Page 101 of Evermore

His expression darkened. “It’s the night you need to fear. Things come out. Things that hunger for more than memories.”He started walking, his gait uneven, as if he occasionally forgot how to place his feet. “I’ll show you somewhere safe. I think. Yes, I remember a place. Or maybe I dreamed it.”

We followed him through winding streets. Finally, he stopped before a building that might have once been an inn. The sign above the door was blank, its words long forgotten.

“Stay here,” he said, already turning away. “I’ll bring food. I remember where to find it. Usually.” He paused, looking back with that dreamy uncertainty. “Don’t go out after dark. And if you hear singing… cover your ears. Some songs aren’t meant to be remembered.”

As he disappeared into the fog, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d remember to come back at all.

Thorne placed a warm hand on the small of my back and led me into the old building. “The question is, who’s singing?”

“I don’t really see how that’s relevant when he’s warned you it’s something dangerous.”

“Oh, if it’s who I think it might be, she’s definitely something. Let’s get inside and try to settle in. We need a plan.”

I smirked. “It’s nice to see there were some moments of Thorne Noctus in Stirling that were exactly the same as Thorne Noctus in reality.”

He closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. “I’ve found you, loved you, and lost you a thousand times, Paesha. You’ve never once loved an amiable, shy man. But I was still myself with you. Even then.”

I drew back. “Tell me you tried to be amiable just once.”

He smiled and that fucking dimple showed beyond the dark stubble. “Maybe.”

“Let me guess. A barkeep. Oh, no wait, stable boy. No.” I snapped my fingers. “Oh my gods. You were a shy, little record keeper, weren’t you?”

“You didn’t even hate me in that life cycle. You didn’t notice me at all. Not until the building caught fire, and I saved everyone inside. Including you.”

I could feel the past life he spoke of weaving around my mind as if she stood at attention, eager to be remembered.

I followed him inside. “And let me guess, no one had any idea how the building caught fire.”

“Actually,” he said, shutting the door behind me. “Tuck ratted me out.”

I huffed a laugh. “That’s impossible. That would mean Tuck would have to be… Are you fucking kidding me?”

He spun to face me, palms out. “In his defense, he wanted to tell you himself.”

“I’m going to kill him. I watched the Cimmerians beat him half to death in the prince’s lair. How… What the fuck, Thorne. We almost got caught because of him.”

“First of all, you weren’t supposed to be down there. Second, he was never going to die at the hands of the Cimmerians. It was our best way in. I knew he wouldn’t have any of the gods down there that night because they were with Alastor. He was supposed to get in and get out.”

“And what lesson did we learn from that experience, Keeper?” I mocked.

“Never trust you and Archer alone,” he said without missing a beat.

“Hey, you leave Archer out of this. That man is a pure soul compared to your fucked up history. I can’t believe Tuck is a god. Liars. The lot of you.”

“If he were here, he would point out he never explicitly told you he was human. You jumped to that conclusion on your own. And then he would follow it by reminding you that you lied about your power as well.”

I rolled my eyes and walked toward a very questionable set of stairs. “So, you’re saying he’s about as insufferable as you are with his justifications?”

“No,” he answered with a lightness to his voice. “He’s far worse. Let me go first, please?”

A question. Not a command.

The inn’s interior was exactly what you’d expect from a forgotten building—dust, decay, and an eerie emptiness that made every footstep echo. Thorne led me up a creaking staircase, testing each step before letting me follow. We found a room that was relatively intact, with a bed that looked mostly stable and a window that somehow still held glass, though it was clouded with age.

“There’s another room down the hall.” I said, dropping my cloak on a rickety chair. “The door was partially open.”

He gave me a flat look. “I’m not leaving you alone in this place.”