Memory's Wake Omnibus: The Complete Illustrated YA Fantasy Series (32 page)

It took days for Memory to calm down after seeing Thayl. Her hands shook every time she thought about it. The worst part being that it was her own stupid fault for going there like that, talking to him. Saying she couldn’t control her own actions, that it was some magical connection compelling her, made it both better and worse. She hated the idea that she wasn’t in control, but being able to put the blame elsewhere brought some comfort. But the comfort had a bad aftertaste. Just like Thayl, not accepting the blame. She kept returning to what he said, wondering what was true, and denying the morbid desire to go back and learn more about the dark ritual that changed her life.

Memory thought through all of this instead of paying attention to the meeting currently underway. Her entourage had become wise to her escape tricks, and she hadn’t managed to avoid this one. She sat beside Eloryn and did her best not to put her head down and fall asleep. Eloryn was engaged in the conversation, but Memory’s mind roamed. The meeting room, which she’d heard called the Round Room, was part of the oldest section of the castle, the ancient stone keep the rest of the palace was built around. The high ceiling had a stained glass design of a glowing sword and light shone through, down onto the enormous ring shaped table they all currently sat around. She traced fingertips over the smooth, worn wood of the table where the colored light fell. The table looked like it had seen centuries of use.

Hayes shot her an unimpressed look at her blatant disinterest. He, Waylan, Madoc, Lambeth, Bors, and a bunch of other gray faces with names attached she hadn’t managed to remember talked at her. They all wore the same style of suit they wore when they’d first met. Rich black satin, floor-length coats with stiff collars, purple lining and trim, but the suits were new now, not aged and ragged as they had been before. They were saying something about school again.
Fantastic.

They had explained that Thayl destroyed the university the Wizard’s Council used to run in Caermaellan, Avall’s capital. The university had been the place where they trained and taught future wizards, some of which became part of the Council, while others were assigned to townships to offer services throughout the islands. Other non-magical higher education was also offered there. The school was the only university of its kind in Avall before Thayl razed it to the ground as part of his hatred of all wizards.

Hayes had a strange, constipated look on his face as he announced that they would be reopening the university in the large Women’s Finishing School that still operated in the city, taking over much of the grounds for their classes in magic, math, politics, and sciences.

“Your Highnesses.” He nodded to Memory and Eloryn together, looking down at them over his hooked nose. “We hope to be ready for classes right after coronation. Your attendance at the school will be a sign to the populous of the return to normality and restored peace in Avall. And an opportunity to fill out any shortfalls in your own educations, of course.”

Hayes didn’t even try to be subtle in directing the last comment toward Memory.

“What about Will? Can he go as well?” Memory asked, trying to show interest.

“I’m not sure it would be the best place for him. The university is only open to those of noble blood,” Hayes said.

Memory pursed her lips. “Will’s not
NOT
noble. He’s just, different. I think it would be good for him to be around more people again. He’s been alone for so long. And maybe his parents where he came from were royalty? Huh? What then?”

“Mem,” Eloryn spoke in her calm, quiet voice. “It would be lovely to see more of Will, but do you really think it is something he would want? We must encourage his reintegration into society but also be sensitive to his needs and undertake the process at his pace.”

Memory sighed.
My sister, always right.

“Fine, but if he wants to go, he should be allowed,” Memory said. “Same with anybody. Noble or not, shouldn’t everyone have a chance to learn? Come on, guys. Thayl banned everything but really basic magic for all this time, right? Now he’s gone you’re still not going to let everyone use magic?”

“Respectfully, if everyone had access to higher forms of magic, what kind of world do you think this would be?” Hayes said in a mocking tone as though she could barely understand the concept.

“That’s not the point. You’re saying you want to limit the use of magic based on the title someone has. That’s not right.”

Eloryn spoke up again, and Memory hoped it would be to take her side. “It’s not only about title. It's in honor of the heritage of magic. Noble families are the ones with the right to the education because it is their families who established the studies of magic, who did the hard research to confirm the wording of behests throughout history.”

Memory’s mouth hung wide. “I can’t believe you’re with them on this. It’s not exactly like we’ve been brought up noble. I wasn’t even brought up in Avall!”

“It’s still in your blood. You should be eager to begin learning again. Eloryn at least had some education from Pellaine,” Hayes said. Eloryn cringed slightly as Hayes continued to use Alward’s old name. “It will serve her well after her coronation as queen.”

“You mean Memory’s coronation,” Eloryn said.

Around the table, everyone froze so still it seemed as though time had stopped, apart from eyes darting from person to person, blinking through the silence.

“Memory is to be crowned queen, is she not?” Eloryn asked the room.

Hayes frowned sympathetically. “We thought it was an obvious outcome, considering your pasts. You will be crowned queen, and you will be a fine queen.”

Eloryn paled, clearly shocked.

“It’s okay,” Memory spilled out, directing her words to Eloryn and ignoring the prickle of tears. “I don’t mind. I mean, I’m not exactly queen material. I know Eloryn’s got her head screwed on better than me.” She should have known. It was an obvious decision. Not even a decision. It’s just how things were.
What kind of queen would I be anyway? Lory already sounds like a queen.

Eloryn shook her head and spoke firmly. “Memory is the legal heir before me. She was born first, is the elder, and was Thayl’s stated heir as well.”

Hayes took over again. “Memory may be legal heir for all our human reasons, but do not forget your deal with the fae, Princess Eloryn. You are required to rule, and renew the pact with them, or the consequences could be dire for all of Avall.”

Eloryn dropped her head. Memory could see she hadn’t thought of that.

“It is important now more than ever to maintain peace with the fae,” Hayes said. “So many are leaving Avall, and those remaining are stirring, upsetting the order, acting out. They will not accept Memory as the ruler of Avall. Not the way she is.”

“Then could we not both rule? We’re twins. We should be together. We can do it, rule equally.” Eloryn turned to face Memory, a strange desperation in her expression.
Is she scared to do it alone?

Hayes’s eyes shifted side to side, seeking his words.
Oh,
Memory thought.
They really, really don’t want me as queen.

“Of course we considered this,” Waylan spoke up, kindness in his voice instantly more sincere than Hayes’s. He rested his hands on his round belly as he talked. “Never before has such a thing happened, and with reason. Having two figureheads essentially divides the power, weakens the throne. Power needs to lie within one hand, a strong, unilateral decision maker who the people believe in.” Waylan looked apologetically towards Memory as though the words were harsher than he’d meant. He offered her a small smile. “Memory will still be crowned and recognized officially as princess of the realm at the coronation ceremony. She can be with you and help you when you need her. This would also officially place her as heir to the throne, until as queen you have your own children as heirs, of course.”

Nods around the table marked the end of the meeting, and the Wizard’s Council departed. Hayes left last. Although he was the youngest of all the wizards, he carried a dragon-headed walking cane that he didn’t seem to need, other than to thump on the ground as he disappeared down the hall. Eloryn and Memory remained in their chairs for a while after, silent together. Eloryn seemed to be trying to say something, but after a while she left Memory alone in the room.

Memory ran her hands over the ancient table’s surface, wondering how something she didn’t even want hurt so much for being taken away.
It’s because no one believes I can do it. Not even me.

Eloryn stood next to Roen, trying to be as quiet as possible. They’d just sent for Memory and waited in Eloryn’s sitting room, watching the door. She felt more nervous than she had need to and kept glancing over at Roen for reassurance. He’d just returned from his trip and hadn’t changed out of riding clothes, knee-high boots and tight leggings slightly marked with mud and caramel hair still windblown. The loose-fitting shirt he wore revealed his collarbones and strong angle of his shoulders. Eloryn’s heart beat faster, and she quickly turned back to look at the door. It opened and Memory walked in.

“Happy birthday!” Eloryn and Roen shouted together, enjoying the shocked look on Memory’s face.

“Happy what the... what?”

“It’s our birthday.” Eloryn smiled.

“Surprise,” Roen added.

Memory raised her eyebrows. “Surprise the amnesiac. Fun game.”

“We thought we could celebrate tonight, just the three of us. It’s actually our birthday tomorrow, but tomorrow is also a day of mourning because, well…” Eloryn trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

“Oh right. The whole massacre thing,” Memory said.

Between Memory’s lukewarm reception and the reminder of the past tragedy, there wasn’t much celebrating occurring. Eloryn really wanted to do this for Memory, do something to make her happy and feel wanted. The recent meeting with the Wizard’s Council was awful, and Eloryn hated that Memory had been denied so much in her life. She wanted to give her sister something, even something small. Eloryn tried to stay positive.

“There are presents!” she said cheerfully.

Roen gave Memory a quick hug and laughed. “Just a couple of small gifts. You get the rest tomorrow. I don’t know how you’ve missed the river of presents flowing into the castle. Still avoiding your staff, I assume?”

“Like they were itty bitty plague rats,” Memory said.

Eloryn bit her lip. It was obvious Memory hadn’t had any handmaidens or staff around to help her. Her pale hair was loose and barely brushed and her gown’s fastenings hadn’t been done up properly at the back. She was worried about how well Memory was adjusting to this world that should be her home.
Although considering I had handmaidens spend three hours this morning using hot irons to set my hair into perfect ringlets and cycle me through three gowns each day, I can understand the allure of keeping them away.
The plum velvet off the shoulder gown they had picked for her evening attire stood out as far too formal compared to Memory or Roen’s outfits.

Memory kicked Roen softly in the shin. “When did you get back, anyway?”

“Only moments ago. I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I went to Duke Lanval’s, and he insisted I stay and travel with him when he came to Caermaellan.”

“Lanval’s here too? I never know anything! And don’t you tell me it’s my fault because I don’t want a million maids fussing around me all day.” Memory jabbed a finger at him.

Roen held out a large silk-covered box to her like a peace offering. She stared at it like it might bite her, but soon reached for it and a grin split across her face.

“Well, hopefully you at least know what to do with that box.” Roen smirked.

Memory made a scrunched nose grin and headed over to the lounge. She sat down with the gift on her lap, tugging at the satin bow that imprisoned the box.

After pulling the lid open, an audible gasp wheezed through Memory. “My stuff? My stuff! You found my stuff!” She plunged her hands into the open box, dragged out her strange shirt, and rattled through the jewelry she used to wear in her face. She bounced a little on the edge of the seat, and looked like she could leap up and hug Roen, but became too engrossed in rediscovering her belongings. “I have stuff! That’s mine!”

“Even Isabeth’s dress she lent you is in there, not that you have a shortage of fine dresses now, but she wanted you to have it. I thought you might want your belongings back and was sure Lanval would have kept them safe somewhere after what happened that night.”

Memory’s bouncing stopped. Some dark emotion past over her face then cleared quickly. A smile returned, but the bouncing energy didn’t.

Memory’s words came out raspy and quiet. “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.” Roen put his hands in his pockets and leaned on the wall, a bashful look on his face. Eloryn watched the whole exchange between the two of them, wishing she could have the easy friendship they had.

“He also brought back my bag I left there, and my mother’s, I mean, our mother’s medallion.” Eloryn stumbled over the words. She’d barely had a month to get used to having a sister after a lifetime of thinking all her family were dead.

“Oh. Of course he did.” Memory’s face dropped again.

Eloryn fidgeted her fingers. She’d said the wrong thing. She looked across the room where the medallion of gold and rubies sat on velvet in a glass jewelry case, a priceless artifact of the Maellan family. “I’m sorry. It is ours, and if you wish for it, I’d not hesitate to let it be yours.”

Memory rolled her eyes. “No, it’s yours. I know it is. Always has been.”

“Well, I have a gift for you, something new that can be yours,” Eloryn said, biting her lower lip.
She reached behind the chair and brought out another pretty box.

Memory’s mouth flickered into only a slight smile this time. “Damn. I’m an idiot. We’re twins. It’s your birthday too, and I don’t have anything for you.”

“What more could I need than my friend and sister to celebrate with? Open your present, I hope you like it.”

Memory pulled a well-worn book as large as her chest from the box and flicked through the pages with raised eyebrows.

“It’s a history of Avall.” Eloryn paused, seeing her present wasn’t getting the excited reaction Roen’s had.
She doesn’t like it.
“I thought you may be interested to read about our history and family, and learn some more about how the kingdom operates.”

“Yeah. It’s good,” Memory said. “All the better to not keep embarrassing myself, right?”

Eloryn tried to stay enthusiastic, but an awkward silence descended over them.

Memory stood up and shrugged. She didn’t appear to have enjoyed herself. In fact she looked sadder than Eloryn had seen for a while.

“So, I have this thing. A headache, kind of thing happening. Thanks for the birthday surprise, but I’m going to take an early night. Sorry.” Memory sat the book on top of the box of her old belongings and left, apologizing again on the way out.

Eloryn sighed and looked at Roen who offered a sympathetic smile. He reached for something in his pocket.

“I have another present for you,” Roen said.

“You shouldn’t have. You went so far to collect our possessions back for us.”

“Well, I thought Mem would be excited by her present. Her clothing is part of who she was.” Roen paused, hand still in his pocket, half smiling. “Close your eyes.”

Eloryn took a deep breath and let her eyelids drop. She could hear Roen approach as he kept talking. He sounded nervous, words running fast.

“It was no trouble to collect your items from Lanval’s as well. And I knew the Council was bringing you your other belongings, but I believe many of your possessions have sad pasts. So I wanted to get you something new.” Roen’s voice caught at the end.

Eloryn felt the warmth of his hands on hers, bringing them up and placing something soft onto them. Her eyes opened and saw a gold embroidered pouch. With a nod from Roen, she tugged the drawstring open, fingers shaky from her pounding heart.

A small teardrop of rare jade on a thin strand of silver poured from the pouch into her palm. It was still warm from being kept close to Roen’s body.

Roen shrugged. “Just a small token. It reminded me of your eyes.”

Eloryn looked from the pendant up at him with her lower lip between her teeth. “It’s beautiful.”

Roen cleared his throat, looking across at the fist-sized medallion of gold. “I understand it’s not a grand piece as fitting a lady of your rank, but I hope I chose something you may find occasion to wear.”

Eloryn shook her head. “I’ll wear it all the time.”

She undid the clasp and brought the chain up around her neck, her hair getting caught as she tried to do it up.

“May I...?” Roen moved forward, reaching to help pull her hair back. Eloryn scolded herself internally when the clasp clicked closed and he moved back away again. Frustration bloomed red in her cheeks.

The long silver chain was like a strand of hair, glimmering when the light hit, but almost invisible otherwise. Roen’s eyes followed it down, the pendant disappearing down into her chest. He quickly looked the other way. Eloryn saw a faint glow of red on his high cheekbones, which made her blush more.

“Thank you for inviting me to share gifts with you and Memory tonight. I will take my leave. My parents will wish to see me now I’ve returned.”

Eloryn grasped for more to say, wanting the conversation, her time with Roen, to continue. “Are your parents well? I’ve not seen them lately. Silly I know, since they are so close in quarters.”

“Yes, both well.” Roen hovered for a moment then bowed stiffly, pausing at the bottom. Eloryn heard him curse softly before he straightened up. She’d requested he wouldn’t bow to her anymore, at least in private. She frowned, knowing how much trouble he went to for her.

Roen left and Eloryn curled up in an armchair, holding the pendant in her hand. She spoke words of magic to it, asking it to hold onto the warmth it had drawn from Roen’s body, to keep it always, the way she wished she could but knew she couldn’t.

Roen leaned on the closed door to Eloryn’s chambers, grinding his teeth. The evening had not played out well. It was significantly easier getting along with either of the twins when they were running for their lives. He constantly fought down feelings for Eloryn. He couldn’t be with her, nor did he deserve to be. But he now worried even for the friendship they’d tied between them. He could feel those bonds slipping loose.

Out of habit he felt for the edge of the blade he used to keep within the seam of his work pants and found it missing. He no longer carried the tools of his old trade.

How life has changed.
Memory and Eloryn never once brought up the subject, that they were the only people to know the truth of the criminal he used to be. He never raised it either, never asking for their silence or secrecy. He wasn’t sure whether it was because he trusted them or some guilty part of him hoped they told.

It was enough that they knew. No matter that they didn’t seem to care. He could never outrun the shame of that.

Roen rubbed his forehead. And that silly gift he got for Eloryn. He had almost said out loud how he wanted to buy it for her properly. He could have stolen her something that would have taken her breath away. His family had no real income while they were being housed here in the castle, with no estate or lands of their own anymore. They were given most of what they needed, but Roen spent some of his time at Lanval’s working. Honest work. Earning money rather than taking it. Funny, given his new reputation as friend to the Maellan twins, he found a job much more easily than in his days as a sparkless nobody. It was enough to buy the small pendant for Eloryn, but he couldn’t tell her any of that, without reminding her again of what he had been.

Tonight, seeing Eloryn dressed so finely, she reminded him of the portrait of her mother, Loredanna, that he’d seen as a child. She somehow seemed so fragile, even though she wasn’t nearly as brittle thin as her identical twin. Was it just who she was, the pureness in her? Or was it a hangover from the trauma they’d suffered just weeks before? Everything about Eloryn made him want to protect her, from everything. Even himself.