket. I was a young child, an infant. Lightning flashed the night sky while rain pelted the roof only to stream down the window beside me. My screams competed with the thunder. But no one listened to me, not even the wrinkled old man, who held a bloody knife in one hand and a cane in the other. Blood gushed from a young girl next to me. My pink blanket turned red. Colors blurred, until everything melted into a shade of gray.

  “I killed her!”

  My confession echoed in the noiseless night. Even though I felt his confusion wash over me, he said nothing. Instead, he picked me up and carried me out of the house. We were next to his car seconds later. He lowered me into the back seat of his car. He said that I was freezing and that his healing power wasn’t going to help since I was physically fine.

  He tried to comfort me, but I didn’t want it. I didn’t deserve it, so I pushed him away. I don’t know how I changed bodies with my sister, but I did. Jace slipped into the driver seat and sped away. She died, when it should have been me. I was no better than the murderer in my vision. It wasn’t long before his arms were wrapped around me again. Jace was muted as he carried me. He knocked on a door. Marco answered. His spicy scent triggered another vision.

  I held a knife to a man’s throat. He was larger and stronger than me. His eyes were bright green, unnaturally beautiful. His face was unshaven. His hair was in distress but somehow incredibly attractive. I’d never fought my own battles before, but I refused to let him bring me to the Master again. The past would be forever repeating itself; but today there could be change. He gripped the knife that I held to his throat. He hadn’t even flinched when the blade sliced through his skin. A thick scar trailed across his knuckles – moving like it wasn’t attached to his skin. It slithered under his wrist, hiding itself from view.

  “What’s going on?” Marco asked, jarring me from my vision.

  “She’s in shock. Tell the others to vacate,” Jace said. “And I swear to all that’s holy, if Analee or her slaves disturb Gwyneth, I’ll find a way to kill her.”

  Glancing around the room, I saw a fireplace in the corner of the massive room. I felt the presences of other deities but hadn’t heard them. Jace sat down on a couch with me still in his arms, watching me.

  “Tell me about what happened,” Jace said.

  “Lily was defenseless,” I said. My eyes filled with tears.

  “Defenseless, how?”

  “She died by the knife of an old man, but it was I who killed her. I watched her bleed out and did nothing. I changed her destiny by trading places with her,” I said, fumbling for the right wording. “I stole her life.”

  We sat in silence as time ticked away. He stroked my hair. After what seemed like hours, he began singing in the foreign language. It was music to my ears, calming my soul. I closed my eyes and wished my life away. I wished time would cease to continue. I’d never been afraid of death; now I wanted it – deserved it.

  “You want to tell me why I just put Analee into a frenzy?” Marco asked, as he walked into the room. “She’s not one to take orders kindly.”

  “What happened when you traded places with your sister, Gwyneth?” Jace asked evenly – too calmly.

  “My soul lived in her body. I looked at my sister, wrapped in the baby’s blanket, begging her for help. Then a second before that horrible man cut her eyes out, I was looking at the scene from her perspective. I stole her body – traded my fate with hers, because he was going kill me. I destroyed her soul. I don’t know how I did it, but I did. I know I did.”

  “Impossible,” Marco whispered. “Even if all the sisters are together, they couldn’t be powerful enough to –”

  “Change another’s destiny?” Jace said quietly. “It’s their power – their essence – to change the course of fate, for each one of us, as well as the humans. She gave me her Elysian when she died years ago. Her sisters weren’t near then; yet, she changed their fate.”

  Marco grunted like he didn’t believe it. However, he didn’t argue either.

  “The police reports stated it was a rainy night when it happened – the night a man grew young,” I said idly. I wasn’t following their conversation anyway.

  “The night a man grew young?” Jace repeated. “If he grew young, Lily had to have Elysian in her blood… or Gwyneth interfered with the girl’s fate, by weaving it into her Elysian into the human’s thread of life.”

  “Or it was the Cutter,” Marco offered. “She likes to hop around from body to body. What did she tell me once… it was like wearing a new suit?”

  It was Jace’s turn to groan. “Mythical rumor. We’ve gone around in circles about the subject, I’m not about to debate it again.”

  “Fine, if the man grew young, he was a Hunter. If was one of them filthy half-breeds, then they have been watching Gwyneth since she was a child,” Marco said, and then cursed. “The police officer died shortly after the investigation began. Coincidence or cover-up?”

  “Cover-up, for what?” I asked.

  “People just don’t get younger all the time, sugar,” Marco said. “Faking a death would be a perfect cover-up. The Hunters are notorious for faking previous lives.”

  “See if you can find any death certificate or burial information,” Jace ordered.

  Marco’s head twitched nervously. “Head’s up, Analee’s on her way over here.”

  “He smelled like fresh rain,” I said.

  “Fresh rain?” Marco questioned.

  I nodded. Jace cursed, and Marco spat. A putrid smell filled the air. Blasts of cold air froze the air around me as Jace’s body warmed me.

  “Rain can smell a lot like the ocean – the Butcher’s scent,” Marco muttered and then sniffed me. “We wouldn’t have necessarily picked up on it right away. It looks like your old friend found Gwyneth, before you could.”

  “You should have killed the Butcher when you had the chance, Jace,” Analee said. I didn’t hear her enter the room. It didn’t surprise me. Her figure blazed bright like always; Jace’s went utterly still, like he was getting ready to strike. Before Jace
could comment, Marco appeared in front of Analee, and the two of them vanished.

  That alone was impossible, vanishing in thin air. But at this point I didn’t care.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” I said. I was about to tell him to heal me, but he pressed his finger against my lips, begging me not to say it – not yet.

  “Just a little longer, dearest, and I’ll find the person who murdered your family. It’s always been important to you, even if we didn’t understand why,” Jace muttered. “Even though you didn’t remember why, your instincts guide you to the truth. If the murderer is the Butcher, one of the most noxious Hunters, you’ll want him dead, as badly as I do.”