Memory's Wake Omnibus: The Complete Illustrated YA Fantasy Series (41 page)

Memory stepped off the dais, pushing angrily through the gaudy crowd. These were the people she was expected to live around? People that laughed at jokes about people being killed and the poor being unable to pay for their education? Memory dug fingernails into her palms to distract herself from imminent tears.

Clara trotted after her. “I think what you said up there was amazing.”

Your fault.

Memory turned on the spot, looking for the source of the voice. Clara smiled back sympathetically. “Although I think you chose the wrong crowd for such an announcement, being as everyone here was eligible to go to the university anyway and probably don’t want the likes of commoners attending beside them.”

Unnatural.

From behind her again.

“Did you hear that?” Memory pushed through the crowd haphazardly. Her head ached. Her whole body ached. She was so exhausted she was probably delirious. Hissing whispers came from all around her in the crowd, dizzying her. She searched for their source, grabbing people as she went. Some laughed, others were diplomatically shocked, all were confused.

“Hope, are you all right? You’re white as a ghost.” Clara kept after her but was swallowed up by the crowd, unable to keep up with Memory’s wild rush.

Murderer.

The word hit her like a freight train to the chest. She pushed her way out of the ballroom and ran.

Memory was an emotional wrecking ball. She stumbled down long hallways, each step shaking under her and a sound like distant thunder filling her ears. Decorative suits of armor along the wall rattled as she passed them. She felt unstable, her insides steaming out. In her mind she kept seeing Thayl step backwards off the ledge and disappear. Over and over. She was far from the celebrations now but still heard the voices whispering.
Your fault. Murderer.

Memory tugged at her hair, pulling it free from its cage of bobby pins.
Did I drive him to kill himself by making him talk about the ritual so much? Did he do it for me, so I didn’t have to see him executed?

Her body jolted, faded. She was slipping, the Veil tugging at her. Passing a stairwell, she clutched onto the banister as though holding on to it would keep her anchored. The banister shuddered.

Someone walked past, a shadowed shape. Memory caught a look at the face.

“Lory? Help me, please.” Memory reached out, but the figure continued without pausing.

Memory let go of the banister, stumbling after. The person’s body was blurry, shadowed, but Memory saw small glimpses of the figure’s face, reflected in darkened windows as it walked ahead. It was her sister’s face, for sure.

“Eloryn? Stop it, this isn’t funny.”

The figure turned a corner up ahead, and Memory broke into a wobbly jog. The rattling of armor and light fittings around her became more intense and curtains swirled and fluttered unnaturally.

Memory turned the corner and gasped. Herself, she saw herself, face to face in a full length mirror framed on the wall. And standing next to her, right behind her, reflected in the mirror was a second Memory. Not Eloryn at all, but her, Hope, how she used to look, complete with the dyed hair and piercings. She even wore the same clothes that Memory had on when she had arrived in Avall, the same striped long-sleeved shirt, broken heart tee over the top, and torn jeans.

Memory stared at this other self. Her other self smiled back.

Holding her breath, Memory turned around. Horror ran like ice water in her bones.

The other her wasn’t just a reflection. She was there.

Memory stepped back.

“Don’t be afraid,” the other version of herself said.

“Who are you?” Memory asked, her lips quivering.

“Hope.”

But I’m Hope. No, I’m Memory. This is not real. I’m losing my mind.

“I’m you. And you’re me. The broken pieces of our self.” Hope looked at Memory, a vacant, sad look in her eyes. “I’m here to be with you. Nobody can ever like us and nobody else will ever understand. Those idiots won’t take long to figure out you’re not a whole,
real
person. What do you think they’ll do when they realize the monster you are? Still pretend to be your friend?” Hope spoke vehemently, but then softened her tone. “But I’m here now.
We
can be together, you and me, like we should be, and I’ll make things better for you.”

“No, you’re not real. Not real!” Memory screamed out loud, shutting her eyes tight. The rattling intensified and a great cracking sound came from the mirror at her back. Shards of glass shot out around her, in every direction as though projected out from her own body, which remained untouched. The sound of smashing glass was only overpowered by her shattering scream.

Will could hear her screaming. Over the fireworks and oohs and aahs and giggles of nobles wandering the castle grounds enjoying the celebrations, he could hear her.

He ran over the soft grass of the gardens, keeping himself within the shadows cast by tall hedges. He still wore the shirt, vest, and pants Clara had given him but knew he wasn’t presentable compared to the standards of those around him. He looked through an open door and quickly ducked inside.

The long halls of this part of the palace were fortunately quiet. His bare feet padding on the cold marble echoed back to him. He broke into a full run, no longer keeping to shadows, only worried about getting to Memory as fast as possible.

He found her curled against a wall, surrounded by broken mirror.

He wanted to go to her, scoop her up, and keep her safe in his arms. His first step brought a bright burn of pain. A small sliver of mirror cutting into his heel.

Will growled in frustration. His feet would be cut to shreds to reach her. He almost went anyway. After a deep breath to calm himself, he took off his vest and used it to clear a path to Memory, pushing the sharp shards away.

Memory turned her head, acknowledging his presence.

“Are we alone?” she asked.

Will frowned and nodded. “You can get past the glass now,” he said, indicating the path he’d made. “Are you okay? How did it break?”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t real.” Memory mumbled and made little sense. Tears still wet her cheeks and her makeup ran. He hadn’t seen her this bad since back in the other world.

Memory stood up and stared at the path, making little effort to move.

Will coaxed her. “Come on. I’ve got something I want to show you. Come with me?”

Memory looked up at his face and after a moment a tiny smile appeared, and she walked clear of the broken mirror. “I’m sorry. God, I must be such a mess. I’ve had a pretty rough day.” A sob broke the end of her sentence.

“It’s all right. We can have our own celebration, just us, okay?” Will nodded for her to follow him. Memory dried her eyes with her wrists and followed.

Will had been wanting for a while to show her the place he’d found while roaming the palace grounds, but there’d never been a good time. Now also didn't seem good, but he needed something to distract Memory with and maybe make her happy. He led Memory through the quiet halls, up towards her rooms. Then he detoured, taking her up the spiral stairs of the tower at the eastern end of the palace. He hoped this way would work. Normally he’d come here from the outside of the building.

After reaching a window on the second landing, he opened it. Memory gasped and shook her head, but he smiled and stepped out onto an old section of the castle walls. It looked like it had been abandoned and built around at some stage when the palace was expanded. As she followed him out the window, he held Memory’s hand, so she wouldn’t fall due to the monstrous dress she wore. He would break the rules to make sure she stayed safe. She didn’t seem to mind, and held his hand back tightly, and he could feel her shaking despite that she’d calmed down and no longer cried. She gave him a wry smile like she agreed how ridiculous her dress was for climbing around like this.

Ahead of them a massive mound of overgrown ivy sprawled like a sea monster, leafy tendrils like tentacles reaching out in every direction. Memory had told Will how this wing had been closed off during the sixteen years of Thayl’s rule. The plants had completely grown over this end of the roof.

Parting a section of vines, Will revealed a secluded entrance and motioned for her to go inside.

He gestured to the room they were standing in. “It’s sort of a late birthday present,” he said. “A secret place, where you can just be yourself.”

The room must have been an old lookout or birdhouse. No longer part of the main castle walls and without easy access, it had become disused and forgotten. It was small, with just enough room for two stone benches that sat under windows without glass but screened by ivy, letting in just a little moonlight and the flashes of fireworks. Across the courtyard they could see the clock tower lit up, about to strike midnight.

“Thank you, it’s amazing,” she struggled to speak. “A place to be myself. Hopefully not to be with myself.”

Memory laughed strangely then seemed to notice they were still holding hands and let go. She stared at his wrist where he had the tattoo they did together.

“Will,” Memory’s lip trembled a little. “Something is happening to me. I’ve started to… remember things.”

Will’s heart jarred. Too many painful things for her to remember, things he wished she wouldn’t ever have to know again. Like so often, he wanted to hold her, comfort every pain she had. He wanted to protect her from her own memories.

He made the mistake of moving forward, his body drawn to her.

Memory made a half cough, half laugh embarrassed noise and moved away. Will stepped back too, cursing silently.

“Don’t look like I’m dying or something. Getting my memories back is good, right?” Memory hugged her arms around herself.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “And I’m sorry that I haven’t always been able to help, that I can’t always be here for you.”

Memory perked up. “Hello bright idea! How about we spend some time together here, every day? How does that sound?”

“Sounds great,” Will said.

“Right, we’ll meet here at six every day. Spit promise!” Memory hocked into her hand and held it up to him. The way she used to, when he was a kid and she wore jeans and they sat in the dirt together throwing rocks. Seeing her do it now when she wore something fancier than any wedding dress he’d ever seen made him smile broadly.

“Promise,” Will said. He would try, for her, but he knew that this was a promise that he couldn’t keep.

In the school’s dining hall, a long table had been laid out with crisp white linen, silver cutlery, and an arrangement of arum lilies, lending a feeling of elegance to what was otherwise a mess hall playing dress-up. Ladies’ classes now only occupied a small portion of the large finishing school grounds since the Wizard’s Council had requisitioned the rest of the space for their displaced university.

Memory sat at the table, wondering why she and Eloryn had been sent into the finishing school section, rather than the university classes run by the Council. Her first day here and she’d already sat through a morning of lengthy lectures about the proper way to curtsy, stitch tiny flowers, and other ‘womanly arts.’ Memory thought it was fair to say she could do with improving her manners, but Eloryn was meant to be queen. Surely there were more important things for them to be learning than how to bend perfectly at the waist. It felt insulting to them both, and there was also the fact Memory was bored out of her mind. And hungry.
This is ridiculous
. Memory looked at the plate of rapidly cooling crepes in front of her. She was starving but hadn’t been given the all clear to begin eating.

Memory glared in disbelief at Mistress Ursula, the teacher instructing her on the intricacies of how to eat, something she thought that she could do pretty well already. The way Mistress Ursula’s waist had been cinched in so small under her all black, high-necked dress, Memory doubted her expertise on the subject.

Memory wore a plain gown and jacket combo similar to the one she’d worn out with Clara that night, but something about the cut or quality of the fabric still made her stand out compared to the other girls’ simple lacey frocks. Around the room almost all the girls stared dumbstruck at Memory, Eloryn, and the crowd of Eloryn’s bodyguards standing at attention in the background.

Ursula tapped what looked like a conductor’s baton on the table and asked, “Can anyone tell me the correct amount of food that a lady should consume?”

“As much as possible?” Memory smirked at the girls around the table. A few smiled politely back, but the slight look of confusion in their eyes kept the tone flat.

“That is incorrect, your highness,” Ursula said, her voice flat. “A lady should only consume a portion the size of which would befit a child. The correct amount is one-third of what is on your plate – and not a bite more!”

“Any chance we could get bigger plates, then?” Memory asked.

Beside her, Eloryn snorted, covering the laugh by coughing politely into a napkin and giving Memory a small kick under the table.

“Wouldn’t bigger plates be lovely?” A girl with a mop of auburn ringlets piped up, looking so cheerfully at Memory and Eloryn it made Memory’s teeth ache.
Suck up.
“They would make us look so charmingly petite in contrast.”

Ursula’s head twitched, shaking her mound of perfectly piled gray curls, but her face remained impassive.

“The size of the plates is more than sufficient.” Ursula sat at the head of the table and brandished her own knife and fork in demonstration. “Remember that each forkful must be no larger than the end of your little finger, and you will place the food in your mouth, place the cutlery back on the table, and chew slowly and swallow before cutting your next piece.”

Memory sighed, staring at her plate of food.
Dear crepes, you smelled fantastic and look so cheesy, but if I have to eat you under these conditions I shall go insane. We were not meant to be, my love, so I bid you farewell.

Memory took her napkin from her lap and folded it with as much sarcasm as she could muster. “Mistress Ursula, I require the use of doth little girl’s facilities yonder and was wondering, per chance, if I could be excused temporarily forth hence?”

The openly mocking tone appeared to be lost on the teacher. “Certainly, your highness. But don’t be too long. We have to discuss desserts and the correct way to use a spoon.” She smiled as if the prospect was exciting.

“Can’t wait.” Memory gave two thumbs up, tucked in her chair and left the dining area, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

A cartoon escape sound effect played in her head as she slipped out the door and off to find an interesting place to kill time. The room was on the ground floor of the hollow rectangular building, and Memory looked longingly through the windows at a group of boys in the central courtyard. They were lined up, performing some matching exercise routine that Memory didn’t know the purpose of. Whether it was spell casting or aerobics, it seemed way more interesting than her classes. Down the hall Memory caught sight of Hayes, who was making his way around the building with the finishing school’s headmistress. Memory felt the need to express her concern over the nature of her education. Surely, as a princess, she shouldn’t have to go to school if she didn’t want to? She knew she’d hate school, even before she realized that it included such bizarre forms of torture as sitting her in front of food that she wasn’t allowed to eat.

Memory waited until Hayes and the headmistress had finished and approached him.

Hayes’s eyes narrowed when he saw her, but his expression quickly changed to a welcoming smile. “Your highness, how are you finding your first day of school?”

He says like it’s the only time I’ve been to school ever.

Memory matched his agreeable tone, trying to stay on his good side. “That’s kind of what I was hoping to talk to you about. Do you have a minute?”

The corridor had a few passersby who nodded or bowed to them both. Hayes indicated a nearby vacant office which they entered. He pushed the door closed behind them with the end of his walking stick.

“You have some problem with your classes?” Hayes snapped, rubbing the bridge of his hooked nose. He stared down at her, making her nervous and Memory felt a ramble coming on.

“Well, yeah. Are they really necessary? I mean, it just seems a bit silly learning how to sip soup when I’m meant to be heir to a kingdom. There’s just so much other stuff I don’t know that I could be learning. And Eloryn too, although she already knows lots.”

“Are your etiquette classes necessary? Well, that depends,
your highness
,” Hayes’s voice became a grumbling hiss. “Are you ready to conduct yourself accordingly? As a princess? It’s clear you don’t even know how. We know that your background is… questionable, but it’s high time you started learning how things work around here and stopped behaving like a wild girl.”

Hayes stepped forward, looming over Memory with barely any space between them. Hayes glanced at the closed door then back at her with a sneer. The close proximity shot a disgusted shudder through Memory’s body, and she tensed at the ill feeling in her stomach. Memory wished they weren’t alone. He’d never speak to her like this in front of Eloryn. Her face heated with shame, and she bit back at him in outrage.

“I do want to learn how things work here, that’s my whole point. But not all this girly rubbish. Real things about how to run the kingdom.”

“The Council and I are managing all of the affairs of the kingdom. These are not duties for women or girls. If you can’t carry out the simplest task of attending
charm lessons
, why should I think you deserve to study subjects that are of the realm of men? The fact is,
princess
, that you may not think that what you’re learning is fun or interesting, but you will do what you’re told if it has any chance to prevent you from causing further embarrassment to the throne.”

Hayes yanked the door open and left, obviously finished taking advantage of the privacy for his tirade.

Memory was stunned into silence. Yeah, she’d made some mistakes, but she wasn’t wrong about this.
Realm of men, my ass.
Memory kicked a cabinet and one of its glass doors swung open. It caught her reflection, and the reflection of Hope, just beside her.

Stumbling back out of the office into the hall, Memory tried to straighten up and act normal when she drew the attention of a group of passing students.

Great. Hayes was right. I’m embarrassing myself again already.

Memory found a seat on the low windowsill across from the dining hall and waited for the class to end. She didn’t have anywhere else to go, but refused to go back inside as her own form of protest. She also needed a moment to recover after seeing Hope again. The glass was cold against her back, and she let it calm her boiling insides. She wondered if witnessing Thayl’s death could really have tipped her over the edge into full-blown psychosis. The first time she saw Hope she was emotionally and physically exhausted, delirious, so she could write it off as a mental hiccup. She had no excuses for this time.

The lesson ended and Eloryn was first out, escorted by her intimidating entourage. Memory imagined that it must be difficult to constantly have a small battalion of soldiers trailing you around. The girls that followed looked torn between a bursting desire to befriend the young queen and white-faced terror at the prospect of doing it in front of heavily armed men.

Memory stood up and started walking beside Eloryn. “I miss much?”

“No. It got even more boring after you left.” Eloryn gave Memory a sideways smile and blushed as if she had said too much.

“I bet you knew all that stuff already anyway, right?”

Eloryn’s blush deepened. Memory figured that was a yes.

“Can we go eat some food like real people now?”

Eloryn gave her head a small shake. “I don’t think we can fit it in before our next class- Posture and Perambulating.”

“Perambu-what?” Memory grunted. “Maybe I should attend that one. I don’t think I even know how to perambulate.”

Eloryn giggled, and the sisters continued to walk. The long corridors were lined with arched windows showing the inner courtyard on one side, and along the other side, portraits of past school headmistresses were spaced between the classrooms. Memory didn’t appreciate the sour-faced glares most of the women held, staring down at her like she was offending them just by being there. They passed by open double doors, revealing a large hall where two men fenced before a substantial crowd of girls.

Memory bounced on the spot. “Let’s watch, let’s watch, let’s watch!”

Eloryn frowned. “We’ll be late for class.”

“We can learn to perbamuwhatever any old time, come on.”

Memory pushed Eloryn into the room, and the two struggled to see over a crowd they were mostly shorter than. As the girls around them started to realize who the newcomers were, they hastily moved aside and Eloryn and Memory ended up with a front-row view.

The two men in matching padded jackets and mesh masks lunged and parried, moving backwards and forwards like crabs. One of the men moved very formally, and the other fenced with a swift fluidity that won him more gasps of admiration from the watching girls.

The formal fencer struck at his opponent, but in an effortless twirl the blow was dodged. The other man continued the graceful move and struck back in return. The point of his sword embedded into the padded jacket above the first man’s heart and flexed into an arch.

That seemed to mark the end of the fight, and the combatants bowed to each other with their swords to their chests. The girls in the audience sighed and giggled when the winner took off his mesh mask and shook out his ruffled tawny hair.

Roen.

Memory grinned and gave a loud wolf whistle which drew a little more attention than she intended.

Roen noticed and smiled at the twins. He gave his sparring partner a solid handshake and a few words Memory couldn’t hear.

“He’s pretty good, hey?” Memory asked Eloryn.

Eloryn’s cheeks had lost all their color. Her whole face paled. With a small nod, she took a step back. “We’d better get to class.”

“I’m going to go say hi. Come with, I’m sure he wants to see you too.”

Eloryn’s mouth twisted and her head dropped. With a small shake of her head, she ducked back through the crowd and left the hall, surrounded by her handlers.

Roen was already headed their way, and Memory noticed the hurt look on his face when he saw Eloryn leave.

“She has a class now,” Memory covered, more to save Roen’s feelings than whatever was going on with Eloryn.

“You don’t?” He smiled warmly, but a small frown still marred his expression.