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“Come on, Thicket. Open your eyes.”
Thicket surged upright with a gasp. Lotta and Elian released a collective sigh of relief. Marcellus sat back, closing his eyes for a second as Thicket’s chest heaved uncontrollably.
“Breathe,” Lotta said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Take in deep, slow breaths.”
Thicket’s head swam, entire body feeling weak. Drained. Elian shifted towards her, grabbing her hand in his. Panic set in as the shift of the dirt beneath him ripped through her mind, all too similar to the sound of a blade scraping against stone.
“Your steps, Princess,” Marcellus said.
Heart still racing, she inhaled a long, shaky breath. She didn’t smell lavender. She was no longer surrounded by the desert, but by pale limestone walls, rippling with light cast by the turquoise waters of the lagoon.
“Good,” Lotta said. “Just keep breathing.”
Thicket did. Elian ran a soothing thumb across her hand. Marcellus’ gaze caught on the motion before flicking away. Slowly, her chest eased, the panic settling.
“What happened?” Marcellus demanded.
Thicket raked a shaking hand through her hair. It was still drenched. Droplets of water sprang free, trickling down her back. They felt like ice. She noticed tiny welts lining her arms, most likely from the jellyfish venom.
“I don’t know. One moment, I was playing with two children. A boy and a girl, only their appearance kept shifting.” She glanced at Elian, remembering the boy’s blue eyes. But he wasn’t the only boy she knew with blue eyes. Jett also had them, just as Linda’s hair was a brighter, longer version of Bern’s. “It was like my two sets of memories were warring with each other, pulling me between this world and the Dream World.”
“You were doing fine,” Elian said. “Right up until the end. What did you see?”
Thicket’s brow wrinkled, trying to remember. “My parents. We were having a picnic. My sister went into a forest and I followed. She set a dead animal on the ground and used it to capture a raven.” A fresh chill edged down her spine. “She asked when I would die. The raven stared directly at me and said, “right now.” That’s when I started to drown.”
Marcellus cursed.
“I started smelling lavender. I thought I had found my memories. That the jellyfish venom had somehow lowered the curse’s defenses enough to free them from wherever they had vanished the last time I tried. Instead, I opened my eyes. Only they weren’t mine.”
Marcellus’ jaw tightened, “They were your sister’s.”
Elian’s eyes slid to him, brows wrinkling.
Thicket nodded. A lump pressed against her throat as she fought to say her next words. “She was in the Desert Kingdom. I watched as her wolf brought a phoenix before Lavender and she…”
She killed a phoenix.
Elain’s grip on her hand tightened. “It’s okay. It was just a dream. It’s over now.”
But was it?
Mymeri.
That was the last word she had uttered before she fell unconscious.
The incantation for memory.
“The phoenix…” She lifted her head, meeting Marcellus’ eyes first, half hidden behind creased brows. She glanced at Elian and Lotta, huddled on either side, wearing equal expressions of concern. “The Treaty…”
“What about it?” Lotta asked.
It came to her, all at once.
“Lavender…” Thicket gasped. “She—she killed a phoenix. She broke the Treaty. But the Desert Kingdom captured Alouette instead.”
Marcellus and Lotta exchanged a look, as though having just come to the same conclusion.
“If she did,” Lotta said, “and somehow set Dymree up to take the fall…”