Memory's Wake Omnibus: The Complete Illustrated YA Fantasy Series

by Selina Fenech

  “Waylan. He was in the room.” Eloryn looked back up the hall. Memory was hunched down against the wall with her head in her hands. Roen sat next to her. The ground shook slightly, and Eloryn worried the building had become unstable, but it passed quickly.

  Hayes ran a hand over his mouth, face taut with grief. “There will be justice for this.”

  Eloryn noted that Peirs and more soldiers had arrived. Peirs jogged up beside her and bowed. “Your Majesty, I vow I will discover the cause of this.”

  Hayes sneered. “We already know who caused this. That you don’t is an added sign of your incompetence at this position, along with even letting this occur to begin with, right in the heart of Caermaellan castle.”

  Peirs stepped toward Hayes, squaring up his shoulders. “I’m confident the guard has done everything warranted to protect the Queen. We could not have foreseen this.”

  “I’ve told you numerous times of the threats being made. I instructed you to increase patrols.”

  “It is not in your power, respectfully, to order an increase in patrols.”

  “Please stop,” Eloryn said. “This is not the time for bickering. This is a time for mourning, for the loss of a good man, and that one I call family felt driven to such extreme action.”

  Peirs lowered his head deferentially. “I cannot believe that Sir Ewain is the cause of this, but I will investigate every lead to discover the truth here.”

  “We already have proof,” Hayes said, thrusting the writ at Peirs. “Had you acted sooner on my information this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Or if I had. Have I handled this so poorly?” Eloryn asked Hayes. She should have dealt with the threat from her uncle. Instead she delayed the process because she didn’t want to make a difficult decision. It felt like the only decisions she had been making were to delay making decisions. In times like this, they needed someone who could make a decision at the right time. Waylan had died on account of her inertia. She blushed from grief.

  Hayes put his hand on her shoulder. “Any hesitation on your part was only brought by your tender, if misguided, feelings for your family, your Majesty. But now is the time for action, swift justice for this crime.”

  “I need to see the damage.” Eloryn turned away from Hayes and made her way slowly into the Round Room.

  Peirs stepped in ahead of her, taking one of the torn tapestries from the ground. He laid it over Waylan’s body before she could see and gave her a solemn nod, which she returned as a thank you.

  The room itself was in passable condition. Ancient walls of stone built to withstand sieges had been charred and scratched, but not broken. The furnishings, however, had been torn asunder. The leadlight above had shattered and fallen, creating a multicolored carpet of razor-edged jewels. The wide round table where important decisions had been made for centuries had been reduced to kindling by a single act. Even Thayl hadn’t dared touch these treasures of Avall history. Perhaps they could be repaired over time. Even if I have to spend every day speaking behests to splinters, I will repair this.

  “Gunpowder,” Peirs said, sifting through the debris.

  “Obviously. Set up by a paid off servant and triggered by a simple behest.” Hayes studied the scene further, turning over broken furniture. He looked over to Waylan with deep regret. “Though it is tragic indeed, it is fortunate that Waylan was the only one in the room. The assassin must have panicked at your approach and set off the blast too early. Imagine had this occurred mid-meeting. This is what I warned of earlier. This is why we need greater power to investigate, imprison and sentence anyone who threatens us and the stability of Avall. The current system is too slow. If the roles of Grand Bailiff and Legate of Civil Defense were held by a single dignitary, the process would be greatly expedited.”

  Eloryn felt like crying but held it back. Her hair had come loose from its pins. She pushed the blonde strands from her face and turned to Hayes.

  “You’re right. I need someone in those positions who can prevent tragedies like this from occurring. Someone I trust. Councilor Hayes, will you take the ranks of Grand Bailiff and Legate of Civil Defense?”

  Hayes bowed briefly. “I would be honored to take these roles, your majesty, if you see fit to bestow them upon me.”

  “I should have done so sooner.” Eloryn felt defeated, as if she had failed by handing more of her responsibilities to Hayes, but she knew someone had to take action. Actions she was loath to take.

  “Your majesty, you have made a wise decision,” Hayes bowed low. He straightened back up, then turned and pointed at Peirs. “And as my first act, you are to be stripped of your rank as Captain of the Royal Guard on the grounds of your complete incompetence and negligence of duty.”

  Peirs’s jaw worked, but he made no reply. He bowed low to Eloryn and paused, looking at her for a moment with a worried frown, before being escorted from the castle. Eloryn turned away, unable to watch him go, or look anyone in the eye.

  Chapter 13

  Memory sat on her pillows with her head against the quilted backboard of the bed. She ran her hands through her hair over and over, trying to soothe herself to sleep. Too many thoughts rushed through her head. So much death. Her balcony doors were open, and she stared out into the night but no-one came.

  I’m never going to get to sleep if I keep staring at the forest, waiting. Memory pushed herself off the bed and went to close the doors.

  She looked out across the tree tops. The rain had stopped, but the trees still sparkled in the moonlight. Flashes of darting sprites matched the shining leaves. She thought she could hear singing, somewhere distant, mingling with the sounds of night. A bittersweet song with a strange melody, somehow familiar.

  “It’s embarrassing,” Will said. He wore old army pants and a dirty t-shirt that said “Not It” and they sat together in a vacant lot, down the street from the children’s home.

  “I know it is, that’s why I want to see you do it.” Memory cackled. “Look if I’m going to protect you from the other boys, I at least want to know why they love to beat on you so hard.”

  “Fine, just, close your eyes, okay?”

  Memory groaned dramatically and made a point of rolling her eyes as she closed them.

  Will began to sing. Something classical, in another language. Something Memory had never heard before. It was strange how her heart reacted to the sound, aching sweetly and beating just slightly faster. His voice was so beautiful. He was still a boy, but his voice was deeper than she’d expected.

  Memory’s eyes opened to watch him sing. He quickly stopped.

  He frowned and stabbed an empty drink can with a stick. “My parents made me take lessons.”

  A gust of wind rattled the balcony doors and swirled Memory’s ivory nightgown and hair about her. She grabbed the doors and pulled them closed. When she turned around, Hope had taken her spot on her pillow.

  A small smile appeared involuntarily on Memory’s lips. “Hey.”

  “Hey. Need someone to talk to?” Hope patted the pillow next to her.

  “Really do.” Memory sat at the foot of the bed, face to face with her other self.

  “I know about the explosion.”

  Memory looked away for a moment, getting her emotions under control. “Waylan died. He was nice to me, and I thought he could help me with my magic, and now he’s just gone.”

  “Who cares about him? What about you? You could have died, too.”

  Memory shrugged. “I guess the prospect of not existing isn’t so scary for me since I only feel like I’ve existed at all for a couple of months. What I can’t handle is how everyone I grow close to is taken away from me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’m the only one you can trust to stay by you.”

  Hope’s intensity made Memory feel strange, knowing that was her, how she used to be. Is that the friend Will knew? That he’d waited so long for?

  Memory tilted her head and glanced back at the balcony doors.

  “Thinking abou
t Will?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t make it to the Ivy Room today, with everything. I’m worried about him. Usually his ‘Mem is in danger’ sense tingles, and he’s here like a flash, but he didn’t come. Again.”

  Hope rolled her eyes. “Will is probably too busy with Mina. You can’t rely on him. He’s not that little boy anymore, following you like a puppy. I think you should spend more time with Roen. He doesn’t hang around with slutty sprites. He’s there for you and, well, he makes you happy, right?”

  “Yeah, but Roen likes Lory. Fact.”

  “Maybe, but he could like you more. I mean, you’re basically the same thing as Eloryn on the outside, and as for the inside, you guys get along great. Eloryn doesn’t want him anyway, right?”

  “I don’t know.” Memory leaned against one of the bed’s posts and played with the tassel that tied the canopy back. “Do you think that you being around is what’s bringing back my memories? Is that how it works? Do we share them or something?”

  Hope stared at Memory for a moment. “Would you want them back if you could have them?”

  “For sure. I would have got them back before, but Eloryn had to reject them to save me from Thayl.”

  “Did she? Did she have to? Think about it. What if Eloryn did that because she wanted to keep you confused and unsure about yourself, keep you unable to know or control yourself? I mean, that is what she did, after all.”

  Memory frowned skeptically.

  “Don’t look at me like that. When Eloryn connected with you, when your spirits joined she must have seen that your soul had bits missing. She knows. She can never really treat you as family. Why do you think everything’s played out like it has? Her becoming queen instead of you?”

  Memory focused on the tassel again, unwinding the weave of the threads. “No. That just… made more sense.”

  Hope crawled down the bed and took the tassel from Memory, making her pay attention. “Did it? The only sense it made was keeping you from power, from the title that should be yours. Hayes and the others treat you like garbage. You were meant to be queen, you should be queen. Just imagine how people would treat you if you were.”

  “I don’t want to be queen. I just want my friends…” Friends she already barely saw. I see Eloryn so rarely maybe she is avoiding me on purpose. Could this really be why?

  Hope threw the dismantled remains of the tassel onto the floor. “You think you’re making friends here. You think you’re starting a new life. But eventually they’ll all turn on you or leave you. Every last one. Trust me. I’m the only one here for you. You think they like you? How could they? They don’t know you. You don’t know you. You’re not even a whole person.”

  The morning after the assassination attempt, Memory found herself on complete lockdown. No school and no way out of the castle, not even with Clara’s help. Hayes had ordered a new guard detail to keep an eye on Memory. These guys treated the job like they were imprisoning Memory, rather than stopping others from getting to her. Memory glared at them from the window seat in the palace library.

  Memory had been moaning to Clara about missing lessons when Clara pointed out the palace had its own library that she could keep studying in. Memory decided to check it out and quickly ended up walled into the window seat by piles of books on history, law, and economics. She’d hoped to continue reading up on magic as well, but apparently all of those books were kept by the Wizard’s Council.

  Memory wriggled her legs around trying to find some comfort amongst her layered skirts. She ended up taking her slippers off, hitching the skirts up and sitting cross legged on the velvet-covered cushions. Some of the guards looked at her funny, and she hitched her skirts up higher in response - daring to show her thighs - until they turned away in shock.

  Memory smiled, satisfied and picked up a fistful of small pastries from the tray beside her, popping them into her mouth as she read.

  “Look at you. One week of school and you’re already burying yourself in texts and tomes.” Roen walked up to her, carrying the Avall history book that Eloryn had given Memory for her birthday.

  “I sent Clara to get that for me. What have you done with her, you scoundrel?” Memory said with dramatically widened eyes. She wiped the pastry crumbs off her hands onto her skirt so she could take the book off him. The flakes showed starkly against the black velvet.

  Roen held his hands up innocently. “I ran into her up at your chambers and gave her the rest of the day off. You’ve got the poor girl working triple shifts.”

  “Oh, she loves it. Besides, it keeps her out of trouble with the guards.”

  “She’s in trouble with the guards?”

  Memory wriggled her eyebrows.

  Roen laughed. “I see. But you do have servants you could call on other than her, you know.”

  Memory looked up with a sinister smile. “Nope. I finally got rid of all of them.”

  “Mem, what did you do? Also, remind me not to get on your bad side.”

  Memory shrugged innocently. “They kept buzzing around, like it was my job to find work for them—”

  “It is,” Roen interrupted.

  “So I did. I’ve sent them down into the city. I figured I could find better use for them than tightening my corsets and brushing my dresses, because seriously, why do dresses need brushing? They are helping out with the homeless kids I’ve been taking alms to, while I’m on lockdown and can’t do it myself. It’s pretty exciting actually. Maeve has found a building to set up base in.”

  “And Maeve is?”

  “One of the older orphans. She’s helping me get things organized since she knows a lot of the kids on the street. She’s awesome. You’ve got to meet her. I just wish I could get away from this goon squad and go check the place out. But I’m just going to have to buy it unseen. Apparently I can do stuff like that because I’m some rich princess.”

  Roen laughed and sat down on the window seat next to Memory, his shoulder up against hers and head back on the glass. “Look at you.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  Memory took another fistful of the delicate bite-sized pastries. Pushing them into her mouth, she pointed at a book across the seat from them with her bare foot.

  “Can you chuck that one over here for me?” Memory said through a spray of pastry flakes.

  Roen laughed as he passed the book to her. “When you’re allowed back to school, perhaps you should reconsider skipping your etiquette classes. You could stand to learn to be a little more ladylike.”

  “Ladylike your face.”

  Roen grinned and reached for some of her pastries. Memory play-swatted his hand then let him have some.

  He popped them into his mouth one at a time, and Memory couldn’t help but stare at his lips. Between bites he said, “Honestly, though, I prefer your current schooling arrangement. It means we get to spend more time together. I feel like I’m getting to know you all over again, and it’s amazing seeing you get to know yourself.”

  Memory shrugged bashfully. She could feel the warmth of Roen’s arm up against hers. He smelled like soap and cookie spices. Next to him, she felt comfortable, content, and at home, but she hadn’t thought she really wanted Roen in a more than friends way. He was funny, handsome, brave… Why shouldn’t she want that? Maybe she was just stopping herself because of some notion of Eloryn’s feelings, but all Eloryn did these days was avoid Roen. Maybe Hope was right.

  “It’s been nice getting to know you more, too,” Memory said softly, unable to make eye contact.

  “Roen, Memory, good morning to you.” Eloryn’s voice made them both jump. Memory shifted away from Roen, so they were no longer sitting against each other, then wondered why she felt so guilty. We weren’t doing anything wrong.

  “Lory, what’s up?” she asked, as innocently as possible.

  Eloryn stood in front of them, clutching her hands together and clearly trying hard to seem cheerful. She also wore all black in mourning, and the stark shade
played up the pale quality of her skin and hair. Behind her were twice as many guards as she normally had following her around.

  “I had some spare time and thought we could all lunch together.”

  Roen stood up, brushing crumbs off his pants. “I’m afraid I have to pass.”

  Memory pouted and Roen gave her a smile. “Some of us are considered expendable enough to still be expected in classes.”

  Roen’s smile dropped when he turned to Eloryn. He seemed about to say something, but then left awkwardly without saying anything else.

  Eloryn flinched a little then turned to Memory with a smile. “Just you and I then? I’ve barely seen you since the incident. And I wanted to say I’m sorry about Waylan. I know that you’d grown close to him and enjoyed his classes.”

  Memory nodded, looking over her shoulder. The window looked out onto a rose garden, one she found familiar from a dream she once shared with Thayl. The roses bloomed in a rainbow of shades throughout the courtyard. The world outside seemed too bright for this topic.

  “You know, I finally managed to cast that damn light behest thanks to Waylan. I thought he could teach me so much. But now he’s not here anymore.”

  “It was a great loss. He’ll be missed by a lot of people. I really hope that you can get back to magic classes soon.”

  There was something in Eloryn’s tone that didn’t sit right with Memory. It sounded more like a warning than an encouragement. “What do you mean?”

  “Just that I know there’s a lot we still need to understand about your magic and what Thayl did to you.” Eloryn’s sympathy sounded strained. She was overdoing it.

  Memory felt her lips curl, defensiveness building. “What do you know about what Thayl did to me?”

  “No more than our existing theories. The Council has tried to decipher the rune scars on Thayl’s hand, but it’s an ancient language, the very basis of the magical language we use today.”

  “I’m sorry, what? They kept his hand? You didn’t think that would be important for me to know? How could you keep something like that from me?”