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

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Memory's Wake Omnibus: The Complete Illustrated YA Fantasy Series Page 49

by Selina Fenech


  “I’m just studying with him. That’s all.”

  Memory still wasn’t sure how she felt about Dylan, but there had been more visits, and more kissing. He was the one person she could be around and feel completely wanted, but she didn’t feel like their relationship was developing, despite Dylan’s enthusiasm. Memory wondered if her inability to be enthusiastic back was due to her broken soul. She certainly blamed that for her allowing things to continue despite her lack of feelings. She was already broken, already a monster, and Dylan was the only person who seemed to want her anyway, so she’d take it.

  A commotion broke their conversation, and Memory could hear Maeve yelling a stream of Avall curse words. She ran to the front door to see what was happening, Clara on her heels.

  A squad of armed men had entered the shelter, facing off with Maeve and Peirs. The men wore guard uniforms marked with the symbol of the Wizard’s Council that Memory had seen before.

  On spotting Memory, the men stepped back and stood at attention.

  “What’s happening?” Memory asked, coming to stand beside Maeve.

  Maeve swiped a punch through the air, directed at the men. “They are here to close us down, but I won’t let them.”

  “Under whose authority? You know who I am, right?” Memory asked the men.

  The men nodded. “Councilor Hayes has classified this building as a house of ill-repute, and a beacon for undesirables. He requires it be emptied and closed immediately for the betterment of the city.”

  “That’s ridiculous. This is a solution to the problem, not the cause,” Memory said.

  The guard just shrugged. “Orders are orders.”

  I’m arguing with the wrong person. Memory stepped between her friends and the militia men. “You’ll have to go back and say I wouldn’t let you carry out your orders then, because unless your orders allow dragging me out of here kicking and screaming then you’re getting nothing done here today.”

  The guards looked at each other as though assessing their options, then bowed and left hurriedly.

  Memory rubbed her forehead with both of her palms. Everything she tried to do, everyone she grew close to, everything she wanted. She would lose all of it. The inevitability turned her blood to cold sludge.

  When she turned around she saw that both Peirs and Maeve had their hands on hilts of daggers. Clara just looked stunned.

  “They will be back,” Peirs said grimly. “Hayes has been taking action all over the city to remove vagrants, but that’s not all. I’ve also heard rumors that he’s using his militia to gain control of the trade guilds through force.”

  “Why hasn’t Eloryn done anything about all this?” Memory questioned.

  “I doubt she even knows,” Maeve said, her hands on her slim hips.

  Clara spoke, her tone scandalous and low. “I see his control even at the palace. Since your uncle was arrested there has been a steady stream of prisoners coming into the castle. Anyone who questions the queen or the Council is arrested, and a lot of them don’t come out again.” Clara made a delicate swipe across her neck with one finger.

  “You mean anyone who questions Hayes.” Memory looked at the three of them before her. “Damn it. Guys, you can talk like this to me, but watch yourselves, okay?”

  They nodded seriously. Memory looked around the shelter. From every doorway leading into to the entrance foyer, from between the bars of the stairway banister, little eyes watched. Memory couldn’t let anything happen to them, but she couldn’t be here all the time.

  Memory was suddenly glad she’d let Clara dress her up with more accessories that day. Memory unclasped her necklace and started slipping rings off her fingers. She placed them down on a side table, along with her purse and the gold it contained. She stripped brooches and jeweled buttons off her dress and the ornate buckles off her shoes. She took off a heavy gold bangle, leaving just Edele’s wooden bracelet on her wrist. Her hair had been pinned up using golden filigree combs which she removed, letting her hair fall free, still short above her neck at the back. Maeve put a hand to her mouth as though the sight of the cropped hair shocked her.

  Memory pointed to the pile of valuables. “Maeve, Peirs, get all the kids together and find somewhere to lay low while Hayes is on his rampage. Use this stuff to get you through until I work something out. I’ll try talking to him or Eloryn. They can’t shut us down.”

  Memory said it but didn’t believe it. If I believed it I’d be letting them stay.

  Memory stared at the wealth on the table for a moment, then picked out the three most beautiful pieces and presented them to each of her friends. “I want you each to have something as well, to say thank you for being there for me, and to keep you safe.”

  Her companions were speechless as Memory made her goodbyes and beckoned Clara to begin their ride back to the palace.

  Memory fidgeted with the bracelet from Edele. A symbol of one of the many lives taken from her. It was as though her broken self was a repellant to life, and anyone to come close would soon be lost, die, or be so repulsed they’d simply leave. She knew it wouldn’t be long before another person she cared for would be gone from her world.

  On their way out to the carriage, Memory said, “Clara, could you do me a favor?”

  “Anything, Hope.”

  “Could you get me some hair dye?”

  Memory took one step at a time, walking in slow motion. She ran her fingers along the rough wall as she circled up the tower stairs on her way to the ivy room. Her face ran with tears that she couldn’t seem to stop. Her mouth trembled, but she made no sound.

  Hope walked backward a couple of stairs ahead and stared at her. “Why with the waterworks?”

  “I don’t know.” Memory hesitated through tears. The words collapsed on themselves, imploding, as if she didn’t have the breath to utter them. “I’m… happy, for Roen and El, that they have finally started to sort their lives out, and I’m happy that Will can go back to where he belongs.”

  “Yeah, you look sooo happy.”

  Memory shook her head, and a tear flicked off her cheek. She’d put this off since she’d proven she could open a door to the other world, but she knew, no matter what, Will deserved to have the choice. She imagined that Will would probably just want to go back on his own, but she began to toy with the idea that they could go back together. Neither solution seemed right, but nothing seemed right to Memory anymore. Memory grew increasingly anxious about everything around her, her shelter, Hayes, her magic and lost soul, even Hope, and depression ached in her bones.

  “Are you going to start believing me yet? That you’re never going to just fit in, the way you are? That the only way to command respect is as queen?”

  It made sense. She wasn’t even a complete person. How could she hope to fit into a world full of people who were beginning to make sense of their lives?

  “You shouldn’t be crying,” Hope continued. “You just need to fix things, that’s all, become queen, and everything will be better.”

  Memory climbed out through the window and onto the roof, letting the light breeze dust away her concerns, trying to think clearly. “Being queen hasn’t seemed very easy for Lory.”

  Hope kept in front of her, in her face. “If you were queen you could control everything. Eloryn just lets everything, and everyone control her instead. She’s not right for the role. You are.”

  Memory shrugged. “That’s too bad then, isn’t it, because she’s queen and I’m not, and I can’t see any way that could change.”

  “There is a way, if you’re strong enough. I can help you become queen, where you’ll be loved and wanted and never treated badly, but when you are, you have to do something for me, okay?” Hope stopped and blocked the way, forcing Memory to pause and look at her. “It’s simple. You would become queen if Eloryn wasn’t around anymore.”

  Memory pushed passed her into the Ivy Room. Her head spun with dark words and pain and confusion. She barely noted the time on the clock tower or th
e bareness of the space around her.

  “He’s not here,” she mumbled.

  “When is he ever?” Hope said.

  Memory nodded. She had expected this. She pulled an envelope from her purse and propped it on one of the stone benches. It had taken her three hours to get the wording of the letter right. Eventually she left it simple.

  I can send you home.

  Hope followed Memory for a little of the way back to her chambers, but Memory was completely unresponsive, so Hope vanished. Memory was at a loss for what to think or do.

  Sleep would be good. Sometimes she imagined that she could sleep forever. It seemed easier that way. She approached her chambers and could hear the crashing of a brawl inside. She swung the door open.

  Dylan and Will were locked in a brutal fight. Will was on all fours with Dylan pinned underneath him on the floor, slugging him in the face.

  Both were spattered with blood. Bruises already swelled on their skin.

  “Stop.” The word was barely a breath. Neither man heard her. Dylan tried to shield himself with an arm, and Will shook him against the ground.

  Memory put both hands to her head and screamed, “Stop it!”

  The room rumbled and Dylan and Will were thrown apart by the invisible force of her magic.

  Dylan slid along the silk rug. Will hit the side of the fireplace. He immediately got back up and rushed Dylan.

  Memory stepped in between them.

  Will’s fist froze a hairs-breadth from her face.

  He bared his teeth and looked for a moment like he might vomit. With a roar he ran off, practically throwing himself from the balcony and disappearing.

  “Will!” Memory stepped toward the windows and felt Dylan’s hand close around hers, pulling her back. It was slick with blood and Memory shuddered. She looked down at him where he lay on the floor.

  “Stay. I need your help,” he said, his lips red and swollen.

  Memory nodded slowly.

  She knelt beside Dylan. The damage to him was brutal.

  “That savage should be caged,” he said, wiping his mouth.

  Maybe he’s right. Maybe the Council was right all along.

  “How hurt are you, can you stand?”

  He nodded and Memory put an arm around him, helping him into her bedroom and laying him down on the bed. She grabbed a hand towel and dampened it, and came back to wipe away some of the blood.

  “It’s insane, allowing a brute like that to run wild,” Dylan said.

  Will. Memory remembered the boy who sang so beautifully. She’d done this to him, turned him into what he was now. So much anger, so violent. He’d never seemed that way to her before, but maybe she’d just refused to see it. Dylan groaned and Memory wondered if she should try healing him with magic but was worried about hurting him even more. All she did was hurt people.

  “It’s lucky you showed up.” Dylan grinned wryly in a way that reminded her of Roen.

  “Dylan,” Memory said. She sat back, holding the stained towel in her lap, frowning as her mind worked through events. “Why didn’t you defend yourself with magic? Like with Roen?”

  Dylan ran a finger down Memory’s cheek. “I’m worried about you. Promise you’ll keep your window locked from now on.”

  Memory twitched away from his touch. “Is my brain skipping? Did I not say that out loud? Why didn’t you defend yourself? Will can’t use magic, just like Roen can’t.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m all right, see?” Dylan sat up so he was closer to Memory. His voice was low, gravely, and he pushed his lips against hers. Memory tasted blood and her stomach churned.

  Stop, stop, stop. “Stop.” Her voice was lost under his mouth. He placed his hands over her shoulders, pulling her in closer.

  A frantic shuddering built in her limbs, and Dylan flew off her and was pinned against the headboard of the bed. He cried out in pain. Memory fought to calm herself, letting him go.

  Dylan slumped and looked at her fiercely.

  “What are you doing?” he shouted. “You bring me into your bed after your creature beats me and then you carry on assaulting me? Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been with you?”

  “What do you mean?” Memory moved off the bed, stepping away from him. He stood up and followed her.

  “I deserve better than this. Hayes should have given me the good twin, not you.” Dylan spat blood on her floor. “You think I came into your life by accident? When you refused to even look at the suitors the Council offered you? I was chosen for you to keep you busy and out of trouble. And the lengths I’ve had to go to.”

  Memory’s lips curled, her whole body jolting with disgust. The one reason she liked Dylan was that he desired her, to have someone around that really wanted her, and it was all a lie. The truth was nobody wanted her. How could they?

  Dylan made his voice gentle again and reached to touch her. “You should be grateful and just take what you’ve been given.”

  Memory felt the ground shaking under her feet. The whole world felt unstable and ready to topple. She had to get out of there.

  Memory smacked his hand away from her and ran to the door. She bumped into Clara who was staring at the messed up room and sprays of violent crimson.

  Clara gasped at Memory. “Hope, are you—”

  “Call the guards,” Memory said to her, not stopping. She pointed back to her bedchambers where Dylan followed. “Just get rid of him.”

  “Highness,” Clara said in confirmation.

  “Guards? Whose side do you think the guards are on?” Dylan called after her as she ran. She could hear his mocking laughter chase her all the way up the stairs.

  Chapter 23

  Please be there, please be there.

  Memory ran all the way to the Ivy Room. She didn’t know what she was going to say to Will, but she needed to see him.

  Memory burst through the screen of ivy, and the sight of Will in front of her almost stopped her heart. He stood still and tall. His reddened hands shook and his cheeks were marked with the tracks of tears, but he didn’t move, didn’t cry.

  He looked her in the eyes, both staring at each other for a long moment, before he flinched and looked away.

  “Did I hurt you?” he mumbled.

  Memory mouthed the word “no,” but no sound emerged.

  Will started pacing, like a caged lion. His voice grew louder. “He just… you didn’t hear the things he said. That he could tell you didn’t like to be touched. That he’d force you anyway.”

  Memory just stood there watching, like she had no energy left to move or talk. Dylan provoked the fight, and let Will beat him, let Will be the animal. But why? Just to get Will out of her life? It was going to happen anyway. She looked over at her letter to Will and saw the envelope torn open. Bloody fingerprints marred the cream-colored paper.

  Will saw her look and scowled. “You don’t believe me.”

  “I do. I know Dylan was a fake, just like you said.”

  “But you still want me gone.”

  I just want you to be happy and safe.

  Memory reached out for him. Will growled viciously at her.

  Memory let out a soft cry, not from fear, but from the pain of Will turning on her. Her Will.

  Breath tore through Memory like daggers, and she gritted her teeth and opened the Veil to the other world. She held the door open.

  Will looked at her with those blue eyes, and a single tear ran down his cheek.

  “Just go,” she said.

  Memory turned away to hide her own tears that ran, closing her eyes, unable to look.

  No. She curled her hands into fists. Look at him. It will be your last time. She turned around and opened her eyes. “I… I’ll miss you.”

  He was already gone.

  “Will? WILL?” Memory screamed.

  A rumbling built inside her. She clutched at her chest to hold it in, sobbing. The leaves of the ivy trembled, gusting like a strong wind took hold of them. Memory tried to grasp
any scrap of calm within her, but it all flew away, anguish tearing her raw. It spilled out, burst from her. The vines around her were shredded, charred, every last leaf and tendril disintegrated. The ivy that hid and protected the room, that gave it its name, was gone. Memory’s knees cracked as they hit the ground.

  Will. My safe place. Everything is gone.

  Memory wasn’t sure when it had gotten so late. The moonlit courtyard was empty and through the windows of the palace she only saw the odd servant passing in the halls.

  Her gown was marked with blood and ashes, and she just walked, wherever her aching feet would take her.

  “Of course Will left you. What did you think he’d do given the choice?” Hope said.

  Memory walked so slowly that Hope circled around her, doing laps.

  “I’m sorry about Dylan though. Who could have known that would end badly?” Hope kicked at the pebbled path. They came to a large marble fountain, and Memory focused on the sound of the running water, trying to drown everything else out.

  “But it was just like I said, wasn’t it? No one can like you how you are. But if you were queen, things would be different. You could save your shelter. You could just get rid of Hayes. You could do anything you wanted.”

  Could I? “What about my sister?”

  “Don’t go getting sentimental. She’s not your friend. Her and Hayes are working together, on everything they’ve done. Eloryn knew about Dylan, and about your shelter. Eloryn’s seen inside you. They are cruel to you because they know you’re barely human. I told you this would happen. They’re not you real friends – I’m your only friend. The only one you can trust.”

  “I can’t… do anything to Lory.”

  Hope grabbed Memory by the arms. “You can. You don’t remember yourself, what you have in you, what you’re capable of.”

  “Stop it, I don’t want this.” Memory tried to pry Hope’s hands off her, but her grip was tight and Memory had lost all strength.

  “We have to get rid of her,” Hope hissed.

 

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