I can’t let Jeremy go alone.

The magic won’t let you both remember. Not as long as the door is open. It’s too dangerous for the kingdom.

I know.

And you won’t be able to help Jeremy.

I know that too.

Then why go?

Because I…

—

The book was black with a silver combination lock on it. Skya set it before him, her beautiful face grim with unshed tears.

How does it work?

Set the combination and open it. Don’t tell anyone the combination. Make it something you remember from your old life.

436. Easy enough. Jeremy’s house number.

Done.

Now draw in it or write. Whatever you put in the book, when you lock it, it will be locked away in your mind.

So it’s still there?

Yes, but you won’t remember it. It’ll be as if it’s behind a door you can’t open.

So I just…draw things that happened, and I won’t remember them?

Not until you open the book again. The witch warned you may dream of them, and when you wake you’ll try to remember your dream, but it’ll fall through your fingers like water and sand.

Easy enough to sketch the Sweet Spring Forest and the Castle Mountains, the Moonstone Palace, the Painted Sea, and the Bluestone River. But that wasn’t all. He would have to draw Skya, the Valkyries, the unicorns and silver tigers, the baby he’d saved and named Kaylee, and hardest of all…he’d have to draw Jeremy. No, not Jeremy. He would always remember Jeremy Andrew Cox, his best friend from back home. He had to draw Sir Jeremy, the Red Knight. His knight. It was him he had to forget. His knight and their nights.

I’m sorry, my prince. I didn’t want this either. But the rules are written into the world.

It’s all right. I can do it.

Since he had to forget all his beautiful memories, he decided he deserved to forget his worst memory too. He drew a picture of an electrical cord in his father’s hand.

—

Last night here. What do you want to do?

One more trip to the firemoths before we leave.

Why? You won’t remember them, and I can’t tell you about them.

Jeremy’s eyes so wide, his face so young, the sadness in his voice…

It’s your favorite place. And you’ll remember for the both of us. Just promise me something. One last order, I guess.

Anything.

I think it’s going to be a long time before we can come back.

Maybe. Probably.

I won’t remember I love you, so I don’t know what’ll happen. I won’t ask you to, like, wait for me. You know what I mean.

I know.

But please, don’t forget you love me.

Is that an order?

Pretend it is.

A kiss. The first kiss of their last night. Then a whispered promise in the dark.

Yes, Your Highness.

—

Finally, a chance to talk to Jeremy alone.

You think we’re dreaming? Rafe asked.

If so, we’re having the same dream. This place is unbelievable. She said we could stay as long as we want.

I want.

—

Jeremy sat at the feet of their queen, head in her lap as she stroked his hair. Rafe on the rug by the fireplace next to them, sketching them. Evening. Candles lit. Fire glowing. They tell one another stories. He has never known happiness like this. If they could only stay this way forever.

Your turn to read, my prince.

What are we reading?

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

—

A hand, impossibly strong, yanking him out the basement door to the shed. The shed, the shed, he hadn’t been out to the shed since he was eight.