The first thing Feyla became aware of was the biting pain in her leg. The second was Sedgewick screaming.

"You cowardly son of a witch! COME BACK HERE SO I CAN—"

Feyla's eyes fluttered open. Her head pounded to the time of Sedgewick's barrage of curses.

"—Until it's shoved so far up that it pops out your bloody nose!"

She blinked blearily in the dim twilight. A full moon provided the roof with enough light for her to see Daydrel coming to as well. Sedgewick needed no moon. The angry orange sphere hovering around him burned like a vengeful star. He swerved around and jabbed a finger at her and Daydrel. "Tell me, please tell me, that he missed one of you and you know which direction he ran off too."

"What makes you think I'd tell you if I did?" snapped Daydrel.

Sedgewick's ears sunk back dangerously. "Because the ground is quite a ways off and you don't have the magic to cushion your fall."

Feyla tried to stand but ended up doubled over and covering the roof in a fresh coat of half-digested lunch. That can't be good for the tiles, she thought, feeling strangely divorce from her surroundings.

Sedgewick didn't let her stay that way for long. He flicked a handkerchief from his pocket and coolly held it out to her.

Feyla wiped her mouth on it. "Thank you," she choked out. If she hadn't just been sick, the coldness of his actions would have made her that way.

"Do you remember where he went?" Sedgewick asked the same way he would have asked anyone.

Another question, the question, hung unasked and unanswered between them. Given Daydrel's presence and Desden's absence, Sedgewick had apparently decided to leave it that way.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," she snapped. Tears built in the backs of her eyes. Feyla forced them down. No time for that. She had too much left to fix still.

Sedgewick let out a sound that cruelly imitated a laugh. "No. Gates no. None of that. You don't get to...to..."

"You're bleeding," Daydrel blurted out. He moved to help Feyla up and away from her vomit but Sedgewick lurched in front of him and gave the healer a glare that cut deeper than Feyla's wound. His arms, still warm from using magic, wrapped around her with all the warmth that he'd avoided previously. Feyla almost smiled. She leaned against him and felt the rod-straight form of his back stiffen with all the coldness that he'd shown earlier. The light from his magic offset the sharp outline of his nose and glinted off the matching color of his eyes. Eyes that avoided hers even as he helped her. Not forgiven then.

Do you blame him?

"Can you stand?" he asked. His voice began cool and reserved but collapsed into a worried waver when she finally caught his eyes.

Feyla nodded yes and Sedgewick released her like a burning potion beaker. "Where's Delia?" she asked. Focus on the problem. She and Sedgewick could talk later.

"And my mages," Sedgewick mumbled. He left her side and went to the edge of the roof. Sedgewick's voice resounded crisp and harsh, summoning Sandrina and Mydel with several creative profanities interspersed between their names.

With Sedgewick no longer hissing at him, Daydrel approached and helped her sit down again. He knelt beside her and began tending to her cut. "Delia was going to follow along at ground level. She's probably making her way up now." After cleaning her cut, Daydrel applied a basic healing spell. Feyla watched her skin knit back into place while the brown-red of his magic slid across the thankfully shallow cut. The new skin was shiny and thin but still covered the wound.

"We need to get moving," Daydrel whispered under his breath.

"Finally, he says something intelligent," Sedgewick interrupted. "Now tell me who this Jaerick is and the rest of you are free to go home and nurse your failures."

"He's my husband." Delia finished clambering over the side and onto the roof. "Not that things like that matter to you, mage."

Feyla held out a hand and Daydrel helped her to her feet. She winced, but it felt better than previously.

Delia eyed the freshly healed wound on Feyla's leg. "What happened?"

"He got away!" Sandrina's voice carried from below. Everyone craned over the edge to see her dropping an unconscious Mydel to the ground. "And while I'm on the subject, do you know how frustrating it is to have to carry—"

"I am not in the mood, Sandrina!" Sedgewick shouted back.

"You intruded on our strike, couldn't even catch the wizard, and you let Feyla get hurt again?!" Delia turned away from Daydrel, who'd partially filled her in, and shook her finger at Sedgewick.

"I would've had him if you healers hadn't—"

"By had him do you mean killed him?"

"We were here first, mage. It was our opportunity to—"

"I at least sensed the strike coming but Mydel—

"SHUT UP!"

It took Feyla a moment to realize that vicious, crushing shout had originated from her. Everyone on the rooftop went silent and even Sandrina's voice below had lessened to a soft muttering. "Desden knew we were coming. He knew the doors and the windows we'd try to go in through, he was practically expecting us!"

"Because he's had visitors before. I knew it made no sense that I never had anyone check the docks until now." Sedgewick tried for his signature arrogant smirk but it quickly twisted into a grimace.

"He's figured out a way to do what Jaerick did. Erase people's memories," Feyla explained to Daydrel and Delia.

"Jaerick is a healer. His spells are not black magic." Delia let out an angry puff of air through her long nose.

"No one's saying they are," Daydrel reassured her.

"Carrow's on the other hand," Sedgewick cut in darkly. "He's figured out how to erase recent memories. The man is probably trying to recreate your husband's spell so he can reverse it."

"That's not all he can do." Feyla clutched her throat at the recollection fo the tendrils. "While you were all downstairs...he...he went inside my head and looked at my memories."

Everyone erupted into chaos again, tossing question after question Feyla's way. She answered as many as she could, giving special focus to Sedgewick's. His brow was creased, and part of her selfishly hoped it was out of concern for her instead of concern over the spell in general.

"But why does he want Jaerick?" Delia asked. Her hands had dropped to the side. They trembled, but she'd restrained them from outright shaking.

"Because he still can't figure it out," Sedgewick smirked in truth this time. "When the new healing house didn't have all the notes he needed, Desden must have decided to get them from the source."

Delia took several breaths. "This is fine. He doesn't even know where Jaerick is. Maybe we could lure him in or something."

Feyla and Daydrel exchanged a glance. Delia caught on immediately. Her voice rolled with a growl. "The dangerous wizard doesn't know where my not-a-battle-healer husband is, right?"

"I think a better question would be how likely is Carrow to strike immediately," Sedgewick muttered half to himself.

It took about three seconds for everyone to reach the exact same realization. Everyone here was after Desden Carrow. And everyone here now knew the next place he would be.

Daydrel and Delia dashed off first. "Hurry up, Feyla!" Delia shouted, her hook already in place to rappel down.

Feyla wavered, her feet shuffling forward while she looked back at Sedgewick. His jaw was sealed shut and his warm orange eyes had hardened to that cold copper. He tugged his hat firmly over his eyes.

"Sedgewick..."

"Don't." He spun his staff onto his back and dropped back onto the side he'd climbed up. Feyla heard the rush of magic he used when he was slowing a purposeful fall.

She ignored the shouts of Daydrel and Delia long enough to craned over the side Sedgewick had dropped down. The building wasn't too tall but looking down at him made it feel impossibly far. Like the infinite chasm that Aarya the Pure-touched had to climb down to prove herself and save her lover, Breyguard.

This wasn't that story. Feyla watched Sedgewick jerk Mydel off the ground and push him toward Sandrina, who'd already taken off to the Healer's Guild house. Feyla gripped her betrothal necklace now dangling free of her healer's cloak. "I can explain." Her throat sounded hoarser than when the tendrils were around it.

Sedgewick adjusted his hat slowly and deliberately. When he next spoke, every word rang crisp and decisive. "Go back to your guild, Miss Everbloom."

He left her in a blur of magic and fury. Feyla lurched forward, unable to stop him. She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw tears forming in his eyes.

For a single, wild moment, Feyla thought about throwing herself over the side and running after him, clinging to him until that raw, aching look on his face had no choice but to melt away in the face of her reassurance. Her heart rose out of her chest and up to her mouth. Feyla's feet shuffled forward.

Then he was out of sight and the weight of a hand on her shoulder kept her tethered to her spot and unable to collapse.

"Feyla, we need to—" Daydrel's voice started out urgently before it suddenly softened. "Are you crying?"

Feyla finally registered the hot tears on her burning face. She brushed the tears away but lacked the will to remove his hand. Sedgewick...

Feyla clenched her arms around the pit gnawing at her stomach. Daydrel wrapped his other arm around those, his hold warm and strong. His words sounded seductively soft in her ear. "He doesn't deserve you," Daydrel whispered. Then he released her and she was left to hold herself steady. "You can't wait here, Feyla."

He's right, she thought, nearly hating him for it. And that wasn't all she hated. She hated that Desden had got the upper hand on her, that she'd put Jaerick in trouble, that Sedgewick had run away from her again and this time she couldn't even blame him. She especially hated that for a few fleeting moments, she thrilled at the chase, the catch, the fight.

Yes, she hated a lot of things right now. But she couldn't change any of them. The only thing left was to finish what she started and hope—no, and wait for Sedgewick to forgive her. He had to forgive her, right?

A hair tickled her cheek. Feyla removed a pin from her bun and swept the hair back into place. Her face felt wet, but no longer burning. Daydrel was right. It wasn't in her nature to wait here sobbing while Jaerick was in danger.

She had a fight to finish.

**************************

Author's Note: Posting from vacation but here's the new chapter of Magic's Memories! A bit slower than the last one but hopefully still okay? I struggled a lot with this one and ended up adding like 200 more words to the ending last minute. Poor Sedgewick... Will he and Feyla get a chance to talk about what happened? Who will get to Desden first? And what about poor, oblivious Jaerick?

Just a heads up, I'm going to be moving a few days after I get back from vacation which is going to seriously cut into my writing time. Plus, I'm planning to do some more editing for Magic's Minister before I enter it in the Wattys. I'll try to still finish the next chapter on time, but no promises. I do have a sneak peek this time though!

Chapter 32: "Wait here and don't leave without me," Desden had told him. That had been hours ago.