Page 67 of Mortal Queens

My gaze snapped up to him. “A memory?”

He nodded, a carved smile on his face. “I’ll choose one of your memories and take it. You’ll see it one last time before it’s mine.”

I ran a finger along the band. One memory wasn’t asking much. Behind him, Thorn was shaking hands with the other fae, and I panicked. If I had this, I wouldn’t want anyone else to know. I had to choose now.

Stopping time was worth a memory.

“Alright,” I said, almost biting my words. But once they were out, he snatched hold of my hand, not giving me time to take it back. The deal was struck.

The metal of the watch pressed into my skin with the strength of the fae’s grip. A memory hit me, one I hadn’t thought of for a long time.

Mother sat on the floor with her skirt fanned out on the marble beneath her. She had flowers pinned to her hair, yellow flowers I’d picked for her that day. Malcom perched on her lap with his soldier toy in his mouth.

I came through the door with a teapot to pour water into cups and pretend we were at a fancy party, like the ones father went to with his general friends. Some of the water spilled on the floor, but mother said nothing.

There was a snap, and Mother gasped. She pried the soldier toy from baby Malcom’s mouth. The arm had broken off. She swept a finger through his mouth to remove the broken piece and passed both to me to throw out. But Malcom cried, so she gave the toy back, slipping the broken arm into her pocket.

That was how Antonio broke his arm. The distinguishing detail that made him Malcom’s favorite. He was hardened by battle, he said when he was older.

“That’s fine,” Mother said with a smile as she took the teacup I offered her. “Some of the best things are broken.”

“Is there tea in the fae realm?” I had asked.

I shut my eyes. Always so obsessed with the realm I couldn’t touch.

Mother’s eye twinkled as she lowered the cup. “There is. Finer tea than we have here, and sweeter.” She cast her eyes upward, her expression was pure longing. “Everything there is better.”

Cal called for her, and she shifted Malcom and got to her feet. “Uhnepa te,” she said in her language, stepping past me. I repeated it before snapping back to reality. My hand freed.

Thorn finished shaking the other fae’s hand as if no time had passed.

“Why that one?” I asked, clutching the watch. “It’s meaningless.”

The fae’s jaw was slack, and his eyes glazed over. He now forced a smile to his face. “It doesn’t matter. It’s mine now.”

And with those words, the memory was ripped from my mind.

Something was gone. I knew he’d just taken something. I scrunched my eyes, trying to bring it back. Trying to remember what I’d lost. But it was out of reach.

I felt out of sorts. “What was it? Can you tell me what you took?”

“Do not worry,” the fae said. “You won’t miss the memory.”

The gap was like a burning hole in my mind. I had to know. “But what did you take?”

“A simple one to you, but of great value to me.” A strange look passed his face, and he glanced toward Thorn. He leaned closer to me and spoke quickly. “Uhnepa te.”

I staggered back. “Where did you hear that?”

“Your memory.”

A drowning chasm inside opened. “You stole one of my mother?” I had limited memories of her, and each one held a precious place in my heart. After she left, I spent nights going over each one to get another moment of her. Now this fae had taken one of them, and he could see it anytime he liked.

His lips twitched, and he ran a thoughtful hand down his cheek. “Where is your mother?”

I shoved the watch into my pocket. “That’s for me to know.” Never mind that I had no idea.

He looked at Thorn again, who was now coming toward us. His voice was almost breathless, “I’ll give you anything if you tell me where she is. Anything.”