The Left Hand of Memory (Redlisted)

by Sara Beaman

  I take a few steps towards the entrance to the labyrinth. Behind me, someone places their hands on my shoulders. I whirl around to see who it is. In the blink of an eye the pit is replaced by a nighttime panorama of an outdoor square sparkling with tiny lightbulbs on strings. And the person who touched me is Mirabel.

  Mirabel. Standing right there in front of me, wearing a strapless black dress and emerald stud earrings. Impossible to mistake her for Kate, even with their identical faces. I stagger backwards, reaching across my waist for a holster and a pistol that aren’t there. She laughs.

  “What are you—what am I doing here?”

  “Calm down,” she says.

  “Calm down!” I laugh inappropriately.

  “There’s no reason for alarm.”

  “What happened to Richard?” I ask. “What happened to the others?”

  “Richard? Is that his real name?” She smirks. “He’s lucky I didn’t kill him. If it hadn’t been for that Daughter of Nemesis he had with him…”

  “So they teleported away? And left me here?”

  “I wouldn’t put it quite so uncharitably,” she says, looking at her fingernails. “They put up the best effort they could. They tried to fight me. Though, for all they managed to accomplish, they might as well have given up at the outset.”

  I feel ill.

  “What do you want?” I ask—although, thinking back to her memory in the theater, seeing my face in the crowd, I think I already know the answer.

  “I’d just like to talk,” she says. “To get a better sense of who you are. What motivates you.”

  I have a hard time believing what I’m hearing. “What motivates me…?”

  “Why you’ve been looking for my Haunt,” she continues.

  My stomach turns inside out. Jesus. She knows about that? How does she know? I’d just barely begun my search.

  “Who finished healing my face?” I ask, deliberately changing the topic.

  “I did,” she says.

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  “It’s a skill I’ve acquired,” she says with a little shrug.

  My jaw goes slack.

  “Why were you looking for my Haunt?” she asks me again.

  I take a breath, trying to come up with something to say.

  “It’s complicated,” I tell her.

  “I’m certain I have the time to listen and the acuity to understand,” she says, smiling. “Come. Why don’t we sit down? You look awfully tense.”

  I follow her reluctantly to a little cafe table with two cast-iron chairs sitting beside some kind of man-made waterway. She sits down first, crossing her legs at the ankle. I pull out my chair and look around. Surrounding us are neoclassical-style buildings made of white plaster. Above us the sky is dark and scattered with stars. I know we’re still in Mnemosyne’s Romanian enclave, but this illusion—whatever it’s supposed to be imitating—is completely convincing.

  Looking at the bridge over the waterway, a snippet of memory flashes into my consciousness. This is the White City. The Chicago World’s Fair. I know it from Julian’s memory.

  “Why don’t you sit down?” Mirabel asks.

  I take a seat and force myself to look at her, choking down my fear. I realize I haven’t heard even one of her thoughts yet. Has she trained herself to be a telepath? Or just to resist telepathy? I hope to God it’s the latter.

  “Go ahead,” she says. “Tell me your complicated story.”

  I smile—a nervous tic, but at least I manage not to laugh. I can tell her the truth, or I can tell her any number of lies. I wish I had any idea what she’d like to hear right now.

  “Well, just recently, you disappeared,” I say.

  “Yes,” she says.

  “So I was trying to find you.”

  “Certainly there’s more to it than that.”

  I don’t say anything.

  “Why were you trying to find me?”

  “Why do you think?” I ask, stalling for time.

  “I think Grandmother told you to do it.”

  I keep my face neutral.

  “After all, you were traveling with Richard,” she says, pausing slightly before saying his name. “Grandmother told him to get close to me, didn’t she? To keep an eye on me for her?”

  I say nothing.

  “But he’s gone away, so I can only assume he’s been replaced,” she says.

  I scratch the back of my neck.

  “Were you assigned to replace him, Adam?” she asks with a smile.

  “Yes,” I say, shrugging, trying to look contrite. No point in lying about that if she knows the truth.

  “You were planning to find me in the flesh by seducing me in dreams.” She shows teeth.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you’ve found me,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “Now what are you supposed to do?”

  “I… I have no idea.”

  She tilts her head to the side, pushes her bangs out of her face.

  “How did you know I was looking for your Haunt?” I ask, trying to keep my anxiety out of my voice.

  “I was there when you visited me,” she says. “All five times you visited me.”

  “Where?”

  “In the theater.”

  “I never saw you there…”

  “I was invisible.” She uncrosses, re-crosses her legs. “You looked… how can I put this? Familiar.”

  My new face. Lucien’s face. That’s how she knows I was sent to seduce her.

  “The face was not my doing,” I hastily explain. “Or my decision.”

  “Oh, I understand,” she says. “Mnemosyne made you do it.”

  I can’t tell if she’s upset. I can’t tell what she’s thinking at all. What should I be doing? Attempting to seduce her? Bargaining with her? Buying time in the hope that someone will try to rescue me?

  “Do I…” I trail off. “My face, right now, does it…”

  “Does it look like my dead lover’s face?” she asks, laughing. “A little, I’ll admit.”

  What does she mean by that?

  “Did you really think it would work?” she asks.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I just did as I was told.”

  “But Mnemosyne thought it would.”

  “Who can say?” I shrug.

  She narrows her eyes. “Do you always blindly follow her orders like this, Adam?”

  “I’m a Mnemonic,” I say. “We submit or we’re made to submit.”

  “And how do you feel about that?” She leans forward and puts both elbows on the little cafe table.

  “It’s difficult not to resent it sometimes.”

  “Only sometimes?” The edges of her mouth curl upwards.

  I realize I’ve stumbled upon an opportunity. Now I can play at sincerity, pretend that this assignment wasn’t a total nightmare to receive, and continue the mission as planned. It’s worth an attempt—especially given I don’t have any idea what else to do.

  I look her in the eyes, and I choose my words carefully: “There are times I don’t mind what I’m told to do.”

  Her lips part slightly as she smiles. Given the look in her eyes, I think I might have gotten the answer right—not too forward, but not too coy.

  I guess I’m playing that same old game now. The only one I’m any good at.

  I smile slowly back at Mirabel.

  Good Luck

  {Kate}

  I make my way out of Horace’s grotto. I’m still spasming with hiccupy sobs by the time I reach Jennifer, who stands by the tunnel to the exit. As she gets a look at my face, her eyes go wide.

  “What happened?” she asks.

  “N-nothing.” I wipe my eyes.

  “What did he do to you?”

  “Nothing. Really. I’m just—I’m just really tired.” I take a shaky breath.

  She wraps an arm around my shoulders. “It’s okay. You’ve had a really rough time recently. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.”

  I nod.


  “Come on,” she says, leading me toward the exit.

  The tunnel we had to crawl through on our way in is somehow wider now. We can walk upright, standing shoulder to shoulder, without scraping against the craggy, slimy walls. Jennifer keeps me in her half-embrace, stroking the back of my shoulder gently. I’m surprised to find that being close to her does calm me down a little. She seems genuinely upset on my behalf.

  But she’s in love with Adam. If she knew even half of what I was hiding—and not only that, but the fact that he could be dead any minute now—

  I make another shuddering sob and bring my hands to my face.

  “Shh,” Jennifer says. “It’s okay.”

  We reach the mouth of the green-glowing cave, which opens right into the ocean. The water shimmers with reflected moonlight.

  “How do we get out?” I wonder aloud.

  “I don’t know,” Jennifer says. “Just keep walking, I guess?”

  I take a step into the water, and Jennifer does the same. We take another. And another, wading now, the water halfway up our shins. It’s frigid and strangely still; there’s no undertow, no tide. My teeth chatter as we push forward, deeper with every step. The water creeps up past my waist, past my shoulders, past my neck. I’m dead, I remind myself. I don’t need to breathe. But still, I don’t want to put my head under. I grab for Jennifer’s hand and hold it tight, terrified.

  She stops walking. In the distance, against the black horizon, I see an enormous wave rushing toward us. Before I can do anything but panic, it crashes right over our heads, and then everything is swirling and pounding and cold as ice.

  ***

  When the wave breaks we stand, perfectly dry, beneath the ancient pier. Haruko and Julian are waiting for us by the tide line. Julian sits in the sand, his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling past his feet. Haruko stands beside him, arms folded across her chest.

  “Well?” Haruko says. “What did Horace say?”

  “Nothing,” Jennifer says. “He couldn’t tell us anything.”

  Haruko frowns. “What?”

  “We asked him about Aya, and Horace said she doesn’t exist,” Jennifer says, incredulous.

  Julian looks up. “Aya doesn’t exist?”

  “According to Horace,” Jennifer says.

  “Maybe Aya isn’t her real name,” Haruko says.

  “He said Zenas Markham never had any initiates at all,” Jennifer says. “I think he was playing games with us, honestly.”

  Julian’s gaze lowers, turns inward.

  “Oh. And apparently Zenas Markham himself is in Chicago,” Jennifer adds.

  “What about Adam?” Haruko asks.

  Jennifer sighs loudly and runs a hand through her hair.

  “Horace said he couldn’t track Adam,” I say, looking Haruko in the eyes. “Not with Jennifer’s blood.”

  Haruko quirks an eyebrow—I’m sure she can surmise that I’ll have more to say later.

  “I guess this was a total waste of time, then,” she says. “Whatever. Let’s get moving.”

  Julian slowly stands up, looking out over the horizon, inhaling deeply.

  “I must apologize,” he says, his voice soft, almost injured. “I’m ashamed of how I’ve behaved.”

  “You’re not angry?” Haruko asks.

  “With you?” he says. “No. In all honesty, I cannot thank you enough.”

  Haruko looks confused.

  “For the first time since…” Julian shakes his head and starts over. “My mind is my own for the first time in years, thanks to you.”

  I nod, comprehension dawning. The seal Haruko put on him must have sealed the monster away as well—sealed off its voice in his head.

  “Looking back now, with a clear mind, I cannot believe the things I let myself do,” he says. “I murdered people casually. For minor insults, inconveniences…”

  “Julian,” Jennifer says, “none of that was your fault. It was Mnemosyne’s fault. She tainted your blood with that… that thing.”

  The Mutable, Horace called it. I wonder what its real name is—the one he wouldn’t say.

  “It is my fault,” Julian says. “If not for what I did to Adam…”

  “Wait,” Haruko says. “What you did to Adam?”

  Julian looks down at the sand.

  “What did you do to Adam?” Haruko asks.

  “It’s not important,” Jennifer says.

  “Isn’t it?” Julian asks her.

  Jennifer says nothing.

  “I forced him to submit to me,” Julian says, looking Haruko in the eyes. “I forced him to give me his blood. To give me my memories back. Not knowing he had the best possible reason to withhold them.”

  There is a long, awkward silence.

  “What’s done is done,” Jennifer says. “It’s under control now.”

  “For now,” Julian says.

  “The seal must affect it as well,” Jennifer says. “As long as Haruko doesn’t break it, you should be fine.”

  Julian shrugs. In his eyes I see defeat, not relief.

  “What do we we do now?” Haruko asks. “Where do we go? Chicago? To find Markham?”

  “What’s the point?” Julian says. “Aya doesn’t exist.”

  “Like I said, Horace could have been lying,” Jennifer says.

  “Why?” Julian asks. “What would he have to gain?”

  I almost open my mouth to tell them the truth about Aya—about Markham—but then I realize where that conversation would go. I’d have to explain about the amulet; without it, how could Markham have escaped the notice of so many Wardens for so long? And then I’d have to explain how I found out about the amulet, and then—

  “If Aya doesn’t exist, then who was the girl you’ve been taking care of for so long?” Jennifer asks Julian. “Maybe she isn’t Markham’s daughter. Maybe she has another name. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t exist.”

  Julian doesn’t seem to be listening. He starts walking away from us, toward the water.

  “Julian?” Jennifer says. “Where are you going?”

  He stops.

  “I can’t help thinking… it’s only a matter of time before…” His shoulders rise and fall with breath.

  “Before what?” Jennifer asks.

  “Perhaps it would be best if you three went on without me,” he says.

  “Julian… what do you mean?” Jennifer asks.

  “Leave me,” he says.

  “Leave you? For the sun?”

  He doesn’t reply.

  Jennifer shakes her head, aghast. “Julian, no!”

  Haruko wraps her arms around herself, looking sickened and shaken.

  “We won’t do that,” Jennifer says.

  “The seal won’t last forever,” Haruko mumbles.

  “If it breaks, we’ll seal him again!” Jennifer snaps.

  “I feel diminished,” Julian says. “Whatever is inside my blood has eaten away at me. I fear, should the seal break, I won’t have the strength to fight it any longer.”

  “This is stupid,” Jennifer says. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

  “No,” Julian says. “This is the perfect time and place. Far away from anyone. I could walk into the sea, and then…”

  Jennifer turns to me.

  “Help me,” she says. “Help him.”

  “You mean force him to come with us?” I whisper, appalled.

  She nods.

  I turn to Haruko, looking for help, but she’s shading her eyes with her hand and staring at the sand. I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure that I want to stop Julian. If I was in his situation, I’d be desperate for relief, desperate not to let the Mutable take over.

  A horrible thought occurs to me.

  “If you wait for sunrise, Julian, and you become a ghoul…” My skin crawls. “What if that doesn’t kill the Mutable?”

  He turns his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

  “As a ghoul you’d be mindless,” I say. “What if it just takes control?” />
  He makes a sour face, as if suppressing the urge to vomit.

  “I hadn’t considered that,” he says.

  “She’s right,” Jennifer says. “We can’t take that chance.”

  Julian closes his eyes.

  “Let’s go,” Jennifer says. “We need to get back to the van. We don’t have long until sunrise.”

  Julian reaches inside his pocket and retrieves the compass and the flashlight. We begin our hike, trudging through the sand towards the van and the driver waiting for us.

  ***

  It’s close to daybreak by the time we get back to the estate. Haruko and I steal away to Adam’s suite. As I close the door behind us, I almost start crying again. It feels like someone is squeezing my chest—hard—forcing me to shudder out all of my breath. My eyes fill up.

  “What is it?” Haruko asks.

  “It’s Adam.” My voice cracks. “He’s in Romania, about to go into Mnemosyne’s enclave with that hole still in his head, and—“

  “How the hell did he get to Romania?”

  “I don’t know—“

  “How the hell is he getting around with that hole in his head?”

  “I don’t know, okay? That’s not the point. Mirabel is hiding in the enclave! She’ll be there waiting for him!”

  Haruko furrows her eyebrows. “Why is he looking for Mirabel?”

  “He isn’t! I don’t think… I think it’s an accident.”

  “This is what Horace told you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why did Jennifer say he couldn’t find Adam?”

  “We tried looking for him with her blood, but it didn’t work,” I say. “The connection wasn’t strong enough, I guess. But then he told her to leave, and we tried it again. With my blood.”

  “You know Adam better then Jennifer does?” she asks. “Didn’t you say they were dating or something?”

  “Focus, Haruko,” I say. “Adam. Mirabel. Together. Right now.”

  “In Romania.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m still trying to figure out how he got there. What did he do, find a nemesis?”

  “Yes! Her name is Mirabel!”

  She laughs. “Not what I meant, but point taken.”

  “Don’t you care about any of this?”