The sound of horses came from outside the shop. People were shouting and running in the street.
Lyra peered out from behind the window. Several soldiers dressed in black were searching for them. They were the Shadow Guard from the palace.
“We have to leave now,” Lyra said.
She took a gray robe from behind the door and handed it to Elian. Elian’s shoulder was still wounded. Blood seeped through his clothes.
“Put this on. We’ll go through the back door.”
Elian nodded. They left through the kitchen door and entered the narrow alley behind the shop.
Morning fog covered the street. But Lyra knew they couldn’t hide for long. The smell of Elian’s blood would lead the tracking hounds straight to them.
They had only gone a few steps when Elian stopped. He braced himself against the wall to keep from falling.
“Are you all right?” Lyra asked.
“I don’t know,” Elian replied. He looked at the blood on his hand. “My wound is getting worse.”
Lyra examined his shoulder. “We need to find somewhere to treat you.”
“There’s no time.” Elian looked toward the main road. “They’ll close all the city gates.”
Lyra stared at him. “How do you know?”
Elian fell silent. Confusion clouded his face.
“I don’t remember ever studying their tactics,” he said. “But I know what they’re going to do.”
“So your body still remembers your past?”
“Maybe.” Elian lowered his head. “My mind is empty, but this fear feels very familiar.”
Before Lyra could answer, the sound of dogs barking came from the end of the alley.
They were coming.
Lyra immediately grabbed Elian’s hand. “Come on!”
They ran through the alley, which was littered with trash and wooden crates. Elian tried to keep up, but his steps grew slower and slower. Blood kept dripping from his shoulder.
A small iron door stood ahead of them. Lyra knew the place. Behind it was the old house belonging to Mira, a healer who often helped memory-flower sellers.
Lyra knocked three times.
There was no answer.
“She might be out,” Elian said.
Lyra knocked again. “Mira! It’s me, Lyra!”
The door opened a crack. An old woman appeared, her face filled with worry.
“Quick, get inside,” she whispered. “The soldiers are searching every house.”
Mira led them to the back room. It was small and packed with bottles of medicine.
“Sit down,” Mira told Elian.
She cleaned the wound on Elian’s shoulder. Elian bit his lip to keep from crying out.
“That sword nearly hit the bone,” Mira said. “If treatment had been delayed, you might never have been able to move your arm again.”
“Can you heal it?” Lyra asked.
“I can, but we have to hurry.”
Mira took out a white cloth and the green healing draught. As the draught touched Elian’s wound, the Black Petal inside Lyra’s pouch grew warm again.
Elian immediately clutched his head.
“I saw something,” he said.
Lyra moved closer. “What did you see?”
“A girl standing in a garden.”
“Was she like me?”
Elian closed his eyes. “I couldn’t see her face. But she was holding a white flower.”
Lyra’s heart began to race.
“Did the girl say anything?”
Elian nodded slowly.
“She said, ‘Don’t go back to the palace.’”
The room suddenly fell silent.
Lyra looked at the Black Petal hidden in her pocket. “Maybe that was your memory.”
“Or maybe it was a trap,” Elian said.
For the first time, he looked at Lyra with suspicion.
“In that memory, the girl was standing near you.”
Lyra fell silent.
“I don’t know who that girl is,” Elian continued. “But every time I look at you, my head starts to hurt. What if you were involved in the loss of my memories?”
The question made Lyra’s chest tighten.
“I could have left you to die in my shop,” she said. “But I chose to save you.”
“Why?”
Lyra gripped her pouch. “Because before you forgot, you once asked me to wait for you.”
Elian stared at her in shock. “When did I say that?”
“I don’t know either. I only saw it in the Black Petal.”
Suddenly, the soldiers’ voices rang out from outside the house.
“Search this house!”
Mira turned off the lamp. She pointed to a small door in the floor.
“Go into the basement. There’s an exit leading to the river.”
Lyra helped Elian to his feet. Before going down, Elian looked at her.
“If I forget you later, what should I do?”
Lyra tried to smile, though her eyes were beginning to fill with tears.
“Trust your feelings, not just your memories.”
They descended into the basement. Above them, the house door was being pounded hard.
As Lyra closed the secret door, the Black Petal in her pocket began to tremble. This time, writing appeared across its surface.
Don’t let the prince remember who killed him.
Lyra read the words, her face turning pale.
Elian stood beside her. “Who killed me?”
Lyra did not answer right away.
In the distance, the sound of the river grew clearer. They still didn’t know whom they could trust. But one thing was certain: the answers about Elian’s past lay within the Black Petal.
And every answer would make Elian forget Lyra a little more.