Thread of Gold

Ch. 26: the forgotten princess

Penny woke up in the meadow.

Relief filled her. The same golden wheat. The same glittering, palatial temple. There was no crack in it now, Penny noted, her eyes skittering over the pillars; it was as if she had imagined the earth cleaving in two. Lucia was standing at the bottom of the steps, and she smiled as Penny approached.

"I wondered if you would return," Lucia said.

Penny wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. Not even with a goddess. "My brother. You said you could help him."

"There is a cure for Ryne Delafort's illness," Lucia allowed. "I can tell you what it is. But it will cost you."

"What is that you want?"

She knew how this worked. Her tutor Briar had told her legends of mortals that met with the gods in the years before they slumbered, and all of them had exacted a price. A woman's first-born child. A man's magic. Ten years of a person's life. She could feel her heart hammering, feel her sweaty palms.

But Lucia's request caught her off-guard. "Your memories. Not all of them; just a select few."

"Why?"

"Memories are power." Her form rippled as she took a step. "Mine has faded over the years. I need more of it."

She licked her lips. "How many memories?"

"Three years' worth."

Penny's head spun. Three years? Gods above, she would wake up thinking that her father was alive. She would think she was thirteen. Sourness rose in her throat. But perhaps Lucia would be open to bargaining, she reasoned. Perhaps she could offer the goddess something else.

Gently, Penny reached out. White heat struck her in the chest, hot and fast, and she pulled back with a hiss. The goddess's eyes glimmered.

"Where do you think your gift comes from, little girl?"

Penny's cheeks flushed. "One month." She rubbed at her throbbing chest. "You can have one month of my memories."

"Two years."

"Two months." Her heart was racing. "That's enough."

Lucia tilted her head. "The forgotten princess," she said. "It only makes sense that you forget your life too, doesn't it?" Penny only waited. "One year."

"Six months."

"One year," Lucia repeated. "Your most recent year. That's my last offer. Take it or leave it, little princess."

Princess. Penny almost flinched. Grayson had called her that, once. If she took Lucia's deal, she would forget all about him. She would forget the gold flecks that swum in his eyes like fireflies, the deep, throaty sound of his laugh. Would it be a relief? Or would a void open inside of her where he'd once existed?

In the end, it didn't matter.

She would do anything for Ryne. Anything.

Penny clenched her jaw. "Fine. You have a deal."

She could have sworn the wheat glowed a little brighter. Somewhere, a bird's wings rustled. Lucia's golden eyes shone.

The goddess struck like a snake.

One moment, Lucia was by the temple, and the next, she was at Penny's side. A shiver of unease raced down her spine. Lucia bent down, whispering in her ear, and Penny frowned. "The cure is that simple?"

Lucia's smile widened. "It is," she said. "So long as you can remember it."

Penny's heart stopped.

She hadn't considered — hadn't even thought—