“I can be observant when I need to be. What am I observing?”
“Did you see Heidel’s hands?”
Her hands?
“I saw them. Was something wrong?”
“Scars. She’s had them for years. I always assumed them to be battle wounds.”
“And now you think they aren’t?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
I’d seen Heidel’s scars before. I had assumed the same thing as him. But if those scars weren’t battle wounds, what else could they be?
“Heidel disguises her emotions well. But I know she feels pain. I fear that being in captivity has only deepened her pain.”
I didn’t know what to say. He was right. Sugarcoating the truth might make him feel better, but it wouldn’t help. “Heidel has to deal with her pain on her own terms. Only time can help with that.”
He turned to me. His eyes showed his desperation. “Will she recover?”
“I can’t say for sure.”
“But you have knowledge about the human brain and how it works. You have training in Earth Kingdom’s institutions. Have they taught you nothing? Will my sister recover from her injuries?”
“Kull, I can’t say—”
“You can guess, can’t you?”
He wanted an answer. He wouldn’t relent until he got one. “Oftentimes, people who’ve suffered traumatic events in their life such as abuse never recover. It’s a scar they carry for the rest of their lives. She can overcome it, but she’ll never be the same. Abuse is a horrible thing. It does things to the brain that we can’t yet comprehend. I don’t have a magic cure for this one. I’m sorry.”
My thoughts led me to Jeremiah. I didn’t want to imagine the horrors he was suffering.
“Thank you,” Kull finally answered.
A breeze gusted past, aiding the snake’s corpse to break free from the weeds. The current caught it, and the ropy loops of brown and black disappeared downstream.
“How will we travel to Earth Kingdom?” he asked.
“I’ll use my mirror. Bring only what you can carry. We’ll meet at the lake once we’ve packed up. I need somewhere quiet for the spell to work. And you might want to leave your broadsword here.”
He shot me a dark look.
“I’m serious. People on Earth don’t carry swords around. You could get arrested.”
“Then how do they defend themselves?”
“Umm, pepper spray?”
“A potion of some sort?”
“Yeah, it comes in a little plastic bottle, you spray it at your attacker. Burns for hours.”
Kull snorted. “My broadsword comes with me.”
“You’ll regret it.” I imagined him in the Harris County jail. I would have to bail him out for attacking some poor pedestrian with his sword.
He stood, brushed the mud from his backside, which I paid very little attention to, and walked to the castle. “You don’t know me as well as I thought,” he called over his shoulder. “The sword comes with me.”
I ground my teeth. Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn.
I was sure one of us wouldn’t be returning. Bill agreed.
Chapter 24
After packing what little I could, I left the castle. The walk to the lake cleared my head. Jeremiah’s capture was starting to wear me down.
I felt responsible for him. I felt like a failure. Why couldn’t I have visited more? Why couldn’t I have been more protective? I knew beating myself up would accomplish nothing, but Al Einstein tried hard to convince me otherwise.
Wind gusted through the towering evergreens, making the boughs sway. The smell of fresh pine filled the rain-scented air. I let it fill my lungs. The sapphire waters of the lake appeared ahead. With the weight of my pack slung over my shoulder, I felt the presence of the dream catcher inside. Should I bring such an item to Earth?
I felt reasonably certain in saying that I understood magic. The sky king had taught me about all forms—dragon, pixie, elven, even some goblin. I’d learned Earth magic as well. But this magic was like nothing I’d ever studied. It felt ancient and evil, as if being near it would taint the purest enchantment.
My footsteps made little noise over the needle-strewn path. I stopped when I reached the shore. Sunlight reflected off the water. The laughter of water sprites echoed over the lake as I knelt, took out my mirror case, and inhaled deeply.
Are you ready to go back? Bill asked me.
I pushed the thought aside. It didn’t matter if I was ready or not.
Heavy footsteps came from the path. I turned to see Kull walking toward me. He wore a leather vest studded with silver spikes. His sword hung from one shoulder, knife handles shone from his belt, and his leather boots looked as if they’d been crafted from dragon hide—a landwalker, by the looks of it.
“I thought I said to pack light.”
“You said to pack only what I could carry.”
Had I? I should pay more attention to how I phrase things.
“Fine, but you’ll have to leave half of it in my apartment.”
He knelt beside me as I opened my mirror. Blue Faythander light curled from the mirror’s surface, enveloping me. I brushed my fingers over the glass, not detecting any enchantments, unless the goblins had found a way to hide their magic as my father had. Not likely.
“How many times have you crossed worlds?” I asked him.
“Several times.”
“Were you ever wearing a memory charm?”
“Only once on a visit to France. I had to sell off half my collection to afford it.”
“So you’re familiar with the side effects? Dizziness, trouble concentrating, that sort of thing?”
“I’m prepared.”
“Are you? From now until we return to Faythander, you’ll retain your memories, but once we cross back, you’ll lose all your memories from Earth. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I will sacrifice what I must.”
I turned to my mirror. Can’t say I didn’t warn him. When I touched the glass, magic swirled beneath my fingertips. Its presence called to me. “As soon as I tell you, put your hand on the glass. Don’t take it off until we’ve crossed.”
“I understand.”
I took a deep breath. Magic flowed inside me, and then
