Cresent Prophecy

television was jammed up against the wall to the side, a matching coffee table was littered with old books, papers, and several dirty coffee cups. On the other side of the hall, I caught sight of the kitchen, which was fairly clean and sparse considering he was such a great cook. I wondered if Aileen had taught him or if it was one of those ingrained skills that had followed him from his past.
There were two more rooms I could see at the back of the little cottage, which I assumed were his bedroom and a bathroom. It was tiny, and there wasn’t much to see, but it seemed to suit Boone perfectly.
He led me into the little living room, and I sat on the couch, shucking off my leather jacket. I watched as he lit the fire, throwing on some kindling and blowing on the little flame until it caught. Then he added some logs, arranging them in a carefully considered pile. I couldn’t light a fire to save myself, so I would never be an arsonist, though I wondered if I could get around my lack of skill with magic.
At the thought of magic, my train of thought lost their brakes and went on a joyride across the network.
“Are you worried about somethin’?” Boone asked, sitting beside me on the couch. “You’ve got that look on your face.”
“A lot of things worry me,” I said. “Hang on. What look?”
“You screw up your nose, and you get that furrow between your brows.” He placed his finger between my eyes.
“Do not.”
He smiled. “Tell me about it.”
Where did I begin?
“Can I light a fire with my magic?” I began, spitting out whatever came to mind. “Where are the other witches? We’re so alone out here with no way to connect to the outside world. I’m meant to save people I’ve never met. The enemy is all around, and we can’t see them until they show up on the front porch. They can sure as hell see us, so why can’t we go and find them? We should be able to go on the offensive, too. I’m not good at waiting. I don’t like it.”
“That’s a lot of things to worry about.”
I shrugged.
“Boone?”
“Hmm?”
“We haven’t really talked about what you told me…”
“About?”
“Your past…”
“Ah.” He pulled me into his lap.
Nestling against his chest, I ran my fingertips along his jaw, delighting in the scratch of his stubble.
“I try not to dwell on it too much,” he went on. “Whoever took me memories must have done a very good job. I try to avoid the headaches.”
“The wolf that attacked me, you thought he was there for you?”
“Aye,” he whispered. “It was wolves who were chasin’ me. It’s been years since that night… I thought they may have been becomin’ impatient.”
“You never crossed the boundary in all that time?”
“Only twice,” he said, furrowing his brow.
I knew one of the times had been with me when we went to Croagh Patrick to charge the athame. The other had been when Aileen died protecting him from Hannah, the spriggan. At the thought of my mother, my heart felt heavy.
“Was there a reason you were worried?” I murmured. “I mean, to be with me?”
“I…” He swallowed hard, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “I worry sometimes. About who I was before.”
“Me too,” I admitted.
“You have?”
“And I told you it doesn’t matter. Not to me.” I placed my hand on his chest and felt his heartbeat, using a tiny trickle of magic to sense the thrum out. “You want to know what I think?”
“Desperately.”
I smiled and continued, “They say people never change, at least, not at their core. So whoever you were before, if you were good or bad, you both shared the same heart. You must’ve been loyal, fierce, strong, and a total smart cookie.”
“Trust you to make this about food.”
“I do like cookies.” I laughed and nuzzled closer, jamming my forehead against his neck.
“Skye… There’s somethin’ I never told you about that night.”
“What night?”
“The night Hannah lured me outside the boundary.”
I tensed and pulled away slightly. “There’s something worse than being lured by the higher fae that killed Aileen?”
He lowered his gaze, and his teeth tugged on his bottom lip.
“Boone.”
“She told me somethin’…”
“About?” I was starting to lose my temper. Trying to get Boone to admit to something was like trying to get blood out of a stone.
“Hannah…” He almost clammed up again but went on. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about that night. When she revealed her true self to me, I recognized her form, though I hadn’t seen anythin’ like her before that night. She seemed to know me. Then…”
“Then?”
“She said Carman wanted me.”
I froze, a million and one scenarios exploding in my mind, none of which I wanted to acknowledge.
“Skye… What if I was one of them?”
He’d told me Hannah wanted to give him to Carman before, so it wasn’t news, but to think she wanted him because he was in league with her? I couldn’t believe it.
“It could mean anything,” I argued. “It doesn’t mean you were…” I couldn’t even say it. “You could’ve attacked her, or you could’ve been a spy, or—”
“Skye,” he said, interrupting me. “It’s nice of you to think so, but there’s no way to know.”
“What if we found a way to unlock your memories? Then you would.”
“Aileen already tried,” he said somberly.
“And what did she say?”
“That me mind had been locked by a powerful spell, and the only way it could be undone was by the person who had the key.” He glanced at me, the worry clear in his eyes. He thought Carman was the witch who took his memory.
“Are you happy?” I asked. “With who you are now? Are you happy?”
He frowned. “I have to be.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” I countered. “If it bothers you that much, we can go find whoever messed with your past.”
“Skye…”
“If it’s her, then two birds with one stone.” I shrugged, knowing what