The Forgotten Locket by Lisa Mangum

couldn’t take my eyes off the man who stood before me. I didn’t want to.
     
    He was part sunshine, part shadow. He was bright as a diamond.
     
    I heard a strangled groan escape from Orlando, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him head toward the figure, his movements uncoordinated and hurried.
     
    “No, don’t—” I started, but that was as far as I got.
     
    Orlando’s attention was completely focused on the newcomer and he heedlessly stepped forward—directly into the thin trickle of the new branch of the river. He realized his mistake immediately. He had one moment to look up at me in surprise and anguish, and then he disappeared.
     
    I gasped. I wasn’t sure where Orlando had gone. I hoped he would simply return to the apothecary shop, but I had no way of knowing.
     
    For a moment, I considered following Orlando, but there was something about this new boy that made me stay, made me want to wait for him, made me want to hear him speak and say my name again.
     
    The stranger continued to walk directly toward me as though he could see me even with the bandage across his eyes.
     
    He walked right up to the edge of the narrow branch of the river and stopped in front of me, his toes so close to the flickering waves that I could see the shifting images reflected in his boots.
     
    “I promised I would be waiting for you,” he said, his voice soft and low, ragged with regret.
     
    I shivered. I couldn’t speak. At the sound of his voice, the darkness in my memories turned to light. My body remembered what my mind could not: the feel of his hair on my fingers, the smell of his skin, the taste of his lips. The feeling of flying. I knew him.
     
    But unlike when I had fallen under Lorenzo’s spell at the cathedral, this time my certainty wasn’t based on a false memory or a wish of what someone else wanted me to feel.
     
    This time, I knew.
     
    “I promised to protect you.” He took a breath, then slowly reached out his hand across the split river. Gold chains gleamed around the corded muscles of his wrists.
     
    I drew a breath too, my heart already aching with anticipation. I reached for his hand with mine. Our fingers touched, and at that small point of contact, I felt the shiver move from me to him.
     
    “I failed you,” he said with a sorrow as vast as the ocean. “I wasn’t there when you needed me most. And because of that, Zo was able to hurt you.” His fingers trembled as they slid into place against my flat palm. “I swore to you that I would make it up to you. I would make it right.”
     
    “How?” The single word encompassed all the questions I wanted to ask. It was all I could manage.
     
    In answer, he took a step into the broken river.
     
    I gasped, expecting him to disappear like Orlando had, but he didn’t.
     
    He took another step, and then he was across the river, closing the space between us. He stood next to me on the bank, close enough that when he breathed, the edges of his shirt brushed against mine.
     
    I heard a rustle of chimes as delicate as a wish rise up and encircle us both.
     
    He caught my hands in his and took a deep breath. “I know you don’t remember me”—his voice trembled—“but I think I can reverse what has happened to you. I think I can help you regain your memories. Will you let me try? Will you trust me?”
     
    I nodded instinctively, remembering the wish I’d made to Orlando and knowing in my heart that right here, right now, I had found the right answer to my impossible problem.
     
    He pulled me into his arms, and I bit my lip. I hadn’t realized how much I had felt like my life was in free fall until I was suddenly caught, cradled. Held.
     
    Here was a safe harbor in the storm of my uncertainty. Here was a strength and a comfort I hadn’t imagined existed. Here, I felt like I was finally home.
     
    He pressed me close to him, molding his body around mine. His voice whispered in my ear. “Then listen to me. To my voice. To the