preferred to think it was real, that his spirit had been able to breach the wall between Realms thanks to some spiritual aftereffect of all my Talker training with him and the resonance that had built between us.
Pete sipped loudly at his cider. âDid you remember the time we climbed up on that billboard with Dawn and ate a whole box of Ding Dongs?â
I smiled. âYeah, I remembered that.â
âAnd the time I dumped Walter Ryan in the trash bin because he called Dawn the N word?â
âYes, Petey. Iââ
âAnd the time Grandfather told Mort to do your chores all summer, and Mort made me do them instead, and Grandfather gave him a pimple potion the first day of school as punishment?â
âPete, I remembered everything.â
âAnd the time I got stuck crawling through the attic and we found Motherâs journal hidden up there?â
I sat up, cider sloshing hot onto my hand. âThe time we did what?â
âWe found Motherâs journal in the attic and you had to pull me out, and I got splinters on my belly?â
I cleaned my hand, and frowned. âNo. I donât remember that. Are you sure I was there?â
âYeah. Remember, Mother had drawn Kimba? Do you remember Dawnâs dog? Mother was all worried because Kimba was a Doberman pinscher, and they were supposed to be mean, but Kimba was really nice.â
âYes, I remember Kimba.â But not the journal, or Pete getting stuck in the attic. âWhereâs the journal now?â
âI think Grandfather burned it after Mother died, âcause it was private.â
I thought the Fey had summoned every last memory of mine, repeatedly, but I didnât remember anything about Motherâs journal.
Had something gone wrong during the transfer, even more wrong than just not getting the changelingâs memories? Had I lost some of my own memories somehow? Memory was a very tricky thing, especially when you had two beings using the same brain.
But wouldnât I remember remembering it in the Other Realm, even if I didnât remember it actually happening, or ⦠something? So did that mean the memory was somehow blocked or destroyed before my exile?
The only memories that should have been officially blocked were related to my necromancy training and useâthe ARC didnât want the Fey to learn any more about our magic than could be helped. But those blocks had all dissolved naturally once my spirit reentered my body. I knew, because I could remember every boring necromancy lecture from Grandfather.
âIâm sorry,â Petey said. âMaybe I shouldnât talk about Mother, or Grandfather. I know you were their favorite, you all being Talkers and everything.â
âFavorite?â I heard Mortâs influence there. âPetey, Mother loved us all the same. And GrandfatherâIâm not sure he even liked me some days.â Grandfather gave me more attention and focus than Mort, Pete, or Sammy, it was true, and I loved him. But Grandfatherâs brand of favoritism had been less a prize and more like catching the Eye of Sauron at times. Iâd tried everything to earn his respect, and still wasnât sure I ever did. âEnough about me, itâs your turn. How have you been? What have you been up to while I was away?â
Petey shrugged. âNothing special or anything. Well, I did go to Waerfolk Anonymous for a while.â
âReally?â It made me uneasy thinking of Pete being around so many feybloods. It would be just like them to infect him with their waer curse for real, and claim it was an accident.
âYeah, but the leader, he said I graduated and shouldnât come to their meetings anymore, because it made the others feel bad, not being as good at controlling their animal spirit as me.â
âOf course he did. Well ⦠congratulations.â I took a sip of cider, and let the steam and smell of cinnamon
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