Memory's Wake Omnibus: The Complete Illustrated YA Fantasy Series (35 page)

Will picked up the dagger and hit it against the stone wall. Sparks flew. “Too hard to be silver.”

“What are these doing here? Is this why the fae don’t come here?” Memory brushed her hand over one of the boxes and cracked it open, finding what looked like the head of a hoe lying on a bed of velvet.
Weird.

“No way they’d come close to this much iron.”

“Maybe when they got rid of all the iron from Avall, they missed some and stashed it here?” Memory puffed out a long breath. She put her hand into her purse and pulled out her own small knife. “I should leave my knife here then, too. I guess this is goodbye.”

Memory placed it on the top of the boxes.

The buzz of hot energy rushed through her, and she could feel her eyes closing.

“Hope?” she heard Will ask, his voice different, high and clear. “Hope?”

“It’ll be so cool,” she said. She sat at the head of an unmade bed, on yellowed pillows. In front of her sat Will, but much younger, wearing flannel PJs, his hair cut short and neat. He was hiding how scared he was in the completely obvious way that little boys do.

“Won’t it hurt?” he asked.

“Well, yeah!” she said. “But once it’s done it’ll be forever. That’s what it means. Friends forever.” Memory held out the paper with the draft design on it, tracing the symbol of eternity with a swirl through the middle. Next to the bed was a small table that had a lamp, a ballpoint pen, a needle, and a lighter on it. The room was dim, grey. A wisp of moonlight shone through thin curtains.

“Forever?” he asked.

“Yeah. You and me against the world. Together forever.” Memory examined her wrist. “I think we should do them here. It’s okay, I’ll go first. Scaredy cat.”

“Hope?”

She had completely zoned out. Will called her name a few times, but got no reply. She just stood there, eyes closed, with a hand still on the knife on top of the boxes. Will reached to touch her, to see if she’d respond but decided against it.

“Memory?” he tried. He struggled to think of her by a different name.

“What?” She opened her eyes and looked at him, blinking a couple of times. “Sorry, wow, I spaced, huh?”

“We should get out of here. You probably need fresh air.”

A frown pinched her eyebrows, and she reached out and took his hand, turning it palm up to see the tattoo they shared. Her hands were so small around his, cold fingertips sending thrills up his arm. Will tensed and Memory let go, clearing her throat.

“Yeah, some fresh air would be good, but can we check out where the rest of the tunnel goes? I bet you it goes into the castle. Could be a short cut.”

Will looked around for Mina out of habit, but knew she would never come for him here with all the iron. He had plenty of time. “Okay, we’ll go up.”

The passageway up proved to be slow going, with narrow stone tunnels and winding stairs. Memory began complaining that she’d neglected to bring food with her.

Will smiled. It was nice seeing her eat. She was still so thin, but at least she ate now. Eating seemed to be one of her new favorite things.

Hunger crept up on Will as well, urged on by Memory’s descriptions of what she planned to eat the moment she got back to the castle.

“They even have two chefs just for making cakes. Can you believe that?” She puffed as she talked, sentences broken up by heavy breathing. The stairs were steep and unevenly cut, each step often as high as Memory’s knees.
It must be hard for her.
Will almost offered to carry her, but decided against it. He’d broken the rules enough. He would only make exceptions when it was necessary to keep her safe.

Will worried more about the lifespan of their candles. He tried to carry one of the old torches, but it broke apart when he pulled it from the wall, too fragile to be moved. The tunnels must have been ancient.

Up ahead, the hall ended in a heavy wooden doorway. It looked solid, and no sound or light travelled through it. To the best of his judgment, they should be in the castle, somewhere, but he lost most of his ability to track distance and direction when not under the open sky.

“This had better be the way out, or I might have to just eat the door instead,” Memory said, peeking over his shoulder as he carefully pulled at the handle, worried it might break like the torch had.

The wood of the door felt solid, newer than anything they’d passed so far. Will stopped with the handle half turned, pausing to think. Everything except the boxes of iron objects, he realized. Many of those seemed new, not covered in dust or the grime of centuries.

“Any time now,” Memory said.

Will pulled at the door, sensing the weight of it, but it glided open smooth and silently. On the opposite side, the door was rendered in stonework to match the walls around it.

Memory followed him through into another long, skinny corridor where enough natural light fell to let them douse their remaining candles. “We’re in the servant runs. I used these yesterday to lose my shadows but ended up getting caught out by Clara. She said they’re for the servants to get around the castle fast without bothering the nobles, which seems silly to me. The halls out there are wide enough for everyone.”

There were slits in the wall every dozen paces that showed the main hallway running parallel to them. Memory turned back and closed the secret doorway behind them and wedged her small stump of a candle into a gap in the rocks next to it. “I don’t know if anyone else knows about that tunnel, but I want to be able to find it again.”

Will heard voices and put a finger to his lips, not wanting to be found there. Along with the men’s voices, the rhythmic thump of a walking cane could be heard.

Memory pushed past him to look through one of the peep holes. She always was the game one, breaking rules, daring risks.

She said in a breathy whisper, “That’s Hayes. I want to hear what he’s saying.”

Memory stood close to Will in the small space, so she could press her ear to the hole. He put his back up against the wall, shivering as he inhaled the scent of her, rising from her hair. Blood and crushed flowers. The scent of hair dye she used to always carry had left now that her hair was its natural pale blonde again. She had changed in so many ways; the loss of a whole life’s memories did a lot to her. But in others, she was still Hope. Impulsive, brash, and fragile. He breathed her fragrance again, and let it take him back to when he was young and idolized her, and never dreamed she’d ever see him as anything other than a little boy. Now he towered over her, and she seemed so delicate as she brushed against him in the confined space. The desire to wrap her in his arms, bury his nose in her hair, press his lips onto the soft skin of her neck, rolled over him with knee weakening force. He denied the desire. Even if he wasn’t a boy anymore, he still remembered the rules.

Will could hear the conversation clearly through the wall without moving closer. His time with the fae had improved all his senses.

“Plans for coronation and surrounding celebrations are going well. Princess Eloryn has undertaken her rehearsals with diligence.”

“That’s Bors, too,” Memory whispered.

“She is perfectly amenable, is she not? What of the other one? That scamp can’t even be kept track of half the time.”

“She does as she wishes, sir, completely wild. We’re no closer to understanding her in any way, not her upbringing or her magic.”

Memory grunted. “Yep. That’s me they’re talking about.”

Hayes continued. “I had hoped schooling would add some needed structure to her life, but she’s already resistant to that concept. We simply need something to keep her entertained to which she agrees, and once occupied she will stay out of our way and out of trouble. I have a thought or two on that matter.”

Their voices carried out of range as they left that area of the corridor.

“Pfft, I doubt I’d find anything they chose for me entertaining,” Memory said. She looked through the peephole again. “I think we’re in the old keep, near the Round Room. Oh, do you want to see it?” Memory asked.

Will looked through the hole above her head. A number of nobles in well-tailored and spotless suits were wandering through. Will looked down at his fraying clothing and furs. “Can you find your own way through the castle from here? I think I’ll go back out the tunnel, the way we came in.”

Memory also seemed to be assessing how he looked, then looked down at her dress, spotted all over with powdery dirt and slime.

“Okay, maybe it’s not the best time for a tour, but I hate that you feel like you can’t be in the castle.” Memory folded her arms tight around her chest. “We can probably make it most of the way to the gardens in these servant halls, then if you want you can leave from there. But my rooms are pretty close too. We could do a runner and no one will see us. I mean, if you didn’t mind. I’d like to spend some more time with you.”

Will enjoyed these times he had with Memory, getting to know who she had become, but the more time he spent with her, the more terrified he became. He knew how easily, how quickly, everything in his life could be taken away, his parents and whole family lost in one tragic natural disaster and then his whole world in an entirely unnatural way.
I only just got Hope back. Not Hope, Memory,
he reminded himself, trying to get her new name right.
He’d only been able to be with her while Mina wasn’t demanding his company, something she had been demanding more and more often lately. Mina had always been possessive, but the more time he tried to spend with Memory, the more possessive she became.

Memory put her hands together like she was praying and made a puppy dog face.

Will smiled. “Okay, let’s go.”

Memory dashed into her chambers, startling Clara as she tidied up.

“I don’t even want to know where you’ve been.” Clara raised an eyebrow at Memory’s dirt-covered dress. Then something cheeky flashed in her eyes. “Or maybe I do? Did it involve a man?”

Memory had managed to apologize to Clara the night before, and Clara had received the apology as an invitation to take over all of Memory’s maid’s duties. She’d become downright feisty since Memory gave the order to be free with her words and opinions.

“Clara, could you come back later? I’m expecting company.”

Will chose that moment to emerge over the top of the vines on the balcony. He’d refused to come through the last small stretch of palace with Memory, so she agreed to meet him there.

Clara studied Will up and down.

“Oh my. Now I understand why you leave your windows open,” she said. Memory’s cheeks flooded with hot blood, and she imagined she must match Clara’s hair. Will looked ready to bolt, but too stunned to move.

“Clara, this is Will. He is my friend, from when we were kids. It's a long story. Clara, since you busted us anyway, would you mind helping us get cleaned up?”

Memory still found it hard asking for help for everyday tasks. But she had to be honest. She had so much trouble getting changed and looking after the antiquated chambers on her own, she needed someone. She couldn’t even take a hot bath on her own. Water came out cold, and people expected her to use a behest to warm it.

“Anything, Hope.”

“How about calling me Memory now?”

Clara smiled and answered as she went to draw the bath. “Unless you’re taking back your order to let me speak my mind, I’ll stick with Hope. It’s such a pretty name, and I can’t be changing what I call you every time you ask.”