“Will. He stopped you, before you could take all of… me.”
“If he hadn’t, I wonder if I would have been more powerful. I may have been able to defeat all of the Wizard’s Council much sooner. There would have been more death, more destruction, and I am sure that I would have achieved my goal. Then have had that power set to Providence’s goal.”
“What was her goal? What did she get out of all this effort and bloodshed?”
“There was a covenant, a debt,” Thayl said. “She would help me destroy all of the Wizard’s Council for my revenge, and then I would repay the debt to her.”
“Repay it? How?”
“I never discovered what I was to do for her. Some of the Wizard’s Council still lived, so she had not fulfilled her side, so I had no reason to follow through with mine.”
Memory tried exercising her dream control skills and summoned a vision of the witch back into the room. She stood frozen like a mannequin and Memory walked around her, trying to peak under the hood to see who was underneath. The shadowed face just revealed a normal-looking old woman, with a spatter of blood on her wrinkled lips.
“She’s one scary old lady that’s for sure. I bet she would have answers for me, but I’ll be damned if I want to be in the same room as her.”
Thayl looked from Memory to the frozen vision of Providence with a frown. “I am sorry that I don’t have answers for you. Though there is one thing Providence told me that you should know. If you travel through to Hell, there is no guaranteed way to return. She would say it is easy to get from here to there, but not the other way around. The only way I managed to come back was because Providence maintained the gateway at this end.”
Memory shrugged. “I haven’t really thought of going back since I don’t really remember it there. My home, family, friends – they’re all here now.”
“Just keep in mind, if you ever change your decision about going back to this world you grew up in,” Thayl gestured to the room around them, “Be sure it is what you want, as you might not be able to return to Avall.”
Chapter 6
“Mem, it’s Bron-marbh Ai-leadh.” Eloryn enunciated each syllable carefully. She knew the Branding spell would have no effect unless used in a situation where the Pact rightly allowed it, but saying it aloud still made her uncomfortable.
“Bron-marf Allalee. Oh pfft.” Memory sputtered out, obviously aware how far off her pronunciation was. Eloryn frowned at Memory’s inability to articulate the behest. She should have learned the Branding spell by now, and Eloryn felt neglectful that it had taken this long to find time to teach her. Hearing about Memory’s recent run in with an unseelie fawn made the lesson more urgent. She’d only just told Eloryn about being trapped in a fairy ring. The thought of losing her sister to an unseelie fae terrified Eloryn almost as much as the fact that Memory had taken so long to tell her about it.
Both Memory and Eloryn’s guards and handlers trailed a few feet behind as they made their way to the Round Room, acting as though they couldn’t hear or had no interest in the girls’ conversation. Memory kept glancing at them like she was embarrassed to be getting this lesson here. She folded her arms childishly. “Damn it. I can’t get it. I don’t even understand how it’s meant to work anyway,”
“That’s all right. I’ve never used it myself and hope neither of us ever need to. To be honest, the Brand is more of a punishment than a defense. It can only be used if a fae has already acted unjustly toward you, even a small act of violence. And you must remember it’s a death sentence. Not only does the Brand itself kill the branded within twenty-four hours, but the Brand is also a sign that the fae, or human, has violated the pact and can be hunted and killed by anyone. But it’s important to at least know the words, so you have the option of threatening its use as a deterrent. Try one last time? Bronmarbh Aileadh.”
“Bron-marv Allay-ay,” Memory repeated.
“Almost.” Not quite.
“Why do I have to come to this meeting anyway?” Memory moaned. “It’s not like I was invited.”
“I want you to be there. It’s important to me.” Eloryn felt like she hadn’t seen much of Memory recently. The growing gulf between them made her stomach ache. Her time had been almost completely consumed with rehearsals and planning for the upcoming coronation. She’d been hearing rumors of how her sister had been spending time without her, from fairy rings to public taverns, and it increasingly concerned her. She refused to admit it also made her jealous. At least Memory was accepting some help from palace staff now. Her new handmaiden was doing a good job of keeping Memory presentable, looking like the princess she was. Her hair was almost always up now in a style that disguised the short cut, and she wore elegant gowns Eloryn was sure Memory wouldn’t have picked herself, like the shimmering aqua dress with a giant bow for a bustle she had on now. Eloryn knew how some people talked about Memory and was happy to see her fitting in even a little bit more. “I want to help you to understand magic and your connection with it. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do that yet.”
“I’d love a chance to talk to you about that stuff too. There are things I have to tell you and haven’t had a chance. But we’re not going to get to do that at Hayes’s dumb meeting, or here,” Memory said, glaring back at the following guards again.
As the twins approached the entrance to the Round Room, they heard angry shouting. Their bodyguards reacted swiftly, breaking from their position behind the girls to run forward and create a wall in front of them. Peeking between the bulk of their guards, Eloryn saw Hayes in heated conversation with a red-faced man who she didn’t recognize. The rest of the Council surrounded them, muttering amongst themselves.
“It can’t be allowed. The kingdom shouldn’t be ruled by some little girl who’s been who-knows-where for who-knows-how-long! Not at such a fragile and crucial time,” the man shouted, each word a short, sharp bark.
“I don’t like this guy already,” Memory whispered.
Hayes lifted his hands in a calming gesture. “We have invited you here to allow a reasonable discussion. If you will not be reasonable then there is no more to discuss. Should you calm yourself you could meet with Princess Eloryn and see what a fine young lady she is, and you should have confidence that we the Council and our knowledge and experience stand behind her.”
“In a role that is not yours. Running the government is not the role of wizards.” The man waved away Hayes’s gesture. “I don’t need to remind you how powerful my family name is. We are the ones who should be ruling, and I’m willing to fight for that right should the need arise.”
“Quiet yourself and think twice before making such rash threats. Perhaps if you spent some time with the girls. They are, after all, family and becoming close to them could prove beneficial, providing you with the power that you desire.”
“From what I hear those girls are nothing but harlots. I want nothing to do with them. At least my family maintains its dignity.”
“Then might I remind you, Sir Ewain, that you in fact have no rightful claim to the throne? You may quip about the pedigree of the sisters, but unlike you they are of Maellan blood and are therefore the heirs. Be warned you speak of treason.”
Eloryn thought to her studies on the family trees of Avall nobility. From the name Ewain and the crest he bore on his vest, Eloryn made a swift guess at who this man was.
Eloryn pushed through her bodyguards, ordering them from her path and strode in to join the conversation.
“Dear Uncle,” she began.
The man snorted in disgust and pushed past both Memory and Eloryn on his way out. Their guards stepped in and moved to apprehend the man for the insult, but Eloryn waved the order to free him, and he stormed off down the corridor.
“Uncle?” Memory asked. She and Eloryn moved into the Round Room where the tension of the argument had everyone on their feet.
“Yes. Your father’s brother.” Hayes moved over to the table where he took a seat, motioning for the sisters an
d the rest of the Council to do the same. He ran a hand over his short cropped salt and pepper hair. He seemed tired, making him look as old as some of the other Councilors. “He’s hotheaded and believes that his family has a right to the throne. Whilst there’s no legality to it, they could still pose a threat should they gain popular support.”
“First I’ve heard of any uncle,” Memory said. “Do I have more family I don’t know about?”
“None of Maellan blood,” Eloryn answered. “Yet there are some on our father’s side. I’d hoped to welcome them as beloved family. I had no comprehension they had such ill feelings toward us.”
“I’m sorry they are not the family you’ve hoped for, princess,” Hayes said. “I’ve been in talks with them to try and settle the matter, but it seems they resent your family’s bloodline for what happened to their son and their brother, King Edmund.”
“That’s not exactly fair,” Memory said. “It’s not as though Loredanna was the one who picked him as her husband.”
Hayes, who already looked worn from the argument with Ewain, glared at Memory. Eloryn wished Memory wasn’t so blunt sometimes.
Waylan spoke up from across the table. “I would have to agree with Princess Memory in this case. We the Council do have much to atone for, and our taking on so many roles in rebuilding Avall is clearly agitating people. I understand the need for our guidance at this time, but we need to start putting the normal order of government in place. Ours is the role of guardians and teachers of magic in the land, not of ruling and politics. Seeing the Council step back from that may placate Ewain and his family.”
“And when should I step back, Waylan, now? While rash families are hovering the throne awaiting any mistake by our young princesses?” Hayes said.
“Their rage is misdirected. Perhaps the execution of Thayl will calm their boiling blood,” a Councilor from the far end of the table suggested. Lambeth, Eloryn reminded herself, still teaching herself the names of all the Councilors “After all, he is in fact the one to blame.”
Memory rose to her feet in an abrupt movement.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you guys talking about? What execution?” she asked.
“Having been found guilty of high treason, murder, and numerous other crimes, Thayl is to be publically executed not long after coronation as part of ongoing celebrations,” Hayes explained.
Memory shook her head. “You’re using the words executed and celebrations in the same sentence here. Have I just gone to crazy land? You’re not really talking about killing Thayl in public?”
Lambeth spoke up again, his voice crackly and dry with age. “The sentence for Thayl’s crimes is to be hung, drawn, and quartered. Crime in our lands is treated very seriously, perhaps unlike in the lands where you have been.”
Memory glared at him, mouth hanging open.
Eloryn stood up by her sister’s side. “I must admit, Council, the sentence does seem ghastly. Avall suffered many years of such terrors under Thayl’s rule. Perhaps we should reconsider, so that Avall’s new beginning is free from such bloodshed.”
“What would you have us do? Have him go unpunished?” Bors scoffed from the other side of the table.
“You think having your hand cut off and rotting in a cell for the rest of your life is ‘unpunished’?” Memory replied.
Eloryn felt torn. The man had been the cause of great sorrow for her, but she couldn’t find it in her anymore to wish for his death. She had once, and when sharing her sister’s body, she almost took his life herself. She was glad she did not, and it felt odd to have spared his life then only to see him executed now.
“I agree with Memory. I do not need to see this man’s blood on display,” Eloryn said.
Bors stood to respond and Hayes stood as well, giving him a firm look which quieted him. “I understand that executions aren’t a pleasant idea for a heart as gentle as your own, but the people of Avall expect this. Why should the murderer of your mother be treated differently than any other criminal?”
Memory huffed. “But he didn’t kill our mother. That was an accident.”
Eloryn winced. The man who raised her like she was his own daughter was the one who committed the deadly accident.
Memory looked at Eloryn as though she were sorry to have reminded everyone of it and then continued. “Besides, Thayl was being manipulated by someone else, a powerful witch called Providence. She was the one who gave him the power and encouragement to do what he did. It wasn’t all his fault.”
“Princess, we can see you are concerned, but your sympathy for this man is unhealthy. The bailiff informed me of your visits to Thayl’s cell. Undoubtedly, you have become emotionally attached to this murderer, and he is manipulating your sympathies for this very purpose of trying to spare his life.”
“Memory?” Eloryn looked at her sister. Memory’s face turned pink, and she looked away. Eloryn felt ill. “Memory, you’ve been visiting Thayl?”
“So what? I was looking for some answers. That’s no crime,” Memory snapped.
“What is more,” Hayes said, looking down at Memory, “we’ve no knowledge of this woman ‘Providence.’ Indeed, no women have a high enough learning or understanding of magic to do what she is said to have done, except, perhaps, those of Maellan blood. Princess Memory, these are nothing but the tales of a man attempting to shift the blame.
“The public expect, no, need Thayl to be executed. They need to know he is gone for good. Your highness,” Hayes said, pushing a piece of paper towards Eloryn. “I implore you to sign his death warrant. It is the only way that we can secure the safety of the kingdom. He could still be a threat.”
“He’s not a threat. He’s just a poor man in a cell. He can’t do anything.” Memory looked from the paper to Eloryn. “Lory, please, you can’t do this.”
“Mem,” Eloryn said quietly. “You didn’t have to experience it. The things he did. You escaped it all. The murders, the torturing, the decay of the land. The banning of magic put a strain on everyone, you can’t imagine. Something as simple as sending a message to a friend was almost impossible, and there was no magic to heal the sick. Thousands died. You can’t imagine the suffering this man caused.”
“I escaped it all?” Memory’s face scrunched up. “How can you say that after what I’ve been through?”
“It’s for the best.” Eloryn held her breath and signed the death warrant. Her chest pounded. She felt faint. Hayes took the paper from the table.
Memory looked at her sister in disbelief then turned and ran out of the room.
“And that is why you will make a far better queen than your sister,” Hayes said.
Eloryn could tell that he was trying to be nice, but she wasn’t sure she believed him. What have I done? Her legs wobbled beneath her. She fell onto the chair, put her head on the table, and started to cry. Hayes knelt beside her and excused the rest of the Council from the room, leaving him and Eloryn alone.
“My dear, my dear, I know it is difficult. But it takes a true queen to do what you have done today.”
“I can’t do this,” Eloryn implored. “I can’t say who lives and who dies.”
“I understand. Your role is not an easy one. But know we of the Council are here to advise and assist you in any way. It is traditional for a monarch to delegate their duties, for to carry every responsibility alone would be a weight enough to crush any man.”
Eloryn wiped her eyes and looked up at Hayes. “Could you? Would you take this horrible task from me?”
Hayes paused, as if considering, then nodded. “By granting me the power of court legislature you won’t have to sign another piece of paper like this again. Perhaps it would be more appropriate for me to see to the matter of death sentences. Living through what I have, I am more equipped to deal with such dreadful decisions. Such matters should not be the realm of children.”
But they are the realm of a monarch. How can I be that person? Eloryn shook her head. Maybe she couldn’t be that person because sh
e couldn’t put her name on a piece of paper like that again. “Yes. Please have the appropriate documents written up to transfer this role to you. Thank you, Hayes. Thank you for being here for me.”
Memory ran all the way from the Round Room to the dungeon, her dress swishing around her like an aqua tide. Her heart hammered. Her face burned in anger at her sister and the Council. Her anger also turned inward. Maybe she did she have an unhealthy connection to Thayl. But she still thought everything about an execution was wrong, no matter who was being executed or why.
Memory stormed past the bailiff, giving him a filthy look for ratting her out. She wondered if as a princess she had any hiring and firing powers. After passing the first floor of cells, she took the final flight of stairs to Thayl’s solitary confinement.
On her approach, she heard the sound of hushed conversation, but as she stepped in front of the bars she saw only Thayl, sitting alone, chained up as before.
“They’re going to kill you,” she stated. Her face turned redder, embarrassment mixing with her rage for the fragile and desperate tone of her voice.
“Of course,” Thayl responded. “You didn’t know till now?”
Memory shook her head. The cell was cold, but Memory burned inside and out, the flames inside her threatening to burst through her skin, kindled by her emotions. She leaned against the damp stone walls in an attempt to cool herself down. “I tried to stop the execution, but no one will listen to me. Hung, drawn, and quartered. Does that mean what it sounds like?”
Thayl nodded slowly. “It is the traditional punishment for treason. What would the people think if they changed it for the likes of me?”
Memory’s stomach clenched at the thought of the punishment and she bent forward.
“Why does this matter so much to you?” Thayl said. “After all I did to you I thought you would be pleased to see me gone.”
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