Kael followed Lira through the crooked lanes of Merrow's Edge as the sun climbed weakly into the sky. The village seemed less suspicious of him now, but not welcoming. Eyes lingered. Doors shut a little faster. Children stopped playing whenever he came near.
"Are they always like this?" he asked.
Lira didn't look back. "Not always. Just when the wind shifts."
She led him past a weather-worn well, a moss-covered statue with its face chipped off, and into a small stone building shaped like a wedge. Inside was a single room lined with narrow wooden benches and a chalkboard where no chalk remained.
"This used to be a school," she said, brushing dust from the nearest bench. "Now it's where we come to remember what we're allowed to forget."
Kael sat, watching her as she lit a small lantern and set it in the middle of the floor. Its flame pulsed once, then steadied to a soft, blue glow.
"You asked how things work here," she said. "I'll start with the easy lies."
She drew a symbol in the dust beside the lantern. A triangle within a circle.
"There are five Memory Houses that rule the continent. Each one protects a Vault. The Vaults hold memories—some personal, some shared. History. Magic. Names. Laws. Love."
"Love?"
"Anything strong enough to survive forgetting can be locked away. That's what the Houses claim."
Kael leaned forward. "And Merrow's Edge? You don't answer to them?"
Lira's smile was brief and sharp. "We pretend not to exist. The Vaults don't reach this far, and no one important remembers we're here. That's how we survive."
"And if someone does remember?"
"Then we disappear."
She circled the symbol with her fingertip, slowly.
"You lost your memory near the Oblivion Zone. It's not a place, not exactly. More like a wound in the world. Things unravel there. Time slips. Names vanish. Most who wander close lose themselves completely."
Kael was quiet for a long moment. "So I came from beyond the wound?"
"Maybe. Or maybe something inside it sent you back."
She stood and walked to a small shelf in the corner, retrieving a thin slate with silver lines running through it. She placed it in front of him.
"This is a recorder. It reacts to memory spells. Most of us can't even activate it."
He looked at her. "And you want me to try?"
"I want you to not try," she said. "Because if you can, and someone sees it..."
"You'll all be in danger."
She nodded.
"Is that why you've been helping me? Because you think I'm useful?"
Her expression didn't change, but something behind her eyes did. The warmth there cooled slightly.
"I'm helping you because someone once helped me. Don't make me regret it."
Kael looked at the recorder. Then at his hands.
"What happens if I remember something I wasn't supposed to?"
"Then you keep it to yourself. Or bury it deep enough that not even the Houses can find it."
"And if I can't?"
Lira exhaled through her nose, almost a laugh.
"Then we both vanish. Like smoke in old stories."