Memory's Wake Omnibus: The Complete Illustrated YA Fantasy Series (38 page)

Memory shrugged. “I haven’t really thought of going back since I don’t really remember it there. My home, family, friends – they’re all here now.”

“Just keep in mind, if you ever change your decision about going back to this world you grew up in,” Thayl gestured to the room around them, “Be sure it is what you want, as you might not be able to return to Avall.”

“Mem, it’s
Bron-marbh Ai-leadh.
” Eloryn enunciated each syllable carefully. She knew the Branding spell would have no effect unless used in a situation where the Pact rightly allowed it, but saying it aloud still made her uncomfortable.

“Bron-marf Allalee. Oh pfft.” Memory sputtered out, obviously aware how far off her pronunciation was. Eloryn frowned at Memory’s inability to articulate the behest. She should have learned the Branding spell by now, and Eloryn felt neglectful that it had taken this long to find time to teach her. Hearing about Memory’s recent run in with an unseelie fawn made the lesson more urgent. She’d only just told Eloryn about being trapped in a fairy ring. The thought of losing her sister to an unseelie fae terrified Eloryn almost as much as the fact that Memory had taken so long to tell her about it.

Both Memory and Eloryn’s guards and handlers trailed a few feet behind as they made their way to the Round Room, acting as though they couldn’t hear or had no interest in the girls’ conversation. Memory kept glancing at them like she was embarrassed to be getting this lesson here. She folded her arms childishly. “Damn it. I can’t get it. I don’t even understand how it’s meant to work anyway,”

“That’s all right. I’ve never used it myself and hope neither of us ever need to. To be honest, the Brand is more of a punishment than a defense. It can only be used if a fae has already acted unjustly toward you, even a small act of violence. And you must remember it’s a death sentence. Not only does the Brand itself kill the branded within twenty-four hours, but the Brand is also a sign that the fae, or human, has violated the pact and can be hunted and killed by anyone. But it’s important to at least know the words, so you have the option of threatening its use as a deterrent. Try one last time? Bronmarbh Aileadh.”

“Bron-marv Allay-ay,” Memory repeated.

“Almost.”
Not quite
.

“Why do I have to come to this meeting anyway?” Memory moaned. “It’s not like I was invited.”

“I want you to be there. It’s important to me.” Eloryn felt like she hadn’t seen much of Memory recently. The growing gulf between them made her stomach ache. Her time had been almost completely consumed with rehearsals and planning for the upcoming coronation. She’d been hearing rumors of how her sister had been spending time without her, from fairy rings to public taverns, and it increasingly concerned her. She refused to admit it also made her jealous. At least Memory was accepting some help from palace staff now. Her new handmaiden was doing a good job of keeping Memory presentable, looking like the princess she was. Her hair was almost always up now in a style that disguised the short cut, and she wore elegant gowns Eloryn was sure Memory wouldn’t have picked herself, like the shimmering aqua dress with a giant bow for a bustle she had on now. Eloryn knew how some people talked about Memory and was happy to see her fitting in even a little bit more. “I want to help you to understand magic and your connection with it. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do that yet.”

“I’d love a chance to talk to you about that stuff too. There are things I have to tell you and haven’t had a chance. But we’re not going to get to do that at Hayes’s dumb meeting, or here,” Memory said, glaring back at the following guards again.

As the twins approached the entrance to the Round Room, they heard angry shouting. Their bodyguards reacted swiftly, breaking from their position behind the girls to run forward and create a wall in front of them. Peeking between the bulk of their guards, Eloryn saw Hayes in heated conversation with a red-faced man who she didn’t recognize. The rest of the Council surrounded them, muttering amongst themselves.

“It can’t be allowed. The kingdom shouldn’t be ruled by some little girl who’s been who-knows-where for who-knows-how-long! Not at such a fragile and crucial time,” the man shouted, each word a short, sharp bark.

“I don’t like this guy already,” Memory whispered.

Hayes lifted his hands in a calming gesture. “We have invited you here to allow a reasonable discussion. If you will not be reasonable then there is no more to discuss. Should you calm yourself you could meet with Princess Eloryn and see what a fine young lady she is, and you should have confidence that we the Council and our knowledge and experience stand behind her.”

“In a role that is not yours. Running the government is not the role of wizards.” The man waved away Hayes’s gesture. “I don’t need to remind you how powerful my family name is. We are the ones who should be ruling, and I’m willing to fight for that right should the need arise.”

“Quiet yourself and think twice before making such rash threats. Perhaps if you spent some time with the girls. They are, after all, family and becoming close to them could prove beneficial, providing you with the power that you desire.”

“From what I hear those girls are nothing but harlots. I want nothing to do with them. At least my family maintains its dignity.”

“Then might I remind you, Sir Ewain, that you in fact have no rightful claim to the throne? You may quip about the pedigree of the sisters, but unlike you they are of Maellan blood and are therefore the heirs. Be warned you speak of treason.”

Eloryn thought to her studies on the family trees of Avall nobility. From the name Ewain and the crest he bore on his vest, Eloryn made a swift guess at who this man was.

Eloryn pushed through her bodyguards, ordering them from her path and strode in to join the conversation.

“Dear Uncle,” she began.

The man snorted in disgust and pushed past both Memory and Eloryn on his way out. Their guards stepped in and moved to apprehend the man for the insult, but Eloryn waved the order to free him, and he stormed off down the corridor.

“Uncle?” Memory asked. She and Eloryn moved into the Round Room where the tension of the argument had everyone on their feet.

“Yes. Your father’s brother.” Hayes moved over to the table where he took a seat, motioning for the sisters and the rest of the Council to do the same. He ran a hand over his short cropped salt and pepper hair. He seemed tired, making him look as old as some of the other Councilors. “He’s hotheaded and believes that his family has a right to the throne. Whilst there’s no legality to it, they could still pose a threat should they gain popular support.”

“First I’ve heard of any uncle,” Memory said. “Do I have more family I don’t know about?”

“None of Maellan blood,” Eloryn answered. “Yet there are some on our father’s side. I’d hoped to welcome them as beloved family. I had no comprehension they had such ill feelings toward us.”

“I’m sorry they are not the family you’ve hoped for, princess,” Hayes said. “I’ve been in talks with them to try and settle the matter, but it seems they resent your family’s bloodline for what happened to their son and their brother, King Edmund.”

“That’s not exactly fair,” Memory said. “It’s not as though Loredanna was the one who picked him as her husband.”

Hayes, who already looked worn from the argument with Ewain, glared at Memory. Eloryn wished Memory wasn’t so blunt sometimes.

Waylan spoke up from across the table. “I would have to agree with Princess Memory in this case. We the Council do have much to atone for, and our taking on so many roles in rebuilding Avall is clearly agitating people. I understand the need for our guidance at this time, but we need to start putting the normal order of government in place. Ours is the role of guardians and teachers of magic in the land, not of ruling and politics. Seeing the Council step back from that may placate Ewain and his family.”

“And when should I step back, Waylan, now? While rash families are hovering the throne awaiting any mistake by our young princesses?” Hayes said.

“Their rage is misdirected. Perhaps the execution of Thayl will calm their boiling blood,” a Councilor from the far end of the table suggested. Lambeth, Eloryn reminded herself, still teaching herself the names of all the Councilors “After all, he is in fact the one to blame.”

Memory rose to her feet in an abrupt movement.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you guys talking about? What execution?” she asked.

“Having been found guilty of high treason, murder, and numerous other crimes, Thayl is to be publically executed not long after coronation as part of ongoing celebrations,” Hayes explained.

Memory shook her head. “You’re using the words executed and celebrations in the same sentence here. Have I just gone to crazy land? You’re not really talking about killing Thayl in public?”

Lambeth spoke up again, his voice crackly and dry with age. “The sentence for Thayl’s crimes is to be hung, drawn, and quartered. Crime in our lands is treated very seriously, perhaps unlike in the lands where you have been.”

Memory glared at him, mouth hanging open.

Eloryn stood up by her sister’s side. “I must admit, Council, the sentence does seem ghastly. Avall suffered many years of such terrors under Thayl’s rule. Perhaps we should reconsider, so that Avall’s new beginning is free from such bloodshed.”

“What would you have us do? Have him go unpunished?” Bors scoffed from the other side of the table.

“You think having your hand cut off and rotting in a cell for the rest of your life is ‘unpunished’?” Memory replied.

Eloryn felt torn. The man had been the cause of great sorrow for her, but she couldn’t find it in her anymore to wish for his death. She had once, and when sharing her sister’s body, she almost took his life herself. She was glad she did not, and it felt odd to have spared his life then only to see him executed now.

“I agree with Memory. I do not need to see this man’s blood on display,” Eloryn said.

Bors stood to respond and Hayes stood as well, giving him a firm look which quieted him. “I understand that executions aren’t a pleasant idea for a heart as gentle as your own, but the people of Avall expect this. Why should the murderer of your mother be treated differently than any other criminal?”

Memory huffed. “But he didn’t kill our mother. That was an accident.”

Eloryn winced. The man who raised her like she was his own daughter was the one who committed the deadly accident.

Memory looked at Eloryn as though she were sorry to have reminded everyone of it and then continued. “Besides, Thayl was being manipulated by someone else, a powerful witch called Providence. She was the one who gave him the power and encouragement to do what he did. It wasn’t all his fault.”

“Princess, we can see you are concerned, but your sympathy for this man is unhealthy. The bailiff informed me of your visits to Thayl’s cell. Undoubtedly, you have become emotionally attached to this murderer, and he is manipulating your sympathies for this very purpose of trying to spare his life.”

“Memory?” Eloryn looked at her sister. Memory’s face turned pink, and she looked away. Eloryn felt ill. “Memory, you’ve been visiting Thayl?”

“So what? I was looking for some answers. That’s no crime,” Memory snapped.

“What is more,” Hayes said, looking down at Memory, “we’ve no knowledge of this woman ‘Providence.’ Indeed, no women have a high enough learning or understanding of magic to do what she is said to have done, except, perhaps, those of Maellan blood. Princess Memory, these are nothing but the tales of a man attempting to shift the blame.

“The public expect, no,
need
Thayl to be executed. They need to know he is gone for good. Your highness,” Hayes said, pushing a piece of paper towards Eloryn. “I implore you to sign his death warrant. It is the only way that we can secure the safety of the kingdom. He could still be a threat.”

“He’s not a threat. He’s just a poor man in a cell. He can’t do anything.” Memory looked from the paper to Eloryn. “Lory, please, you can’t do this.”

“Mem,” Eloryn said quietly. “You didn’t have to experience it. The things he did. You escaped it all. The murders, the torturing, the decay of the land. The banning of magic put a strain on everyone, you can’t imagine. Something as simple as sending a message to a friend was almost impossible, and there was no magic to heal the sick. Thousands died. You can’t imagine the suffering this man caused.”

“I escaped it all?” Memory’s face scrunched up. “How can you say that after what I’ve been through?”

“It’s for the best.” Eloryn held her breath and signed the death warrant. Her chest pounded. She felt faint. Hayes took the paper from the table.

Memory looked at her sister in disbelief then turned and ran out of the room.