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"Gwen? Can you hear me? Try and respond if you can."
Grandma Frost's voice filtered through the fogginess and by the end of the sentence I could hear her clearly. Now if only opening my eyes was just as easy.
"I saw her eyelids move!" Daphne's unmistakeable shriek of joy pierced the air. "Come on Gwen , you can do it!"
Three worried faces stared back at me once I was successful. Grandma Frost and Gwen I knew but the third may well have been a stranger off the street. Albeit a very hot stranger who was probably my age or a little bit older.
"Where am I?" my voice was strong.
"You're in the sick ward dear," Grandma's Frost warm hand comfortingly encircled my own. "Logan brought you here after you collapsed." What a name for such a guy...
"Thanks for everything...Logan, right? And they say chivalry is dead." I mustered my brightest smile and turned to Logan. His face was one of stone. My smile fell like it was being overpowered by the force of gravity.
"Nice joke Gypsy Girl but you didn't hit your head that hard." His laugh had no humour and his eyes dared me to agree. I gulped. THOSE EYES.
"Why would I lie? And why are you calling me Gypsy Girl? It's not like I call you...what are you, a Roman?"
Now his face paled.
"I'm a Spartan. And that's what you call me." Daphne placed her arms on Logan's forearm.
"I don't think she's kidding Logan." My expression of utter confusion must have made him agree because he then roughly ran his hand through his hair. God, that was sexy.
"Just wait a minute." I held my palms up and out towards him. "Perhaps my touch magic will kick in and restore my memories." There was silence in the room save for the slight swish of Logan's jeans as he walked over. I closed my eyes and waited expectantly for the wave of memories to come crashing down.
His fingers laced through mine and were held tightly. Except for his physical warmth I felt nothing. My purple eyes met his blue ones. With each passing second the love in his eyes became tainted with dismay and despair.
"Nothing," my voice began to fail me. "I don't feel a thing." Logan silently bowed his head towards his knees, his hands holding mine even tighter.
"And I know the answer why." Nickamedes walked in, his limp nearly non-existent. "That beautiful piece of jewellery around young Gwendolyn's neck is the necklace of Mnemosyne." A gasp escaped my throat. Nickamedes' sad smile greeted me when I turned round to face him.
"Yes," he told me. That was all I needed.
"What does that mean?" Daphne asked anxiously. "Tell us Gwen!" I sighed and withdrew my hands from Logan's, ignoring his pained expression.
"The wearer of the necklace will completely forget the person who gave it to them. And I presume Logan gave it to me because...I have no clue who he is." Logan turned to Nickamedes. They looked strikingly similar.
"How can we reverse its effect?" Logan asked urgently. But I knew the answer in my heart. And I didn't like it at all.
"We can't."