“This is the only one I know.” Merlin had opened a thick potions book and tapped his paw on the drawing of a pink brew. “But I think a lot of the ingredients can’t be found in Holtgaard.”

Orion studied it thoughtfully. His eyes scanned the list, and he wrinkled his nose when he saw “butterfly dragon wings.” He couldn’t imagine anyone in Holtgaard getting their hands on that—let alone Fleur. She was clever and willing to go far—but how would she get those wings? He couldn’t see her sneaking into the forest, knowing exile would await her if she were caught. Summoning them magically wasn’t an option either—those memories would be read and she’d be punished for it.

Maybe she had met with an exile in secret. Someone like Luther wouldn’t have a problem with that. But again, there was the issue of social control. Unless she had tampered with her memories, she would get found out that way too.

Would she go that far?

He bit the inside of his cheek and let out a long sigh. “I’m seeing what I want to see, aren’t I?”

“You haven’t had enough interaction to draw any conclusions.”

“He said it himself. That it was because of me.”

“Maybe it’s some kind of allergy. Something you carry with you.” He hesitated. “A shadow clinging to you.”

“Locke?” He growled. Of course. Still, that explanation gnawed at him. “But it started before he even saw me. When he was still on his way here.” He rested his chin on his fist and looked back at the potion recipe in front of him. “This book is over a hundred years old. She could’ve used this as a base and then added her own twist. Experimented with it.”

Not that he’d ever thought of Fleur as some gifted potion-maker, but who knew how she’d developed over the past five years?

“Okay, let’s say he’s not under the influence of a love potion, and it’s not a reaction to Locke either. What else could it be, if it’s clearly connected to me?”

Merlin looked around, scanning the many books. Most of them he’d read, and with his infallible memory, he knew exactly what was where. “It might be connected to those lost memories,” he mused. “Something stopped his from being erased too. Some sort of block. Does he have a strong memory of you? A memory tied to you that the rest might have clung to? Something disrupting the usual process, causing physical symptoms?”

Orion thought of their brief kiss at the graduation party. To him, it was a powerful memory—but to Cody? He doubted it. It was something Orion had longed for for years, and he’d caught Cody off guard with it. It had been almost an act of desperation, and Cody had only mumbled that he couldn’t do this, that he was with Fleur.

It hadn’t magically broken their bond.

“I don’t think so,” he muttered. “He lived rent-free in my head, sure, but not the other way around. There are people he has much stronger memories of.”

“People who’ve also lost memories. I suspect they only stay intact if they’re tied to someone who lives outside Holtgaard. Someone who still remembers.”

“Then why is Cody the only one? My parents surely let go of their memories of me the moment they could, but Nova?” His sister had been heartbroken when he had to leave. “And there are others in Holtgaard who are connected to an exile.”

“Maybe they were afraid to admit they still had memories, scared others would distrust them. I doubt Cody had one-on-one talks with everyone.”

Orion couldn’t argue much with that. He sighed and leaned back. He’d hoped it was something magical—something he could fix with magic. But this… this sounded complicated. He had no idea how to help Cody if the cause was in his mind and his body was reacting to clinging onto a handful of last memories.

“Alright. Then we need to test this theory. I’m pretty sure my sister still has her memories too—I need to find out if he spoke to her. And whether that one memory really means something to him.”

Orion left the old study room and peeked around the corner of his bedroom door. Cody was still asleep; he could hear his deep breathing. Then it would have to wait. Hopefully, a good night’s rest would help him feel better.

It was getting late anyway—and Orion was tired too, after the long journey. He washed himself in the tub and curled up on the sofa downstairs, where Spekkie and Basil soon snuggled up against him.

The next morning, Orion was up early. The couch wasn’t particularly comfortable, and besides, he had other things on his mind than sleep. It was the first time he’d ever had a human guest, which meant he had to keep his food supplies better stocked. In the kitchen, he lifted the cloth from the sourdough jar and inspected it. It looked airy and bubbly and smelled lightly sour. He added some water and flour, then turned to the bowl he usually kept the dough in. It was empty.

The attic could only be reached by the ladder that stood outside, leaning against the house. Orion pulled back some climbing plants and climbed up with the nearly empty jar. The sun was just peeking over the trees, bathing the forest in a pink glow. Instead of immediately going into the attic, Orion paused to take it in.

Something so simple, a scene that played out every day, and yet it took his breath away each time. As if the colors shifted just a little differently every day.

The rising sunlight seemed to reach straight into his chest and filled him with warmth. A smile spread across his face. Cody was here! Sure—with plenty of problems—but he was eager to solve them together.

Orion turned his back to the dawn and hoisted himself into the attic, where he found himself surrounded by hanging baskets filled with unground wheat kernels. Against the right wall stood a barrel of finely sifted flour, which he used to fill the jar.

He climbed back down the ladder. It wasn’t until he was walking back to the door that he noticed the mossy pile of stones lying a little farther off. Frowning, he looked at it. It wasn’t until the pile rose and fell that he realized it was the ogre. A smile played on his lips. Only Cody could manage to befriend an ogre in a matter of days.

Orion stepped back inside. Before he could even grab the small hand mill, he heard the flapping of wings and Nezumi flew in. She usually turned up her nose at household tasks, but she did enjoy kneading dough with her paws.

“Sleep well?” he asked. She was the only one who didn’t want to sleep indoors and preferred the fresh air.

“With that ogre so close? I woke up multiple times thinking the house was collapsing. Turned out the creature was just rolling over.”

Grinning, he added the first portion to the mill. It was probably just a bit of groaning; Nezumi liked to exaggerate.

“Do you think he’ll stay long?” Orion liked feeding his guests, but he had no idea what ogres ate.

“I don’t know. He promised to help Cody find you. And now that that’s done…”

“He’ll probably stay at least until his friend’s doing better.”

“And… is his friend doing better?” Nezumi tilted her head as she watched him continue grinding flour.

“He’s still sleeping, I suppose.”

“But did you and Merlin find a solution?”

“We have a theory. Now I need to test it. Here, you take over? I’ll get the water, sourdough starter, and salt.”

Nezumi meowed in protest but placed her paw on the handle anyway, tempted by the idea of getting her paws in the dough sooner.

They’d just finished kneading the dough when Orion heard the floorboards creak. The footsteps were too heavy for his cats, and Orion stepped away from the kitchen to greet his guest.

Cody’s blond hair stuck up in all directions, and he rubbed sleep from his eyes as he shuffled into the living room. “Hey,” he yawned.

The moment Orion greeted him back, Cody froze, as if he’d forgotten he was here. A flush crept into his cheeks, and he ran a self-conscious hand through his hair as if suddenly trying to tame it.

Orion's first theory came rushing back to the surface. He’d just have to ask him later. In a way that wouldn’t give Cody a heart attack. He smiled at his guest. “I’m glad to see you’re steadier on your feet. Nezumi and I are baking bread—but it’ll need to rise for a few hours before we can shape it and put it in the oven. So, no bread today, but there’s still blueberry tarts and chestnut porridge in the cold pantry.”

He pointed to the cupboard where he placed blocks of ice every day. At the bottom were things that needed to stay frozen—like meat—and on top, items that just needed to stay cool.

Cody nodded, a smile tugging on his lips. Over the past few days, he’d likely been finding his own breakfast—or had been led to it by the cats.

Orion took out plates for both of them and set them on the counter. It wasn’t very wide, and his arm brushed against Cody’s when they both reached for the bowl of grapes. Their eyes flicked to each other at the same time. Orion didn’t miss that Cody’s hand started trembling again, even though he quickly clenched it into a fist to hide it.

The questions Orion had planned to ask burned on his tongue, but he held them back so Cody could have a proper breakfast first.

Orion filled his bowl with porridge and added some fruit to a small dish. Cody was ready too and glanced around, unsure where to sit down with his meal.

The cats watched quietly from the sofa or the table. They could sense Orion wanted a private moment with his old schoolmate.

Of course Cody didn’t pick up on that.

“Let’s eat outside,” Orion suggested. He led the way to the small seating area bathed in sunlight. “No other human has ever sat at this table. It still feels unreal.”

Cody sat down. He didn’t respond, too focused on trying to place his food down with his shaking hands. He squinted as if trying to fight off a headache.

Orion bit his cheek. “I wanted to wait until after breakfast to bring up anything serious, but since you’re already reacting to me like this, maybe that’s unwise. So I’ll just ask the big question now: are you attracted to me?”

Cody’s eyes went wide, the color in his face rivaling that of a tomato. “W-what? Is this a joke?”

Orion shook his head seriously. “No. An honest answer might just save your life.”