Chapter 8: Memories Never Fade

  The graphite pencil glided over paper, tracing the contours of my room. I strived to perfect the sharp angles where the walls met, the delicate frames of the paintings, and the glow of the fireplaces. I was planning to save this sketch to show to Cassidy years down the road, and I wanted to make sure that it was as accurate as possible. I put the final details in and set my pencil down, holding my sketchbook at arm's length to judge its quality. Satisfied with my work, I put my sketchbook aside, wondering what to do next.

  Neifion hadn't summoned me for the past two days, and I was running out of things to do. One could only draw and practice Seeing for so long before one inevitably grew bored. I closed my eyes and leaned back. My skill at Seeing had only been getting better with time, and the red lights appeared almost instantly, though they remained fuzzy and indistinct. I took stock of the familiar heat sources: the three fireplaces, the lantern next to me, and my own body, if I glanced downward. But there was an extra glow today. I strained my closed eyes, hoping that the glow would sharpen, but it didn't. The lights hadn't been more than blobs since I took that test of Neifion's three days ago.

  "Hodge?" I guessed. "What are you doing in here?" I opened my eyes, and I saw that it actually was Hodge who had come in. "Has Neifion sent for me?" I asked, trying in vain to keep the hint of hope out of my voice.

  Hodge shook his head. "No, he hasn't. I couldn't help but notice that you've seemed a little lost lately, and I was wondering if you would want to check out our library. We didn't have time for it during the tour, so it could be an adventure for you to visit it. At the very least, it'd give you something to do."

  I was touched by his offer, but I'd never been much of a reader. "Thanks, but I think I'm good," I said, my tone tinted with disinterest.

  "Well, our collection happens to boast a good amount of art catalogs..."

  I sat up in anticipation. "Really? Lead me to this library immediately!"

  Hodge took me down several twisting halls and stopped in front of an arched doorway. Light spilled through the doorway cheerily, and the library's elegant bookshelves emanated a welcoming aura. "Do you want me to accompany you? It's quite easy to get lost in the maze of books," Hodge said.

  "No, I'll be fine." I wandered into the library without a second thought. I was looking forward to losing myself and losing my worries. I traced one finger along the books, feeling their tough, hard-bound spines. The library's collection varied largely by appearance, with the most expensive featuring gold leafing and covers dyed purple, and some of the other books being nothing more than a few tattered pieces of paper sewn together with a bit of string. Either way, it was going to be almost impossible for me to locate an art catalog or two among that many literary artifacts.

  Summoning every scrap of my courage, I stepped up to the librarian - or at least who I assumed to be the librarian, based on his tiny little glasses and the stack of books he was putting on the shelves. "Um, excuse me..." I cleared my throat and tried to sound more like the Fire Elemental I was. "Where can I find some of your art catalogues?"

  "Down that path and take the first right." The librarian pointed the way without much thought and immediately went back to his work.

  "Thanks." I ducked shyly and went to find the catalogs. I felt even more silly when I found a large sign hanging above the shelves that actually said "art catalogs" right on it. Maybe if I had paid a bit more attention while wandering willy-nilly, I would've noticed the signs and could've figured out where the catalogs were on my own.

  I had just picked up a catalog with a black cover and flipped to the first sketch of a famous painting when I heard other voices in the library. The voices sounded young and energetic, and I instantly thought of the two teens who had laughed at me in the hallway not many days ago. Having no desire to run into them again, I cast my gaze around the library, searching for a place to hide. I spotted a staircase that led up to a loft and rushed up the steps, the black catalog forgotten in my haste. The loft was set up as a reading nook, and I scrambled to hide behind one of the comfy chairs.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "All I'm saying is that King Justian is overall better than Prince Henric, alright? Won't you at least hear me out on this one?" I peered out from behind the chair and saw the two teens walk toward the art catalog section of the library. The blonde girl seemed to be trying to convince the boy to see her side of the issue. Unfortunately, I had no idea who Prince Hendric was or why he was important, so the argument had no interest for me. I assumed Prince Hendric was related to King Justian, but that was all I knew.

  "But Prince Hendric is incomparable," the boy shot back. "Even his father cannot surpass his- Hey, what's this?" he said, interrupting himself and bending to pick something up. "Who left a book on the floor? And who even cares about these catalogs anyway?" I ducked behind the chair, hoping that they wouldn't find me. It was an avoidable mistake to leave the black catalog out, and I thoroughly berated myself for it.

  "Isn't that new fire kid an artist or something?" the blonde girl asked. "Maybe he left it here."

  "Hmph. Sure looks like he left in a hurry." The boy must've spotted the loft and figured it seemed like a good place for someone to hide, because I heard his heavy footsteps rattling up the metal staircase. I hunkered down even more. Should I continue to hide, even though discovery was imminent? Or should I act like I hadn't been hiding at all and play it cool? At the last moment, I made up my mind and rushed to sit in the chair I had just been using as a shelter from unwelcome eyes. Luckily, there was a book sitting on the small coffee table right next to it, and I grabbed it to add to my ruse.

  The boy stomped up the last stairs and finally made his appearance on the loft. "Ha! Just what I thought!"

  I gave him a scathing look, channeling my inner fire as much as possible. It seemed to work, as he wilted a bit under my gaze. "What's just what you thought?" I asked, doing my best to sound slightly suspicious, as if he had no right to barge into my loft.

  "You didn't need to hide from us," the blonde girl said, coming up the stairs as well. "We don't mean you harm."

  "Pfft, who said I was hiding from you?"

  "Your book is upside-down. You obviously didn't come up here to read."

  I gave her a slightly sheepish grin and set the book down. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. Who's Prince Henric, and why were you arguing over whether he's better than King Justian?"

  "We weren't arguing, not really." The boy casually swung an arm around the blonde girl's shoulders. "Anemone here needs to debate people to keep her mind sharp. It's a bit annoying, but it can also be entertaining. As long as you're not the one debating her, that is. Almost no one can get through her arguments. In this particular matter, I actually had my own opinion, so it got a bit more fiery than usual."

  The blonde girl shrugged his arm away playfully. "Prince Henric is King Justian's son and the current heir to the throne," she explained. "He is generally thought to be one of the most agreeable people in all of Evandar. Personally, I prefer his father's gentle spirit of camaraderie over his sweet-talking attitude. But I'm afraid I have yet to introduce myself." She held out her hand. "I'm Anemone, but most people call me Ana. The walking brick next to me is Terran."

  I shook her hand in a daze, a bit overwhelmed by all the information being thrown at me all at once. My mind defaulted to the proper phrases to say when meeting someone new. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Firth."

  Anemone flashed a stunning smile. "Oh, we already know your name! You're famous around here!"

  Anemone's smile shot through me like a bolt of lightning. Her smile was so similar to Cassidy's, it was like seeing a ghost. My vision grew spotty as memories of my beloved sister flooded through me. I remembered every sweet smile, every musical laugh, every moment we had together. It was too much.

  I stumbled toward the stairs. I had to get away. Flashes of recollection kept me confused and disoriented, until I couldn't quite tell what was past and what was present. Was it Cassidy or Anemone who reached out to me, saying, "Firth? Are you alright?" Did the stairs lead down to the first floor of my house, or to the Manor's library? Were the halls I staggered through part of the alleys of my hometown, or were they the rocky, scarred hallways of the Manor?

  Though I was still in a haze of old memories, I could hear Hodge's voice break through the veil. "Hold on, Firth," it said, "I'm taking you back to your room." Somehow, I managed to stay upright as I was led through the shadowy halls, until I was finally able to collapse into my own bed. Dark forms bustled around me. I wasn't sure if they were people or some foul messengers of Death himself. It was blessed relief when the blackness overtook me completely and I could slip into unconsciousness.