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

by Selina Fenech

  The bald man fumbled his sword. Roen took the chance to knock it away with the wood. He realized his error too late. The man had bluffed, letting his weapon go so Roen would over extend. The block of wood was snatched from Roen’s hands and smashed into his face.

  “We’re going to enjoy this,” was all he heard before he lost consciousness.

  Eloryn knew nothing about the girl who stood in front of her, working up the courage to say something. Something important, it seemed.

  “Maeve, really, it’s okay,” Eloryn encouraged.

  The word, Memory’s word, made Maeve smile and seemed to give her the courage to speak. “As you know, the princess has been doing so much for us. I don’t know what we’d do without her and her shelter. So I wanted to ask, your majesty, respectfully, with apologies, whether it is true, the rumor I’ve heard?”

  Eloryn was lost. “Rumor?”

  Maeve looked distraught at being pressed to give details. She lowered her head some more. “That you and Master Hayes are going to shut down the shelter.”

  Eloryn shook her head. She’d heard nothing about it. She hadn’t even known what Memory was doing in the city for these children, let alone anything about closing down the shelter.

  She wanted to give her assurances that she’d want nothing of the kind to happen, but she didn’t know enough, about what Memory had set up, or whether Hayes truly had some objection to it. She looked around to see if Roen was returning yet since he seemed to know at least a little more about it.

  Her eyes found Roen at the entrance of an alley across the square, stumbling backwards. Her heart launched into a gallop when she saw he was fighting off a group of rough-looking men.

  Eloryn tried to run to him. Her guards, seeing what she saw, held her back. Maeve gathered the younger girls to her side and rushed them away protectively.

  Eloryn cried out in frustration at her guards, ordering them to release her.

  “You must return to the castle, majesty. This is not safe,” one said, grabbing her around the wrist.

  She knew they were only trying to protect her, that was their job, but she had to help Roen. He and the men had disappeared, back into the alleyway.

  Erec, at the front of the group, tripped and fell, taking the other guards down with him. Eloryn took the chance to break free. She spoke a behest to weave the guards clothes together, one guard’s to another’s until they were caught tied in a mess. She swore she saw Erec wink at her as she lifted her skirts and dashed after Roen.

  Reaching the alley, there was no sign left of him or his assailants. Words fell from her mouth, the same behest she’d used to track Memory when she went after Thayl. The wet ground glittered, a group of footsteps forming, leading away at walking pace.

  “Deann-ruith,” Eloryn said. Faster. The glowing steps increased their pace and Eloryn followed at a jog. “Deann-ruith!”

  Eloryn ran through the streets, into the long shadows of a cluttered warehouse district. Ankle-deep mud covered the road, sliced into by cart tracks. Half of the buildings appeared disused, closed up and cold. The buildings backed the river and a moldering fishy smell tainted the air.

  The footsteps led Eloryn to the side door of a smaller warehouse. She ended the behest there, to not alert those inside to her presence. Peeking through a crack in a boarded up window, she could see four men circling Roen.

  They had him hanging by the wrists in the center of the room. He’d been stripped of his jacket, which one man held, searching through the pockets, and his shirt had been torn down so it hung about his waist.

  The men laughed and mocked Roen. Eloryn heard every second thing they said.

  “Let’s see if he lasts till the money arrives.”

  “The bounty does say alive or dead.”

  The bald man lifted his arm, and the crack of a whip echoed.

  I have to help him. How can I help him on my own? Eloryn put her palms on her forehead, trying to still her panic and think. Memory would know what to do. I just have to think creatively, like she said. Then I can do anything.

  She assessed the room to see what could be used. Shafts of light from just a few high grimy windows broke the darkness. A desiccated pig corpse hung not far from Roen, and Eloryn guessed this must have once been a butcher’s storehouse. On the sawdust strewn floor, rats moved about without concern for the men. There was plenty throughout the space she could use. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She was queen. That should be enough.

  Eloryn pushed the door open without knocking and strode in with her chin raised. Sawdust stirred under her feet, tossing rancid odors and dust motes into the air. It took a while before they noticed her. Another strike with the whip, before they turned to take in her presence. Eloryn seethed.

  “I am your queen, and I demand you free him,” she announced.

  Eloryn caught Roen’s eye. He frowned hard but gave her a short nod which she returned. Red welts marked his chest and blood ran from one of his legs, dripping onto the floor at a speed that worried Eloryn.

  The men stared at her then looked to a wiry man with an eye-patch for direction, whispering amongst themselves.

  “He weren’t joking about knowing the queen after all,” said the man in the eye-patch.

  One man tried to run, and the largest of them put a firm hand on his shoulder and said, “You think she’s just going to leave us be after this? Think she and her kind won’t hunt us down wherever we run?”

  The men shot anxious glances around their group, gauging their options. Eloryn thought to tell them she’d let them be free if they left now but saw the bloody whip and knew it would be a lie. A place deep in her churning stomach wanted them to fight.

  “Not matter what we do, they’ll hunt us down,” the skittish man said.

  “She’s here alone. I say we finish them both off before anyone else knows what’s happened. Get rid of the bodies.” The large bald man snapped the whip between his hands.

  The man in the eye-patch nodded and drew a sword. “No one left that seen our faces. No one won’t even know where to start looking.”

  The four men circled around her, penning her and closing in.

  Eloryn narrowed her eyes. She breathed a deep breath then spoke her words of magic, behest running into behest, commanding help from her environment.

  Her very first spell meant the men had time to draw closer, but it had to be made first before she dealt with them. Seeing it done, she turned her attention to the cruel bounty hunters.

  The bald man struck the whip at Eloryn. It crumbled in the air, brittle as old bone.

  Chains with hooked ends like the one Roen hung from grew long, catching up the man with the eye-patch and one other, wrapping them tight. Eloryn made no effort to make their bonds gentle.

  The coward with missing teeth who thought to flee at the presence of the queen tried again. He found the hinges on the doors had fused shut. His terror multiplied as the floor beneath him became spongy, sucking him in up to his neck.

  The dried pig carcass swung across the room and slammed Eloryn hard into her chest, winding her and knocking her down. Her words became useless gasps.

  Someone wrenched her up to her feet. The large bald man dusted the remains of the whip from his hands menacingly. Eloryn’s breath returned, but she barely managed a syllable before the man wrapped his hands around her throat and lifted her off her feet, crushing her neck. Eloryn’s eyes watered.

  A wet crunching sound was followed by a shudder that ran up the man’s arms and into his hands around Eloryn’s throat. His grip loosened and Eloryn landed back on her feet.

  The man crashed to the ground.

  Behind him stood Roen, half a brick bloodied in his hand.

  Her first behest had been to free him. She had to free him first. No matter what happened to her, he had to be freed.

  Roen took a step toward her around the fallen giant then crumpled to his knees. Eloryn dropped into the sawdust beside him and started checking his wounds.


  Roen raised an arm slowly, stopping her, then put that arm around her waist and rested his head softly on her shoulder. He pulled her into his chest. She could feel his breath on her neck.

  “El,” he whispered. “You came for me.”

  “Of course,” she whispered back.

  “Of course,” Roen repeated in reply, laughter in his voice. He winced then stilled again.

  “You were amazing,” he said.

  “The fear of losing you proved to be great inspiration.” Eloryn tried to chuckle lightly, but it sounded a little like a sob.

  “It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.” Roen gave her another squeeze. “Back at Elder’s Bridge inn, when I’d been caught and called out, I had been ready to die. I told you and Mem what I really was because I wanted you to hate me like I hated myself. I wanted you to leave me there to my fate. At the time, I thought I deserved it.”

  Eloryn’s head shook in fierce denial.

  “Today, I could only think about how much I needed to live. Even if everyone knows the truth of my past. It seems as though at some point I have stopped hating myself. I don’t know when, or how, but I suspect it has more than a little to do with you and your sister.” Roen’s mouth lifted into a half smile and he pulled back to look to her fully. Eloryn reached for his hands and he continued.

  “There are things I’ve done I’m not proud of, things I must make amends for, but everything I have done has shaped who I am now, and I value that. I’m not just… a thief. I need to live long enough to show you who I really am.”

  Eloryn touched his cheek lightly. “I can already see.”

  Eloryn had seen the skills of Roen’s criminal trade, she’d seen him play the flirt, and she’d seen him behind a formal polite façade. She’d seen his courage, his shame, and his passion. He was not any one of those things, but all of them and more. There was not one part of him that Eloryn didn’t love.

  Her head tilted back. She lifted her mouth to his. A look of confusion, relief, desperation, and desire, all rolled together, flashed across his features. He bent his face to meet hers.

  Their lips didn’t meet.

  The sound of thudding footsteps and guards calling for their queen broke them apart.

  Eloryn quickly got to her feet to meet her escort. “Take these men into custody, for hunting an illegal bounty and attempted regicide.”

  The men she’d caught were all watching her. She flushed, angered and embarrassed they had been present during her moment with Roen.

  Erec tied a quick bandage to apply pressure to the gash in Roen’s thigh until he could be healed magically, then pulled Roen to his feet and gave him his guard’s jacket. Eloryn bit her tongue to try and slow her heart and remind herself there was more occurring of importance than Roen, shirtless, in uniform.

  The other guards extracted the mercenaries from their bonds and dragged them from the building.

  Erec ran his hand through his hair and laughed breathily. “It is a great relief to see how well you can handle yourself, your majesty. Otherwise I might have been in real trouble. I am supposed to be protecting you, not hindering your protectors.”

  Eloryn smiled warmly at him. “Thank you, for your help. I won’t forget it. Rest assured you would have been in no trouble from me or my sister if it came to that.”

  Erec smirked. “It’s not you and yours I’m worried about. It’s my brother that’d kill me if I let you come to harm.”

  Roen got Erec to help him across to the man with the eye-patch and took a piece of paper from the man’s pocket. Eloryn followed and stared at the poster with the etching of Roen’s face

  “The bounty?” Eloryn asked. “Who set it?”

  Roen scrunched the paper in his hands and dropped it to the floor. “People I have wronged. I was recognized not long ago by someone from an estate I once robbed. Only that was supposed to have been dealt with.” Roen paused, putting his thumb against his lips and shaking his head. “Maybe the man who spoke with Hayes wasn’t the only one to have seen me.”

  Eloryn bent and picked up the crumpled poster, squeezing it tight in her hands. She didn’t want anyone else to find it. “I’ll make sure they are appeased, anything to keep you safe.”

  Roen put his hand over hers. “No. It’s time I faced my past.”

  Chapter 22

  Roen spoke well, when faced with the formal gathering of Avall’s nobles, wizards, legal authorities, and his parents. Eloryn had never been more proud of him and nervous for him.

  “Know that I am ashamed of my thieving. For myself, and for my family. But also know this. I would never change my past because without it I would never have had my path cross with that of the Maellan twins. They are a treasure in my life, as they are to all of Avall.”

  The confession was followed by his promises to try to repay those he wronged, then Eloryn took over and offered Roen an absolute and unconditional royal pardon. She spoke heartfelt words of how Roen had given himself to her cause. From the applause of the crowd, it seemed they agreed that everything Roen had done to help the Maellan twins and to defeat Thayl outweighed any crimes from his past. Memory cheered for him in a boisterous and decidedly unladylike manner, which made Eloryn grin wider than she knew was proper for her station.

  When the meeting ended, Eloryn amazed herself that she held in her tears when Roen’s parents both brought him into an embrace. She watched from a distance as the three of them held each other for a long moment.

  Erec leaned in to whisper in her ear from his usual place by her side. “I’ve had a few men scouring the city, and all bills and mentions of the bounty on Roen have been removed.”

  “Thank you,” Eloryn whispered back. She breathed out shakily. She’d been more scared than she wanted to admit. Crime of any kind was treated harshly in Avall. She could still see some of the guests gossiping amongst themselves, enjoying the scandal of it all. But now it was public and officially forgiven Roen should be safe from further reprisals.

  Erec cleared his throat and spoke even softer. “Those from the estate named on the poster are denying having any knowledge of the bounty.”

  “Has there been any further information from the bounty hunters on who they were to meet with, or who tipped them off as to where to find Roen that day?”

  Erec set his jaw and stepped back in line behind Eloryn.

  Hayes appeared, looking stern and sympathetic. “Those cutthroats knew nothing more than what was on the bounty poster and have since been disposed of as they should be.”

  Hayes put an arm around Eloryn, directing her to a quiet corner of the room. “Your majesty, I know you had your qualms before, but when even a close friend of the queen can be attacked in broad daylight, surely now you have reason enough to grant me, as Legate of Civil Defence, the use of military force. The streets are filled with criminals such as those men. If you had given me control earlier, this entire, almost fatal mess could have been avoided.”

  Eloryn looked across the room to where Isabeth fussed over Roen. By the time they’d gotten him into a carriage and Eloryn had begun healing him, he’d lost a dangerous amount of blood. Now he had not a mark on him to reveal what he’d suffered, but Eloryn could almost still feel the wounds herself. Her hesitation had killed Waylan, and again her hesitation almost killed Roen.

  Hayes paused to lick his lips. “Illegal bounties have become more commonplace with the increase in poverty. There simply isn’t enough authority to deal with it all, and so a lot of the victims of crime will turn to illegal bounties and rough mercenaries for help. If we were granted a larger police force, or militia, we would be able to clean up the streets of those who would hang and whip a man for money.”

  Eloryn held her hand up to silence Hayes. “Yes. I’ve heard enough. Yes. Please do what you must to make our land safe.”

  Hayes bowed and then gave her a modest hug. “You are a wise ruler, my child. Sometimes the best thing someone in power can do is hand that duty over to someone who will be more capable in t
he role.”

  The kitchens of the shelter were smaller than those at the palace, but just as busy. The food being prepared was also much simpler fare, but Memory was amused to see that her hamburgers were becoming popular on the shelter menu. She knew she had Clara to thank for that. Workers in white aprons loaded trays for delivering lunch into the mess hall as Memory finished discussing the meal planning with the head chef.

  Clara leaned on a bench next to Memory and scrutinized her. “I don’t like this at all.”

  Memory wiped her forehead, the heat of the kitchen making her sweat. She was tired and feeling dazed at everything she’d taken on. She second guessed her every decision. “Do you think I’m budgeting for food wrong?”

  “No. I don’t like this, seeing all this food pass under your nose and you not taking a bite. Who are you and what have you done with my Hope?”

  “I’m Memory, for starters. And I’m just not hungry.”

  “No, that doesn’t sound like you at all. You’ve barely been eating anything lately. You’re acting so differently, I may have to do some tests to make sure you’ve not been replaced with a changeling,” Clara joked and picked up a small bowl of pudding.

  Memory took a small bite out of some bread and choked it down. She didn’t really feel like eating. Food had become tasteless for her. “Satisfied?”

  “Only if you finish all of it, and then another, and maybe one more, then I’ll be convinced you’re really you. And you can let me know what’s happening with you and that fine gentleman of yours while you’re at it,” Clara grinned and popped a spoonful of pudding in her mouth.

  Memory’s heart seemed to clamp shut. “I haven’t seen Will for ages. And also, really? Will? A gentleman?”

  Clara raised an eyebrow. “I meant Dylan.”

  “Oh.” Memory felt her face grow hot. Why did I think Clara was talking about Will? He had been on her mind a lot since she managed to open a door back to their home world. But it should have been obvious she meant Dylan.