Page 88 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain

Warm, his hand is so warm.

We sit, eyes locked, for a moment before I avert mine and pull my hand free from under his, his fingers falling limp to the desk in defeat as I slide away from him.

It’s then I notice a familiar book and my gaze locks on it. Alec’s eyes trail mine.

“Commonly Misinterpreted Quinndohsi Phrases,” he recites, opening the book. “I have been trying to make sense of this since you returned.” Alec begins leafing through the pages. He gives me a searching look, biting the inside of his lip before continuing. “I know what you were told, but most of this is nothing more than fabricated ramblings of a madman.” He says softly, putting it back down.

I knit my brow at his words.

“I will preface by saying what I am sure you already know. You were manipulated and lied to. Very little of this,” Alec holds up the book, “is real.” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, knocking loose a silky black lock that sways just above his brow.

A strong urge to push it back takes me over. I plant myself firmly in my seat.

“I suspect Locane told you this particular lie hoping it would be enough to keep you at his side when his control broke. The idea of working together to save the Kingdoms. While yes, there was some truth to the state of the lands, it has been this way since the Original War. The poisoning and destruction of our lands happened then—all at once. Our continent is not dying a slow death.”

Giving a soft shake of my head, my eyes narrow towards the book. “When I was…” I swallow, searching for an adequate word to describe the time during my capture, “gone, I remembered things about Brhadir fairly easily. And some things about Quinndohs. But nothing about Salhaas, though I remember those things now. Why?”

Alec brings a long pointer finger to rest at his lips, considering his response. “A combination of reasons. One: Locane purposely relinquished some of your memories, to make his task easier. Such as your Nana, given that she was so involved with your Sight. And two: Brhadir is your home. It is so deeply ingrained in you it would be difficult to hide those memories from you, especially while you were still in the Kingdom. And you are deeply familiar with Quinndohs as well. You have never been to Salhaas.”

Before I can think, before I can stop myself, I say, “But aren’t you deeply ingrained in me as well?”

Heat flashes across my cheeks as pain lances through Alec’s dark brown eyes.

He clears his throat subtly before answering. “Locane used much more drastic measures in the end to ensure I would not come back to you.”

My stomach sinks to the floor, and I prepare myself to leave, knowing I shouldn’t have stayed to talk to Alec in the first place. The glowing fire around my heart burns, trying to wash away the loathsome panic creeping up my throat.

Alec swallows hard and hastily turns to a page in the book, sensing my pulling away. He lands on the page containing the picture of the Plains I was so fixated on. My attention is instantly drawn back to the book, the scorching guilt brewing in my chest dying back down.

“Now this,” he says curiously, letting the intimate moment slip by. “I do not know how Locane got this.”

I take in the picture again, experiencing the same pull I did before.

“You had that vision,” Alec says, taking me by surprise. My head rises quickly. “When you were a child, you had that vision andasked me to share it with Kraeston—who then Captured the image for you.”

A slow, amused smile spreads over my face. “Kraeston is a Capturer? But I saw him wielding flames.”

Alec nods softly. “Yes. Kraeston was gifted with magic from both his parents. You and Kraeston are incredibly rare, in that you possess a physical and a mental gift.”

“That’s such an artsy gift for such a large, rough man,” I laugh.

Alec returns it, beaming at me. “Yes, it is. He is both quite powerful and talented.”

Looking down at the picture again, my eyes roam over the fine, intricate details. “I can see that,” I say as I trace my fingers over the clean lines. It’s no wonder I was so drawn to the picture—my subconscious recognized it.

“That gift came from his mother. Unfortunately, Kraeston’s parents were lost during the Culling,” Alec says.

“The Culling?” I ask confused.

“Yes. A long time ago, powerful heads of families started dying in droves. For all manner of reasons, but mostly strange accidents. Your grandfather was lost in the Culling, making your father a very young king. Both of Kraeston’s parents were claimed, along with countless others. These strange accidents went on for several years. My parents and your Nana were but three of very few in their generation who were spared.”

My mouth gapes in horror. “How do I not know about this?”

Alec smiles fondly, which seems like an odd reaction to the sad story. Realization hits me that somewhere in my mind, I do know this history, only it’s still hidden from me. “When we saw each other, you would beg me to continue telling you stories late intothe night. I only knew so many stories, but I knew a lot about history.”

There must be a whole trove of information buried inside me, all taught to me by Alec. “What caused the Culling?” I ask, trying not to dwell on the depth of all that’s been lost.

“No one knows. With our long lifespans, fertility is fickle in the gifted community. We will see great lulls in birth rates that span for years with no children of magical background born, followed by massive booms. The Culling began during the beginning days of a fertility boom, essentially wiping out two generations of gifted people. The generation of people that were dying were the ones having children.”